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They Could at Least Have Left Me Something ...; (Re)start of G15, open
Topic Started: May 9 2012, 06:42 AM (1,594 Views)
decoy73
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((Female Student #15: Jessica Vogel - Restart))

Some people took a little bit of time to get their bearings straight in this game. Jessica Vogel was not one of those people. Upon waking up, she had realized within a couple minutes, that yes, she was in a fight to the death, yes, she had watched that other guy get shot for doubting what was going on, and no, she didn't have anything that she could use to defend herself. Just some food, water, a compass, a first aid kit, a map and pen, and a pair of thick, heavy boots.

Fucking great.

She had woken up what looked like a stretcher, and saw beds, gurneys, more stretchers, as if she were in a small hospital, which a look around confirmed. There were all the trappings of medicine - stethoscopes, those inflatable bags they used to take blood pressure with, some charts, but with one small exception:

There was nothing that could be used for any sort of first aid. No needles, no medications, no bandages, nothing after looting through any accessible drawer and cabinet she could find.

Assholes. She threw one of the boots she had been given onto the ground. Along with the loud noise, she noticed something shiny sticking out of the toe of the boot, like a blade. Okay. She carefully pushed the blade back in, and started looking it over.

After about five minutes, she had her shoes in her old bag, and now had the boots on her feet. She tested her weight on them. Nothing. She took a few steps. Nothing. Must have to stomp to be able to stab somebody. Jessica looked down at the boots on her feet as she leaned back on the wall behind her.

Well, at least if I get to kick somebody, I can defend myself. At least this situation isn't completely hopeless.
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Casey the Undead
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((Megan Jacobson- Start.))

The important thing was that Megan no longer felt like vomiting.

Vomiting was not very high on the list of things she wanted to do right now. As it was, it came right under "eat a pigeon" and right before "die." It was gross, and it made everything you did for the next hour or so gross, and if Megan was going to die, she was going to do it in the un-grossest way possible.

Right now, she was making a list. She had decided that the grossest way possible to die would be getting eaten by some sort of ravenous animal (Hippos would probably be the worst), shortly followed by getting trampled, crushed, or shot in the head. It seemed really counterproductive to be making a list of ways to die when Megan was literally staring death in the face and smelling the rancid breath of fate, but, hey, it was surprisingly relaxing. Like murdering all of your Sims in a house fire so only the dog was left to live a lonely life in the burnt out shell of it's former home.

Not that Megan had done that before, or anything.

As far she she could tell, Megan was outside of some sort of building, which was where she'd woken up. Moving seemed like a whole lot of work, however, so she'd sat slumped against the same wall for...some time. Time was never Megan's strong point. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, but it probably was only a few minutes.

So far, Megan's course of action had been very basic. In order, she'd:

1. Waken up.
2. Hoped it was all a dream and that that asshole Kiel hadn't actually gotten shot in the head.
3. Realized it wasn't a dream.
4. Hyperventilated.
5. Felt like vomiting.
6. Decided vomiting was nasty as shit and not a good thing to do right away.
7. Started thinking about fun and exciting way to murder computer characters.
8. Stopped feeling like vomiting.

Very productive, so far.

But the important thing wasn't that Megan was trapped in a violent fight to the death with people who were her friends and enemies and graduating class, or that she was probably doomed from the start because she was a fucking Hufflepuff, and when was the last time a Hufflepuff did anything besides get killed? (Thanks a lot Cedric Diggory. And Tonks, but Tonks was awesome, so Megan was willing to forgive her for dying.)

The important thing was that Megan no longer felt like vomiting. Small victories, small victories.

She ran a hand through her hair, nodding to herself. Really, all she had to do was be totally rational about the situation. Freaking out would be bad. Bad was not good. Not being good meant dying. Megan didn't want to die. Ergo, Megan was going to not freak out.

Yay, syllogisms!

