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But You Won't See Me; James Houlihan
Topic Started: Sep 21 2014, 02:00 AM (978 Views)
Fenrir
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Biting The Hand That Feeds
[ *  *  *  * ]
The wind whipped Alice’s long hair around her face as she sat on the balcony, the cheap furniture uncomfortable beneath her and the slowly falling temperature leeching the heat from her body and chilling her to her core. If she were to look to her right she would be able to see the sun gradually setting over the horizon and taking what little heat it gave with it. Little flakes of snow drifted by, occasionally settling on the balcony or Alice herself before melting into nothingness. Tonight was going to be bitterly cold.

Alice liked the cold right now. The cold could be blamed for her feeling so numb lately and it excused her constant shivering. Her hands still hadn’t settled, still shook unless she made a conscious effort to still them; she looked at them in her lap now, stared at them, at her thin pale fingers as they trembled and fidgeted with the bowstring of her crossbow sitting in her lap.

She clenched them into fists until it hurt.

It… hadn’t been good since Josiah had her left the tourism centre. She immediately regretted her outburst when it came time to pick everything up again and piece it back together, herself included. Some of the spare clothing was ruined, soaked in half congealed blood, and some of the rations had burst open, spilling food over the floor and rendering its edibility questionable. She had managed to find all of the arrows, despite many of them managing to roll into some very awkward places, though it was hard to tell since she didn’t know how many she had to begin with.

She had lain on the floor so long that her neck had started to bleed again and needed another trip to the bathroom to fix it. The blood cleaned away easily enough but she had been distressed to see that it had dripped down onto her shirt, staining the pink a dark and ugly shade of red. The cut most likely needed stitches but Alice had to settle for splashing water on herself until it looked clean and tying bandages around and around her neck. They surrounded her neck now like a choker and sat uncomfortably against her skin, itchy and poorly fitted; they caught on her collar every time she turned her head and constantly reminded her of its presence.

Upon leaving Alice had intended on heading directly north of where she was, the vague idea being that on the edges of the arena she would encounter fewer people; solitude seemed more desirable than ever after her latest social interaction and a long walk would hopefully put her mind at ease.

Nature, it seemed, had other ideas and the wind had picked up dramatically before Alice could make it very far at all. The temperature dropped below freezing very quickly and the meagre protection of her cloak was not enough, especially since she had no way of closing it around herself. She had ducked into the first shelter she could find, which after some investigation soon turned out to be some sort of apartment building.

The idea of a large building, one with so many rooms and so many hiding places, worried Alice. All she wanted right now was to be alone, alone to think and just not be a part of this anymore for a while, but she could spend hours searching this place and still not be fully reassured that nobody was in her with her. Nevertheless with the wind threatening to blow her off her feet if she took one step outside, with the sky gradually darkening sky heralding another night and with the lightly falling snow threatening to make continuing travel increasingly difficult, she wasn’t left with many options.

After some consideration she had retreated to the third floor after some investigation. She wanted to be high off the ground, but not so high that she wouldn’t be able to leave in a hurry if she needed to be. She found a condo which seemed empty and clean and had taken the first opportunity she could to throw her bag on the bed and unburden herself of its weight.

She stood staring at the sliding doors to the balcony for sometime, transfixed by the patch of sky she could see through the glass. The imagery of snow had always captivated Alice, she was never a snowman and snowball fight kind of child but she had felt joy at seeing the first snowfall of the year same as any other young girl; she loved to watch the snowflakes fall, falling gently or being caught in a wind and blowing in drifts, especially at night when the white flakes stood out more against the black night sky.

Making her decision she stepped up to the glass doors and despite the cold pushed it aside. It had grown colder still since she had entered the building and the chill nearly knocked her flat. She found herself leaning on the railing, watching the snow gradually build up on the ground and form a solid covering over those areas which had become exposed during the day.

She leaned further out over the railing, standing on tiptoes and balancing her weight with her hands. She looked straight down at the ground. There was pavement below her, not yet covered by snow. It looked so far away. She was on the third floor. A dangerous height. Maybe she should go higher? And do what?

