((Continued from: In Sight of a Sanctuary))
Sidney Crosby'd been running in an almost haphazard path across the island for what seemed like forever. Though it hadn't been that much time at all since he'd left the hospital after accidentally killing Chance, his mind wasn't allowing himself to even think of that at all, but in fact just kept repeating over and over: you killed him. Having dropped his pistol back at the hospital, Sidney was almost unarmed, carrying only the switchblade that he'd been assigned. He was essentially, back to square one. Back to the beginning, aside from the fact that he'd killed someone and his foot was absolutely killing him. For the past ten minutes, he'd been gritting back tears as his foot was absolutely killing him. He didn't even know where he was going, but just as long as he found some form of solitude, he figured he'd be okay. Nothing good had happened since he'd met up with people, and he figured that perhaps that was the hidden key to the game - stay by yourself, and you'll live.
Coming to a bit of a clearing, Sidney stepped on a rock, to which his eyes closed as the pain jolted through his body. Of course, due to the fact that it felt almost as though he were running for his life, he actually kept on running, emerging from the woods almost directly in front of the trio that were outside of the warehouse, looking after their fallen comrade. Without even realizing it, and before any of them could even do a thing, Sidney ran full speed, right into the warehouse wall, his eyes opening in surprise as he fell backwards to the ground. His first thought was that he'd been shot, but then he sheepishly realized what had really transpired, and remained, flat on his back, staring up at the sky.
I am SO not cut out for this...
Onslaught Redux
Return to the Warehouse
Grimacing again, Jack looked at the slash on Martyn's throat. It looked severe and blood was flowing out rather quickly. He'd be surprised if Martyn lived long enough for it to heal. Looking closer, he could see bits of brown and green amidst the wound. Tilting Martyns head back, he fished a water bottle out of Martyn's pack and unscrewed the top.
"Keep your head like that, this will probably hurt like fuck." he said, upending the bottle and pouring water onto the cut, using the left arm part of his jersey to wipe off the water. Repeating until he was satisfied, he took the bandage and wrapped it around his neck tightly, but not tight enough to strangle him. Nodding, he put both bandage and bottle away.
"Well, I'm no surgeon, but that should do the trick. I just hope I got all the dirt and grass that hitched a ride in your neck, because to be frank, you're screwed if I didn't thanks to bacteria and all. Just hope I-shit." the last part was referring to the boy who had just ran into their clearing, and into the warehouse wall. Standing up and withdrawing his gun, he cautiously walked towards the fallen figure, watchful for any attack.
Shit, two people inside an hour. How bad is our luck? I just hope he isn't playing, I really don't want to fire again. he thought, still eying the boy. Wait, he looks familiar. Haven't I seen him somewhere?
"Hey, who are you? Get up." he said to the new arrival, sounding as untrusting as he could.
"Keep your head like that, this will probably hurt like fuck." he said, upending the bottle and pouring water onto the cut, using the left arm part of his jersey to wipe off the water. Repeating until he was satisfied, he took the bandage and wrapped it around his neck tightly, but not tight enough to strangle him. Nodding, he put both bandage and bottle away.
"Well, I'm no surgeon, but that should do the trick. I just hope I got all the dirt and grass that hitched a ride in your neck, because to be frank, you're screwed if I didn't thanks to bacteria and all. Just hope I-shit." the last part was referring to the boy who had just ran into their clearing, and into the warehouse wall. Standing up and withdrawing his gun, he cautiously walked towards the fallen figure, watchful for any attack.
Shit, two people inside an hour. How bad is our luck? I just hope he isn't playing, I really don't want to fire again. he thought, still eying the boy. Wait, he looks familiar. Haven't I seen him somewhere?
"Hey, who are you? Get up." he said to the new arrival, sounding as untrusting as he could.