Megan opened her bag, vaguely remembering that she had been given a weapon. In all honestly, it probably wasn't going to be a useful weapon, but if she could walk around with a katana or some shit, at least she'd die looking badass.

Oh, hey, what if it was a bow and arrow? Then she could call herself Hawkeye and start yelling "Avengers Assemble!" at people and calling all of her enemies Loki.

Of course, a bow and arrow probably wouldn't fit into her pack, but, whatever, she could call herself Hawkeye anyways.

Megan stopped, furrowing her brow. "I'm not even five minutes into this thing and I am already losing focus. Come on Megan, you're gonna die, not start a superhero crime fighting team with Samuel L. Jackson and Robery Downey Jr! Focus!"

She fumbled with the bag a minute before pulling out a stun gun. Megan only knew it was a stun gun from years of watching procedural cop dramas. Still, she figured she deserved a prize for being able to recognize it so quickly. "Ten points to Hufflepuff," she said to no one.

Megan flipped the stun gun around in her hands for a minute, smiling to herself. "Now, if I'm going to be a real live fake Avenger fighting for my life against a bunch of my friends, then you, my dear sweet weapon, are going to need a very badass name. I hereby dub thee Nikoletta Sparks. Nicky for short." She patted the stun gun lovingly, before pushing herself onto her feet. Tucking Nicky into her belt loop, she took a look around at the building she was in front of.

She shrugged to herself. "Guess it can't hurt to go inside, right?" She paused, frowning. "Well, I mean, it could kill me, but that's not really a good train of thought to have right now. Positive aura, Megan, positive aura! Be your inner chi! Or whatever."

She braced herself, straightening her shoulders, before barging recklessly into the room. "Hey party peoples, what's going on in this corner of death-trap-island?"

She grimaced, shaking her head. "No, Jesus, that was awful! Who the fuck do I think I am? What are the words coming out of my mouth, even? Ugh, nevermind." She cleared her throat, noticing for the first time that Jessica was in the room. Megan smiled, waving cheerily. "Hey Jess!" She paused, suddenly remembering where she was. "Oh, hey. You're not gonna kill me are you? Cause I've gotta say," she said, leaning against a wall, "that'd be a dick move."
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Ruggahissy
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((Start: Sally Connelly))

Sally Connelly was sitting on a white tiled floor next to a metal reclined chair. She sniffed a bit, not allowing herself to all out cry and risk getting her face dirty and ruining her make up. Her things were around her in a scatter, her bag being torn open shortly after she awoke.

First, she cycled through her feelings on being entered into a fight to the death. However before she could get far into that thought process she noticed a familiar weight in her dress pocket was missing.

"My phone!"

There was no phone in her pocket, nor in her bag. They'd taken it. Without her cellphone, she felt naked and exposed. All of her apps and her pictures of the party last weekend where she looked perfect were gone. A perfect photo was like lightening in a bottle. Now it was gone.

She sighed and threw her belongings back inside the pack.

Why? Why was this happening? She was good, wasn't she? She respected her parents. She gave her last season clothes to the homeless!

Sally zipped up the bag. That guy shot Kiel.

"Well," she sniffed, "Sideways hats are stupid.

The only thing she hadn't thrown back in lay next to her leg. It was some kind of sword. It was pretty. There was that at least.

She firmed her resolve and stood with her bag and her sword. It would be fine. Sally was one of the smartest and prettiest girls at school. She was made to win.

She made her way down the hall. The tip of her sword dragged lazily on the ground, making a screeching noise as she walked.

Suddenly she heard a shout from somewhere close by. Something about a party. Sally followed and came upon a room with Megan and Jessica.

Sally tilted her head. The theater chick with the rack and....umm....an extra?

As good as anything. I can use Tits McGee for a meat shield, lord knows I'll be covered and Miss Bland USA can be converted to food I guess.

"Hard to make a dick move when there's no dicks in the room," she responded breezily from behind Megan.

