((Marty J. Lovett and Joshua Krakowski continued from Life's a Beach))
Jesus... Who'd of thought finding a place to chillax would be so damn HARD?
Joshua Krakowski hadn't a clue just how long he'd been walking for with Marty slung over his back. It felt as if it had been three, four, or maybe even five hours since they'd left the beach. And as of yet, Joshua just couldn't find anywhere worthwhile to take five.
He'd been hoping that they'd come across a building of some description, like a shack or something. Somewhere with a roof over their heads and maybe even a nice bed to rest on. God knows how much Joshua missed sleeping in one of those... With some fluffy pillows, a comfy duvet, the works. He'd cut his own arm off for a soft bed right about now.
Well, no point moping about it... God, I wonder how the others are doing?
He turned back to observe the others to see how they were doing. Weary and tired from the look of it... Come to think of it, so was he. Roofed Shelter or not, they had to find a spot to kick back and relax before somebody dropped dead from exhaustion.
*Sigh* Damn. I guess we could just...... Hey wait, what's that noise? It sounds like... A stream, of some sort.
Sure enough, it was a stream of some sort. A long, thin stream which suddenly blocked their path. The would-be rocker was about to consider trying to find a way around it, or maybe even wading through it when he spotted a large willow tree further along. One which seemed to provide both ample cover and a temporary place of refuge... PERFECT!
Motioning the others to follow, Joshua quickly made his way over to the tall willow and laid his friend gently at it's base, making sure to not let his head fall back and slam against the tree or something stupid like that. It'd be incredibly annoying for him to have gone all this way only for Marty to then break his neck because he hadn't been careful enough. He seemed fine now... Still out cold, but fine nevertheless. The fact that he was actually still alive was enough to put a smile on Joshua at that moment. He'd done it! He'd actually done it! He'd found Marty, alive and... Well, unconscious. But after hearing about Daniel Vaughan's horrific death on the first announcement Joshua was more then glad to know that Marty hadn't met a similarly horrific fate.
Still, now THAT problem was taken care of, all he had to do now was find out why his friend had been hit over the head with a crowbar in the first place. There had to be SOME reason as to why that girl (Michelle or somethin'?) would have done such a thing. Chances are, they probably freaked him out or something. Marty always was a bit skittish, especially around girls. And with all the crazy crap going on with the collars and everything, it wouldn't of taken much to cause the poor guy to panic...
Anyway, better start asking some questions.
He stood up from where he'd laid Marty and turned to the others, scratching his head as he considered what to ask them.
"Hey, uh, sorry about freakin' out earlier. Its just I... Lost some good friends of mine the other day." He said, the memories of the announcement and the tragic events surrounding it returning briefly to haunt him. "So I was kinda worried when I saw Marty get hit over the head and everything... What exactly happened back there anyway?"
Wind in the Willow
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chitoryu12*
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:07 am
((Jake Crimson continued from Morning Comes Slowly))
Jake felt like utter shit. Combat boots and leather pants are not conducive to walking long distances on a hot day. He had spent almost the entire third day of his stay on the island walking, after spending most of Day 2 unconscious. He had no way of knowing this, of course. He had no clue how long he was out, and had lost all track of time. As far as he knew, he was still there. And still fucked.
It was an endless sequence of walking, resting, coughing, and drinking water. And occasional pissing. He was pretty sure most trees on the island hated him now.
So it was Day 4 when he finally managed to find rest. Another forest, almost exactly like the one he woke up in, but slightly different. He caught a sound he recognized only from movies and TV. He had never heard it before in real life, being a city boy. But he knew it when he heard it.
Running water.
He practically jogged toward the sound, kept off-balance by a cinderblock in one hand, a duffel bag over his chest, and an evil jackhammer in his skull. So it was more of a coordinated stumble.
He found it. A nice, clear stream of actual running water. Not that stagnant crap he awoke in on the first day. He fell to his knees, splashing water on his face. The cool liquid felt amazing on his body, the most refreshing thing in life.
Of course, every good moment has to be ruined. And this one was ruined by talking.
Jake suddenly had a VERY bad flashback to the last time he ended up around a group of people. Someone got his head blown off. Literally, contrary to the common metaphorical use. And then he spotted movement by a willow tree about ten yards away, on the opposite side of the bank.
He had what could only be described as a freakout retreat. Abandoning his gray weapon/mortal enemy by the bank, he scrambled for cover. He found it in a nearby bush, which happened to look quite similar to the one he had left two days ago. He practically dove behind the shrubbery, rolling onto his side as the daypack he stupidly left around his torso threw him off balance.
Fucking A, who's going to get shot now?
Jake felt like utter shit. Combat boots and leather pants are not conducive to walking long distances on a hot day. He had spent almost the entire third day of his stay on the island walking, after spending most of Day 2 unconscious. He had no way of knowing this, of course. He had no clue how long he was out, and had lost all track of time. As far as he knew, he was still there. And still fucked.
It was an endless sequence of walking, resting, coughing, and drinking water. And occasional pissing. He was pretty sure most trees on the island hated him now.
So it was Day 4 when he finally managed to find rest. Another forest, almost exactly like the one he woke up in, but slightly different. He caught a sound he recognized only from movies and TV. He had never heard it before in real life, being a city boy. But he knew it when he heard it.
Running water.
He practically jogged toward the sound, kept off-balance by a cinderblock in one hand, a duffel bag over his chest, and an evil jackhammer in his skull. So it was more of a coordinated stumble.
He found it. A nice, clear stream of actual running water. Not that stagnant crap he awoke in on the first day. He fell to his knees, splashing water on his face. The cool liquid felt amazing on his body, the most refreshing thing in life.
Of course, every good moment has to be ruined. And this one was ruined by talking.
Jake suddenly had a VERY bad flashback to the last time he ended up around a group of people. Someone got his head blown off. Literally, contrary to the common metaphorical use. And then he spotted movement by a willow tree about ten yards away, on the opposite side of the bank.
He had what could only be described as a freakout retreat. Abandoning his gray weapon/mortal enemy by the bank, he scrambled for cover. He found it in a nearby bush, which happened to look quite similar to the one he had left two days ago. He practically dove behind the shrubbery, rolling onto his side as the daypack he stupidly left around his torso threw him off balance.
Fucking A, who's going to get shot now?
((Aston Bennett continues from Life's a Beach))
So for the last...what, day or so, Aston took it upon herself to have some extra responsibility.
Watch the girl.
She'd already proved herself quite the dangerous person to be around, what with her little action back at the beach, and even without her weapon, which Aston now hoisted in her left hand, she was still someone she needed to watch. This proved quite difficult, because despite her protests, the boy carrying Marty didn't stop once. So her so-called master security plan against the multi-haired girl was reduced to "look over her shoulder every so often to check if she's got shifty eyes".
Still, at least she had another weapon, that was an infinite plus.
At last, long last, they stopped near a stream. Letting out a sigh of relief, Aston jogged towards the water and, dropping everything she carried on the bank behind her, dunked her head into the shallow water. Clenching her eyes shut (she didn't need to be blind this early in the game) she soaked her fraying hair in the stream for almost a minute.
One minute was up.
Lifting her head out of the water, she glanced at her belongings again. Still untouched. She shook her head a little bit dry, and walked back to her belongings. Piling everything into her bag, and throwing Marty's bag over her shoulder, she took it upon herself to try and spike her hair again. Ever since her wash at the stream a little while before she met these guys, it was falling apart. Aston ran her fingers through her hair and sought out solitary groups of curling hairs to clump together into a spike. As she noticed the boy laying his friend down, she tried to make one particular curl stick up.
After about five seconds, it fell to the wayside and, grunting in frustration, Aston gave up.
So then the questions started rolling from the rocker guy. What had happened to them to make them start to turn on the small boy in front of them?
Well, Aston was up, so she answered before the rest of them.
"Yeah, everyone freaked out a bit. Your friend there freaked out, then I just...got a little stressed and yeah, when I get stressed, I get angry, and I tend to get a bit excessive when I'm angry. I think I lost your friend's tent as well. And then..." Aston turned her head to Michelle, and her glare at her was almost like icy daggers ripping through a sheet "This girl decided to shut him up by knocking him out. I suppose you saw that bit, so I don't think I need to explain any more."
Sticking her tounge out of the side of her mouth just a bit, she looked around Joshua to the small short-haired boy laying on the tree trunk.
"I hope your friends okay. I don't think that hit over the head did him any good. He could probably have a concussion if we're lucky, or some brain damage. It's not like a cartoon or anything, he's not gonna brush this off easily. If we're not lucky..." Aston avoided the rocker's gaze for the next sentence "There's a chance he might not wake up at all."
Yes, she was being rather melodramatic, but she had to take a bit of charge here. She'd seen first hand the effects of such an assault on the head, though not on humans, so if she could just get a look at him...
"Do you mind...if I have a look at him? Just to check the extent of the bruising and damage and stuff?"
