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Man, I Hate Poke Wars
Topic Started: Apr 19 2011, 02:30 AM (2,376 Views)
Egads
Rookie
[ *  * ]
((13C: Peter Campbell in his television debut.))

Peter typed the address into the URL field. As much as he didn't want to, he had to check. It was a painful, inconvenient, pointless ritual. But if he didn't, he knows two particular women who would have his balls sunny-side up over it.

On the page, he looked down to the familiar spot and saw two messages.

April Stone - poke back
Jeanette Buendia - poke back

Fuck. He clicked the suggestions, but not without much discontent. At first, it was funny. He'd poke them, they'd poke him back. It was a silly, empty thing. Poking your friends. What a stupid idea that was. Now, if he missed even a heartbeat, they're on him about it. Especially April. Oh god, there is no person that takes poke wars more seriously than her. She must have one going with every person at SDA.

And on that thought, Peter opened his eyes.

Not to the dark blue and screaming white of the webpage. Not to his computer screen. Not even to his room.

He awoke to a clear blue sky, fluffy clouds, and his back in the grass.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck."
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Enter Renée Carlson))

When the cameras first picked her up, Renée Carlson was lying on the ground, face down in the grass, a blue backpack awkwardly propped against her side. For a few seconds, she didn't move, but soon, she showed the faintest signs of stirring, a twitch of the foot, a clenching fist. After some time, she opened her eyes, and promptly rolled onto her back.

With a groan of protest, she threw her left hand up, her thin fingers doing a thoroughly inadequate job of keeping the sun's rays off her face. She immediately narrowed her eyes into a squint, using her lashes to filter the worst of the visual stimulus. She uttered a couple more indistinct grumbles and grunts before pulling herself into a sitting position, now leaning against the backpack which she had supported a few minutes ago.

As far as awakenings went, she had certainly had better. Also ones with less imminent death. It was fun to pretend to be on SOTF-TV, but that was exactly as far as she was comfortable extending her association with the show. Being an actual participant? That really bit.

She'd nearly panicked in her English class when her name was called. She was the one who did the watching. She was a fan. There were divides that were meant to be crossed, but this sure wasn't one of them.

But it was time to get serious. Renée had seen enough SOTF to know someone always was slow getting up and got popped for their efforts. She wasn't going to play, wasn't going to go psycho. She already knew that for a fact. That didn't mean she was going to lie around and die.

So, she shot to her feet. As she did, the blood rushed to her head, and it took all her concentration to avoid plopping right back down. She managed, though, and managed to also heft her pack. The weight told her all she needed to know: no way was there a gun in there. It was lighter than her average school load. Looked like this was going to be a little rough.

Then, in a panic, she dropped the pack, tore it open, whipped out her bandanna (white, with a dragon) and tied it around her head. Wow. Close call there. No reason to go out that early. What was presumably her weapon also fell out. A quick examination revealed it as an old razor. She'd seen one before, in some cheesy musical about a barber who killed people. The device was sharp, but also barely the length of her hand. She doubted it'd be as easy as that movie had made it look. Not that she planned to kill anyone, of course.

She folded the device up, then glanced around. There was someone else, it looked like, not too far away. Retrieving her pack once more, Renée headed in the direction of the other person. Time to find out how this would go.
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Egads
Rookie
[ *  * ]
Peter stared at the sky for a few more moments. He didn't cry. He didn't get made. He just stared. Before he knew it, he was digging through his bag. Moving aside a few things he knew he would need later. His weapon must be at the bottom. He didn't want to kill someone, or anyone, but if it was in defense, he would need to use his-

Porno mag.

Porno mag.

A pornographic. Magazine.

Quickly, she shoved everything back over it, as if he expected his mother to come into the field and ask him what he was looking at. He blushed heavily. What the fuck. The people were sick.

Shuffling through, he was reminded of the bandanna. Before long the dark grey adorned his arm, having found it difficult to put on over his hat. He sighed, noticing the comedic outfit they had given him. Hardy fucking har. A hippy outfit.

Dicks.

Behind him, Peter heard some footsteps. He jumped a bit before spinning around, slamming his hands on the ground behind him for balance. He found himself face to face with a member of the White Team.

