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It all happened so slowly; Open!
Topic Started: Apr 23 2014, 02:39 AM (1,625 Views)
crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
((Continued from Lifdoff))

She had gotten too hasty and she fucked up.

She essentially sentenced a kid to die by a one man firing squad.

Not only that, but she was all alone again. Easy meat.

She pulled Damion's bag off of his lifeless body. The straps were stained with frosted gore. For a moment she considered taking the club thing, but decided against it. She was carrying two bags now. Not much weight for her but enough for her to wish it were less.

Her breathing was shaky. It was tough to get a lungful but she managed to steady her breathing enough to think clearly.

What the hell was I thinking? She wondered in disbelief.

She wasn't sure but she didn't think people started stealing and backstabbing in SOTF until at least day three. She had gotten too fucking hasty. She fucked everything up.

Staring at Damion's bloodied face she wanted to cry more but tears wouldn't come. He was gone and it was her fault.

She wasn't going to play dumb any more. She wasn't getting anyone else killed. Play smart or die she decided.

Don't take risks you don't need to take.

Sitting down, she unzipped her bag and removed the powerade, and the sandwich. Drinking half the bottle, she closed the lid and put it back for later. The sub was squashed but edible, so she took a mouthful.

Okay, new rules Isabel. Play smart or die.
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The Homeless Beard
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((CS3: Dougie Sharpe, Killer Munchies))

Panic.

That's all he was as he raced back from the movie theatre, eyes flitting around the frozen landscape in desperation, looking, searching, with Jewel's voice ringing in his ears. He felt a constricting, numbing pain in the center of his chest, his mind blasting the image of her walking away - he let her walk away - before she started killing.

If he could turn back time...

Dougie wasn't sure what he'd have done.

So he returned to the scene of the crime, bursting through the doors of the Cabaret, desperate for a clue, a sign, of where she had gone next. So frantic was he, so hurried, that he didn't see the girl and the dead boy until he was almost tripping over them as he barreled around a corner.

Dougie slid to a halt, breathing heavily as he watched the girl, taking a mouthful of sandwich, over a corpse.

Slowly, carefully, he brought himself to his full height, sliding the bag off of his shoulder as he looked Isabel in the face. As the bag hit the floor with a muffled flap, he wasn't sure if he'd just freed up his body for fight, or lightened the load for retreat.

All he knew was that when he opened his mouth, he didn't have any words.
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
In the middle of taking another bite, she heard a "whump" sound. Looking up at the gaping boy she stared him in the face, wide eyed. She almost dropped her sub, but she clenched it tighter as she secured her bag's place next to her. They were both frozen in their spots, locked in a staring competition to who knows what end. She felt bile rising up in her throat as she searched for the words to explain her current situation. Her cheeks were still hot and puffy from crying and her hair was already a disaster. She probably looked like the perpetrator from where he was standing. It was probably rather inappropriate to be eating lunch of the corpse of your only ally so far.

Still choked up, she fumbled out a few words before needing to wheeze again.

"It wasn't me-" she squeaked out, terrified and already wheezing.

Don't look so scared, he'll think you're an easy kill you numbskull! her conscience pounded.

Bucking up, she tightened her grip on the sandwich even more.

"I'm not afraid of a fight, if that's what you're here for"

She didn't think he was though, considering his expression.

She could either run, or try to talk to him.

Run and suffocate in the cold, or talk and take a 50/50 shot with him being a psycho or a little lost sheep.

Talking was the best looking option so far.
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The Homeless Beard
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Dougie looked away first - his gaze first landing on the corpse on the ground, then shifting to the tile beneath his boots as he squeezed his eyes closed. He could almost feel the camera lens on him as he tried to hide the revulsion, the disgust, that threatened to make his hands quake. She said something - first an interjection, a correction of his assumption, followed by a testy threat that didn't hold much weight.

"I'm not," he said to the tiles, noting with a quivering stomach that they were tinged slightly red, "looking, that is. I'm..."

He exhaled through his nose, reached a finger and a thumb to the bridge of it, squeezed.

"I'm just - this whole thing... sucks."
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
He wasn't a psycho, judging from the fact that he didn't eviscerate her on sight. Her only hope was that he wasn't planning to do so shortly.

She was way, way too trusting of strangers.

He calmed down a bit and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"I'm just - this whole thing... sucks."

It really did. He wasn't far from the truth, though it would be more appropriate to say that this whole thing sucks major dick, because it was a bit more critical of the whole situation and had a lot more punch in the first place.

Who fucking cared this entire scenario sucked.

She wrapped up the rest of her sandwich and hugged her knees.

"He was... my teammate." She sighed.

Maybe the boy would feel sorry for her.

"I did something stupid and he paid the price."

But maybe he wouldn't. Sitting here and making herself vulnerable was the second stupid thing she was doing today, but hey, she was feeling frivolous with her last days.

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The Homeless Beard
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Dougie tried not to let the disgust show on his face at the girl's chosen descriptor - teammate - and instead opted to reach his right hand to his beanie, adjusting the rim of it to cover his ear. His thumb felt frozen, alien to him, as he tugged the material down.