So for the last...what, day or so, Aston took it upon herself to have some extra responsibility.
Watch the girl.
She'd already proved herself quite the dangerous person to be around, what with her little action back at the beach, and even without her weapon, which Aston now hoisted in her left hand, she was still someone she needed to watch. This proved quite difficult, because despite her protests, the boy carrying Marty didn't stop once. So her so-called master security plan against the multi-haired girl was reduced to "look over her shoulder every so often to check if she's got shifty eyes".
Still, at least she had another weapon, that was an infinite plus.
At last, long last, they stopped near a stream. Letting out a sigh of relief, Aston jogged towards the water and, dropping everything she carried on the bank behind her, dunked her head into the shallow water. Clenching her eyes shut (she didn't need to be blind this early in the game) she soaked her fraying hair in the stream for almost a minute.
One minute was up.
Lifting her head out of the water, she glanced at her belongings again. Still untouched. She shook her head a little bit dry, and walked back to her belongings. Piling everything into her bag, and throwing Marty's bag over her shoulder, she took it upon herself to try and spike her hair again. Ever since her wash at the stream a little while before she met these guys, it was falling apart. Aston ran her fingers through her hair and sought out solitary groups of curling hairs to clump together into a spike. As she noticed the boy laying his friend down, she tried to make one particular curl stick up.
After about five seconds, it fell to the wayside and, grunting in frustration, Aston gave up.
So then the questions started rolling from the rocker guy. What had happened to them to make them start to turn on the small boy in front of them?
Well, Aston was up, so she answered before the rest of them.
"Yeah, everyone freaked out a bit. Your friend there freaked out, then I just...got a little stressed and yeah, when I get stressed, I get angry, and I tend to get a bit excessive when I'm angry. I think I lost your friend's tent as well. And then..." Aston turned her head to Michelle, and her glare at her was almost like icy daggers ripping through a sheet "This girl decided to shut him up by knocking him out. I suppose you saw that bit, so I don't think I need to explain any more."
Sticking her tounge out of the side of her mouth just a bit, she looked around Joshua to the small short-haired boy laying on the tree trunk.
"I hope your friends okay. I don't think that hit over the head did him any good. He could probably have a concussion if we're lucky, or some brain damage. It's not like a cartoon or anything, he's not gonna brush this off easily. If we're not lucky..." Aston avoided the rocker's gaze for the next sentence "There's a chance he might not wake up at all."
Yes, she was being rather melodramatic, but she had to take a bit of charge here. She'd seen first hand the effects of such an assault on the head, though not on humans, so if she could just get a look at him...
"Do you mind...if I have a look at him? Just to check the extent of the bruising and damage and stuff?"
((Anna Chase continued from Life's A Beach))
Why was she doing this...
Chase had been sluggish this entire time, partly due to being tired and hungry, and because of all the drama she had been put through lately. She tried her best to persevere, but sometimes she would kind of trip on her own feet, only to hoist herself back up again.
She didn't even know why she kept following them. They were probably batshit and would kill each other at a moment's notice. God, she really couldn't trust anyone here, could she? She was probably alone. Dawne and Jon were dead. Rekka was probably scared out of his wits at best, and Brendan was probably spazzing out elsewhere. Come to think of it, what about Erik? Oh god, she didn't want to have to fight him too. She didn't want Erik to die too. She didn't even remember about him. And yet he was here. He was here, and she didn't even know him that well, so she couldn't even picture how he'd react or what he was going through. She knew Brendan would be upset if one day he... was gone. Brendan didn't deserve that. Erik was a good man from what she could tell, and they seemed happy together. She hoped they found each other, or maybe if they found her.
Did she want them to find her, though? Did she want to have to deal with that one big question that would inevitably come up if she ever found them? She wanted to know if they were safe, but then there was the issue of...
No, don't think about that.
Erik and Brendan were fine. They had to be. Maybe they would have better luck than her. Maybe.
Ever since the beach, Chase had become particularly jumpy. Ever since she realized just how many people were stressed out and most likely crazy, even the sound of her own footsteps made her nervous. For the longest time, she would stare at Marty and Retro-Guy, and then back at the two other girls. To be honest, she was surprised they lasted this long without violence erupting again. It seemed mostly quiet, melancholy even. Like death. Or what happens when a machine is turned off for the first time in a while. Or an abandoned library. Or an abandoned schoolyard.
A stream. A stream? Yes, a stream. Nearby them. It babbled so noisily. Now that she thought of it, there was something soothing about water. She hadn't been able to enjoy the beach, that she just remembered. But hearing the soft murmurs of the stream slightly comforted her.
Retro Guy found a place to put Marty, it seemed. As of right now, they were under what appeared to be a willow tree. Here? Well, willow trees grew by water, that she knew. Just where in the world were they, though? An island, yes, but a fairground? Bears? Willow trees?
As he beckoned to them, Chase ran forward, hoping to get to them before the other two did. Dear god, who knew what those two would do in particular. Sure, Spiky Head took the other girl's weapon, but that meant she had two now.
She didn't expect to stay with the group for much longer. Just to check on Marty, see if he's alright, and go on her way. Who knew what Retro-Guy and Marty would do if they attacked her? She was more worried about the other two, but she was still paranoid about the girls.
As she stepped towards the boys, she could see the girl with the spiky hair approaching. Though it wasn't as spiky as before. It seemed wet... what the hell was she doing? Taking her head for a nice little dunk? To be honest, that only reminded her that she hadn't even changed her clothes in days, and they were starting to itch.
She babbled on about being angry and doing stupid things. Then again, this was the same girl who said she was going to live because she had a gun. That wasn't anger, was it? That was insanity, even if temporary. And that other girl was bad news, too. If she really wanted the argument to end, she could have just gone for Spiky Head.
And yet, because of her words, she knew that the other girl wasn't going to react so well. She didn't have a weapon this time, but who knew?
Chase stepped towards the willow tree and ran her hand against the bark, then knocked on it with her knuckles. She gazed at it, looking at it like she had never seen a tree before. After a while, she buried her head against it. But as the other girl rambled on about how he might not wake up and how she should inspect him for bruises, Chase lifted her head off the bark and said what was on her mind just a few seconds ago.
"Hey... doesn't willow bark contain a major ingredient of aspirin? If he wakes up and has head pain and no one has painkillers we could..."
She paused.
"Actually, it sounds stupid..." she muttered, mostly to herself.
Seriously, scrapping random trees for medicinal effects that could do anything, including poison? Yeah, that was stupid. Chase was no expert on plants and how they work on the body. So she shouldn't try that.
Crouching down to get a better look at Marty, she asked "Do you think he's... he's alright?"
As the other girl had pointed out, unconsciousness usually meant brain damage. There was a chance he was a goner. All to shut him up... that girl might have killed him!
Why was she doing this...
Chase had been sluggish this entire time, partly due to being tired and hungry, and because of all the drama she had been put through lately. She tried her best to persevere, but sometimes she would kind of trip on her own feet, only to hoist herself back up again.
She didn't even know why she kept following them. They were probably batshit and would kill each other at a moment's notice. God, she really couldn't trust anyone here, could she? She was probably alone. Dawne and Jon were dead. Rekka was probably scared out of his wits at best, and Brendan was probably spazzing out elsewhere. Come to think of it, what about Erik? Oh god, she didn't want to have to fight him too. She didn't want Erik to die too. She didn't even remember about him. And yet he was here. He was here, and she didn't even know him that well, so she couldn't even picture how he'd react or what he was going through. She knew Brendan would be upset if one day he... was gone. Brendan didn't deserve that. Erik was a good man from what she could tell, and they seemed happy together. She hoped they found each other, or maybe if they found her.
Did she want them to find her, though? Did she want to have to deal with that one big question that would inevitably come up if she ever found them? She wanted to know if they were safe, but then there was the issue of...
No, don't think about that.
Erik and Brendan were fine. They had to be. Maybe they would have better luck than her. Maybe.
Ever since the beach, Chase had become particularly jumpy. Ever since she realized just how many people were stressed out and most likely crazy, even the sound of her own footsteps made her nervous. For the longest time, she would stare at Marty and Retro-Guy, and then back at the two other girls. To be honest, she was surprised they lasted this long without violence erupting again. It seemed mostly quiet, melancholy even. Like death. Or what happens when a machine is turned off for the first time in a while. Or an abandoned library. Or an abandoned schoolyard.
A stream. A stream? Yes, a stream. Nearby them. It babbled so noisily. Now that she thought of it, there was something soothing about water. She hadn't been able to enjoy the beach, that she just remembered. But hearing the soft murmurs of the stream slightly comforted her.
Retro Guy found a place to put Marty, it seemed. As of right now, they were under what appeared to be a willow tree. Here? Well, willow trees grew by water, that she knew. Just where in the world were they, though? An island, yes, but a fairground? Bears? Willow trees?
