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Sketchy Ponderings
Topic Started: Nov 9 2012, 03:10 AM (796 Views)
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((F04 Dylan Walker: Start.))

Dylan had woken up a few minutes ago, but she hadn't done anything. Hadn't even budged from where they'd left her, propped up next to a large rock with her daypack dumped unceremoniously next to her. She hadn't reached for her daypack and checked her weapon or anything. She'd just pulled her knees to her chest and curled up, flinching whenever she heard a slight noise.

Her mind was muddled. She couldn't even start to sort it all out. She just knew she was fucking terrified. She'd never thought... of all the odds... why'd she have...

She thought she heard something rustle in the grass and let out a small yelp, covering her head and trying to huddle up into a smaller ball. When she found the courage to look up, she saw nothing. She might have imagined it. Then again, she might not have.

After a few more minutes, she clambered to her feet. Her legs were shaky and threatened to give way, but the rock provided enough support. She clung to it like it was a matter of life and death (kinda was) and looked around.

She was standing amongst a circle of rocks. It was really quite picturesque, and somewhere among the muddled, panicked clump of thoughts, she wished she'd brought her camera.

Dylan shifted on the spot nervously, glancing around and half-expecting someone, anyone, to jump out from one of the rocks. She reached towards her daypack, but stopped halfway. She didn't want to open that pack. What if it was something horrible? Or what if it wasn't? Either way, she was fucked. She sat back down again and clasped her hands over her head, rocking back and forth and trying not to cry.

She'd tried not to cry during the bus ride there, until the gas (had it been gas?) had knocked them out. ...She hadn't done well. She hadn't been able to think properly during that ride either. When she couldn't think, she normally drew. It hadn't been an option on the bus. Now, however...

Dylan stopped rocking back and forth, and rooted around in her pockets. She usually kept a couple of pieces of charcoal in there. It was her favorite drawing implement. She'd found a couple of pieces and pulled them out. Then she sized up the rock next to her. She rubbed her hand against the slightly mossy surface, scraping away patches of plant-life until a sizable patch of rock was exposed. Then she started sketching.

She started drawing the first thing that came to mind. The last thing that she'd seen before the gas hit. She started doodling out a picture of the strange man who'd briefed them.

She started with the outline of a head. As she drew, her mind started to slip into that blank, calm state that drawing came with. From there, she could piece together her thoughts.

She sketched out some rough guidelines for where the basic facial features would be.

You're in the Program.

She drew in the nose. This was going to be a messy sketch. There was no time for anything else, and a rock wasn't an ideal surface for drawing on.

You're up against... fifty kids? No, it wasn't fifty... a lot of kids tried to run for—no, don't think about them. They're irrelevant and... and just don't think about what happened to them.

She could still hear the gunshots that had followed them when they were—

Stop it. Think about now.

Dylan drew in some eyes, followed by hair. She drew a beret on top.

Let's say... thirty or forty kids. One winner. There are strong kids out there. Smart kids. Kids who can play football and climb over these rocks and do all sorts of things. And then there's you. You're just a skinny, half-breed bitch with some drawing skills.

She drew in the smile last. It was the most distinct feature in her mind. Yes, she knew that Program had some kind of purpose... but how could a man smile while threatening to shoot a high school student in the kneecaps?

Given how rough the picture was and the fact that Dylan's style of drawing was stylized to begin with, in the end the smile and the stupid beret he'd been wearing was the only part of the strange man that had briefed them that was recognizable.

With the remaining space, she drew a picture of a dragon that was about to eat Smiley.

So. How are you going to survive?

Dylan stopped drawing. After staring down her rough picture, like staring it down would make Smiley appear and say 'oh, by the way, there's a secret door that leads out of the game right here,' she kicked the rock viciously.

It didn't do much good. But the pain in her foot that followed was almost as good a distraction as drawing had been.

How are you going to survive?

Not good enough, apparently.

...Fuck.

She shifted a little bit, cleared away some more plantlife and started a new drawing. She didn't know what else to do.
Program V2

F04 - Dylan Walker - Weapon: Formerly a case of Stars and Stripes Cola (currently a rock and a Ruger Blackhawk) - DECEASED - "I can't make you proud. I just don't have it in me."
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

M05 - Marley Jenkins - Weapon: A red, white and blue dildo - DECEASED - “But this ain't a fucking war. It's just bullshit.”
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3
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((F11: Audrey McKee, START))

She found herself slumped against a rock. The air was fairly cold, but Audrey was pretty sure that wasn't the only reason why she could feel her body quaking.