It was a girl from his school. He didn't know her well, but they shared an English class. He knew her well enough to say her name.

"Uh... Hey, Renée."
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Renée stepped closer, her footsteps bending the grass, making slight noises with the displacement of vegetation. She paused a short way away from the boy, and looked at him as he spoke.

He recognized her. She recognized him. Peter Campbell. Not from one of the awful cliques, not some popular bully. Just another of her classmates, someone she'd have sat down with for a chat under ordinary circumstances. These were far from, though. The bandanna around his arm was not white. It did not bear a picture of a dragon. It was dark grey, and Renée couldn't quite make out what was written on it.

They were supposed to be enemies now. Renée had seen some of the psychos on past seasons. Somewhere on the island, the fighting had already begun, panic and violence taking hold. It would be easy to go for Peter's throat with her razor.

"Hi, Peter," she said. That was a hard statement to follow. There wasn't much to say to each other in these circumstances.

"Wish I'd been sick today."

It was a stupid sentiment; they would simply have grabbed her from her house if she hadn't been in class. It didn't matter that much, though. Something to kill the awkward silence was better than letting it stretch.

Of course, Renée was also thinking. Her course was clear. She'd always tried to imagine what she would do on SOTF-TV. The answer had always been the same. She'd do the right thing. Heroes were in short supply on these programs. Another person working to protect her classmates, to calm people down and keep them safe and keep the psychotics at bay, would always be useful and welcome. Teams didn't matter, except as a pool of allies to draw from. Renée wouldn't be killing people just because their bandannas were differently colored.
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Egads
Rookie
[ *  * ]
Peter choked back a laugh. Somehow, it didn't seem entirely appropriate. Someone could be dying right now. Something horrible could be happening to one of his friends. He knew what happened on this show. Just more filth that covered the TV screens. Just more mindless, numbing trash.

But this wasn't trash. It was really happening. It's real.

Still, he did not cry, or yell. He choked back a laugh. It may have been nervous, but maybe it could cut this awkward atmosphere. He gave her a wavering smile, "Y-yeah. Too bad."

His eyes shot to her bandanna. White. Not grey. He didn't want to believe it. He didn't think she would. She seemed so nice in class. So... sociable. He didn't want to even begin to think of he unloading a gun into him. Or sinking a knife into him. Or bashing him over the head with something hard.

He swallowed and asked quietly, "Are you playing?"

He knew he was at a disadvantage. Right now, he just hoped, and prayed to the almighty Not-There that she wouldn't be hiding an assault rifle behind her back.
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Peter laughed. Renée watched him, and opened her mouth, as if to laugh along, but then closed it again without making a sound. She shifted her weight onto her left foot, and scratched at her stomach a little, transitioning into toying with the hem of her lime green sweater. The boy responded to her statement, playing along. Then, he asked the question.

It was the most famous question the show had to offer. Renée had heard it a thousand times. She'd seen in on t-shirts. She had never in her life expected to be on the receiving end of it. She had her response all ready, though.

"Hell no."

With that out of the way, she sat down in the grass, across from Peter. She didn't make any quick movements. No one in their right mind would answer that question in the affirmative, and it was early still for people to have completely snapped. Peter didn't have any reason to trust her, just like she had no reason to trust him.

She decided to put some faith in him anyways, forgoing returning his question, since it seemed utterly pointless. Instead, she just looked at him for a moment, then said, "What now?"

As she waited for his answer, she continued to play with her sweater. It was light, thankfully, but it was still going to be pretty awful in this climate. She resolved to stuff it into her pack as soon as she could be sure Peter wouldn't attack her while her guard was down.
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Egads
Rookie
[ *  * ]
Smiling at her answer, Peter watched her sit. Even if she was lying. Even if she was just saying that to get his guard down, he felt safer. He knew Renée liked the show. A Survivaltard. He wouldn't say that, however. Especially not in this situation.

He breathed in a deep gulp of air, pondering her next question. What now? That was a tough one. Stuck on a deserted island with a bunch of insane kids he may or may not know, hell bent on killing each other in some sick battle royale? What now?

"I say we should find our team mates. Maybe if we convince them to work together. And then, try to stay alive."

Wishful thinking. But a man can hope.
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Renée smiled to Peter's suggestion, nodding in reply. That done, she said, "Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Just a sec."