As he beckoned to them, Chase ran forward, hoping to get to them before the other two did. Dear god, who knew what those two would do in particular. Sure, Spiky Head took the other girl's weapon, but that meant she had two now.
She didn't expect to stay with the group for much longer. Just to check on Marty, see if he's alright, and go on her way. Who knew what Retro-Guy and Marty would do if they attacked her? She was more worried about the other two, but she was still paranoid about the girls.
As she stepped towards the boys, she could see the girl with the spiky hair approaching. Though it wasn't as spiky as before. It seemed wet... what the hell was she doing? Taking her head for a nice little dunk? To be honest, that only reminded her that she hadn't even changed her clothes in days, and they were starting to itch.
She babbled on about being angry and doing stupid things. Then again, this was the same girl who said she was going to live because she had a gun. That wasn't anger, was it? That was insanity, even if temporary. And that other girl was bad news, too. If she really wanted the argument to end, she could have just gone for Spiky Head.
And yet, because of her words, she knew that the other girl wasn't going to react so well. She didn't have a weapon this time, but who knew?
Chase stepped towards the willow tree and ran her hand against the bark, then knocked on it with her knuckles. She gazed at it, looking at it like she had never seen a tree before. After a while, she buried her head against it. But as the other girl rambled on about how he might not wake up and how she should inspect him for bruises, Chase lifted her head off the bark and said what was on her mind just a few seconds ago.
"Hey... doesn't willow bark contain a major ingredient of aspirin? If he wakes up and has head pain and no one has painkillers we could..."
She paused.
"Actually, it sounds stupid..." she muttered, mostly to herself.
Seriously, scrapping random trees for medicinal effects that could do anything, including poison? Yeah, that was stupid. Chase was no expert on plants and how they work on the body. So she shouldn't try that.
Crouching down to get a better look at Marty, she asked "Do you think he's... he's alright?"
As the other girl had pointed out, unconsciousness usually meant brain damage. There was a chance he was a goner. All to shut him up... that girl might have killed him!
((Michelle O'Cain continued from Life's A Beach))
'Fuck that bitch...if she didn't have my crowbar, I'd be somewhere else doing something that might actually matter.' Michelle thought bitterly to herself as she tromped along with the others to...wherever the kid was taking them. Jeremy something. The name had been said several times as they were walking, but Michelle was too busy trying to ignore the aching pains in her feet to really remember what his clusterfuck of a last name was. She sighed inwardly, wishing she hadn't lost her head back at the beach. Hindsight was always 20/20. She just wished her foresight was also 20/20 instead of non-existent.
If it was, maybe she wouldn't be in this intolerable situation. They had been trekking for hours straight with no chance of rest and Michelle was starting to get a little stir crazy again. But after what happened at the beach, she had no doubt that either Jeremy or Aston would just fill her full of lead if she made one wrong move. The bitch probably wanted to kill her right now if those frequent lookbacks were any indication. She was tempted to just reach out and throttle the other girl and scream, "No, I'm not going to be fucking killing anyone right now! I'm tired, I want to rest, and so far, nothing I've wanted to work has worked! So point your eyes to the front of the fucking path or else I'll rip them out and shove them up your ass!"
Probably something with a bit less profanity. But alas, that had to be relegated to the realms of fantasy. 'What a shame...I bet that'd feel good.'
At least she had the shade to be thankful for. Nice, cool shade.
And, to use a tired phrase, a babbling brook. Despite her situation, Michelle couldn't help but be cheered by the fact that there was water nearby. It probably wasn't all that safe, but just having a natural source of water was probably an advantage most other students didn't have at the moment.
Good things apparently came in threes, because it was at this point that Jeremy finally decided that walking was for squares and stopped, placing his friend on the ground. And then came the question that she had been expecting. Namely what had happened to cause the whole goddamn situation in the first place. She kept her mouth shut, biting on her lower lip as she decided to let the others explain first. She didn't know if he'd believe a single thing she said...but if any of the others decided to color her in a more than unfavorable light, she wasn't going to be happy.
Aston began first and Michelle could only snort as she heard the other girl's explanation. 'A little stressed? I guess Danya is just a little evil and this is all some sort of little game that kids play when they're bored. You were freaking the fuck out as well, girl, and you were the one waving your fucking gun around the place.'
Michelle returned Aston's glare with full force, folding her arms as she narrowed her eyes. A brief flare of anger ran through her body as she heard Aston act all doctor-like, putting the somber soap opera lines to work as she offered to look at the unconscious kid. She grit her teeth, trying to calm herself down. 'Don't get pissed...don't last out. This is not the time. Save your anger. Savor it. Wait for an opportune time before unleashing it. There is a time and place for everything. She'll get hers, no doubt...'
The other girl suggested using willow bark as some sort of aspirin before immediately realizing just how dumb that sounded and crouching next to Marty. She also voiced concern over his status and Michelle bit her lower lip again. 'Come on. I don't think I hit him that hard...ugh...'
She hated getting painted as the villain...even though she was technically the villain. She still didn't regret hitting him. If it resulted in his death...then that was it. Marty simply had been unlucky enough to be caught in a situation caused by his own freaking out. And frankly, judging from his attitude, some other killer on the island, 'Maybe Maxwell or Sarah', would have made a show of him instead.
"Looks like it's my turn." Michelle said in a steady voice, turning her attention to Jeremy. "I came across your friend and her on the beach. I was curious to see what was going on, so I approached them. Your friend, to put it lightly, freaked out and started yelling and screaming at us. And Aston, as she so lightly puts it, 'got a little stressed', and started to wave her gun around and scream about how she would be alive because she had a gun. I was caught between two screaming little children and overreacted and hit your friend on the head with the crowbar."
"So that's it." She finished, her expression serious. "It was a mistake. I was angry and I wanted people to calm down, so I lashed out and hit the person closest to me. And that's when you came across us."
She looked away, a sigh escaping from her lips. "If it means anything, I hope your friend is okay and I wasn't trying to kill him."
'Fuck that bitch...if she didn't have my crowbar, I'd be somewhere else doing something that might actually matter.' Michelle thought bitterly to herself as she tromped along with the others to...wherever the kid was taking them. Jeremy something. The name had been said several times as they were walking, but Michelle was too busy trying to ignore the aching pains in her feet to really remember what his clusterfuck of a last name was. She sighed inwardly, wishing she hadn't lost her head back at the beach. Hindsight was always 20/20. She just wished her foresight was also 20/20 instead of non-existent.
If it was, maybe she wouldn't be in this intolerable situation. They had been trekking for hours straight with no chance of rest and Michelle was starting to get a little stir crazy again. But after what happened at the beach, she had no doubt that either Jeremy or Aston would just fill her full of lead if she made one wrong move. The bitch probably wanted to kill her right now if those frequent lookbacks were any indication. She was tempted to just reach out and throttle the other girl and scream, "No, I'm not going to be fucking killing anyone right now! I'm tired, I want to rest, and so far, nothing I've wanted to work has worked! So point your eyes to the front of the fucking path or else I'll rip them out and shove them up your ass!"
Probably something with a bit less profanity. But alas, that had to be relegated to the realms of fantasy. 'What a shame...I bet that'd feel good.'
At least she had the shade to be thankful for. Nice, cool shade.
And, to use a tired phrase, a babbling brook. Despite her situation, Michelle couldn't help but be cheered by the fact that there was water nearby. It probably wasn't all that safe, but just having a natural source of water was probably an advantage most other students didn't have at the moment.
Good things apparently came in threes, because it was at this point that Jeremy finally decided that walking was for squares and stopped, placing his friend on the ground. And then came the question that she had been expecting. Namely what had happened to cause the whole goddamn situation in the first place. She kept her mouth shut, biting on her lower lip as she decided to let the others explain first. She didn't know if he'd believe a single thing she said...but if any of the others decided to color her in a more than unfavorable light, she wasn't going to be happy.
Aston began first and Michelle could only snort as she heard the other girl's explanation. 'A little stressed? I guess Danya is just a little evil and this is all some sort of little game that kids play when they're bored. You were freaking the fuck out as well, girl, and you were the one waving your fucking gun around the place.'
Michelle returned Aston's glare with full force, folding her arms as she narrowed her eyes. A brief flare of anger ran through her body as she heard Aston act all doctor-like, putting the somber soap opera lines to work as she offered to look at the unconscious kid. She grit her teeth, trying to calm herself down. 'Don't get pissed...don't last out. This is not the time. Save your anger. Savor it. Wait for an opportune time before unleashing it. There is a time and place for everything. She'll get hers, no doubt...'
The other girl suggested using willow bark as some sort of aspirin before immediately realizing just how dumb that sounded and crouching next to Marty. She also voiced concern over his status and Michelle bit her lower lip again. 'Come on. I don't think I hit him that hard...ugh...'