On her right hand was the glove that she'd found in her pack. It was heavier near the knuckles than she'd expected, but it kept her hand warm at the very least. There had been other things in the pack, but she had found herself somehow unable to stomach digging through the rest.

The glove had been on top. Audrey had a feeling that was her weapon. She had a goal that that jerk of a man had set out in front of her; she had to kill all of her classmates with the weapon that they'd given her. That was a simple goal - either she did it or died.

Then why was she still shivering, alone, next to this stupid upright rock?

If Clark had been here, she knew he would have told her to go, kill, do what she needed to do. He'd have told her to stop being lazy. He might have even tried to fight her if she didn't agree. Actually, she thought with a little smirk, they'd probably have killed each other first.

Imagining her imaginary fight with her brother felt better than dealing with the situation she was actually in. She'd almost escaped into a reverie of them duking it out when she heard a rough thumping sound nearby.

Audrey panicked. Her mind jumped into overdrive. She didn't know whether to fight or to run. She was afraid that whoever it was had some sort of gun as a weapon. They'd already shot some of her classmates, she realized, even before the whole thing started, shot them dead. She also realized that she didn't want to think about that at all.

She could only think to do one thing. She stood, hoping no one would shoot her on sight. She went around the rock she had been sitting behind; she looked into the middle of the stone circle she found herself in.

She saw a person sitting there - Dylan, who always seemed to be a pretty happy girl. Audrey had thought perhaps to say something convincing, something that would gain her an ally or at least help her ward off an enemy.

"Hi" was all she managed.

Every time she took in another breath, she felt like she was choking on the collar wrapped around her neck.
This signature intentionally left blank.

Program V3 Prologue:
Sylvia Veneski -- F32 -- Clothes Hanger -- Alive -- Stroke of Midnight

Auld Lang Syne
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When it came, Maxim wasn't prepared for it.

Announcement day was one of the things he wished didn't exist. The Program as well. He sat anxiously as he waited for which school was going to be taken.

Of course it had to be his school and of course it had to be his year. Maxim waited in silent fear as he heard the names read out. When he heard Louisa's, his eyes opened wide in shock and as he was about to watch his friend get taken away, he heard his name being called out.

"Maxim Senders"

Maxim didn't say anything. Maxim didn't do anything except stand up and let himself get taken away. This really was happening. He didn't think it would happen nor did he ever envision it ever happening to him. He thought luck would be on his side and would allow him to get away scot free.

Nope.

- - - - -

((M09 - Maxim Senders: Start))

Maxim stirred awake, his body against the cool rock as he slowly began to regain consciousness. As he came to, the sudden realization of what was going on hit him like a steam truck and he jumped up, looking around for signs of any life. There were none. For now.

After scanning the area once or twice, he eventually calmed down and saw a bag, with a conspicuous gun poking out of it. Confused, Maxim moved towards it and opened it. He was given a gun. A really old gun, but a gun nonetheless.

The gun had a bayonet attached and looked like those guns he had studied in History. He also saw bullets in the bag and he gulped as he thought about using this to kill his classmates. While he wouldn't mind doing Callison in, or so he thought, Maxim would never be able to kill Louisa or Tori, both of whom were in the Program with him.

Louisa and Tori. They weren't here. This was going to make his time here a bitch. If he was with Louisa or Tori, at least he wouldn't be alone. They could try to survive together and avoid all of the conflict happening between the others. That would be nice.

As he stood there, Maxim heard the sound of drawing coming from the centre of the stone circle. Maxim pressed his back against the rock and leaned over, trying to see who was drawing. His eyes caught sight of Dylan. Oh great, she was here. While Maxim didn't like her, Dylan was more annoying than she was hated. Sure she was an idiot, but she wasn't anything compared to Callison.

As Maxim continued to watch, he saw the entrance of another girl, Audrey. She was there when Maxim came out and had that argument with Lenny. It seemed she was here too.

Sliding down against the rock until he hit the floor, Maxim let out a sigh. What was he going to do now? He didn't want to kill anyone. At the same time though, he wanted to survive. How was he going to do that?

It was then that Maxim had an idea. He had a gun, why not use it?

Picking up the gun, Maxim slung the bag onto his back and revealed himself to the two girls, aiming the gun at both of them.