She jerked the sweater off over her head, making sure to keep her bandanna in place. It was only then that she noticed that her hat was gone. It wasn't anything special, just a red pageboy cap, which she was probably better off without anyways, if she planned to even think about stealth. Still, it wasn't like her current outfit was much better for that. Her blouse was hot pink. She'd be visible a mile away.

She would deal with that if, and only if, it became a problem. For now, she stuffed her sweater into her backpack, noting that there was some other clothing in there along with the first aid kit, but not bothering to figure out what it was. Another thing to worry about when it became important, and not until.

Having finished with her pack, she turned back to Peter.

"Just one rule," she said. "I don't care what our teams want to do, but no playing, alright? It doesn't become okay just because three people wearing the same color socks say it is."
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Egads
Rookie
[ *  * ]
No playing. Thank god. This girl might actually be serious. Besides, she even took off her sweater, letting her guard down. She might even trust him. This thought made him grin to her, "Of course. Who in their sane mind would actually want to kill their classmates?"

He didn't really want to know the answer. All he need right now was a little faith in his peers. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of how warm it was. Jesus. He unzipped his hoodie, hoping it would help. Why the hell did he dress so heavily?

He took this time to look over Renée. Christ she was tiny. Smaller than even April. He never really noticed her before. He never really noticed anyone in his year besides Jeanie and April. But right then, a familiar face was more comforting than any thing else. A friendly face.

Suddenly, at that very moment, he became acutely aware of the dirty magazine in the bottom of his bag. He flushed heavily, and stammered out, without thinking, "Uh... what weapon did you get?"

Stupid, now she's gonna ask you the same thing.
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Peter asked his rhetorical question about who would kill their classmates while sane, and Renée said nothing. That wasn't to say the urge to reply wasn't there; she had plenty to say about the players. Now wasn't the time, though. Later, perhaps, when they knew that jokes weren't about to become reality.

A few seconds later, Peter asked about her weapon. Renée tried to smile as she worked the straight razor out of her pocket. With a flourish, she flipped it open and tried to give it a little twirl. Instead, she fumbled it and dropped it into the grass. Going red, she stooped and quickly scooped it up again, this time holding it out without any ornamentation of movement, hoping Peter would let the incident pass without comment.

"See?" she said. "It's a razor, I think. Like for shaving, only this one could also be a knife if it had to. Or I can just keep my legs nice."

It wouldn't be the greatest knife, that was sure, but any weapon for defense was better than being unarmed. Renée was a fan of SOTF-TV. She knew what happened to people on this show. Having even a little something to deter attack put her mind somewhat at ease. She wasn't likely to be overpowering anyone anytime soon, but a good cut had the potential to back just about anybody off, unless they were really serious about killing.

"How 'bout you?" she asked. Then, smiling, she added, "How badly am I outgunned here?"
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Egads
Rookie
[ *  * ]
Goddammit. This is going to be embarrassing.

But hell, what did he have to worry? It's not like he picked it or anything, right? She wouldn't think less of him for having a stupid thing like that for a weapon... Right? All he has to do is tell a girl that he had a magazine with naked women in it. No biggie.

"I, uh... I got a porn magazine."

Eep.

His face lit up more red than a tomato. His ears burned. He kept his eyes locked onto her, making sure not to look away in shame. He didn't do anything wrong.

Besides. It's better than lying to her.
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Well, it turned out Renée wasn't outgunned at all. Peter had pulled one of the infamous joke weapons, and an especially useless one at that. Still, she couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Ouch," she said. "I'm sorry to hear that. Still, some poor person gets a sex toy every season, so it could've been worse."

As she spoke, her voice naturally lowered in volume, and heat rose to her cheeks. She wasn't really all that used to saying words like "sex" out loud in front of people she didn't know well. It was important not to get embarrassed, though, important to be confident and calm. That was how the heroes were. She kneaded her hands together. She... well, okay, Renée was starting to get ideas in her head, crazy and dangerous ideas involving breaking out of this game, or, failing that, banding together with her friends and keeping them alive as long as possible. She was wondering whether teams could be changed, somehow, remade so all her friends were on one. She was picturing herself leading them. This was not speaking well to her survival prospects.