She hated getting painted as the villain...even though she was technically the villain. She still didn't regret hitting him. If it resulted in his death...then that was it. Marty simply had been unlucky enough to be caught in a situation caused by his own freaking out. And frankly, judging from his attitude, some other killer on the island, 'Maybe Maxwell or Sarah', would have made a show of him instead.
"Looks like it's my turn." Michelle said in a steady voice, turning her attention to Jeremy. "I came across your friend and her on the beach. I was curious to see what was going on, so I approached them. Your friend, to put it lightly, freaked out and started yelling and screaming at us. And Aston, as she so lightly puts it, 'got a little stressed', and started to wave her gun around and scream about how she would be alive because she had a gun. I was caught between two screaming little children and overreacted and hit your friend on the head with the crowbar."
"So that's it." She finished, her expression serious. "It was a mistake. I was angry and I wanted people to calm down, so I lashed out and hit the person closest to me. And that's when you came across us."
She looked away, a sigh escaping from her lips. "If it means anything, I hope your friend is okay and I wasn't trying to kill him."
(Rachel Gettys continued from Going Round in Circles)
Unlike many who traveled the island, Rachel's rest last evening had been somewhat peaceful, barring the occasional twinge of pain from her leg, for her safety had been assured. Just two days now, two days and two nights precisely, until she and her hundreds of disciples showed their backs to this wretched island. All that she needed now was the hundreds of disciples, and they would come, whether slowly or swiftly.
Well, and who might these people be?
Speaking of disciples, as she journeyed through the woods, she spotted a gathering of people afar off. She recognized quite a few of them, and she suspected they would do likewise the instant that she came into view. She wondered whether or not they had heard the announcements, but it was merely a fleeting curiosity, as it really did not matter whether or not they learned of her recent actions. She would merely let them know that the limey git had been interfering with the Lord's work, and that would be sufficient for any thinking man. If not...
Rachel's grip on the end of her improvised walking stick tightened as she drew herself into view. As she approached, she saw a man lying unconscious, and being attended to by others in the group. She heard brief snatches of conversation, though they were too faint to understand, but from what she understood, somebody had struck Marty Lovett unconscious in order to...she did not know. Perhaps she would learn by inquiring further.
"What happened here?" she asked, making a point to conceal her hobbling as much as she could. "Is this man dead?" No sense in letting them know that she had overheard anything. She would determine for herself who among this group was worthy of trust and who wasn't before she revealed her vision.
Unlike many who traveled the island, Rachel's rest last evening had been somewhat peaceful, barring the occasional twinge of pain from her leg, for her safety had been assured. Just two days now, two days and two nights precisely, until she and her hundreds of disciples showed their backs to this wretched island. All that she needed now was the hundreds of disciples, and they would come, whether slowly or swiftly.
Well, and who might these people be?
Speaking of disciples, as she journeyed through the woods, she spotted a gathering of people afar off. She recognized quite a few of them, and she suspected they would do likewise the instant that she came into view. She wondered whether or not they had heard the announcements, but it was merely a fleeting curiosity, as it really did not matter whether or not they learned of her recent actions. She would merely let them know that the limey git had been interfering with the Lord's work, and that would be sufficient for any thinking man. If not...
Rachel's grip on the end of her improvised walking stick tightened as she drew herself into view. As she approached, she saw a man lying unconscious, and being attended to by others in the group. She heard brief snatches of conversation, though they were too faint to understand, but from what she understood, somebody had struck Marty Lovett unconscious in order to...she did not know. Perhaps she would learn by inquiring further.
"What happened here?" she asked, making a point to conceal her hobbling as much as she could. "Is this man dead?" No sense in letting them know that she had overheard anything. She would determine for herself who among this group was worthy of trust and who wasn't before she revealed her vision.
((Ben Powell continued from So What Do We Do Now?))
I think you've lost her.
I have not.
Seriously, dangerzone. I'm surprised you're still following actual prints, much less a group of them. It's definatly a different group.
Shut the hell up and keep walking.
Cracking his neck, Ben Powell marched on. He'd been following Chase for a day now. The only reason he was still doing it was because... OK, so there wasn't a real reason anymore except for the promise he'd made. She'd probably had forgotten about it anyway or something. At least she wasn't on the death tally, as well as Jacob and the others. He had lost track of them too, come to think of it. Jacob running off was still stuck in his head, the shot to the girlfriends chest, the blood. All etched in. He wanted to forget it. Never think of it again. So why was it still there, lingering at the back of his mind?
Because we could be next.
With a sigh, Ben kicked a rock and swore softly. Couldn't think like that. That path only led to destruction. As long as he was still breathing, he was going to do something with this. Anything. Right? Yeah. Right. Noticing the ringing in his left ear, he cracked his jaw, trying to pop his ear. Got to remain sane. Got to-
Voices?
Oh shit, yes.
Spinning around, he started to walk off the path, into the wood area, hiking over fallen logs. Definatly people. Talking. And water, if he wasn't mistaken. Oh, ears, you wonderful things, lemmie give you a hug. Grinning, he stepped out into the open, onto the side of a small stream, and on the other side...
"Oh, mate, what a party."
Giving a grin, Ben saluted at the group, before giving a frown at their apparent lack of acknowledgement of him. It was almost as if they were transfixed on... the body on the floor... Shit. Running over the creek, he started to take off his backpack. "FIRST AID, DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?!"
You forgot the girl.
"Oh, and hey Anna."
I think you've lost her.
I have not.
Seriously, dangerzone. I'm surprised you're still following actual prints, much less a group of them. It's definatly a different group.
Shut the hell up and keep walking.
Cracking his neck, Ben Powell marched on. He'd been following Chase for a day now. The only reason he was still doing it was because... OK, so there wasn't a real reason anymore except for the promise he'd made. She'd probably had forgotten about it anyway or something. At least she wasn't on the death tally, as well as Jacob and the others. He had lost track of them too, come to think of it. Jacob running off was still stuck in his head, the shot to the girlfriends chest, the blood. All etched in. He wanted to forget it. Never think of it again. So why was it still there, lingering at the back of his mind?
Because we could be next.
With a sigh, Ben kicked a rock and swore softly. Couldn't think like that. That path only led to destruction. As long as he was still breathing, he was going to do something with this. Anything. Right? Yeah. Right. Noticing the ringing in his left ear, he cracked his jaw, trying to pop his ear. Got to remain sane. Got to-
Voices?
Oh shit, yes.
Spinning around, he started to walk off the path, into the wood area, hiking over fallen logs. Definatly people. Talking. And water, if he wasn't mistaken. Oh, ears, you wonderful things, lemmie give you a hug. Grinning, he stepped out into the open, onto the side of a small stream, and on the other side...
"Oh, mate, what a party."
Giving a grin, Ben saluted at the group, before giving a frown at their apparent lack of acknowledgement of him. It was almost as if they were transfixed on... the body on the floor... Shit. Running over the creek, he started to take off his backpack. "FIRST AID, DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?!"
You forgot the girl.
"Oh, and hey Anna."
The would-be rocker listened with great interest as Aston began to explain what had led them to hit Marty over the head like that.
As it turned out, Joshua's guess about what had happened was more-or-less right on the money. Marty got scared, everyone began to panic, and before any of them knew it BAM! Somebody decided to take things into their own hands and shut the poor guy up. He began to feel somewhat embarrassed as he recalled how he had reacted to the situation by running in and waving a gun (Well, a small crossbow pistol thingy anyway) around like some lunatic. He was actually kind of surprised things hadn't gotten worse after his little overreaction.
"Yeah, I can see that happening actually... Marty always was a bit jumpy whenever he's worried about something. He's a good guy most of the time, y'know? Its just he tends to get a little... I dunno, paranoid whenever things get rough..."
She then began to go on about the possible aftereffects of the injury inflicted against his friend. Which, from the sound of things, weren't so good... Joshua wasn't exactly sure what the exactly happened when somebody had a concussion. They get a bit dizzy, maybe suffer from amnesia... Something like that? She then also noted the possibility of brain damage, which caused Joshua to gulp in fear. He remembered hearing about this kid in one of the earlier games who got hit over the head with a stick or something and ended up becoming a massive serial killer. Went on to kill several people before finally getting taken down by the top player. The idea of that kind of thing happening to Marty worried Joshua more then a little... Then again, the idea of Marty not waking up at all was something Joshua didn't even want to think about.
He paused for a moment to take all the information in before Aston began speaking again. "Do you mind...if I have a look at him? Just to check the extent of the bruising and damage and stuff?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, sure. Go right ahead..." he said, shifting out of the way to give Aston some room to do whatever she needed to do. Joshua couldn't really tell himself how bad the injury was. He didn't think Marty looked THAT bad, but then again he wasn't exactly the best person to ask for medical advice. Hell, he was probably the worst person on the entire island to ask for advice about pretty much anything medical related other then putting a plaster on someone.
The short goth girl (Anna something?) began to suggest the idea of using willow bark to help out Marty, only to then immediately dismiss the idea as being silly. Which was a shame, because Joshua was actually beginning to like the idea of using the tree to their advantage. It would have been worth a shot anyway...