Alice stepped back suddenly and collapsed into the chair she hadn’t realised was there.

Once she had sat down she felt no need to move again for some time.
Program V3 Prologue
Michael Bair - Proud to be an American
Quote: N/A
Weapon: Brass Knuckles
Location: N/A
Status: Alive

The Departed
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ChainmailleAddict
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[ * ]
((James Houlihan continued from Look Around))

They had eventually decided on the Mauna Loa Condominiums. It’d work, James thought. There was plenty of bedding, housing, and nice warm places in general there. There would also maybe be commissary food? Or whatever they serve at hotels. Probably not, but whatever. He and Isabel had agreed to split up for a time, with him being maybe a few rooms away as he looked for a nice place to rest.

James looked through a room on the first floor. It was a little bit cramped, which maybe might make things hard if someone doesn’t want to play nice, but that could work both ways. Nothing is really uneven if both sides have the same opportunity (As he tried to explain to countless gaming buddies). Still, he wasn’t going to choose the small room when the rent was free, so he went up a floor or two and found a family suite, or room, or bungalow or whatever they would call it.

Now this was nice. Way better than looking through that sports place, for one.

He sat himself down as he unpacked his things in the tropical-themed room. James didn’t entirely feel like going to bed, so he pulled the chair outside to watch the sunset. He soon got up to bring the blanket out as well; who would tell him otherwise? It was cold outside, and it was such a beautiful sunset with the snowflakes and a few trees in the distance. He felt like his blanket was a bulwark against the cold, and that he was secure and snug. He stood up once more after what felt like fifteen minutes and went back inside to sit down. After all, Isabel would be getting here shortly and he didn't want to look like a doofus.
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Fenrir
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Biting The Hand That Feeds
[ *  *  *  * ]
Alice didn’t know how long it had been by the time the announcement began, but she took it as her cue to return indoors. As she stood her legs nearly faltered beneath her and shook terribly as she walked the short distance across the balcony. She closed the door behind her and moved to sit down on the bed; the soft quilt accepted her warmly as the mattress sank under her weight.

She regretted spending so long outside now. She didn’t feel the cold as badly when all she did was stay still but now that she tried to move again she realised how much of her strength the cold had sapped from her body.

By now the announcement was getting to the crux of the matter, the list of the dead and the guilty, and on this occasion Alice paid the proceedings a little more attention than before. Even though she might only recognise a fraction of those names mentioned she felt it was important that she at least know them in case the information would be of use to her later. It wasn’t long before she wished she had remained ignorant.

There were so many names, so many people, and the little details given to them along with their fate made everything sound so much worse. Two people had gotten two kills one after another and Alice couldn’t help but imagine having to watch someone be brutally murdered, possibly a friend or more, before having the killer turn their attention to you.

Bunny had died and the announcer had made a joke about it. Alice wasn’t sure how to feel about the news herself; Bunny had threatened her and might have gone through with it if Alice hadn’t of had her crossbow, but she was still a person, now a victim, and did not deserve to have her death laughed over or rejoiced.

The announcement ended with a long and terrible list of deaths that seem to have all occurred in the same location. It was hard to keep track of every name and who killed who with how quickly the information was rattled off but as far as Alice could work out everybody involved had died. What was more Alice recognised another name from within the mess. Shadi. That was the name, the real name, of the girl who Alice had almost witnessed kill two people right before her run in with Bunny.

Alice’s feelings in this case were less conflicted, she was ashamedly glad that someone like her was no longer around. She had beaten two people to death without hesitation, remorse or difficulty and she scared Alice.

The announcement came to a close and Alice continued to sit in silence for a while after, letting her body temperature return to normal before attempting to stand again. The condominiums were deathly quiet except for the sound of wind outside; even the ever present sound of humming electricity that had become so normal was missing. It was peaceful, but rather than find it calming Alice couldn’t help but feel restless.