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He found himself musing a grin at Jill’s words; though bit back any loud sounds of pain as they began to move him off his stomach and onto into a sitting position of sort with Jill acting as some sort of support for him as Jack seemed to be looking over the wound in his throat. The grin keeping as he wheezed in another amount of air. “I think… think I got her in the face… when I sh—shot. Did… you get a chance to see her… probably—probably was another of your classmates…”
The grin left his face though when Martyn felt as Jack tilted his head back, spreading a wildfire of pain through the wound along his throat. But instead forcing his teeth down on his lower lip and forced his eyes shut, though the worst of the pain had yet to come because as soon as the water hit the wound set a large amount of every curse he knew running through his head. Though it went over a few more times, he slowly got used to it, to by the time he was done that it didn’t bother him all to much.
Once his throat had been bandaged, he allowed himself to rest a bit. Though trying to keep a majority of his weight off Jill, he’d have to remember to apologize for bleeding on her when he got the chance. And as Jack started talking about his job on the wound, he was about to remind him of helping him with the one on his back when a sound broke his thought and Jack’s words. He blinking, as Martyn tilted his body a bit trying to see what was happening as Jack got up, gun draw – which reminded him that, that girl had taken his weapon, and moved toward the other boy that had just announced his arrival via meeting the wall head first.
Funny? Yes.
But Martyn was in hardly shape to be laughing at the moment.
The grin left his face though when Martyn felt as Jack tilted his head back, spreading a wildfire of pain through the wound along his throat. But instead forcing his teeth down on his lower lip and forced his eyes shut, though the worst of the pain had yet to come because as soon as the water hit the wound set a large amount of every curse he knew running through his head. Though it went over a few more times, he slowly got used to it, to by the time he was done that it didn’t bother him all to much.
Once his throat had been bandaged, he allowed himself to rest a bit. Though trying to keep a majority of his weight off Jill, he’d have to remember to apologize for bleeding on her when he got the chance. And as Jack started talking about his job on the wound, he was about to remind him of helping him with the one on his back when a sound broke his thought and Jack’s words. He blinking, as Martyn tilted his body a bit trying to see what was happening as Jack got up, gun draw – which reminded him that, that girl had taken his weapon, and moved toward the other boy that had just announced his arrival via meeting the wall head first.
Funny? Yes.
But Martyn was in hardly shape to be laughing at the moment.
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At the voices that called out to him, identifying himself, Sidney Crosby wanted to just roll over and point to the name on the back of his jersey. Anyone who was even a remote hockey fan would recognize him, and wonder what in God's name he was doing on this island. Of course, his time on the island hadn't been kind to Sidney Crosby, who was just about fed up. As was something he tried not to do but sometimes failed, when Sidney got upset, he tended to get a little lippy and sarcastic. So when Jack called out, asking who he was, Sidney simply lay there, but responded anyways.
"I'm the next great fucking hockey player of our generation, the one who's supposedly the next big superstar, I'm Sidney-fucking-Crosby, and I just ran into a wall. If you're thinking I'm a threat - I'm not, I have no weapons but a pocketknife, I've got a wound on my foot, and damnit, my head's a little sore."
Wincing as he rolled over and sat up, facing Jack, Jill, and Martyn, Sidney rubbed his forehead and grimaced as he felt a bruise coming on.
"Now, if you're going to shoot me, which I sincerely hope that you're not, just make it quick, I've been through too many fucked up situations on this island to have someone fuck up trying to kill me - though, it seems that they already did that."
Sidney's annoyance at his situation, and his whole attitude at the hand that he'd been dealt shone through, and was obvious for everyone else to see.
"I'm the next great fucking hockey player of our generation, the one who's supposedly the next big superstar, I'm Sidney-fucking-Crosby, and I just ran into a wall. If you're thinking I'm a threat - I'm not, I have no weapons but a pocketknife, I've got a wound on my foot, and damnit, my head's a little sore."
Wincing as he rolled over and sat up, facing Jack, Jill, and Martyn, Sidney rubbed his forehead and grimaced as he felt a bruise coming on.