"Megan," she said with a nod. "Uh....you....girl..." she said motioning to Jessica.

Sally > Katana
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decoy73
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Suddenly, somebody burst into the room. It was that Megan girl from class. Jess didn't really know her all that well, but she seemed okay.

"Hey party peoples, what's going on in this corner of death-trap-island?"

She then grimaced, and mumbled something to herself before looking back up at Jessica. She cleared her throat, noticing for the first time that Jessica was in the room. Megan smiled, waving cheerily.

"Hey Jess! Oh, hey. You're not gonna kill me are you? Cause I've gotta say, that'd be a dick move." Megan leaned against the wall, speaking in a very happy tone of voice. Jessica rolled her eyes and smiled a little.

"No, I'm not going to ..."

"Hard to make a dick move when there's no dicks in the room." Another girl came into the room. Sally Connelly. This girl Jess did know. In this case, that wasn't a very good thing.

"Megan. Uh .... you.... girl..." And the dumb blonde didn't even remember her name. Of course, in Sally's case, this was probably less about stupidity, and more because Sally just couldn't be bothered to have learned her name. Jessica just reined herself in and smirked.

"Yeah. I'm not going to be killing anybody. These are my weapons." Jess pointed to the boots on her feet. "If there's anybody I'd be scared about, it's you and your sword." Jess noted the sword Sally had with her. Of course, given Sally, if Sally made a move on Jess, it would probably end with Jess stabbing Sally with a sword.
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Casey the Undead
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Megan, to her credit, did not jump and scream like a little kid when Sally entered the room. She was very stealthy and strong and badass, thankyouverymuch.

That being said, she probably ought to work on her "noticing things" skills, because, woah, Sally had sort of come out of nowhere. Megan smiled at the other girl's comment, though it wavered a bit when Sally promptly forgot Jess' name. Jess wasn't that hard of a name. Then again, this was Sally Connelly here, it might have been a lot to ask for something like that.

Wait, now Megan felt mean for thinking that.

She blinked back into the conversation, taking note of Jess' boots. Lame weapon. Right, noted. Still, kicking someone to death was probably a totally valid way of killing. Hadn't that been in some Scorsese movie? Or something? She frowned, only able to come up with images of Leonardo DiCaprio getting shot in the head and Mark Ruffalo talking in an adorable New England accent. Damnit, there was a kick-death somewhere in the world, there just had to be.

Jess, as it was, seemed a bit more concerned with Sally's sword. Understandable. It was a big fucking sword. Why couldn't Megan get the awesome-looking weapon? She frowned at her stun gun, waving it a bit. "This is Nicoletta Sparks. You can call her Nicky. Or, you don't have to do that, cause she's, you know, an inanimate object. But, hey, I feel less weird talking to inanimate objects if they have names, you know?" This actually probably made her more weird, but Megan really couldn't give a damn.

Megan took a mental tally. Right, if Sally or Jess snapped, just flip them on each other and enjoy the show. Best case scenario, everyone gets a little bruised up and lives to see another minute. Worst case scenario, Sally winds up cutting off Jess' legs, and Jess ends up biting the other girl to death.

Megan tried very hard not to laugh at that mental image.

Still, Megan could probably stun gun them both and then run away into the woods cackling like a madman and excitedly reciting the end monologue from Blair Witch Project to herself. Everyone ends up happy. And then they all end up dead.

Cheery.

Still, better not to think about these things until they were already staring you in the face hard enough to make you bleed to death, right?

"So!" Megan chirped, still smiling. "We're pretty fucked, aren't we?"

She nodded to herself enthusiastically.

Hey, no one ever said dying had to be boring.
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Ruggahissy
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Jessica announced her weapon pointing to the clunky boots on her feet. Sally looked at them with a frown and one expertly done up eyebrow arched up in contempt.


"....nice," she said, clearly disgusted by the shoes. "Those boots are gonna bring all the lesbian lumber jacks to the yard."