She would never have expected boredom to be dangerous but she was becoming more agitated by the second. The longer Alice went without hearing a sound the more certain she became that something bad was soon to happen, peace had never lasted long for her in the game. She wished that she had a book with her or something else to distract her mind from these worries.

A muffled thump from below brought her to her feet. She waited for several minutes, crossbow in hand as she stared at the carpet beneath her feet like it might reveal something to her. She relaxed marginally when nothing else happened only to tense again when she heard another sound, softer but closer, in the hallway behind her. Alice turned to the door and raised her weapon as she heard the steady repetitive rhythm grow louder then quieter as it moved past her.

Footsteps.

A door opened somewhere close by and silence returned once more; either the person had ceased to move or was simply out of earshot. Indecision paralysed Alice where she was, the options of hiding and running warring in her mind while a third minority told her both were terrible ideas. Hiding ran the risk of being found and the certainty of helplessness is she was while running ran the certainty of being found but the possibility of escape if she was quick enough.

The third option was confrontation which Alice would have dismissed out of hand were it not for something holding her back. She remembered Josiah, remembered Bunny, remembered the girls in the beauty parlour. Alice didn’t want this situation to be like it had been with them, she didn’t want to be the one to have to react to the aggressor. The idea of hiding or running only to be found or caught or put into another situation like that was more frightening to her now than the idea of confronting whoever it was down the hall. It had happened too many times now for her to let it happen again.

It had been a long time before Alice finally made her choice, but she had heard no more sounds in that span. When she stepped forward, opened the door silently and peeked out into the hallway she saw nothing, nothing except for an open door three rooms down on the left.

Alice stopped beside the doorway, trying to keep her breathing steady and quiet as she listened for any more noise. Her crossbow felt strangely heavy, her body fatigued and she had to lean against the wall for support as she waited. More footsteps could be heard inside the room, followed by what sounded like bedsprings compressing; whoever it was must just have sat down.

Taking this as her moment of opportunity, Alice pushed herself off of the wall and stepped into the doorway. She raised her crossbow and pointed it squarely at the figure sitting on the bed; it was male, tall, skinny and blonde, any other details were lost in her rush.

“D-don’t mo-move!”

Alice’s attempt at an assertive tone of voice came out sounding more loud and squeaky. She tried to hold her crossbow steady with both hands but the tighter she grasped it the more her hands shook. The lose strands of hair falling in front of her eyes made it difficult to keep them open and on the person before her, but she knew if she were to try and swipe them aside she would likely drop her weapon.

Nevertheless, she was taking control of this situation, making the first move and it felt better and less vulnerable than hiding in a cabinet or running into the snow would have done.
Program V3 Prologue
Michael Bair - Proud to be an American
Quote: N/A
Weapon: Brass Knuckles
Location: N/A
Status: Alive

The Departed
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
((Isabel continued from Look Around))

After both deciding on the Condominiums as a good place to lay low, James and Isabel set off towards them. Isabel had taken some time to search around a few other rooms, while he settled on a room on the first floor to shelter in. She had two extra blankets neatly folded in her arms as she made her way down a flight of stairs.

She was excited. She was actually making progress with someone she could trust, even if they were on different teams. Looking around the hallway corner, she froze. There was someone in the door that was not James.
Scooting back around the corner so as not to be seen she panicked inside. Who were they? Was James okay? Dropping the blankets, she pulled her blade out of her pack and rounded the corner, ready to defend her friend.

"Hey! What are you doing! Step away from there!"

Isabel immediately regretted her sudden words, as she noticed the butt of a crossbow on the figure's shoulder. Swallowing, she trembled in place. Hopefully the figure wouldn't think to shoot the fat kid holding the weird sword.

"What do you want?!" She shouted. Her false confidence was getting a bit better. She no longer sounded like she was trembling to the core. Standing her ground, with blade in hand, she waited for the threat to answer.


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ChainmailleAddict
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No idea for an avatar so here are some bracelets I made.
[ * ]
Very comfortable James felt in those blankets. He was doing pretty well for himself, he had to admit. He had a team member who didn’t want him dead, a pretty secure and comfortable condo so that they wouldn’t freeze, and enough food for at least a few more days. Wait one moment.