"Now, if you're going to shoot me, which I sincerely hope that you're not, just make it quick, I've been through too many fucked up situations on this island to have someone fuck up trying to kill me - though, it seems that they already did that."
Sidney's annoyance at his situation, and his whole attitude at the hand that he'd been dealt shone through, and was obvious for everyone else to see.
The loud thump that echoed around the warehouse as Sidney Crosby ran headfirst into it was enough to startle Jill, and she jumped somewhat at the noise. The second she realized what had happened, however, it was all she could do to contain the laughter while Jack interrogated the new arrival. Biting her lower lip, her body trembled visibly as she struggled to contain her laughter. Finally regaining her composure, Jill couldn't help but cast a smile at the newcomer. Nothing good had happened on this island in a long while, and that was the funniest thing she'd seen in ages.
Jill's eyebrows raised as she got a good look at the boy. Being somewhat of a hockey fan, she immediately recognized him as Sidney Crosby. Upon him introducing himself, though with somewhat of a piss-poor attitude, Jill's suspicions were confirmed. His comment about his head being a little sore brought Jill once again forcing back laughter. She knew Sidney was upset, but that was the most amusement she'd had in a long time. After all, it isn't often that you see anyone, let alone a regular celebrity, plow headfirst into a wall.
"Well, Mr. Crosby... us shooting you wouldn't be very beneficial to any of us right about now, now would it? I mean, if you're as unarmed as you claim to be, we'd just be wasting a bullet."
Casting him somewhat of a smile, her attention turned toward Martyn, then back to Jack.
"We aren't quite finished yet," she announced, motioning toward Martyn's back and the large crimson stain that had seeped into her teal tanktop.
Suddenly, she was at somewhat of a loss. If Sidney had posed any sort of threat to them, he blew that along with his cover. Somehow, Jill just didn't think he'd attack them... but in a game like this, safety was always a necessary precaution. So, what to do now? Deal with the Crosby boy, or finish up Martyn's bandages before he bled out all over the place. In her mind, Jill flashed back to seconds ago, when she'd caught a glimpse of the girl's back who had attacked him. She still couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew that girl.
"So..." she inquired toward Jack, "Who're we dealing with first? Martyn, or..." she nodded toward Sidney.
Jill's eyebrows raised as she got a good look at the boy. Being somewhat of a hockey fan, she immediately recognized him as Sidney Crosby. Upon him introducing himself, though with somewhat of a piss-poor attitude, Jill's suspicions were confirmed. His comment about his head being a little sore brought Jill once again forcing back laughter. She knew Sidney was upset, but that was the most amusement she'd had in a long time. After all, it isn't often that you see anyone, let alone a regular celebrity, plow headfirst into a wall.
"Well, Mr. Crosby... us shooting you wouldn't be very beneficial to any of us right about now, now would it? I mean, if you're as unarmed as you claim to be, we'd just be wasting a bullet."
Casting him somewhat of a smile, her attention turned toward Martyn, then back to Jack.
"We aren't quite finished yet," she announced, motioning toward Martyn's back and the large crimson stain that had seeped into her teal tanktop.
Suddenly, she was at somewhat of a loss. If Sidney had posed any sort of threat to them, he blew that along with his cover. Somehow, Jill just didn't think he'd attack them... but in a game like this, safety was always a necessary precaution. So, what to do now? Deal with the Crosby boy, or finish up Martyn's bandages before he bled out all over the place. In her mind, Jill flashed back to seconds ago, when she'd caught a glimpse of the girl's back who had attacked him. She still couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew that girl.
"So..." she inquired toward Jack, "Who're we dealing with first? Martyn, or..." she nodded toward Sidney.
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So that's where I know him from! Aaron was a huge hockey fan back in the day, I think the only thing he loved more than hockey was baseball. Jack thought, slightly grinning in recognition of the celebrity. Lowering his gun, he nodded at Jill's question.