She put her hands on her hips and sashayed, flipping her blonde hair before taking a long swipe with her sword, ending with the sword pointed down like a cane, one hand on her hip and her chin tilted up.

"It's cute, right?" she replied exuberantly.

Sally was taken aback by Megan's spirited endorsement of some black square thingy.

"Nicoletta Sparks? Like Nicholas Sparks, that guy who wrote the Notebook?"

Sally inspected it from her safe distance.

"So like, what is it? A razor or something?"
Sally > Katana
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decoy73
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"... Nice. Those boots are gonna bring all the lesbian lumber jacks to the yard." Sally decided to poke fun at Jessica's weapon before posing with her sword, calling it "cute." Jess couldn't help but think that Sally' endorsement was premature, as Sally wasn't exactly known for being a master swordsman, plus the fact that it was much easier to simply stomp and kick rather than swing wildly at somebody.

"This is Nicoletta Sparks. You can call her Nicky. Or, you don't have to do that, cause she's, you know, an inanimate object. But, hey, I feel less weird talking to inanimate objects if they have names, you know?" Right. The black box, apparently now named "Nicky" or something, was likely Megan's weapon.

"So! We're pretty fucked, aren't we?" Jessica's eyebrows rose a little at the remark. As if death by any causes other than natural was a good thing.

"Yeah, I don't know about that. I'm trying to see how we can get ourselves unfucked. Any ideas?"
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Casey the Undead
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Megan blinked back at the two girls in front of her.

"Nicholas Sparks is the guy who wrote the Notebook, isn't he? Huh." She frowned at Nicky. "I thought that sounded familiar. Well, whatever," she shrugged, "it's never a real joke unless it's a pop culture reference."

She waved Nicky a little bit, considering. Here, she had two options. She could either a) tell the truth, possibly gaining the trust of the girls and making valuable allies, or b) lie, and have the element of surprise.

As a general rule of thumb, Megan knew not to underestimate her opponents. People made whole lives out of tricking other people into thinking they were naive and innocent, and it made them extremely, extremely deadly. If Sally and Jess thought Megan was a little weaker than she actually was, well then, who was she to give them another idea? After all, a stun gun wasn't exactly a super deadly weapon, so much as it was a good distraction and way to get out. If Jess and Sally didn't know she had it, and she needed to get out in a pinch, she'd be in luck.

"It's apparently an electric razor. I don't know, it's mostly useless, but I think it's cute." She smiled, widely.

Jess took the opportunity to speak up, asking if anyone had any ideas to get unfucked up. Megan frowned, twisting her face a bit as she did so. "Uh. Well, I think the main objective of this reality show of death is that we're fucked. Like, I highly doubt there's a way to get unfucked. Just, you know, try not to die, all that. I mean, I don't really want to kill anyone, so right now my main objective is don't meet anyone who wants to kill me. But I probably will eventually, and then, well, we're fucked. But we're not right now. Right now we're okay."

Megan didn't love that train of thought. Maybe she was lucky that Sally hadn't stuck the sword through her abdomen yet, or that Jess didn't have a shotgun, but Megan liked to think that most everyone else genuinely didn't want to kill anyone. Then again, desperate people do desperate things. For the first time, Megan thought of Anthony, who'd been on her bus. She hoped he was having as much luck as she was. She made a mental note to go a-searching for him. And April. And, well, everyone.

Still, that wasn't entirely the point. The point was more that Megan didn't want to kill anyone, and she didn't really want to be killed (because death was one of those big, scary, definite sort of things, and Megan wasn't a huge fan of the unknown and absolutely certain), but she also didn't really want to think about it. Because thinking about it would make her scared, and being scared would make her vulnerable, and being vulnerable would just get her killed faster. The better option was to be cheerful and happy and acknowledge the fact that she was well and truly fucked, but that she wasn't dead yet, so she shouldn't act that way.