He heard footsteps. “D-don’t mo-move!” a girl shouted. Shit. She had… a crossbow?! Fuck, one bad move and he’d be impaled on short order like some overzealous 14th century knight. Why’d he have to put down his shotgun? “Woah, shit!” James said, realizing mid-sentence his situation.

Think, James. What can you do?

There was some hesitance in her voice. This was good. This meant she wasn’t some monster. This meant she could be talked down. This meant that he wasn’t completely screwed. Thank god for that.

The moment after, he heard the tone of Isabel. She was there! She could defuse the situation hopefully, and even not, that girl had to be like 90 pounds. Fat or muscle (he couldn’t really tell) they’d be able to overpower her. Right? Okay, speak to her. You can survive this. James pushed the blankets off, left his chair and raised his hands.

“Don’t shoot, please! I uh, I’m not a bad guy! And you don’t look like a bad person either.” he said with a new coat of sweat forming on his face, “Ju-just trying to stay warm.”
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Fenrir
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Biting The Hand That Feeds
[ *  *  *  * ]
Oh god, oh god. This was all getting so out of hand already. A second person had made themselves known almost as soon as Alice had spoken and she would have thought she had been carelessly caught in a trap if the boy before her didn’t look so genuinely afraid of her.

Looking to the side out of the corner of her eye gave Alice a look at the other person which was slightly obscured by her hair but still revealed them to be a girl with a build similar to that of Josiah; almost as short as Alice but with a much larger frame. Josiah had been so strong, Alice hadn’t been able to do anything other than struggle when he had grabbed her and this girl looked to be even stronger. The long and straight blade in her hands drew most of her attention and made Alice even more worried. The burning line drawn across her throat told her what it was like to be cut open and it was an experience she drastically wanted to avoid feeling again if she could.

Tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them away rapidly. What should she do? For the moment the situation was in her favour, the momentum was on her side, but that could change quickly if she showed any weakness or hesitation. Luckily it seemed as if these two were almost as scared of her and she was of them; the girl hadn’t moved since she had spoken and she seemed to be trembling in place. It could have just been the cold however.

"What do you want?!"

Alice thought about pointing the crossbow at the girl, as she was in a better position to attack, had a visible weapon and seemed scarier to her than the boy did. However she was worried that if she took her crossbow off of the boy either he or the girl would take advantage and attack. She just had to hope that the girl cared enough about the boy not to put his life in danger, that she would take Alice’s threat seriously and not try to do anything.

Movement in front of her drew her attention back to the boy and she saw that he had dropped his blanket and was standing up… so tall. So much taller than Alice, but so skinny at the same time, she hadn’t expected that when she had just seen him sitting down. Everyone was always so much bigger than her and she felt even smaller now, facing two people and knowing that her current and continued survival was based on the fact that they found her scary right now.

Alice shrank in on herself. What could she do?

“Don’t shoot, please! I uh, I’m not a bad guy! And you don’t look like a bad person either. Ju-just trying to stay warm.”

Josiah had said something about this, letting how people perceived her be the way she survived the game? If they really found her scary she needed to try and keep them scared.

“I-it doesn’t matter. Good or bad, it doesn’t ma-matter. This game doesn’t care about that.” Whatever morality or ideals you started the game with, everybody ended it thinking the same way. Alice straightened her back, stood to her full if unimpressive height, and stared at the boy before her. “Sit b-back down.”

She turned to the girl next, choosing to address the question she had been asked earlier now that Alice had a better idea of what her answer should be. “I-I want to live. I don’t n-need any company. Just… just leave. I don’t want you here.”
Edited by Fenrir, Oct 1 2014, 09:57 PM.
Program V3 Prologue
Michael Bair - Proud to be an American
Quote: N/A
Weapon: Brass Knuckles
Location: N/A
Status: Alive

The Departed
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
“I-I want to live. I don’t n-need any company. Just… just leave. I don’t want you here.”