"You know, this isn't the best time to be drawing." Maxim called out mockingly to Dylan, trying to look as intimidating as possible. He planned to intimidate them, maybe get their things and then go off on a search for Louisa and Tori. He wasn't going to kill them. At least he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Edited by jimmydalad, Nov 9 2012, 12:06 PM.
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Dylan was doodling a picture of Captain America (who knew why) when suddenly she heard footsteps. She spun around, dropping the piece of charcoal, and snatched up her daypack. She held it between her and the newcomer like a shield, scanning the other girl for weapons and trying not to scream. She hadn't even taken out her weapon yet, but she was afraid of making any sudden movements. What if they thought her reaching into the bag was a threat?

She recognized the other as Audrey McKee. They weren't exactly friends, but Audrey had never bullied her for being... well, 'overly tan'... nor was she the sort to go hugging minorities. Furthermore, Dylan didn't see any weapons on her, although she did wonder why Aubrey was only wearing one glove. Dylan lowered the bag just an inch.

“Uhhhh... hello.” What else was there to say? Dylan simply couldn't manage her usual smile right now. She fiddled a bit with the bag, trying to find the opening without spooking Audrey. Didn't want her to think she was going to shoot--

And then another voice. A mocking voice that was telling her off for drawing. One she knew well. It belonged to the boy who'd thrown her camera into a lake just a few weeks back. For a brief moment, she completely forgot about the terror of Program as a new wave of anger, anger that had been stewing for weeks, overwhelmed it.

“Oh, fuck off, Maxi-Pad, before you soak your—aaaaaah!” What had started as anger immediately went right back to terror, because Maxi-Pad had a gun. And it was pointing right at them. Dylan clung tighter to her daypack, even though it couldn't do anything because it wasn't actually a shield. She wasn't Captain America! She needed a weapon, she needed whatever was in her bag.

“Um... um-ahhh... erm, um...” Dylan stammered, inching a couple of steps backwards while her hand felt the bag for the opening. She found it, while trying not to let Maxim see what she was doing. “Ummm, we're... we're all friends here, eh? Eh, Maxi-Pa—I mean, Maxim. It's not like—”

Her hand had been poking around in her bag and found a box. Felt a little like cardboard, but inside were a bunch of metal objects. That had to be her weapon, it had to. So mid-sentence, she cut off, grabbed one of the cold, smooth metallic cylinders and threw it as hard as she could in his direction.

The metal cylinder hit the ground and rolled, coming to a stop at Maxim's feet. Which would have been great... were it not a can of soft drink.

...Oh god.

Dylan abandoned all pretense now and opened her bag wide enough to actually see the contents. It was a case of Stars and Stripes Cola. She did like that brand, but this was not the sort of situation she wanted to see it in.

"Uhhhaaaah?" Dylan squeaked. Her hands were shaking. She was dead. She was dead! She had no muscle, no important skills, hardly any friends, no good weapons and she'd just insulted and thrown something at a boy who had a rifle and hated her guts. She. Was. Dead.

She did what anyone would do in this situation. She cried like a baby who'd been punched repeatedly in the face.

"I don't want to die!" she sobbed, dropping her bag and curling up against the rock, expecting a bullet to hit her at any moment.
Program V2

F04 - Dylan Walker - Weapon: Formerly a case of Stars and Stripes Cola (currently a rock and a Ruger Blackhawk) - DECEASED - "I can't make you proud. I just don't have it in me."
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

M05 - Marley Jenkins - Weapon: A red, white and blue dildo - DECEASED - “But this ain't a fucking war. It's just bullshit.”
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3
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Dylan said hello, not smiling. Audrey began to regret coming out from behind the rock and talking in the first place. She didn't know what she had expected to accomplish anymore.

She opened her mouth, intending to say something else. Probably some statement of denial about how people couldn't possibly be killing each other yet, that they could relax for a little while until everyone gave up hope of living without killing everyone else. A stupid statement, because there wasn't another way out. The delusion felt good, though, and she had almost convinced herself to say it.

Then Maxim spoke up, and Audrey turned around to see him. It wasn't how she expected to see him, as his usual somewhat hot-headed but friendly self. He was trying to look intimidating. He was a couple inches taller than her, was being kind of jerk, and was carrying a really long gun with a equally long blade attached. The last thing seemed most important.

Dylan shot something back at Maxim before seeing the gun, panicking, and literally throwing something back at him.

Audrey was already at that panic stage. Maxim had a rifle, he was pointing it like he meant business, and she didn't want to stick around for the rest of it. That left Dylan alone, but Audrey couldn't fight someone with a gun. She couldn't reason with someone with a gun. She wasn't a hero.

She didn't even see what landed at Maxim's feet. She just ran, her daypack pounding against her side, hoping the whole way that she didn't get shot in the back.