"You take care of Martyn, I'll get Mr.Crosby over here." he replied, looking back to Sidney. "A pocketknife can kill just as much as a gun can, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to hand it over." he said in response to the "pocketknife" comment, "And while you're at it, care to tell me why exactly you ran into the wall?"
Even if he's a big hockey star, I can't trust him. You can't trust anyone in this scenario, where only one can live.
OOC: I know it's short, I had to get one in quick.
"You take care of Martyn, I'll get Mr.Crosby over here." he replied, looking back to Sidney. "A pocketknife can kill just as much as a gun can, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to hand it over." he said in response to the "pocketknife" comment, "And while you're at it, care to tell me why exactly you ran into the wall?"
Even if he's a big hockey star, I can't trust him. You can't trust anyone in this scenario, where only one can live.
OOC: I know it's short, I had to get one in quick.
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Knowing full well that he may have been in a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' situation, Sidney reached into his pocket, pulled out the switchblade, and tossed it to Jack's feet. Sighing a little, he slowly pulled himself to his feet, wincing as his injured foot took on weight. Stepping on the jagged stone had not only aggrivated his gunshot wound, but in the process, he'd rolled his ankle a little, and so it hurt as well. Looking at Jack, he shrugged a little.
"Why I ran into the wall? Believe me, it wasn't planned. I was running through the jungle when I stepped on a rock, or something, rolled my ankle, so in the pain, I kind of just clenched my eyes shut but forgot to stop running. Thus, my little entrance. Another fun little stroke of luck to befall me on my time in this wonderful little game."
The sarcasm in Sidney's voice was thick, and he finally took a look around himself to try and gage the situation. It seemed as though the three other teens standing around the warehouse were alone, and were likely using the large building for shelter. A few bodies lay scattered about, a grim reminder that they were all playing for their lives. Sidney couldn't help but admit that he was surprised about the fact that he'd almost begun to accept the bodies.
You CANNOT, under any circumstances, begin to see those bodies on the ground as trivial! This is screaming at you, Sid - you're playing for keeps, and the loser doesn't get to go home! Means that in all likelihood, everyone here will die by the end of this. Shitty odds, for sure. Couple that with the fact that by the looks on the faces of at least two of the people here - they know who you are, so if people want to make a name for themselves by killing you, then - you're fucked!
"So now that you all know who I am, if you didn't before, can I ask who all of you are?"
Sighing, Sidney's tone softened a little, hoping that these three wouldn't kill him as soon as introduce themselves.
"And...I'm sorry, it's just...that it's been kind of a rough couple of days..."
"Why I ran into the wall? Believe me, it wasn't planned. I was running through the jungle when I stepped on a rock, or something, rolled my ankle, so in the pain, I kind of just clenched my eyes shut but forgot to stop running. Thus, my little entrance. Another fun little stroke of luck to befall me on my time in this wonderful little game."
The sarcasm in Sidney's voice was thick, and he finally took a look around himself to try and gage the situation. It seemed as though the three other teens standing around the warehouse were alone, and were likely using the large building for shelter. A few bodies lay scattered about, a grim reminder that they were all playing for their lives. Sidney couldn't help but admit that he was surprised about the fact that he'd almost begun to accept the bodies.
You CANNOT, under any circumstances, begin to see those bodies on the ground as trivial! This is screaming at you, Sid - you're playing for keeps, and the loser doesn't get to go home! Means that in all likelihood, everyone here will die by the end of this. Shitty odds, for sure. Couple that with the fact that by the looks on the faces of at least two of the people here - they know who you are, so if people want to make a name for themselves by killing you, then - you're fucked!
"So now that you all know who I am, if you didn't before, can I ask who all of you are?"
Sighing, Sidney's tone softened a little, hoping that these three wouldn't kill him as soon as introduce themselves.
"And...I'm sorry, it's just...that it's been kind of a rough couple of days..."
Keeping his eyes on Crosby, Jack bent down and picked up the switchblade, putting it in the same pocket as his revolver ammo.