Isabel took a deep breath. The girl looked scared. If she could take advantage of that she was in the clear. Just couldn't show any fear.

It was too bad that fear was the only real emotion she was capable of right now.

Taking in a deep wheeze of cold air, Isabel mustered up the last shred of brazen confidence she had.

She straightened her back some more. She spoke slowly and maliciously, trying her best to hide the dread digging a hole in her stomach.

"Look girly, we have as much right to this place as you do. We don't want your company and I sure as hell couldn't care any less how much you want to live at this point, because newsflash sweetheart-"

She took a step towards the girl with the crossbow, letting the blade of her weapon glint in the light. She was shaking ever so slightly.

"So do we." She spoke with a growl.

She wasn't about to let another kid die on her watch. Isabel was fully prepared to defend James to the death if it came to that. She had to make it up to Damion somehow and if it meant self-sacrifice she wouldn't have it any other way.

She was face to face with death and it was terrifying. Is this how Damion had felt?

"I don't want any trouble with you, so drop the crossbow and hit the road. If you decide to stay in the hotel, I don't care. Just stay away from us."
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outfoxd
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
A voice echoes from Alice's collar. "I'm still around. This is how you're gonna play this, I'd make a point. With a big fat period on it."
TV2: Jackson King
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ChainmailleAddict
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[ * ]
“I-it doesn’t matter. Good or bad, it doesn’t ma-matter. This game doesn’t care about that.” Whatever morality or ideals you started the game with, everybody ended it thinking the same way.” the girl said.

How could she say that? James just couldn’t understand. What had to have happened to her? Was she just like this? He wouldn’t know, she had to be from some other school.

She was telling him to sit back down? He figured as such, but… shit. Was there any way he could do this? He couldn’t reach for his shotgun (why didn’t he load it yet?) because she could shoot him.

Fuck. He had to bet everything on his theory of her. That she WOULDN’T shoot him if he didn’t sit back down, and… and then maybe if he wrestled the crossbow from her, he could teach her a lesson on peace.

Isabel sounded pretty serious over there. He hoped she knew what she was doing, especially if her words were spoken genuinely. She might just shoot him anyway, he thought. If he was going to die, he’d let her know just how bothered he was.

Shit. Okay. You have to do this, James. He was nowhere near calm. “That… th-that isn’t true! Have you ever seen the Shawshank Redemption? It’s all about how you can maintain your morals in even the worst situations!” he said with a furrowed brow as he took a step. “And I guess this isn’t really a prison, but still! You don’t seem bad. Now, now please, leave before you do something you’ll regret!”

James hardly realized he was now shouting. He was also scared out of his mind. He also couldn’t even really tell if she was bad or not. The next few seconds would tell, though they felt like hours to him.
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Fenrir
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Biting The Hand That Feeds
[ *  *  *  * ]
“I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!”

Everybody always asked her to hand over her crossbow to them, how many times had she gotten into bad situations because of that condition? If people had just given her the opportunity to leave with everything she had she would have taken it immediately, but because they asked her to give up her one form of protection she had to refuse again and again.

The boy had not sat down like she asked and instead both he and the girl had taken a step forward, one threatening and the other calming. The girl was the bigger threat, she had a sword and was the most openly hostile, she Alice turned her gaze away from the tallest individual and pointed her crossbow at the girl instead.

Alice had tears in her eyes again, silently running down her cheeks as she tried her best to stay calm. She was in full panic mode now, dangerously close to that point past fear that made her do dangerous and out of character things, like threaten to kill Bunny or point a loaded crossbow at the first group of people she met.

"I'm still around. This is how you're gonna play this, I'd make a point. With a big fat period on it."

The voice was sudden, her arms jolted before she could stop them. For a second the crossbow was pointed straight at the girls face, before dropping back down to point at her chest. She listened to her mentor’s words, took them in; she wondered why he had been silent so long, she could have used his advice many times.

Don’t go into that building. He’s lying to you. There’s more than just one of them.