((Audrey McKee continued in Every Cloud))
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Program V3 Prologue:
Sylvia Veneski -- F32 -- Clothes Hanger -- Alive -- Stroke of Midnight

Auld Lang Syne
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Dylan's panicking made him feel oddly powerful. This power he had now, Maxim never really felt this way before. Then again, he never had a gun before this day. Maxim was in the perfect position to kill Dylan and Audrey right there and then. He had a weapon and from what he could see, they both didn't have any that would come in handy.

Maxim never let his gun stray from Dylan as she started to stutter out of fear. He felt bad for doing this, but at the same time, it felt so good. To get Dylan to shut the hell up and not have a witty retort was really worth it. He might be seen as a villain, but at that moment, it didn't matter. It wasn't like he was actually going to kill them.

In her desperation, Dylan picked up something in her bag and threw it at him. At the same time, Audrey started to run away. Since Maxim probably wasn't going to be able to catch or shoot her, he left her be and instead looked down at his feet where he saw what Dylan threw. A can of soda.

At this, Maxim started to guffaw loudly, his voice reverberating around the Stone Circle as he started to laugh uncontrollably. This was the "weapon" the Program gave her? The fact that she thought it would even do anything made it all the more hilarious. He kept his gun on Dylan as he continued to laugh mercilessly.

"That's cute Dylan." Maxim jeered, getting over his laughing fit to see Dylan crying and begging for her life. It was a pathetic sight. It made Maxim feel guilty for what he was doing to her. He didn't like seeing her like this. Sure she was annoying as hell, but she was still a minority, even if she didn't admit it.

"God Dylan. I'm not going to kill you." Maxim said guiltily as he moved towards her, his gun still aimed at her head. "I just wanted your shit. If you gave it to me, I would just leave you alone." He explained to her as he got closer to her. After he was a shorter distance from her, Maxim stopped, gun still primed. As long as he got her stuff, Maxim didn't really care about what happened to her afterwards.
Edited by jimmydalad, Nov 10 2012, 11:02 AM.
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The other girl had run. Good for her. She was smart enough to have gotten the hell out of there before anything happened. God, why hadn't Dylan run? But she couldn't move, she was frozen in fear and all she could do was keep blubbering.

I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. What's Grandma gonna do without me? Who's gonna take care of her?

She heard Maxim move closer and instinctively tried to curl up into a smaller ball. At first he'd been laughing at her, but now... now he sounded different. Guilty.

Wait... he wasn't going to kill me? Then why the hell was--oh. He wants my things.

Dylan looked up, tears still streaming out of her eyes. She sniffed a couple of times... and then absolutely lost it at him.

"Oh, r-right! You just wanted my things! Because that is sooooo much nicer!" she yelled, sobs still breaking her words here and there. "That'll work out fine for me! Because, you know, I don't need food or water to live! I... I don't need a jacket, because only wussies catch hypothermia and die! If I guh... get cut open, I can totally brush that shit off without a first aid kit. I don't need a map to find my way around.

"You think stealing my shit isn't a death sentence? No, fuck you! Fuck you! You steal my shit, and that makes you a murderer. It just means you were too cowardly to pull the trigger and... and take responsibility for it! As usual, being a high-and-mighty hypocritical assface!"

She clung to her bag tighter and said, "So screw you. You're not getting this without putting a bullet in my head, because that'd be a lot more merciful, jerk."

She was aware that she was actively hammering nails into her own coffin. But it was better than any of the deaths available in the environment, and if she had to choose...
Program V2

F04 - Dylan Walker - Weapon: Formerly a case of Stars and Stripes Cola (currently a rock and a Ruger Blackhawk) - DECEASED - "I can't make you proud. I just don't have it in me."
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

M05 - Marley Jenkins - Weapon: A red, white and blue dildo - DECEASED - “But this ain't a fucking war. It's just bullshit.”
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3
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When Dylan looked up at him, Maxim physically flinched. The emotions in her eyes were so powerful that Maxim felt slightly intimidated by her. Then he remembered that he was talking about Dylan. He did not want to show any weakness to her, especially since he was supposed to be intimidating her into giving him her stuff.

Then Dylan started to whine. Whining about how she would die if he took her things. While Maxim did feel that Dylan had a point in a part of him, he didn't want to admit that she was right. He needed to survive and find Louisa and Tori. That way, they could survive together. Yes. That was what he had to do. He wasn't going to let anyone stop him.

