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(YLW5 Jake Langston START!)

The first thing Jake heard was waves. He could smell salt. The sun was warm, and he could feel the gentle yield of sand underneath his long, lanky frame.

It was damn near peaceful.

He didn't want to open his eyes, not remotely at all. He wanted to lie in the sun forever listening to what sounded like the ocean, and sleep. Sleep through this entire damn nightmare that his life had suddenly become. He cracked open one eye. Oh. A lake.

He sat up. His movements felt jerky as though he was increasingly aware of himself. Were his hands shaking? He didn't know. He could feel a strange band of metal around his neck. He knew what it was. He didn't want to think about what it was.

A canvas bag sat in front of him. Oh. Right. That.

He spent a moment looking around. This place was too damn beautiful to be a part of anything so...absolutely horrible and yet. Well. Here he was. His mouth was dry and he wondered if that was the effects of the gas, or was it nerves? Jake mindlessly reached for his bag.

He couldn't stop thinking about the faces he saw sitting at the desks around him. Madelyn was there. He saw her face before the gas. Mikaela was also there, Zach, April, Shawn. And Mae. His friends, all of them, they all sat around him as they were told they would have to kill.

Unless....he reached into his canvas bag, feeling unfamiliar objects and cloth before closing around a narrow strip of cloth. He pulled it out.

Yellow. A smiley face. Really? A smiley face. He was going to have a smiley face on his person the entire time?! What kind of sick bastards came up with this? He frowned as he tied the bandana around his arm. The yellow looked gross next to the weak gray plaid, but what was he going to do? It had to be shown at all times, right? He wasn't going to be some loser and put it around his forehead.

He dipped back into his bag, were there clothes in there? It didn't matter, he'd see to that later. At this point, it was best just to get it over with and find his weapon.

His hands closed around metal. Oh.

He pulled out the gun.

"No," he whispered at it, as though wishing could somehow make it go away. He was on a team, everyone could live, he just needed to find his team. How many were there? Thirteen teams and one loner, well, he was clearly on a team, no cream to be seen but... Hope dawned in his chest.

Maybe they were all on the same team. Yeah, that's right, Madelyn was probably on his team, what were the odds that she wasn't? Jake had never liked math and he wasn't going to start now. He clamored to his feet, feeling the gun in his hand like some alien thing. It wasn't the rifles he was used to shooting, but he could still probably clean and reload it if he had to.

Stop that thought. He wasn't even going to fire that thing.

He looked around. Could anyone have been put near him? He hoped Madelyn had, Madelyn or anyone he knew.

"Hello?" He asked weakly. Augh. Wasn't that how everyone died in this thing? He didn't care. No one in their right mind would play, right?

65 seasons though....they couldn't be wrong.
Edited by peregrineink, Apr 19 2011, 02:15 AM.

Honoring the glorious dead:
F26: Maddie Harris: Resident artist.- Seven Unveiled Masterpieces- Death by carelessness
YLW5:Jake Langston:Just a nice guy-No kills- Death by misunderstanding
GLD1:Mae St. Clair -One half of the Golden Couple- One and a half kills- Death by loss of hope
M18: Brian Larke: A horrible human being.- Two kills- Death by just desserts.
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