She couldn’t control this situation, couldn’t control any situation. She had had the element of surprise at first, getting the drop of the boy and the girl being worried for her friends wellbeing, but the longer the situation went on the more they would begin to realise how small, weak and scared the girl threatening them was.

She flicked the crossbow’s safety switch to off.

“I’m sick of this game. I’m sick of people. I do-don’t want to be pushed around by either anymore.”

This wasn’t about making a point. This wasn’t about playing on peoples expectations. This wasn’t her playing the game or using it to her advantage, it wasn’t about putting on a show. She wasn’t thinking about announcements or teams or getting ten kills or even about getting home.

She just wanted to live. Right now and right here, she wanted to survive this situation.

“You don’t seem bad. Now, now please, leave before you do something you’ll regret!”

A crossbow bolt imbedding itself in a boy’s chest, blood pooling out from the wound and a puddle of red creeping across the floor. Two people who would always think of her as a killer and a girl who would never be able to think of herself as innocent again.

“Too late.”

She lowered the crossbow slightly, pointing the sharp, glinting arrow head at the girl’s lower half. She pulled the trigger.
Program V3 Prologue
Michael Bair - Proud to be an American
Quote: N/A
Weapon: Brass Knuckles
Location: N/A
Status: Alive

The Departed
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crabCaptain
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[ *  * ]
The pain was sharp, and then searing. Like dipping a hand into boiling water only worse. Collapsing, Isabel held her thigh and screamed. The arrow stuck out of her, teasing her to pull it out in hopes of ending the savage burning in her leg. Touching the embedded projectile only made the pain worse.

Pulling her hands away, she saw they were covered in a generous coating of her own blood. A dark spot around the arrow was spreading across her pants. It hurt.

Oh, did it hurt.

Clenching her teeth, tears flowed freely down her face. The whimpering sounds come from her must have sounded like a child's.

Oh, fuck me. Oh fuck. Oh shit.

"You bitch!" She squeaked.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

"James!" She choked.

"James go!"

She wanted him to run. While the girl was staring at her.

Run far away. Grab their bags and book it.

Oh fuck Oh fuck Oh fuck. Owww fuck.

Leave her here to die.

Leave so he could survive this.

Oh, fuck. Ohfuck owwowww oh fuck James please.

"James please go!"
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[ * ]
((I apologize for how long this post took; vacation in a week and I need to get things in gear))

“I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” the girl shouted as James felt several nervous streaks of sweat roll down his face. Fuck. She really meant what she was saying, wasn’t she.

He choked out the next few words. “P-please, jus-just uh-ah fuck don’t shoot gah.” he muttered. Even he couldn’t tell how comprehensible he was. “ We-we’ll leave, o-okay? Co-come on Isa-”

All of a sudden, the release of her crossbow found a bolt in Isabel’s thigh.

James’ face immediately went into a state of shock. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t conceive it. He knew he was on SOTF-TV, but when he saw the bolt release from the crossbow, Isabel’s pained expression, and that the girl had done this with purpose… it really drove the point home.

Isabel wanted him to leave. To take both of their bags and bolt so that he may survive. He paused for a fraction of a moment. Who would he be to leave her? She was going to kill her! James Houlihan was many things if not someone who looked out for others. He could do it. He could save both of them.

His shock preceeded immediate action; adrenaline coursing through his veins, James tackled the girl in an attempt to get her weapon. He was livid.

“You… you bitch!” He screamed. “Ju-just fucking give it!”

He was now on the ground, trying to wrench the crossbow from the girl. He felt several hits. Punches, kicks. He answered in kind. “No, Isabel! You go instead! Ah, fuck!” He felt an almost sharpness.

Shit, she’s STABBING me!

The girl had found another bolt from somewhere and he felt a deal of pressure on several points of his body. It wasn't painful. Come on, James! Save Isabel and make her pay! He wouldn’t let a few superficial cuts bring him down! It’s almost loose! She’s even bleeding! A minute was all he needed!