"Do you think he's... he's alright?"
Joshua shrugged. "I... I dunno man. I ain't a doctor or anything. I HOPE he's alright and stuff, but like you said. He might be suffering from brain damage or somethin' from all I know..." he replied, turning and referring to Aston. In all honesty, the idea of Marty being permanently changed chilled Joshua right to the bone. He couldn't imagine what life would be like if his best friend in the world became some kind of deranged maniac just because some bitch decided to whack him over the head with a frickin' crowbar.
Speaking of bitches, Michelle began to explain what had happened from her perspective. He didn't really hear anything he hadn't already picked up from Aston, but from the sound of things Michelle seemed at the very least to regret having done what she did. At least, Joshua ASSUMED she regretted doing it. She never outwardly admitted it...
"Nah, its cool... Can't say I really blame you" he joked, trying to inject some humour into the sombre situation. "Its this island man. This fuckin' island... It messes with your head, y'know? Makes people do things. TERRIBLE things. Like, killing people and torturing 'em and stuff... Jesus, who'd of thought anyone back at Bayview would have the balls to DO such a thing? Hell if I know... Hell if I know...
"What happened here?"
The hell?!?
"Is this man dead?"
The would-be rocker turned his attention to the newly arrived figure. Namely the (in)famous Rachel Gettys. Joshua remembered her back at Bayview... Always going around preaching Christianity like it was going out of style or something. Being something of a mix between being agnostic and Jewish, Joshua himself never really understood what the whole fuss was about. So what if not everyone believed in the same religion, or any religion whatsoever. Its not they're harming anyone... Besides, if god DID exists, Joshua was sure that he wouldn't be that picky when it came to deciding who goes to heaven or whatever.
This of course, was all irrelevant at that point in time. And whilst Joshua was surprised at Rachel's appearance, he couldn't help but have a feeling that something wasn't quite right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something at the back of his head told him that he'd heard Rachel's name being mentioned at some point in the past... Maybe one of the girls mentioned it in a conversation or something?
"Hey Rachel. Uh, no, he's just kinda unconscious at the moment..." He replied, not particularly sure how to react to her sudden arrival. And before Joshua even knew it, ANOTHER person popped out of the bloom and started offering assistance. In a cool Australian accent as well.
Wow... What the heck are the chances that TWO people came across her hiding place at the same time? Seriously though, its actually kinda creepin' me out...
Not knowing how to react to the new arrivals, all Joshua would muster up was an awkward "Uh..." in reply to the Aussie running across the steam in his direction.
As it turned out, Joshua's guess about what had happened was more-or-less right on the money. Marty got scared, everyone began to panic, and before any of them knew it BAM! Somebody decided to take things into their own hands and shut the poor guy up. He began to feel somewhat embarrassed as he recalled how he had reacted to the situation by running in and waving a gun (Well, a small crossbow pistol thingy anyway) around like some lunatic. He was actually kind of surprised things hadn't gotten worse after his little overreaction.
"Yeah, I can see that happening actually... Marty always was a bit jumpy whenever he's worried about something. He's a good guy most of the time, y'know? Its just he tends to get a little... I dunno, paranoid whenever things get rough..."
She then began to go on about the possible aftereffects of the injury inflicted against his friend. Which, from the sound of things, weren't so good... Joshua wasn't exactly sure what the exactly happened when somebody had a concussion. They get a bit dizzy, maybe suffer from amnesia... Something like that? She then also noted the possibility of brain damage, which caused Joshua to gulp in fear. He remembered hearing about this kid in one of the earlier games who got hit over the head with a stick or something and ended up becoming a massive serial killer. Went on to kill several people before finally getting taken down by the top player. The idea of that kind of thing happening to Marty worried Joshua more then a little... Then again, the idea of Marty not waking up at all was something Joshua didn't even want to think about.
He paused for a moment to take all the information in before Aston began speaking again. "Do you mind...if I have a look at him? Just to check the extent of the bruising and damage and stuff?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, sure. Go right ahead..." he said, shifting out of the way to give Aston some room to do whatever she needed to do. Joshua couldn't really tell himself how bad the injury was. He didn't think Marty looked THAT bad, but then again he wasn't exactly the best person to ask for medical advice. Hell, he was probably the worst person on the entire island to ask for advice about pretty much anything medical related other then putting a plaster on someone.
The short goth girl (Anna something?) began to suggest the idea of using willow bark to help out Marty, only to then immediately dismiss the idea as being silly. Which was a shame, because Joshua was actually beginning to like the idea of using the tree to their advantage. It would have been worth a shot anyway...
"Do you think he's... he's alright?"
Joshua shrugged. "I... I dunno man. I ain't a doctor or anything. I HOPE he's alright and stuff, but like you said. He might be suffering from brain damage or somethin' from all I know..." he replied, turning and referring to Aston. In all honesty, the idea of Marty being permanently changed chilled Joshua right to the bone. He couldn't imagine what life would be like if his best friend in the world became some kind of deranged maniac just because some bitch decided to whack him over the head with a frickin' crowbar.
Speaking of bitches, Michelle began to explain what had happened from her perspective. He didn't really hear anything he hadn't already picked up from Aston, but from the sound of things Michelle seemed at the very least to regret having done what she did. At least, Joshua ASSUMED she regretted doing it. She never outwardly admitted it...
"Nah, its cool... Can't say I really blame you" he joked, trying to inject some humour into the sombre situation. "Its this island man. This fuckin' island... It messes with your head, y'know? Makes people do things. TERRIBLE things. Like, killing people and torturing 'em and stuff... Jesus, who'd of thought anyone back at Bayview would have the balls to DO such a thing? Hell if I know... Hell if I know...
"What happened here?"
The hell?!?
"Is this man dead?"
The would-be rocker turned his attention to the newly arrived figure. Namely the (in)famous Rachel Gettys. Joshua remembered her back at Bayview... Always going around preaching Christianity like it was going out of style or something. Being something of a mix between being agnostic and Jewish, Joshua himself never really understood what the whole fuss was about. So what if not everyone believed in the same religion, or any religion whatsoever. Its not they're harming anyone... Besides, if god DID exists, Joshua was sure that he wouldn't be that picky when it came to deciding who goes to heaven or whatever.
This of course, was all irrelevant at that point in time. And whilst Joshua was surprised at Rachel's appearance, he couldn't help but have a feeling that something wasn't quite right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something at the back of his head told him that he'd heard Rachel's name being mentioned at some point in the past... Maybe one of the girls mentioned it in a conversation or something?
"Hey Rachel. Uh, no, he's just kinda unconscious at the moment..." He replied, not particularly sure how to react to her sudden arrival. And before Joshua even knew it, ANOTHER person popped out of the bloom and started offering assistance. In a cool Australian accent as well.
Wow... What the heck are the chances that TWO people came across her hiding place at the same time? Seriously though, its actually kinda creepin' me out...
Not knowing how to react to the new arrivals, all Joshua would muster up was an awkward "Uh..." in reply to the Aussie running across the steam in his direction.
-
chitoryu12*
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:07 am
And then, he saw it.
The cinderblock.
In his haste to hide from the various kids from his high school who may or may not be inclined to kill him, Jake had made the leap into the bush with his daypack, but sans weapon. His assigned chunk of stone was currently smugly sitting by the babbling brook, staring at him.
Unfortunately, despite all the problems the cinderblock had caused him, Jake had to get it. It was the only weapon he had aside from his combat boots, and he didn't feel like tugging them off every time he got into combat. Without that little block of masonry, he was defenseless.
And so, in one of the more risky decisions he made that day, he flattened himself to the grass and began shuffling on his belly, aiming to get to his weapon as quietly and quickly as possible before the party by the tree saw him.
The cinderblock.
In his haste to hide from the various kids from his high school who may or may not be inclined to kill him, Jake had made the leap into the bush with his daypack, but sans weapon. His assigned chunk of stone was currently smugly sitting by the babbling brook, staring at him.
Unfortunately, despite all the problems the cinderblock had caused him, Jake had to get it. It was the only weapon he had aside from his combat boots, and he didn't feel like tugging them off every time he got into combat. Without that little block of masonry, he was defenseless.
And so, in one of the more risky decisions he made that day, he flattened himself to the grass and began shuffling on his belly, aiming to get to his weapon as quietly and quickly as possible before the party by the tree saw him.
And so the little tall tales started to build up around her.
That little action back at the beach, the one she only did because she was stressed, mind you, was now become the most damning piece of evidence against her. The only two other people there, the only ones that should have understood what she was going through back there, were obviously not that appreciative of the fact that she happened to think she was better than them. Of course, she closed her eyes once the bitch who tried to kill the guy stopped rambling on. No need to actually take that stuff in. She instead walked past the boy with the...rather handsome face, come to think of it...and examined the boy lain down at the trunk of the large willow tree.