"Name's Jack O'Connor, and trust me I know fully well how rough these past eight days have been." he said to Sidney's request of introduction, finally putting the gun away. "To be frank, I still can't trust you, if only because of our circumstances, but you look pretty fucked up. How about you stay here for a bit? Get rested up or something. Least I can do for one of the greatest hockey stars since Wayne Gretsky."
Besides, he thought, still not trusting Crosby, this way I can keep an eye on him. But is it a good idea? I don't know about Martyn and Jill, but I'm running low on food and water. He'll just weigh us down in that instance. I guess I can just send him away if it gets that far.
"Name's Jack O'Connor, and trust me I know fully well how rough these past eight days have been." he said to Sidney's request of introduction, finally putting the gun away. "To be frank, I still can't trust you, if only because of our circumstances, but you look pretty fucked up. How about you stay here for a bit? Get rested up or something. Least I can do for one of the greatest hockey stars since Wayne Gretsky."
Besides, he thought, still not trusting Crosby, this way I can keep an eye on him. But is it a good idea? I don't know about Martyn and Jill, but I'm running low on food and water. He'll just weigh us down in that instance. I guess I can just send him away if it gets that far.
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ZigZaggerty*
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Hannah was afraid, so very afraid. She felt as if around every corner was someone who wanted to kill her, the face of that boy with the spear was stuck in her mind’s eye. She couldn’t let that happen again. She couldn’t let anyone else die, she would never let anyone else die.
“Oh Kurt...What should I do...” Hannah whispered as the tears flowed freely down her face. She remember the day after he had killed himself she had cried so much, but he would have wanted her to be strong. He would have wanted her to save the lives of the people stuck in this with her.
“I know what to do Kurt...Thank you...” She said clearly to herself as she ran, her tears ceased to flow from her blue eyes as she smiled. Now was the time for action, for a revolution against those that would mercilessly kill without reason. It was her Revolution.
Sounds came from ahead of her, a building loomed into her view. A large warehouse, and a guy on the ground with a bloody neck.
Hannah walked forward into the clearing and she took out her gun from her bag and held it at ready, she opened her mouth and spoke.
“What’s going on? I don’t want to shoot, why is that boy injured?” Hannah spoke clearly and loudly as she kept the gun slightly raised in her right hand.
“Please don’t give me a reason to shoot...”
“Oh Kurt...What should I do...” Hannah whispered as the tears flowed freely down her face. She remember the day after he had killed himself she had cried so much, but he would have wanted her to be strong. He would have wanted her to save the lives of the people stuck in this with her.
“I know what to do Kurt...Thank you...” She said clearly to herself as she ran, her tears ceased to flow from her blue eyes as she smiled. Now was the time for action, for a revolution against those that would mercilessly kill without reason. It was her Revolution.
Sounds came from ahead of her, a building loomed into her view. A large warehouse, and a guy on the ground with a bloody neck.
Hannah walked forward into the clearing and she took out her gun from her bag and held it at ready, she opened her mouth and spoke.
“What’s going on? I don’t want to shoot, why is that boy injured?” Hannah spoke clearly and loudly as she kept the gun slightly raised in her right hand.
“Please don’t give me a reason to shoot...”
Only half listening as Jack interrogated Sidney Crosby, then stripped him of his weapons, Jill was more concerned about the damage the psychotic who had ran off into the bushes only moments ago had done to Martyn's back. All but jerking his shirt up to reveal the nasty looking wound, Jill used her foot to drag the daypack closer to her. Removing the water bottle Jack had used a moment ago, Jill repeated the process he had done earlier, almost mimicking it, attempting to clean out the wound.
"I'm sorry..." Jill muttered quietly, imagining this cleansing action probably caused nearly as much pain as Jack's had with Martyn's neck.
This didn't take nearly as much effort as the wound on his throat, seeing as the wound on his back hadn't had the opportunity to absorb much dirt yet. Removing the bandages from the pack, she wrapped them tightly around the length of Martyn's chest to hault the bleeding before finally lowering his shirt back over the bandages.