"I think," Megan said, "that our best plan of action is no plan of action. Improvise, you know, make it up as we go along." She smiled. "It's certainly a lot more fun, that way."
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Rattlesnake
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((Nick Reid continued from Pressure Point))

The trees ended abruptly.

Nick stood blinking in the sun, looking around at the sudden change of scenery. Behind him, his winding, indistinct trail lost itself among the vegetation. Before him and around him, it was all grass and sky and sun. All that, and a building. A rather beaten, worn-down building, but very definitely something with walls and a roof and a floor and whatnot. And, he thought, probably more - squinting in the brightness of the open sun, he could make out a cracked, peeling, faded red cross painted on the exterior wall. So the shabby little construction in front of him had been a hospital, or at least used as one at some point.

He considered his options. One one hand, he could probably find a lot that was useful inside. Medicine, supplies, weaponry, anything that might give him peace of mind until they were rescued or the situation turned out to be a farce, or give him a leg up on his classmates if it didn't. Heck, he could probably take a pretty good defensive position inside those walls. Dig himself in, choose when and where he was approachable. Fortify it like a trench.

...trap myself like a dog.

He frowned. There were downsides, of course, even aside from the rather distasteful prospect of cutting off his own escape routes. The biggest downside was that it seemed like a good idea. That meant that his classmates would doubtless see it as a good idea, and so anyone who hadn't stripped the place clean of whatever benefits it might offer might still be there, waiting with ransacked fruits in hand. Altogether, exploring the hospital was probably not top on the list for things he could try doing to increase his lifespan.

On the other hand, screw the jungle.

He thought a moment more, then stepped fully out of the cover of the trees.

You drive a hard bargain there.


Still, he remained cautious as he strode forward, ears pricked for the sound of habitation, legs beginning to tighten with anticipation. His heart quickened as he drew near; a voice drifted out into the still air, followed by another. There was definitely someone inside. Two someones at the least. He couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but none of it was screaming and none of it was yelling, both of which were good signs. Nobody was being murdered inside as far as he could tell, and as far as he was concerned, that made them good company.

He paused by the threshold, leaning against the wall by the door. Narrowly stopping himself from plunging silently through the door frame, he decided instead to give a shout to make sure he didn't take whoever it was inside the hospital completely by surprise.

"Anyone there?"

He gave a loud fake cough for good measure and stepped through the doorway squinting in the half-light.
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Ruggahissy
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"I think the only real sort of recourse we've got as of right now is to stay alive by means of survival. That's my guess though," she said leaning again a wall.

Sally picked her head up and slowly turned to look at Meagan as soon as she mentioned "fun."

"Are you brain damaged or something? Were you one of the kids who ate all the play-doh? What I'm asking you here is, what the hell do you think exactly is fun about being forced to murder each other? Is Hannibal Lecter your party planner?"

A male voice sounded from somewhere in the distance. It was too far to recognize. Sally wasn't going to take chances with an unknown person that had an unknown weapon.

"Yeah we're here. I'm just torturing someone to death right now because ummmm, the game has turned me into a monster and driven me mad! My blood lust is unquenchable!"

Sally motioned to the other two girls.

"Hey, make some convincing torture sounds," she whispered.
Sally > Katana
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decoy73
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Megan stated that she had been given, of all things, an electric razor. Jess inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that at least somebody had received something that was actually useless, as opposed to Jess's slightly unwieldy, yet somewhat useful boots. Both Sally and Megan agreed that their best plan was just to play it by ear. Honestly, Jess didn't have an opinion on that - if it worked, why not?

Then, of course, a small kink in the plan came when Sally took offense to any part of this plan being "fun." Jess figured that it was the part about trying to walk out of this deathtrap rather than leave in a body bag that Sally didn't think of as fun. Then, a guy called out.

"Anyone there?"