First, the vitals. The boy's head was tilted forward, away from the tree. Sighing at how much the other guy didn't know, she tilted his head back so that his airway wasn't closed off. She saw it in a movie once. A girl knocked out in a car crash wasn't breathing, and the only problem was that her head was hung forward, and all it took was one person with common sense enough to know that it was blocking off her air supply.
Honestly, civilization crumbled when she wasn't around.
Moving back his sleeves, she checked his pulse. It was pretty light, but still maintained its steady beat. Tha-bump, Tha-bump, Tha-bump. That was even better. Next, she checked the brusing on the back of the boy's head.
Now here was where she was confused. She didn't share show it, but she hadn't the slightest idea what she was doing here. She couldn't tell if he was only going to get a bruise, if his skull was cracked, if he'd suffered a concussion, if he was braindead...he couldn't die like this, could he? The last thing he would have seen was her, being a psycopath. That wouldn't bode well for her conscience.
She felt his head, feeling her fingers through the small amount of hair on his skull, and found the growing lump. It wasn't wet, good, and it wasn't throbbing, probably better. It wasn't bleeding at all, which she made sure of...now she didn't know what to do, despite the fact she had a focused look on her face and gave off an aura of knowledge.
Suddenly, without any warning, more people started to show up on the scene. There was an Australian boy, who seemed to know Chase, and promptly rode into the scene on a firey horse and upstaged her by having the littlest bit of first aid knowledge.
"Oh, uh, hey there. Guy got hit over the head by a crowbar, he's been out cold for a while," Aston started, before realising there was someone else on the scene as well. Moving away from the boy now, she headed closer to her bags to get a bit of bread. She'd been a bit hungry on the long hike, and now was time to chow down. Looking up as she approached her bags, she saw that religious girl from GODSpeed at Bayview, Rachel Gett-
!!!
"Moving right along, we had Theo Behr take a dirt nap, with Rachel Gettys being the one to put him to bed. God probably told her to do it or something."
Tenth to buy the farm was Edward Belmont, who invoked the wrath of god in the form of Rachel Gettys and took a rock to the head for his trouble."
Oh. Shit.
In the moments that followed in which Aston recognized the crazed woman standing in front of her, she didn't give off a signal that she was troubled by this appearance. Acting lessons, she had none, but it was more like containing a silent impulse. Part of her wanted to turn vigilante, take her out now, save them all from the trouble. Meanwhile, the other part was telling her to keep calm, pick up her bags, turn around, drop them closer to the body, and walk right over the the guy and cross her arms.
Which is what she did.
"Uh, yeah, no one's dead here Rachel," Aston said, before slightly closing her mouth, moving her tongue, and speaking out of the corner of her mouth.
"That's Rachel Gettys. She's killed. Twice. We're all in fucking danger here. Get everyone to move away quickly, and I'll stay and hold her off. If you wanna stay here, you can, you have a gun of some sort and you look like you stand a hell of a better chance than the other two girls and your unconsious friend there."
Stopping momentarily, she commented again.
"Whatever they say, I'm not crazy by the way."
That little action back at the beach, the one she only did because she was stressed, mind you, was now become the most damning piece of evidence against her. The only two other people there, the only ones that should have understood what she was going through back there, were obviously not that appreciative of the fact that she happened to think she was better than them. Of course, she closed her eyes once the bitch who tried to kill the guy stopped rambling on. No need to actually take that stuff in. She instead walked past the boy with the...rather handsome face, come to think of it...and examined the boy lain down at the trunk of the large willow tree.
First, the vitals. The boy's head was tilted forward, away from the tree. Sighing at how much the other guy didn't know, she tilted his head back so that his airway wasn't closed off. She saw it in a movie once. A girl knocked out in a car crash wasn't breathing, and the only problem was that her head was hung forward, and all it took was one person with common sense enough to know that it was blocking off her air supply.
Honestly, civilization crumbled when she wasn't around.
Moving back his sleeves, she checked his pulse. It was pretty light, but still maintained its steady beat. Tha-bump, Tha-bump, Tha-bump. That was even better. Next, she checked the brusing on the back of the boy's head.
Now here was where she was confused. She didn't share show it, but she hadn't the slightest idea what she was doing here. She couldn't tell if he was only going to get a bruise, if his skull was cracked, if he'd suffered a concussion, if he was braindead...he couldn't die like this, could he? The last thing he would have seen was her, being a psycopath. That wouldn't bode well for her conscience.
She felt his head, feeling her fingers through the small amount of hair on his skull, and found the growing lump. It wasn't wet, good, and it wasn't throbbing, probably better. It wasn't bleeding at all, which she made sure of...now she didn't know what to do, despite the fact she had a focused look on her face and gave off an aura of knowledge.
Suddenly, without any warning, more people started to show up on the scene. There was an Australian boy, who seemed to know Chase, and promptly rode into the scene on a firey horse and upstaged her by having the littlest bit of first aid knowledge.
"Oh, uh, hey there. Guy got hit over the head by a crowbar, he's been out cold for a while," Aston started, before realising there was someone else on the scene as well. Moving away from the boy now, she headed closer to her bags to get a bit of bread. She'd been a bit hungry on the long hike, and now was time to chow down. Looking up as she approached her bags, she saw that religious girl from GODSpeed at Bayview, Rachel Gett-
!!!
"Moving right along, we had Theo Behr take a dirt nap, with Rachel Gettys being the one to put him to bed. God probably told her to do it or something."
Tenth to buy the farm was Edward Belmont, who invoked the wrath of god in the form of Rachel Gettys and took a rock to the head for his trouble."
Oh. Shit.
In the moments that followed in which Aston recognized the crazed woman standing in front of her, she didn't give off a signal that she was troubled by this appearance. Acting lessons, she had none, but it was more like containing a silent impulse. Part of her wanted to turn vigilante, take her out now, save them all from the trouble. Meanwhile, the other part was telling her to keep calm, pick up her bags, turn around, drop them closer to the body, and walk right over the the guy and cross her arms.
Which is what she did.
"Uh, yeah, no one's dead here Rachel," Aston said, before slightly closing her mouth, moving her tongue, and speaking out of the corner of her mouth.
"That's Rachel Gettys. She's killed. Twice. We're all in fucking danger here. Get everyone to move away quickly, and I'll stay and hold her off. If you wanna stay here, you can, you have a gun of some sort and you look like you stand a hell of a better chance than the other two girls and your unconsious friend there."
Stopping momentarily, she commented again.
"Whatever they say, I'm not crazy by the way."
The girl with dyed hair began telling her side of the story, pointing out that the other girl had been waving her gun around saying that she was going to live because she had a weapon. It was starting again, they were going to go into the "You suck, no you suck" mentality once more.
Sighing, Chase placed her head against the willow tree again. Retro-Guy seemed unsure, not knowing the answer to whether or not Marty was going to be okay. Just before she placed her head against the bark she could see Spiky-Head looking over him, moving his head around for a better look. Retro-Guy was rambling on about torture and killing and how people wouldn't do that back at Bayview.
A voice.
Chase lifted her head off the bark once more. Australian accent? That could be either Brendan... oh god, was he here? No, it didn't sound like him that much. She couldn't help but feel a small pang of disappointment once she quickly realized it. But, after looking at the source of the noise, she saw that it was that guy she met the other day. Ben, that was his name, right? He made it out okay. That was a relief. Though she was going to have to be just as careful with him like she was with the others now. She never actually saw him hurt anyone, but let's face it, a guy pointing a paintball gun at you isn't exactly a good way to meet someone.
But, she smiled at him. Just to be friendly. And the fact that he was still alive was, to be fair, actually kind of a relief.
However, those few seconds of relief quickly came to an end.
A new voice.
Oh no. She recognized that voice.
Chase turned her head and saw that her fears had been confirmed.
Rachel Gettys.
Now, Chase never knew her that well, but she knew one thing; she wasn't at all a nice person. She wasn't simply just cruel, either; she used God as an excuse to be cruel. Her so-called religion and the fact that she was wealthy made her see everyone else as lowly, apparently.
She was pretty sure that she had killed too, didn't she? Her name had been on the announcements, that she could vaguely remember. Obviously, if she wasn't dead and talking to them, that meant one other possibility, and it wasn't good.
Oh, and for bonus points? Chase was pretty much everything that her so-called "God" would have nightmares over.
She clenched one hand as her heart started to race again.
And it wasn't as if Rachel was alone, either. She could see some guy... crawling on the ground like an army commando for some reason? At first she thought he was with Rachel, but he honestly didn't look like the type to hang around her. Wait a second... wasn't it that Jake Crimson guy? That sounded like a silly name, but what the hell was he doing? He definitely wasn't with Rachel, though.
Chase opened and closed her mouth, trying to figure out what to say. Oh god, what were Rachel and Jake doing here? Were they attracted by the noise?