By this point, Crosby had inquired as to who they were, being as they seemed to know him as quite the hockey star that he had been back in the United States. Briefly, she turned her attention to Jack as he introduced himself and Jack offered him the opportunity to stay with them. Shrugging lightly, Jill nodded as if to concur with Jack's words. After all, what could he do unarmed? Even if he was a player, she or Jack could easily blow his brains out before he could even make an attempt at the three. And after what had just happened to Martyn, Jill was certainly on high alert.
"I'm Jill," she finally spoke up, "And... Jack's right... you can stay here, so long as you don't pose a threat to any of us. Plus..." she smiled faintly, "I'm sort of a fan."
It had been a long time since Jill had thought about many the evening she had spent with friends crashed out in her living room watching hockey on her dad's big screen plasma television. Luxuries like that were nonexistent now, after all. Her thoughts were quickly jerked away from that time and place again as a new arrival came into view... a girl with bright red hair, pointing a gun directly at them. In retaliation, Jill quickly grabbed her gun, which she'd placed on the ground near her moments before while tending to Martyn, and pointed it at the other girl, aiming for her head.
"Listen, little girl," she barked in a tone that surprised even herself, "I'm getting real tired of people pointing guns at me and interrogating me. I don't know who you think you are, but I'll give you a word of advice... don't... DON'T... come running into a group of people with your weapon drawn and barking orders. It's a real good way to earn a bullet in your face."
Still turned in her awkward sitting position, Jill lowered her aim with the gun, down to the girl's chest. Shaking her head somewhat, it finally registered to her that this new girl had asked her a question. Out of civility, she decided to answer her.
"His name's Martyn, he's my friend, and he's injured because some crazy bitch out there stole his gun and tried to slit his throat while he was standing guard for... for us."
With that, she nodded toward Jack, signifying who the other person in the term "us" had been. Shaking her head somewhat, her attention all but turned from Martyn and affixated itself on the new girl. She didn't seem much of a threat, in fact, she seemed rather scared. Despite that, the whole incident had pissed Jill off. Had they been hostile, that girl would've met her end here and now. It had been a foolish move on her part. Eight days on an island where any moment could be your last would make anyone jumpy and a little paranoid, and Jill Gatling was no exception. Clearing her throat, she addressed the girl once again.
"Lower your weapon, or I'll assume you're hostile and fire. I've come far too far to lose either of them to some nutcase, and I've already come way too close to that once today. So... chill out and drop the gun, alright?"
"I'm sorry..." Jill muttered quietly, imagining this cleansing action probably caused nearly as much pain as Jack's had with Martyn's neck.
This didn't take nearly as much effort as the wound on his throat, seeing as the wound on his back hadn't had the opportunity to absorb much dirt yet. Removing the bandages from the pack, she wrapped them tightly around the length of Martyn's chest to hault the bleeding before finally lowering his shirt back over the bandages.
By this point, Crosby had inquired as to who they were, being as they seemed to know him as quite the hockey star that he had been back in the United States. Briefly, she turned her attention to Jack as he introduced himself and Jack offered him the opportunity to stay with them. Shrugging lightly, Jill nodded as if to concur with Jack's words. After all, what could he do unarmed? Even if he was a player, she or Jack could easily blow his brains out before he could even make an attempt at the three. And after what had just happened to Martyn, Jill was certainly on high alert.
"I'm Jill," she finally spoke up, "And... Jack's right... you can stay here, so long as you don't pose a threat to any of us. Plus..." she smiled faintly, "I'm sort of a fan."
It had been a long time since Jill had thought about many the evening she had spent with friends crashed out in her living room watching hockey on her dad's big screen plasma television. Luxuries like that were nonexistent now, after all. Her thoughts were quickly jerked away from that time and place again as a new arrival came into view... a girl with bright red hair, pointing a gun directly at them. In retaliation, Jill quickly grabbed her gun, which she'd placed on the ground near her moments before while tending to Martyn, and pointed it at the other girl, aiming for her head.