No, she'd be smart about this. Sensible. She'd be a good person, and she'd do the right thing. She wouldn't flinch if she had to get her hands dirty to keep people safe. But she wouldn't throw herself into the line of fire on a whim. She didn't have to be in control of everything.

To keep the conversation going, she said, "I bet you got an awful fanservice outfit, too. They're usually pretty bad all around, unless you get really lucky. Never understood why people wear 'em."

Renée hadn't given hers a look yet, at that. She was actually slightly afraid to do so.
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Egads
Rookie
[ *  * ]
Fanservice? Hardly.

"My hippy outfit is none too revealing, so I won't have to worry about it."

He squinted his eyes and looked at the sun. He didn't carry a watch, so he figured it was about mid-day. He closed his eyes quickly, feeling tears seep through.

Ow that was so dumb why did he even do that.

He opened his eyes and looked at Renée, tears rolling down his cheeks and purple dots floating in his vision. "Please disregard that. That was me being completely retarded to estimate the time. I'm thinking maybe we should ship out eventually. What do you think?"

He wiped at the tears with his sleeve, waiting for an answer.
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MurderWeasel
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I can trick them into thinking anything
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"You're lucky, then," Renée said. Of course, usually it was the girls who got the really awkward stuff. There just didn't seem to be as big a market for high school boys in skimpy attire. She was still almost dreading looking into her own bag. Whatever it was was sure to be humiliating or horrible.

Peter turned his gaze to the sun, then looked away quickly. It looked like he'd hurt his eyes. Renée raised an eyebrow, but he quickly explained. He then suggested that it might be in their best interests to get moving soon. Renée concurred entirely. Their current location was disadvantageous for a large number of reasons, the biggest being that it was flat and exposed. Anyone with a gun could make short work of them both.

"I agree," she said. "Anywhere particular you want to head?"

She stuffed the razor back into her pocket, and unzipped her pack, shoving her sweater in. She could make out cloth at the bottom, a good bit of it, but she wouldn't look yet. Best to save some surprises for those grim situations where some humor would keep everyone from falling apart. It wasn't just embarrassment. No way.
Current characters:

The Program: V3 Prologue:
Mina Mashall - Digital Voice Recorder - Making a good impression - "I didn't know you felt so strongly about me."
Erik Bell - Jericho .941 - Having lunch - "May I?"

SECOND CHANCES: V2:
Assorted flora and fauna

SOTF-TV V2:
EW4: Jewel Evans - Chatterbox Communicator Headsets (0/5) - Online - ELIMINATED - "Scars are just reminders to be better next time."

Past characters:

If you want an honest assessment of your character's storyline, feel free to PM me and I'll whip one up as soon as I am able.

Thanks to Bear/Frogue/Kotorikun/Ryuki for the avatar art.
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Lord_Shadow
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Eldritch Consumer, Requiem Agent
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Timothy Walker continued from Salted Trees))

It wasn't that he wanted to lie to her. It was just that Timothy was much more concerned with finding someone willing to partner with him who could actually make it in a fight than he was concerned about getting Kathy some paper. Hell though, he'd find her some paper eventually. He never made an empty promise. Unless it was a promise to pay someone for a bet. Yeah, good luck collecting on that.

Best place to start, he figured, was open ground. Sure there's a lot of places to get attacked from and little areas to hide in, but people would be real easy to spot there. It'd make recruiting someone real easy. Especially since there'd be little chance of them dodging a literal bullet.

He spotted a couple of people as they approached. Perfect. "Okay, I'm going to go talk to them for a moment. Just stay close, and if you see them about to attack then just yell or whack em with that stick of yours. I'll take 'em out after that." He smiled at her just in case. He wasn't really sure if he could rely on her just yet. He clicked the safety on the gun back off. He had read a little of the manual as they walked, enough to know he'd been given a single-action pistol. So he cocked it to be ready to fire. He was glad they hadn't gotten into a fight earlier.

He really would not have enjoyed dying because his gun didn't fire. As he approached the two others, he spoke. "Hey people, don't be startled. We're here to talk, not to fight. We come in peace." He held his left hand in the air, but kept his right at his side, just in case.
Mini Characters

There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!

1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
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