Sally then called back to the guy that she was torturing people because of, what, ten minutes in this game? Yeah, right. That was so tasteful and believable. Then Sally asked both Jess and Megan to cooperate. Jessica just shook her head.

"Uh, yeah. I don't think so. If she had been trying to torture me, she wouldn't be able to call out to you right now," she called out. "If you try anything, I'll kick your ass to the ground, so if you want to come in, you'd better not do anything stupid."
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Super Llama
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{{continued from Cheer Up, Emo Kid}}

A hospital, huh? That sounds like a good place.

Lyn Burbank trudged along, using her pickaxe as a somewhat unwieldy walking stick. Stopping for a quick break, she leaned up against a nearby tree, looking around at the landscape around here. Not bad to look at. Pretty relaxing, actually. If only she could just sit here and zone out for a while, and forget all her current troubles...

A gunshot somewhere in the distance quickly snapped her out of that line of thinking and she began hauling ass. She couldn't afford to zone out, especially not out in the open like this where any asshole could just walk up and put a bullet in her. Out of all the places she could do, the mall and the hospital seemed like the most appealing options just for the chance of finding herself some supplies, and eventually she settled on the hospital, since it was closest by. Sure, she already had a fully-stocked first-aid kit, but a few more supplies couldn't hurt, right?

Unfortunately, it seemed she wasn't the only one to have this idea. When the hospital finally came into sight, she began to approach the building...only to hear people talking inside. Shit. There went that idea. Sure, maybe she could just walk in the front door and introduce herself, but there was always the possibility that they could decide that there was enough people hanging around and just shoo her off (or even worse, try to kill her.) Still, she came all the way here. It'd be a damn shame to just walk away empty-handed. Carefully patrolling the outside of the building, she noticed a couple broken windows, looking into empty rooms with the doors closed. Maybe she could just sneak in through there, ransack the room as quietly as possible, and just sneak her way out and be on her way.

Setting her pack and pickaxe down on the ground beside the window, she carefully climbed her way inside, making sure not to make any noise, as well as not cut herself on the broken glass. Succeeding in sneaking her way in, she reached out and grabbed hold of the pickaxe, bringing it in after her (had to make sure she had something close-by to defend herself with should things go awry.)

Setting the pickaxe down against the wall, she opened up one cupboard. Empty.

She opened up another. Empty.

And another. Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Em-OH COME ON.

Don't tell her the people here already beat her to it. Or even the people in charge. Goddammit, wasn't that just her luck, that this turned out to just be a big waste of ti-

Suddenly, Lyn's foot stepped on the pickaxe, causing it to fall forward. The handle hit a nearby floor cabinet with a loud *THUNK* before clattering on the ground. She didn't know it was possible for a pickaxe to make that much noise falling over.

SHIT
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Casey the Undead
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Megan sneered at Sally for a second. Brain damaged, that was...okay, not really a new one at all, but it still had a sort of antiquated charm to it. "I'm not being serious, Sally. This is the literal opposite of fun. I am being irritatingly calm in a bad situation because if I don't play comic relief, someone way less funny and charming is going too, and none of us want that." She was going to continue on in a stream of vaguely insulting and hilarious comments when a voice rang out.

Megan blinked in it's general direction. She knew that voice! No shit, Captain Dumbass, this is an island filled with your classmates.

Before Megan could place the voice, however, Sally had taken control of the situation. Torture noises? Really? "Ow. Ow. Oh my god. Oh my lord. The pain. The unending pain. I would beg you to make it end, but you cannot, for it is unending, this unending pain is," Megan deadpanned. "Ow," she added, for good measure. She mock whispered to Sally. "Sorry, Hannibal Lecter didn't have a lot of time to teach me convincing torture noises while he was planning my Sweet 16. That Census Taker Birthday Cake was just a bitch to make!"