He took a breath, braced himself, wanted to speak.

About how she thought of the dead boy as a teammate, a commodity, before a human.

About how her first instinct was fight, threaten.

About how she was already adapting to... this.

But he couldn't voice it, couldn't force the words through his windpipe and into the open air, for the microphones to pick up, subtitles plastered over live streams for the hearing impaired, banners with his face in a morose, black and white picture, the statements crudely photoshopped on top to be attached to some breathless fan's forum signature as they raved about the latest big event.

He couldn't voice it.

So, instead, he let out a shaky breath, and nodded.

"Yeah."

Putting his hand back into his pocket, he observed her - looking small, vulnerable - in the corridor. Next to a body that she had helped create.

"Hey," he murmured, voice too quiet, body language hunched and small, "why don't we- let's get out of here. You can tell me about it? If- you know - you want to."
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
He wanted her to talk about it. It was hard not to. It was hard keeping guilt bottled up with no one left to talk to but yourself and even you don't want to listen anymore. She started slowly.

"His name was Damion." She said plainly.

"He was really smart, and loved soccer and was kind to me and listened to me, until listening to me got him a bullet." She was frantic. Her face was red again.

Isabel wanted to curl up and cry again.

"He was my only friend in this fucked up game and I got hasty and I let him die for a backpack of food that would maybe keep us for another week!" Her voice was getting higher and higher until she was essentially screaming her words.

"And now I'm sitting here eating a sandwich over his body like some kind of animal." She squeaked, unable to keep going.
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The Homeless Beard
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
At the volume of her voice increasing, Dougie flinched back a step, wincing as she poured her heart and soul out. His hands froze halfway out of his pockets, idle, unsure of their next move, and Isabel took the time to squeak, curl into herself.

Maybe he'd been hasty in his earlier judgement, here. Maybe she wasn't adapting - or was trying to but couldn't.

He moved closer, squatting down to her level, his big body lowering as his hands slid to his knees, curled there. Hesitatingly, he reached his left hand out, touched her shoulder with two fingertips.

"It's okay."

It wasn't.
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
"It's okay."

His words stung her hard. It wasn't. It really really wasn't.

She still couldn't make tears. She was dried up inside. She wanted to crumble into dust and float away on the wind. She wanted to get off this island.

Her emotions were out of wack. A minute ago she was feeling confident, and brazen and now she felt like dying all over again. This show was getting to her already.

The large boy let his fingers slide off of her shoulder as she uncurled her body. She tried calming herself down a bit more. She wanted to make friends with him. She didn't like the idea of being alone again, even if it meant she would partner up with someone clearly not on her team. She could take the risk, or she could go back to being socially deprived and shit out of luck.

Looking up at the boy, she asked him a single question.

"What's your name?"
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Namira
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Paint me like one of your Sith girls
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Amir continued from Deliver Us))

In terms of most excellent adventures and engaging movie hooks, Amir could think of better beginnings than throwing a shoe at someone's head and then running away. You couldn't even really do anything with that. Shoe Ninja would be like, a C list kung fu parody movie where nobody's mouths matched up with the dialogue and all the fight scenes had cheesy slow-mo and-

And Allah-almighty on a pogo stick he'd nearly just died and he couldn't even keep his head in gear. Søren had got popped in the head and there probably hadn't been a hell of a lot stopping Jewel from spreading the cheer, if she'd wanted. Maybe she had. For all Amir knew she'd killed Brendan the second Amir bolted.

Also it was cold and Amir did not appreciate that.

Concentrating wasn't coming easily, he kept finding himself getting abstracted as he spotted cameras, thinking about who was behind the setup, why they'd chosen specific angles and shots to set up. Had to be an interesting job, trying to anticipate where things would go down, knowing that you wouldn't be able to reshoot footage, or adjust your equipment on the go. He paused, leaning the trident against himself, shuttering his fingers as he tried to figure out one of the views....

Damn, that had to take so much preparation.

Low voices were coming from nearby. Amir lowered his hands and let the trident drop into his right.

He moved around the corner.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages... Hi."
~*~

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The Homeless Beard
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Ah, Dougie - I'm... I'm Dougie," he replied to Isabel, half-smiling, the expression feeling fake and unnatural. "What's yours-"

Suddenly, the hallway was filled with a much older looking kid, and Dougie turned to face the newcomer, fingers tightening, knees bending slightly - once again, unsure if he was preparing for fight or flight. Immediately, Dougie didn't like the carefree attitude, the seemingly devil-may-care words that were tossed out.

Isabel's teammate comment. Jewel's apparent murdering of classmates. The dead boy at their feet.

And he was making some sort of entrance.

"Do you - is this fucking funny to you?" He snapped out, irritated fingers tugging at his beanie.
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Dr. Freud
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"Feed my anger with children. Feed my lust with bikini food."
[ *  * ]
((Lily Ashburg continued from Won't You Spare Me Over Another Year?))

Valerie was gone, and Lily felt like somehow this was her fault. She had a partially drunk bottle of water in her left hand, and her sweater was tied around her hips, despite the chill. She'd been walking so quickly that the cold didn't bother her.