He felt it give away from the girl’s hands! The crossbow was…

On the floor, several feet away.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he kept whispering. In response to what he wasn’t sure. The girl had struggled out of his grip. James stood up, cupping one knee and pushing with his arms. This action took a few moments.

His legs felt like they were made of concrete. He looked down at himself, and now he knew;

It was HIS blood!
Edited by ChainmailleAddict, Oct 19 2014, 08:04 AM.
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Fenrir
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Biting The Hand That Feeds
[ *  *  *  * ]
Oh.

"You bitch!"

That was a lot of blood.

So… so much blood, spreading out from around the arrow, covering everything, seeping through fingers, dyeing everything it touched red. So much. There… there were major arteries in the leg, weren’t there? Had she hit one?

She… she hadn’t meant to kill anyone. Not again.

"James! James go!"

James… James? The boy. The… the boy was still… so much red, so… n-no, she needed to leave now. Why had she done this? Why had she thought this was a good idea? Send a message? All this would do is lead to more violence, more bloodshed.

Alice reached for the holster attached to the crossbow, the place where spare arrows were supposed to be stored. Her finger scrabbled over and around it, seeking one of the narrow shafts, searching blindly as she continued to stare at the girl whimpering in pain that she had caused.

She glanced down, there was one arrow. She had dropped those that were not safely stored in her bag in her haste to escape that group of girls earlier, and while at the transport centre she had only managed to reload the crossbow and place one arrow in reserve before her nerves had prevented her from going further.

She was thankful that she had managed that much at least back then; with her bag still in her room and all of her supplies with it she didn’t know where she would be if she hadn’t prepared this arrow back then. It was only one, but that was all she needed to deter James long enough to make her escape.

Slim fingers pulled the arrow free and suddenly her world was upside down. Alice felt herself slammed from both sides, first something heavy crashed into her from the right, ripping away the air in her lungs, before her left side was crushed by something solid and immovable. It took her a second to realise that she had been knocked over and that she was pinned to the ground with a furious teenage boy over her.

“You… you bitch! Ju-just fucking give it!”

Alice froze, unable to comprehend what was happening as she got an intimately close look at what true anger looked like. Her left hand clenched around the arrow, her right hand clenched around thin air and her whole body so tense it hurt.

He made to grab her, grab something with his hands and Alice began to scream, high and piercing. She struggled, all flailing limbs and no purpose as panic set it; every time he tried to grab her arm or something else she would evade it or knock his arm aside, not through any kind of design but through constant motion.

She tried to force him off of her, balling her right hand into a fist and punching his side or his chest, kicking his side with her shins or bringing her knees up into his stomach. She struggled and fought but he was so much bigger than her and she was so weak she might as well have been trying to lift a mountain.

Then the mountain came crashing down on her.

His first punch caught her in the stomach and it felt as if she was being turned inside out. She had never been hit before and in all honesty is wasn’t a very hard punch, but it stole the air from her again and came so suddenly, so unexpectedly that it almost made her retch up what little food her body contained then and there.

Her stomach, her chest, her arms; one after another punches rained down and set fire to everything they touched and with each successive one her own resistance weakened. Mercifully her head and face were left alone or else she may have just surrendered to the pain.

The arrow bent in Alice’s iron grip and threatened to break. Her fingers were clenched so tight her entire hand was ghostly pale. Quick as lightening her hand moved and she jabbed the arrow into James’ side, sinking half an inch into the flesh and allowing vivid red blood to seep through the wound.

He still didn’t stop.

Alice stabbed him again in the arm, and again in the side when he still didn’t stop. James carried on hitting her like a man possessed, seemingly unfazed by the holes she was tearing open in his flesh. Her attack became more and more frenzied as the pain mounted in her own body, unsure of how long her own strength would hold out and desperate to make it stop.

Stop

The arrow pierced just below the armpit. It sank deeply but did nothing to slow down the punches.

Stop.

This time the arrow hit the upper arm two inches above the elbow. Alice thought she saw a moment of hesitance, a slight wince or grimace and her hope soared for half a second before that same arm slammed into her right shoulder.