"Listen, little girl," she barked in a tone that surprised even herself, "I'm getting real tired of people pointing guns at me and interrogating me. I don't know who you think you are, but I'll give you a word of advice... don't... DON'T... come running into a group of people with your weapon drawn and barking orders. It's a real good way to earn a bullet in your face."
Still turned in her awkward sitting position, Jill lowered her aim with the gun, down to the girl's chest. Shaking her head somewhat, it finally registered to her that this new girl had asked her a question. Out of civility, she decided to answer her.
"His name's Martyn, he's my friend, and he's injured because some crazy bitch out there stole his gun and tried to slit his throat while he was standing guard for... for us."
With that, she nodded toward Jack, signifying who the other person in the term "us" had been. Shaking her head somewhat, her attention all but turned from Martyn and affixated itself on the new girl. She didn't seem much of a threat, in fact, she seemed rather scared. Despite that, the whole incident had pissed Jill off. Had they been hostile, that girl would've met her end here and now. It had been a foolish move on her part. Eight days on an island where any moment could be your last would make anyone jumpy and a little paranoid, and Jill Gatling was no exception. Clearing her throat, she addressed the girl once again.
"Lower your weapon, or I'll assume you're hostile and fire. I've come far too far to lose either of them to some nutcase, and I've already come way too close to that once today. So... chill out and drop the gun, alright?"
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"What she said." Jack piped up, finally coming out of his surpised silence, taking out his gun and leveling it with the space between the new girls eyes. Like Jill, he was getting both pissed off and a bit paranoid, but to a lesser degree. Was it a bad idea to turn his attention from Sidney? Perhaps. But a potentially psychotic girl witha gun had priority over a wounded and unarmed hockey player.
Fucking A, what's with people dropping in here?! At this rate every player on the island is going to mosey on through, taking potshots at us as they please! I'm really getting annoyed. he thought, tightening his finger on the trigger.
"Way I see it, you have three choices; one, you put the gun away and we can talk this out; two, you give us the gun and get the hell out of here; or three, you get a bullet in that pretty face of yours." he said, trying to sound threatening and hostile. "So what's it going to be, eh? Door #1, Door #2 or Door #3?"
If I can scare her away, maybe we won't have to fight...
Fucking A, what's with people dropping in here?! At this rate every player on the island is going to mosey on through, taking potshots at us as they please! I'm really getting annoyed. he thought, tightening his finger on the trigger.
"Way I see it, you have three choices; one, you put the gun away and we can talk this out; two, you give us the gun and get the hell out of here; or three, you get a bullet in that pretty face of yours." he said, trying to sound threatening and hostile. "So what's it going to be, eh? Door #1, Door #2 or Door #3?"
If I can scare her away, maybe we won't have to fight...
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ZigZaggerty*
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- Joined: Fri Sep 07, 2018 3:52 pm
Hannah nodded at the boys words and put her gun away, she didn't want to start a fight. She didn't want anyone to die.
"I-I'm sorry...I guess I'm just being cautious. Please, that boy looks bad. Is there any way I can help?" She pleaded. Tears began to flow down her cheeks.
"Please don't shoot me! Please!"
"I-I'm sorry...I guess I'm just being cautious. Please, that boy looks bad. Is there any way I can help?" She pleaded. Tears began to flow down her cheeks.
"Please don't shoot me! Please!"
Seeing the girls compliance, Jack lowered his gun to his side, but kept it in hand in case this was a case of a siren trying to lure in prey (the girl seemed attractive enough to pull the "siren" act, if that was what she had in mind).
"Don't beg," he said, keeping his tone of possible hostility and distrust, "I hate when people beg." hearing the girls question, he gestured to Martyn. "Not much you can do for Martyn right now, we've pretty much taken care of everything. Now for my own question: who are you? You obviously aren't playing, since you haven't shot at us yet." if anyone listened carefully, they could pick up a tone that indicated he was trying to sound like he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security (all part of his "make Danya think they're playing" act).