Rationally, she knew that Valerie hadn't been her responsibility. Neither, for the record, was Michael. They were all just confused teenagers trying to make their way through this crazy show. She suddenly remembered that Valerie was on her “team.” She shook her head and tried to dismiss the thought. Teams still didn't matter to her. At least, they shouldn't.

Despite what her head kept trying to tell her, Lily felt awful. Somehow, she'd started making executive decisions. She'd led them into the restaurant where the boy—Austin—had been killed. She'd gone inside the stupid tower in spite of it being strewn with bodies. It seemed like every decision she'd made had made things worse for them.

She tried to justify her actions. They'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was looking for a friend. She was trying to find ways to defend them as a group. The truth, however, was that she had been making decisions for the group based on her own selfish interests. Finding Dougie, getting a gun, these were things that would only benefit her. Michael and Valerie had just been dragged along behind her. She didn't even know what they'd wanted. She hadn't asked.

There was a kind of open-air theater ahead of her. She looked over, and saw that there were three people on the stage. She raised the bat in her right hand, and moved closer.

She felt like she'd been punched in the gut. The bat and the bottle fell from her hands as she froze. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, and her vision blurred as tears flooded her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat and it came out as a sob. She tried again.

“Dougie!”
Lily

"Hero will never give up, never hide, never be defeated, never accept evil." --Samurai Flamenco
"Love is all about flowers and sunshine and puppies and nipple clamps." -Rubix, "Truth About Love" Tour 2013
"You are not allowed to mess with my profile!" - Irene 2014
"Words, words, words. Once I had a gift." --Shakespeare in Love
"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me." -Hunter S. Thompson
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
Her new friend's name was apparently Dougie. Just as she learned this fact they were interrupted by a boy from Davison, Amir leaning on what looked like a trident.

He made what Isabel assumed was supposed to be an attempt at lightening the situation. Or maybe this was his idea of a good time. She didn't really know Amir all that well. In any case, this was not her idea of a situation for joking around.

She saw Dougie's face twist in anger as he chastised the large boy for his dark sense of humor. She wanted to yell at him as well but she was startled by another entrance. This time it was a blonde girl. She had an upset expression on her face and her sweater for some reason around her waist instead of actually on. The upset expression changed to what could be described as either relieved happiness or woeful regret as she laid eyes on the two of them. Tears filled her cheeks as she called out to Dougie. Her weapon clattered to the ground.

She didn't want to break up the heartwarming reunion. At least she hoped this would be a heartwarming reunion. She didn't want to see anyone skewered on the end of Amir's trident. Nor did she want to see anyone smashed over the head with the girl's bat, even if it was currently not in her hands.

She wanted to know whether or not she could trust these people.
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Namira
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Paint me like one of your Sith girls
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The response was a bit angrier than Amir had expected. Maybe he'd walked in on touchy love-feelings time unintentionally, although it hadn't looked that when when he'd discovered the pair.

Guy, he didn't recognise in the slightest. Probably from otherschool(tm). Girl, Amir knew a little. Isabel, or something along those lines. Not best of buddies, probably knew her about as well as Brendan and they all knew how that had turned out.

...Probably harsh. Hadn't been Brendan's fault that miss black diamonds had turned out to have a chip on her shoulder.

As for the dude and his obvious frustration, well, Amir had never really known how to leave well enough alone.

"Hilarious," he deadpanned. "This is the most fun I have had in my life. I would recommend it to all of my friends," a pause. A shrug. "Sorry that I'm not all doom and gloom, chief. I could cry in a corner or make the best of it, and I look terrible crying on camera."

Further comment was cut off as a name was called out. Dougie? Was this guy Dougie- duh. Amir looked around and lo and behold another girl, this one in tears. Aw dammit, it was touchy love-feelings time, he'd got here just early enough to catch it!

"Squishy music? Do I hear 'squishy music dub-overs'?" Amir muttered to himself.
~*~

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The Homeless Beard
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Dougie's expression hardened at Amir's response, a darker countenance coming over him as Amir remained glib, affable. His right hand tightened into a dark knot of skin and bone, one booted foot raising off of the floor, moving towards him. He opened his mouth, choked on a response, tried to force the words out-

And then a voice cried out and he turned his head and all his brain registered was the word Lily before he was moving, rushing, running, and wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tight.

She was here. He let himself breathe her in - the sweat, the fear, the tears - and be soothed for a moment, one blessed moment where there wasn't some asshole making jokes about a corpse, no teammate before person, no Jewel committing murders in his ear or weight of guilt for letting her go.

For a blessed moment, there was Lily, and there was Dougie.

He took strength from that.

Of course, the moment only lasted so long. Amir's comment - still blithe, still sarcastic - served to rend the moment like a blade through paper, making him take a step back, and weigh the reality of the situation. His hands slid down Lily's arms, checking for damage, bruises, cuts.

She was here. Oh god, she was here, where people were going to actively try to kill her. He gripped her shoulders, bending low to see her eyes.

"Thank god..." Too many ways to end the sentence.

You're here. I found you. You're alright.

"Hey," he settled on.
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