Retro-Guy and Spiky-Head seemed to attempt to handle it, though, mostly by saying he was just hurt. Then again, Rachel might react by putting a bullet in his head like in those old war movies. Chase furrowed her brow, trying to figure out what to do.
Spiky-Head started to whisper to them. Saying that Rachel was most definitely psycho. Saying that she wasn't crazy. Saying that she and the other girl didn't seem like someone who could defend themselves.
So that was it.
She was pathetic.
She didn't have any weapons, or any survival skills, or charisma, or intelligence. She was just... a crybaby. That's it. All she did while she was on the island was cry. Crying made her look weak, and she didn't like it. When Nancy showed up? All she did was cry and struggle as she was being dragged away. And when Rasputin showed up? Crying and hiding, both times. She only sat there when they were having that argument on the beach, too. She wasn't a hero. She couldn't defend herself. She was quite literally worthless. She couldn't even do something about Rachel.
Could she?
What could she do, though?
What answers were there?
It wasn't as if she had any ways to help...
But she had to do something. She wasn't going to be weak once more. Now was her chance, if ever, to actually be strong. She could do something if she really could, wasn't she? She wasn't that useless, right?
That's when it hit her. She could easily find a reason for them to leave the area without Rachel and Jake suspecting anything. Just have them come up with a reason to leave quietly, and move on to someplace safer. No fighting was necessary now. Sure, it was still running away, but it was something at the very least.
And finally, Chase found out what she wanted to say.
"Hey guys..." she spoke, her voice coming out hesitantly. "Maybe we could like... put water over his head or something? There's a str-stream nearby, so perhaps... maybe we could go further upstream and... I dunno, put water on him? Perhaps that would wake him up."
She turned to walk in the other direction, but looked over her shoulder. "It's worth a shot?"
God, she hoped they got the cue to leave. That girl made it pretty clear, after all, that it wasn't a good idea to stay around Rachel. She just gave them an excuse to leave without raising any eyebrows.
But what if Rachel followed them?
What to do then?
Well, deal with leaving first.
Sighing, Chase placed her head against the willow tree again. Retro-Guy seemed unsure, not knowing the answer to whether or not Marty was going to be okay. Just before she placed her head against the bark she could see Spiky-Head looking over him, moving his head around for a better look. Retro-Guy was rambling on about torture and killing and how people wouldn't do that back at Bayview.
A voice.
Chase lifted her head off the bark once more. Australian accent? That could be either Brendan... oh god, was he here? No, it didn't sound like him that much. She couldn't help but feel a small pang of disappointment once she quickly realized it. But, after looking at the source of the noise, she saw that it was that guy she met the other day. Ben, that was his name, right? He made it out okay. That was a relief. Though she was going to have to be just as careful with him like she was with the others now. She never actually saw him hurt anyone, but let's face it, a guy pointing a paintball gun at you isn't exactly a good way to meet someone.
But, she smiled at him. Just to be friendly. And the fact that he was still alive was, to be fair, actually kind of a relief.
However, those few seconds of relief quickly came to an end.
A new voice.
Oh no. She recognized that voice.
Chase turned her head and saw that her fears had been confirmed.
Rachel Gettys.
Now, Chase never knew her that well, but she knew one thing; she wasn't at all a nice person. She wasn't simply just cruel, either; she used God as an excuse to be cruel. Her so-called religion and the fact that she was wealthy made her see everyone else as lowly, apparently.
She was pretty sure that she had killed too, didn't she? Her name had been on the announcements, that she could vaguely remember. Obviously, if she wasn't dead and talking to them, that meant one other possibility, and it wasn't good.
Oh, and for bonus points? Chase was pretty much everything that her so-called "God" would have nightmares over.
She clenched one hand as her heart started to race again.
And it wasn't as if Rachel was alone, either. She could see some guy... crawling on the ground like an army commando for some reason? At first she thought he was with Rachel, but he honestly didn't look like the type to hang around her. Wait a second... wasn't it that Jake Crimson guy? That sounded like a silly name, but what the hell was he doing? He definitely wasn't with Rachel, though.
Chase opened and closed her mouth, trying to figure out what to say. Oh god, what were Rachel and Jake doing here? Were they attracted by the noise?
Retro-Guy and Spiky-Head seemed to attempt to handle it, though, mostly by saying he was just hurt. Then again, Rachel might react by putting a bullet in his head like in those old war movies. Chase furrowed her brow, trying to figure out what to do.
Spiky-Head started to whisper to them. Saying that Rachel was most definitely psycho. Saying that she wasn't crazy. Saying that she and the other girl didn't seem like someone who could defend themselves.
So that was it.
She was pathetic.
She didn't have any weapons, or any survival skills, or charisma, or intelligence. She was just... a crybaby. That's it. All she did while she was on the island was cry. Crying made her look weak, and she didn't like it. When Nancy showed up? All she did was cry and struggle as she was being dragged away. And when Rasputin showed up? Crying and hiding, both times. She only sat there when they were having that argument on the beach, too. She wasn't a hero. She couldn't defend herself. She was quite literally worthless. She couldn't even do something about Rachel.
Could she?
What could she do, though?
What answers were there?
It wasn't as if she had any ways to help...
But she had to do something. She wasn't going to be weak once more. Now was her chance, if ever, to actually be strong. She could do something if she really could, wasn't she? She wasn't that useless, right?
That's when it hit her. She could easily find a reason for them to leave the area without Rachel and Jake suspecting anything. Just have them come up with a reason to leave quietly, and move on to someplace safer. No fighting was necessary now. Sure, it was still running away, but it was something at the very least.
And finally, Chase found out what she wanted to say.
"Hey guys..." she spoke, her voice coming out hesitantly. "Maybe we could like... put water over his head or something? There's a str-stream nearby, so perhaps... maybe we could go further upstream and... I dunno, put water on him? Perhaps that would wake him up."
She turned to walk in the other direction, but looked over her shoulder. "It's worth a shot?"
God, she hoped they got the cue to leave. That girl made it pretty clear, after all, that it wasn't a good idea to stay around Rachel. She just gave them an excuse to leave without raising any eyebrows.
But what if Rachel followed them?
What to do then?
Well, deal with leaving first.
'What is this, some sort of convention? What's next? Is Danya himfuckingself going to show up to ask about the unconscious kid?' Michelle thought bitterly to herself as two others showed up. One was some guy yelling about first aid who seemed to know the scared chick, which was perfectly fine and just another cherry to top of the bitch of a time she'd been having so far. The other, though...the other was definitely someone to watch. She definitely recognized the other girl...Rachel Gettys, the preacher around school who managed to be way more annoying in one minute than Michelle would have thought possible. Michelle herself was Christian, but the way Rachel carried on bothered her.
But that wasn't the bad part. The bad part was that Rachel was a known killer on the island. 'Thank...heh, god, that I was paying attention during the announcements. Shit...and here I am without a weapon. Goddammit, if only I had my crowbar still with me...' She ground her teeth together, quickly taking a glance at the others to see if they had made the connection. Joshua didn't seem to connect anything but...'Heh.
The right side of her lips curved into a thin smile as she saw Aston react and move closer to Joshua. It was better than nothing, she supposed...and Aston did have a gun, so if Rachel decided to add to her kill count, she wouldn't be alive for much longer. And it seemed like Anna recognized Rachel as well...at least in terms of "What an asshole". 'There's no way this is going to turn out like at the beach, is it? Naaah...couldn't be.'
Michelle kept her place, though, once again wishing she hadn't lost her weapon as she kept her gaze fixated on Rachel. One wrong move...one wrong move and...well, Michelle wasn't sure what she would do next, but death was not in the picture. "No...like Aston said, he's just unconscious. No one's dead. We're trying to keep it that way..."
"Anyway uh...Anna's got a good idea. I'll help take the bo-Marty, because it was my fault he got in this mess..." She trailed off as she walked next to Marty, passing by Aston as she did so. Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "Gimme my crowbar. Just in case. You know as well as I do that Rachel is crazy...it's best to have a backup plan. Just in case."
But that wasn't the bad part. The bad part was that Rachel was a known killer on the island. 'Thank...heh, god, that I was paying attention during the announcements. Shit...and here I am without a weapon. Goddammit, if only I had my crowbar still with me...' She ground her teeth together, quickly taking a glance at the others to see if they had made the connection. Joshua didn't seem to connect anything but...'Heh.
The right side of her lips curved into a thin smile as she saw Aston react and move closer to Joshua. It was better than nothing, she supposed...and Aston did have a gun, so if Rachel decided to add to her kill count, she wouldn't be alive for much longer. And it seemed like Anna recognized Rachel as well...at least in terms of "What an asshole". 'There's no way this is going to turn out like at the beach, is it? Naaah...couldn't be.'
Michelle kept her place, though, once again wishing she hadn't lost her weapon as she kept her gaze fixated on Rachel. One wrong move...one wrong move and...well, Michelle wasn't sure what she would do next, but death was not in the picture. "No...like Aston said, he's just unconscious. No one's dead. We're trying to keep it that way..."