His arms began to shake as Dylan accused him of being a murderer just because he was stealing her stuff. That couldn't be true. No, Dylan had to be lying. Maxim would never kill someone intentionally. Yet here Dylan was, accusing him of sending her to her death and calling him a coward. What utter bullshit. How dare she accuse him of being a hypocrite. He wasn't a hypocrite.

Anger was boiling through him. Why was Dylan making things so difficult for him? All she had to do was give him her stuff. Maxim didn't ask for anything more. It wasn't like he was aiming to kill her. That would be stupid. Her words just caused Maxim to get even more angrier, trying his best to pent it up to no avail.

"Oh my god you stupid bitch! Shut up!" Maxim shouted furiously at her, his anger reaching his peak. "I am not trying to kill you! I've never had and I never will! How dare you accuse me of being a coward. Look who's talking! You, who always claim that you're "only tanned" and prancing about making insulting nicknames and denying the fact that you are the very thing that you despise. You're a coward for not admitting who you are!"

Maxim was getting tired of Dylan. She was so annoying. She was making things difficult. She was the one who pissed him off with that entire spiel by the river. The only good thing about that incident was the fact that he destroyed her camera, one of the other annoying things about her. She was like the paparazzi and she was always there. Why did she have to be the first person he found here?

"So don't you fucking dare accuse me of being a coward Dylan, when that is what defines you! Just give me your stuff already!" Maxim bellowed as he aimed just above Dylan's head and fired.
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Maxi-Pad was mad. He started yelling right back, which made Dylan cling to her daypack tighter. Screaming on and on about how she was the real coward, because she wouldn't admit who—oh, say that again, you bitch.

She was a coward? She was a coward?! Just because she didn't broadcast the fact that she was a half-breed? Just because she didn't want to turn out like her dumbass of a father or her traitorous bitch of a mother? No. No, he is not allowed to say that. He can just shut the fuck up right now!

“Shut the f—“

Then the gun went off.

The bullet splintered on the rock behind her, but Dylan didn't register anything beyond that. Dylan shrieked and dropped the daypack immediately, jerking to the left in her attempt to get away from where the bullet had hit and trying to get to her feet as fast as possible. Suddenly, now that bullets were flying at her, death by the environment didn't seem so bad. Never mind the daypack, get out, get out, GET OUT!

Dylan clambered to her feet with an intent to run, but she hadn't done more than take a step when the world spun and the ground felt unsteady like she was standing on a boat in a storm, and she immediately tripped and fell right back onto the grass, her stomach turning from the sudden dizziness, and when she tried to climb back up again the pain finally hit her.

The right side of her head was suddenly just a mass of throbbing pain and blood and bits that should have been there but weren't, and Dylan screamed and sobbed and babbled incoherently, clinging to the side of her head like she could hold the remains together and just not understanding what the hell had happened and where her ear had gone.
Program V2

F04 - Dylan Walker - Weapon: Formerly a case of Stars and Stripes Cola (currently a rock and a Ruger Blackhawk) - DECEASED - "I can't make you proud. I just don't have it in me."
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

M05 - Marley Jenkins - Weapon: A red, white and blue dildo - DECEASED - “But this ain't a fucking war. It's just bullshit.”
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3
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Maxim's jaw dropped.

That didn't happen. No. No no no no no no. This can't be happening. Maxim started shaking his head, his eyes wide open as he saw what happened when he took that shot. He wasn't thinking when he took that shot. He assumed that by aiming it above her head, she would just drop her bag and run.

What he didn't expect was for her ear to get blown off.

He nearly dropped his gun as he just stared at Dylan, at a loss for what to do. He just stood there as Dylan tried to run away, collapsing all over the place due to the loss of balance with the fact that she was missing her right ear. He remembered vaguely his teacher telling him something about how the ears help keep people balanced, but he never really did pay attention in school.

After a while, Maxim realized that Dylan left her bag behind. Now was a perfect time to get her stuff. Acting on instinct, Maxim ran towards Dylan's bag and started going through her belongings. He took everything out of her bag except for the First Aid Kit, the Jacket, the Map and Compass and the packets of Soda. Maxim only needed her rations and Maxim could use the batteries from Dylan's flashlight when his ran out.

Having no clue what to even say to Dylan, Maxim threw her bag at her and then began running. At this point, Maxim didn't know where he was going or how he was going to find Louisa or Tori. He just knew he had to get out of here. Away from Dylan. Away from the stone circle. He just had to get away.