Jess called out directly to the voice, asking it in. Which, okay, maybe that wasn't the best idea, because just because Megan was making the best of Super-Awful-Death-Trap-Island with snide comments and sarcastic torture noises didn't mean that everyone was being as utterly ridiculous. Seriously, some people just handled pressure better. Like, instead of being so hysterical that it looped back around to being totally calm, they actually made real plans and decided to kill people by walking into buildings and opening fire. "Hey, hey, Jess, JessJessJess, that might actually not be the greatest idea we've ever had, I personally think we might want to put this to a vote, democratic republic and all that-"

Megan's stream of slightly panicked words was interrupted by a large thud. She jumped about a foot into the air, spinning a bit. "What? Who? WHAT?" She held Nicky in front of her defensively, hoping that she wouldn't have to use her "electric razor" anytime soon. "Who's that? What's there?"

Okay, right, there was a guy at the door possibly with a weapon, and there was Sally calling her brain damaged and then asking her to make fucking torture noises (really, who was the brain damaged on here? Let's take a tally), and there was good old Jess inviting people in willy nilly and not listening to Megan's totally awesome plan of a democratic system within the game (with Jess, Megan, and Sally acting as the three separate branches- Megan being Judicial, obviously), and then there was thunking, which was either another person or a Rodent of Unusual Size. Neither of which was really a good thing, in the end.

Megan blinked, shaking her head and trying to steady her hands. "Okay, wait, everyone slow down, what the actual fuck is happening right now?" She took a deep breath. "Right, knock, knock, who the fuck just walked in here?" She paused, realizing that they had no reason to tell her. "Uh. Please. If you wouldn't mind."
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Ruggahissy
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(GM of Megan mostly asked about >_>)

"Ahhhgggg!"

Sally shook her head and let out a short, high pitched hybrid of a scream and a whine of frustration. She stomped her foot, swung her sword up and pointed it at Jess.

"Idiot!" she hissed.

The accusatory sword swung back between Megan and Jess. Suddenly there was a loud noise. It surprised her so much that Sally didn't register what the voice at the door was saying.

"Fuck," she said quietly

Decision time.

Sally looked at the other two girls. Which one was more well liked? Sally didn't know. However Megan wouldn't shut up about how beloved she was. This was the time to put that to the test. Would their classmates let Sally go with a hostage? If not, they'd at least have to get through the Megan shield if they wanted Sally out.

"You all are free to give your input."

The voice on the other side of the door coughed. He was close to the door. She stared at it a moment.

"But I'm free to ignore it, you know?"

Sally grabbed Megan and pulled her in with the sword pointed towards her throat.

"Do yourself a favor and don't move."

Sally held onto Megan and side-kicked the door with all her might, hoping the person behind it was close enough to be smacked square in the head as it violently swung open.

She pushed Megan out first into the hallway, jumped out of the room after her and grabbed her hand, forcing her to run down the hall and out of the hospital with the katana ready in the other hand.

((Sally continued in Let's Go the the Mall!))
Sally > Katana
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Casey the Undead
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Don't tell me to smile
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((I'm just gonna toss up a post to get Megan out of the thread as well.))

Megan flailed around for a bit, and then there was a sword at her throat.

All in all, it was a pretty nice allegory for her entire life.

Megan blinked at Sally, trying to work out exactly how she became a hostage. Her head was screaming with ideas- number one being stun gun the bitch! and number two being but if you do that you are going to end up chopped into little tiny pieces!

So, in the end, Megan didn't move. She sat there and let herself be pushed into a hallway and dragged away at sword point. She just had to wait for the opportune moment to stun gun Sally and get the hell out, was all.

Or...or she could wait and see how this all panned out.

Yeah. Improvise. Right?

Megan was really starting to wonder what the hell her life was doing.

((Megan Jacobson, continued in Let's Go to the Mall!))
Edited by Casey the Undead, Jun 14 2012, 01:27 AM.
Bring Out Your Dead


Getting a Second Chance


Live free. Die young.
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