"Anyway uh...Anna's got a good idea. I'll help take the bo-Marty, because it was my fault he got in this mess..." She trailed off as she walked next to Marty, passing by Aston as she did so. Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "Gimme my crowbar. Just in case. You know as well as I do that Rachel is crazy...it's best to have a backup plan. Just in case."
All the murmuring and double talk that came from this group did not surprise Rachel. They were hypocrites, all of them, pretending to be friendly while simultaneously plotting mischief amongst themselves. They would find a special place in purgatory when their time came, but for now, they deserved the truth. What they did with it was their own business, but it was Rachel's solemn duty to proclaim the good news wherever it was needed. And these people needed it. That was certain.
"You people and your mutterings," she said, shaking her head in silent amusement. "I come not to kill, but to save, so you can relax." Her smile widened a little. "Though I must say, chastising someone for defending oneself is very low of you all. Would you rather that I had stood there and let those two men kill me? You would have probably called them murderers as well, and shunned them like the little hypocrites that you are."
Hobbling a little to the side to allow herself some distance from the man with the pistol crossbow, she continued, "But I am not here today to lecture you on morality. Instead, I would ask you to join me, as I am preparing to leave this island, and it would trouble me greatly were even one of you to remain behind when I am taken up to Heaven." She corrected herself a little when it came to people like Marty Lovett, but didn't voice her reason for excluding him out loud. "I regret to say that when I first told this to Mr. Belmont, he tried to kill me, and told me that my faith was false. But I assure you, this is very real. You must follow me, if you want to live."
Bigoted response inbound in 3...2...
"You people and your mutterings," she said, shaking her head in silent amusement. "I come not to kill, but to save, so you can relax." Her smile widened a little. "Though I must say, chastising someone for defending oneself is very low of you all. Would you rather that I had stood there and let those two men kill me? You would have probably called them murderers as well, and shunned them like the little hypocrites that you are."
Hobbling a little to the side to allow herself some distance from the man with the pistol crossbow, she continued, "But I am not here today to lecture you on morality. Instead, I would ask you to join me, as I am preparing to leave this island, and it would trouble me greatly were even one of you to remain behind when I am taken up to Heaven." She corrected herself a little when it came to people like Marty Lovett, but didn't voice her reason for excluding him out loud. "I regret to say that when I first told this to Mr. Belmont, he tried to kill me, and told me that my faith was false. But I assure you, this is very real. You must follow me, if you want to live."
Bigoted response inbound in 3...2...
"Crowbar. To the head." Giving a very loud swear, he got out the first aid kit and had a look at the guy. No visible cuts, only a bit of swelling. Maybe something inside broken, but you don't touch that, you call 911 and get him upright with air.
The problem was that 911 wouldn't work here.
"Maybe we could like... put water over his head or something?" asked Chase. Not a bad idea. Would slow the bruising and swelling or something like that. Powell nodded quickly. "Good. That would work well."
At the mention of defending from Rachel, he gave a sudden jolt. "Oh jeez, where's Alex. I told him he could tag along if he could drop the chainsaw..." Twirling around, he swore. "Damni-"
Leave the island?
"Wait, woah. Leave the island? How? Collars are tamper-proof, remember?" Glancing at the man on the ground, he quickly thought. "Look, you have a plan? I don't care what you've done, I'll follow if you know what you're doing."
The problem was that 911 wouldn't work here.
"Maybe we could like... put water over his head or something?" asked Chase. Not a bad idea. Would slow the bruising and swelling or something like that. Powell nodded quickly. "Good. That would work well."
At the mention of defending from Rachel, he gave a sudden jolt. "Oh jeez, where's Alex. I told him he could tag along if he could drop the chainsaw..." Twirling around, he swore. "Damni-"
Leave the island?
"Wait, woah. Leave the island? How? Collars are tamper-proof, remember?" Glancing at the man on the ground, he quickly thought. "Look, you have a plan? I don't care what you've done, I'll follow if you know what you're doing."
"That's Rachel Gettys. She's killed. Twice. We're all in fucking danger here. Get everyone to move away quickly, and I'll stay and hold her off. If you wanna stay here, you can, you have a gun of some sort and you look like you stand a hell of a better chance than the other two girls and your unconsious friend there."
Joshua almost froze on the spot. It wasn't until that point that he remembered where he had heard Rachel's name being mentioned... Namely twice during the announcements as the killer of Theo Behr and Edward Belmont.
Oh jeez... Okay, stay calm Josh. She doesn't seem to be tryin' to kill anyone JUST yet. Probably best to keep it that way...
The others began to whisper to one another, Anna suggesting to take Marty upstream whilst Michelle asked Aston if she could have her crowbar back. Whilst Joshua nodded his approval for Anna's suggestion, he couldn't help but notice that Rachel was observing them the whole time...
"Psst, guys. I think she's watching us..."
"You people and your mutterings, I come not to kill, but to save, so you can relax."
The living anachronism almost jumped in fear after hearing that, half-expecting her to strike at any second. Which she didn't of course. If anything, she seemed to be a lot saner then he first realised. If anything, Joshua was beginning to suspect that he might of been wrong about her after all.
Sure, she's a little bitchy now and again, but that doesn't mean she's an instant psycho or anything!
Then she began a speech about they were going to get off the island via Heaven... Or, something along those lines.
...Nope, I was right the first time. She's nuttier then a fruitcake. Figures...
He gave Ben a funny look when he began to speak to Rachel as if he didn't already take the hint that she had a screw loose. Maybe he was pretending to believe what she was saying in order to get on her good side? That made a lot of sense actually... Humouring her and playing along so that she doesn't try to get all divine retribution on their asses.
Then again, maybe Ben Powell was just being an idiot. Either way made sense.
"Uh, yeah! That sounds great Sarah, I mean, Rachel! But um... Me an' the girls already kinda have a plan of escape ourselves. Thanks for the offer though! I mean, REALLY thanks!" the wannabe rocker said, putting on the cheesiest smile he could handle given the situation. It wasn't often that he came face to face with a complete psychopath who'd committed blatant murder on more then one occasion. Sure, he saw R.J shoot a girl in the chest, but that was different. R.J was acting out of self defence, which Joshua saw personally... Rachel, on the other hand, only claimed that she had done her kills out of self-defence. And considering that she 'defended' herself twice in a row, Joshua was more then a little sceptical.
Oh, don't forget to wink!
Sure enough, he turned his head to Aston and the others and gave a 'subtle' wink.
Jesus, where's the goddamn Batman when you really need him!
Joshua almost froze on the spot. It wasn't until that point that he remembered where he had heard Rachel's name being mentioned... Namely twice during the announcements as the killer of Theo Behr and Edward Belmont.
Oh jeez... Okay, stay calm Josh. She doesn't seem to be tryin' to kill anyone JUST yet. Probably best to keep it that way...
The others began to whisper to one another, Anna suggesting to take Marty upstream whilst Michelle asked Aston if she could have her crowbar back. Whilst Joshua nodded his approval for Anna's suggestion, he couldn't help but notice that Rachel was observing them the whole time...
"Psst, guys. I think she's watching us..."
"You people and your mutterings, I come not to kill, but to save, so you can relax."
The living anachronism almost jumped in fear after hearing that, half-expecting her to strike at any second. Which she didn't of course. If anything, she seemed to be a lot saner then he first realised. If anything, Joshua was beginning to suspect that he might of been wrong about her after all.
Sure, she's a little bitchy now and again, but that doesn't mean she's an instant psycho or anything!
Then she began a speech about they were going to get off the island via Heaven... Or, something along those lines.
...Nope, I was right the first time. She's nuttier then a fruitcake. Figures...
He gave Ben a funny look when he began to speak to Rachel as if he didn't already take the hint that she had a screw loose. Maybe he was pretending to believe what she was saying in order to get on her good side? That made a lot of sense actually... Humouring her and playing along so that she doesn't try to get all divine retribution on their asses.
Then again, maybe Ben Powell was just being an idiot. Either way made sense.
"Uh, yeah! That sounds great Sarah, I mean, Rachel! But um... Me an' the girls already kinda have a plan of escape ourselves. Thanks for the offer though! I mean, REALLY thanks!" the wannabe rocker said, putting on the cheesiest smile he could handle given the situation. It wasn't often that he came face to face with a complete psychopath who'd committed blatant murder on more then one occasion. Sure, he saw R.J shoot a girl in the chest, but that was different. R.J was acting out of self defence, which Joshua saw personally... Rachel, on the other hand, only claimed that she had done her kills out of self-defence. And considering that she 'defended' herself twice in a row, Joshua was more then a little sceptical.
Oh, don't forget to wink!
Sure enough, he turned his head to Aston and the others and gave a 'subtle' wink.
Jesus, where's the goddamn Batman when you really need him!