His mind was panicking. He actually fired at Dylan and caused permanent damage. Was he doing the right thing? Maxim shook his head as he ran. Of course he was. It was all worth it in the end. As long as he found Louisa and Tori, nothing else mattered. He needed to survive. He needed to find Louisa and Tori. He needed to find his friends. He was going to find his friends.

Nothing was going to get in his way.

Nothing.

((Maxim Senders continued in A Moment of Reprise))
Edited by jimmydalad, Nov 10 2012, 03:41 PM.
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In amidst the haze of panic and screaming and pain, Dylan heard a thunk nearby. The noise set her into a fresh wave of panic, because what if it was Maxim trying to finish her off? She jerked upwards, another sob coming out as more pain went through the side of her head, to see that Maxim had flung her daypack at her and cheesed it.

She stared blankly at the bag for a few moments, not processing why it was important right away. Eventually, and luckily before she lost too much blood, it hit her. First-aid. Fix it. Fix the ear. Or at least stop herself from bleeding out.

Still whimpering under her breath, Dylan reached out with shaky, blood-soaked hands and opened her daypack. She pushed aside the case of cola and found her first-aid kit. She'd never even touched a first-aid kit before. Uhm... what did she do? It was... she... she had to wipe it with antiseptic or something... there, that label had that word on it... was this right? Was it wrong? She... she had to do something, she couldn't just...

Dylan let out a shaky breath, putting a hand up to the tattered remains of her ear. It throbbed painfully when her fingers brushed it even slightly, but it didn't seem quite so bad. She could think properly. Kind of...

She unwrapped one of the antiseptic wipes and gritted her teeth before trying to wipe the bloody flaps of ear that remained. She let out a low whine as she did so, but tried to calm down enough to keep going. It stung like holy hell, but it hurt anyway, what was a little bit of stinging?

After what felt like forever, she stopped wiping and wadded up some bandages. She pressed them to the bleeding area and tried to stick it in place, but she kept doing it wrong and the bandage would flop off. Eventually, she wrapped another bandage around her head so it looked like she was wearing some sort of bizarre headband. That seemed to hold it. She didn't have to be a medical expert to know she'd done a terrible job, but... well, it wasn't leaking blood everywhere.

Still sniffing, still letting out sobs every now and then, Dylan curled up near the rock she'd been drawing on. It was cracked now, and blood had splattered on the picture of Smiley. Absently, she reached out and tried to wipe it off, like she did whenever she spilled drops of a drink on her art. All she did was smudge the nose a bit.

She hid her face in her arms and didn't move for a long time.

-

The pain dulled a little over time and started to remind her of something else. The day she'd gotten her ears pierced when she was nine. She had thought they looked silly, but all the cool girls in school had been getting them and Dylan had thought that if she got them it would make her cool. It hadn't.

She'd cried during that, as well. But it'd been alright because her grandmother had been there and afterwards she'd gotten an ice-cream for being such a brave little girl.

But she hadn't been. She'd been a sobbing little girl. And that's all she was now. Just a sobbing little girl who couldn't handle even seeing a gun without crying.

It was at this point that Dylan raised her head from her arms and wiped her eyes. She didn't want to be that little girl. Her grandmother would be watching. Maybe Dylan would never see her again, even on the off-chance that she won. But she wanted her grandmother to be proud of her. She didn't want to leave her with only the memory of a skinny half-breed curled up on the grass, bleeding and crying.

Dylan got to her feet. She had to steady herself on the rocks again. She slowly located the belongings that had been scattered in the confrontation. The remains of the med-kit, the pieces of charcoal she'd had in her pocket and the can of soda she'd mistaken for a grenade. She slipped the charcoal back in her pocket and the rest back in the bag.

Maxim had taken her rations and flashlight. If she caught up to him... well, she didn't know what she'd do, but it would be unpleasant. And she'd take her food back, thank you very much. She didn't know why he'd left the soda, but that was a stroke of luck. Perhaps she could trade soda for rations with someone.

Dylan hoisted her bag up and immediately overbalanced and fell over. Okay, dizziness. Blood lost. Not good. But she could move. And she was still alive.

That was something.

((Dylan Walker continued in Miles To Go Before I Sleep.))
Program V2

F04 - Dylan Walker - Weapon: Formerly a case of Stars and Stripes Cola (currently a rock and a Ruger Blackhawk) - DECEASED - "I can't make you proud. I just don't have it in me."
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

M05 - Marley Jenkins - Weapon: A red, white and blue dildo - DECEASED - “But this ain't a fucking war. It's just bullshit.”
Sandbox: 1 - Program V2: 1 2 3
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