Isn't she from Barry Coleson? I think she is, but I'm not sure. Didn't really pay attention to the other students.
"Don't beg," he said, keeping his tone of possible hostility and distrust, "I hate when people beg." hearing the girls question, he gestured to Martyn. "Not much you can do for Martyn right now, we've pretty much taken care of everything. Now for my own question: who are you? You obviously aren't playing, since you haven't shot at us yet." if anyone listened carefully, they could pick up a tone that indicated he was trying to sound like he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security (all part of his "make Danya think they're playing" act).
Isn't she from Barry Coleson? I think she is, but I'm not sure. Didn't really pay attention to the other students.
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ZigZaggerty*
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Fri Sep 07, 2018 3:52 pm
"I-I'm Hannah Juett. I'm from Ann Arbor High, I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to protect those who I can!" Hannah said, she sat down a a yard away from the people.
"What happened to him? Did you get attacked?" She asked, she didn't want to leave these people. She didn't want to be alone again.
"What happened to him? Did you get attacked?" She asked, she didn't want to leave these people. She didn't want to be alone again.
Sidney Crosby looked at the new girl, eyebrows raising a little. There was one thing that this girl was, and that was attractive. Of course, in an instance such as this, it hardly mattered, for they were all likely dead anyways, and any such diversion would probably result in that coming far quicker than anyone would have anticipated. In response to the girl's question, Sidney felt his sarcasm rising again.
"Sure, they were attacked. We've all been attacked, haven't we? You can't go anywhere on this blasted island without getting attacked by some form of psychopath, it seems. Goddamn, you're all from some school, right? Barry...something, or other? I've never seen so many closet psychopaths in one school before...yes, they were attacked. So was I, so's everyone else on this island. I mean, come on. You wouldn't be so scared if you hadn't been, right?"
Looking over at Jill, still a little surprised by her outburst, Sidney couldn't help but quip back at that, too.
"And hey, you know...give the girl a break, I'm sure that you probably point a gun at the majority of the people that you run into on this island too, otherwise, well, you'd be dead. We're all fighting for our lives here, none of us gets to leave unless everyone else is dead, so yeah, we're all going to try and avoid getting ourselves dead. You may have had enough of people pointing a gun at you, but damnit, it's going to happen again, stop pretending it isn't."
Sighing bitterly, Sidney was almost amazed at how sarcastic he was being. Softening his tone a little, he looked at Jack.
"Now...look, can we move this inside? It'd make far more sense, because...you know, that way nobody else can get the jump on us, as it were. I'm sure we could all use the rest...I know I'm getting a little...jumpy, myself."
"Sure, they were attacked. We've all been attacked, haven't we? You can't go anywhere on this blasted island without getting attacked by some form of psychopath, it seems. Goddamn, you're all from some school, right? Barry...something, or other? I've never seen so many closet psychopaths in one school before...yes, they were attacked. So was I, so's everyone else on this island. I mean, come on. You wouldn't be so scared if you hadn't been, right?"
Looking over at Jill, still a little surprised by her outburst, Sidney couldn't help but quip back at that, too.
"And hey, you know...give the girl a break, I'm sure that you probably point a gun at the majority of the people that you run into on this island too, otherwise, well, you'd be dead. We're all fighting for our lives here, none of us gets to leave unless everyone else is dead, so yeah, we're all going to try and avoid getting ourselves dead. You may have had enough of people pointing a gun at you, but damnit, it's going to happen again, stop pretending it isn't."
Sighing bitterly, Sidney was almost amazed at how sarcastic he was being. Softening his tone a little, he looked at Jack.
"Now...look, can we move this inside? It'd make far more sense, because...you know, that way nobody else can get the jump on us, as it were. I'm sure we could all use the rest...I know I'm getting a little...jumpy, myself."