Please stop.

Grazing along the top of the shoulder, opening a long but shallow cut. Blood from the various cuts and stab wounds ran down James’ skin and fell drops and rivulets onto Alice.

Get off me.

Arm. There was as much blood on Alice as there was James and still he wouldn’t stop.

Stop. Why won’t you stop?

Ribs. How could a person survive this?

Why aren’t you dead?

Back.

Die.

Shoulder.

Die!

Neck.

DIE!


No more blows came. Alice kept the arrow at the ready, her arm tense just in case, but nothing more came. Her head turned and she saw the crossbow lying on the ground a few feet to the side, she flipped herself onto her front and crawled as fast as she sore arms would drag her over to it. She threw herself onto the weapon as if it would shield her from any more harm.

Please, no more.
Program V3 Prologue
Michael Bair - Proud to be an American
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Weapon: Brass Knuckles
Location: N/A
Status: Alive

The Departed
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crabCaptain
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The Captain of Crabs (Not the crotch kind)
[ *  * ]
James didn't listen.

He attacked. He outright tackled the girl with the crossbow, savagely beating her, punching and kicking. That is, until the girl stabbed him.

She stabbed him in the side, and instantly the wound began to ooze James' life out of it.

James was still fighting. The girl was still stabbing.

"James!" She screamed.

The girl stabbed him in the ribs. He did not slow.

She stabbed him in the back. No reaction.

She stabbed him in the neck. Isabel gurgled. She became sick.

"James! Oh god, James!" She choked, slurring over her words.

Blood loss dulled her body but she could see James clear as day, about to die to some girl they didn't even know the name of.

Crimson spurted wildly out of the wound in James's neck. He lay on the floor searching for words to say and a means to say them.

Isabel thought about standing up and running over and throwing the girl off of her friend. When she tried her body would not move. Her arms were heavy and her vision was blurry and dark.

Eyes half open, Isabel watched as her friend died slowly and the bitch who murdered him throwing herself on her precious crossbow.

She had let it happen again. James was dying and it was her fault. And the arrow in her leg was the karma for her foolishness.
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ChainmailleAddict
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No idea for an avatar so here are some bracelets I made.
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James looked around once more.

Isabel hadn’t escaped. She hadn’t been able to, her injury was too severe. Was she going to die?



Was she going to die along with him?

He looked to the other girl, now cradling her crossbow. Adrenaline now having left him, the strength gave out from his legs and James soon found himself slumped on the floor.

Fuck fuck fuck. He felt a red-hot sensation around his neck first. She’d stabbed him there? Had his windpipe been torn? How could he tell?

A smirk spread across his face. He had an idea. May as well. “Tis’ only a flesh wound,” James coughed, chuckling just a little. Even now he could find something to laugh about, even if it was some long obscure surrealist comedy.

So he could speak. He gave himself maybe a minute or two. It was probably overestimating. There was a LOT of blood, he decided. How had he not felt any of that? He was feeling it now.

Holy shit ow I’m already going to die body give it a fucking rest let me speak I know I’m in pain

James turned his body to meet Isabel, any small movement spreading more pain throughout him. Keep it short and simple, it’s hard to think.

“I-Isabel. It’s not your fault. You take care of yourself. Find someone on your team, or just someone you c-can trust. It’s what I did. And, and I’m betting I would’ve been fucked way before if I was still alone. So…” James coughed once more. “T-thanks. Thanks for everything. You’ve been an awesome friend.”

He’d always been enamoured with the idea of going out gracefully. Though he always imagined it’d be at 90 and looking like a raisin, rather than 17 and looking like Swiss cheese. Could he even manage to? It’s not that hard. Don’t think. Breathe. People may mistake your resignation for acceptance.

“I’m… I think I’m going to send... the producers a... a strongly worded message.” James whispered. From there, he closed his eyes. They felt too heavy anyway. Pain subsiding and with thoughts finally unfocused, he felt the grip of unconsciousness take him with open arms.


JAMES HOULIHAN - EW5 - DECEASED
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