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he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts; now privarte
Topic Started: Sep 22 2017, 09:19 AM (1,198 Views)
The Yugetnam War
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best officer on the force
[ *  *  *  * ]
She could feel the bruises on her face, as she looked out to the sea. The aching in her bones. The pain crawling under her skin, always throbbing, always hurting, always staying no matter what she tried to do, no matter what she tried to treat her body with. She’d earned her scars back at the cliffs, when she had ran. When she had gotten away. When she had felt that feeling of pride in the tunnels, knowing that she had won. Knowing that she had been better than everyone back there who had tried to stop her. She’d loved that. Because she’d won. Because she’d been able to show the whole world - her parents, Saffron, everyone else in her family - that she was better. That she would be the fittest.

But even though she’d done it, even though she’d had that victory, it seemed as if the world wouldn’t let her have it. It seemed as if everything she had accomplished within the previous day was hollow now.

Because apparently Paris had managed to survive.

Because apparently what she’d done wasn’t enough.

And she could feel the bruises on her face, as she looked out to sea. The aching in her bones. The pain crawling under her skin, reminding her of what had happened, back there. Reminding her of what she’d had to pay attain her victory.

Telling her that she had lost.

But that was okay, right? She could recover. Flourish. Make the best of this. If Paris wasn’t dead - if he had somehow managed to make it though what she’d done - then it meant she hadn’t killed anyone. It meant that no-one would think she would be able to do what she’d already done. They’d underestimate her. Think of her just as an aspiring serial killer's next victim.

And the bruises. They’d help too, she realized. They’d see her weak, they’d see her as easy prey, and if someone were benevolent - if someone was dumb enough to think that helping people was the way out of here - they’d take pity on her. They might accept her. They might try to protect her.

And she could go with them.

And it would work.

Do you really wanna do that, though?

Do you really want to be that girl who needs other people to do things for her?


It didn’t matter.

It was the choice that would let her win.

And as she put her hand on the post before the rope bridge, as she looked out at the sun and the sea, she knew what she was going to do. She knew she was going to find people again. She knew that she was going to do whatever it took after that.

And she knew she was going to win.
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TwoThirty
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((Lance Adams continued from World 1-2))

The sound of two pair of feet echoed the ground. Lance's stomach felt weird since he heard the announcements. People were dead and it was confirmed. Adonis, like the wanker he was, however had lied to him straight in the face. Kasumi was alive, he would see her again. Lance could see her again. Hope.

But when Vincent vanished when he walked away from him and Damion that was the last moment Lance had saw him. A pat on his shoulder, a good bye and never seen again.

And Aaron? Aaron, his friend Aaron? Shot by Everett Taylor. It felt like a part of Lance's childhood died.

Whenever a name was announced Lance thought of the last time they saw each other. Jeanette and him had a very awkward situation back in class where Jeanette tried to flirt with him with Lance having had to explain that he and Kasumi were dating. Then he saw her a couple of times in the hallways and she was on the bus, too. And now that girl was dead.

Yasmin, a shy girl. He couldn't recall her that much, didn't notice her most of the time. Shy. She was kinda there on the trip. Last time Lance really noticed her was when he tried to small talk with her about a movie. It did not really lead to anything interesting, really. Shy girl. Dead girl.

His mind went away from the departed to the person standing in front of them. The pictures in head faded away.

Lance and Chuck arrived at the ravine with seeing the back of a girl with a white shirt, black hair.

He decided to make the first step.

"Hey..."

It was Jasmine, it appeared. He also saw her often in the hallways of the school the previous week and saw her on the bus. The last time he talked with her personally was when they were talking about homework during lunch. But she was still alive.
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General Goose
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((Chuck Soileaux continued from World 1-2.))

So, there was always the chance it was a lie. It would be the classic act of manipulation, of sabotage, of convincing any recalcitrant classmates that their prospects really were as dire and humanity really was as monstrous as the terrorists hypothesised. It would be a way of rigging the game. Of changing the incentives. Of changing the perimeters surrounding them, the context they lived in, sowing distrust and confusion, to plant such lies.

Sure, some classmates would know not to trust the announcements. But it would only take one to be pushed off the edge for them to have the desired effect.

And so a morsel of hope remained. That those listed as deceased were in fact still alive, confused about the reports to the contrary, realising the sheer scale of the terrorists' duplicity and audacity. And there was a chance that the terrorists had miscalculated, that those lies would be seen through. That cooperation, symbolic or effective, could emerge, that the Lord of the Flies fanfic the terrorists so eagerly wanted enacted would be averted.

He had a way of testing that hypothesis. Not a perfect way. Chuck was only too cognizant of the fallibilities of his own thinking. And so he kept his thinking to himself. Unlike Lance, he was wary of being seen as a purveyor of false hope. He was sceptical, analytical, levelheaded but not deluded in everything from his electoral predictions to his video game strategising. Hopefully that would help him here.

"So, uh, were those deaths the ones you were talking about?"

Panya - one of his odder friendships, certainly - and Yaz - his fellow conduit for short jokes - were the names that stuck to him the most. He knew Lance had different priorities. Had recoiled slightly more at different names to him. That was no surprise. They were different people. He did not linger on it. Did not mourn. Not yet. He allowed himself to fall back slightly in his pace, to wipe his snivelling nose clean and stifle a few sobs, but he couldn't break down.

Not yet.

There'd be plenty of time for that later.

It was the names he'd heard. He hadn't even heard the order properly, of who killed who, well at first. Had taken some contextual recollection, some requests for repetition from Lance, to get that in order.

Then they saw Jasmine.

Chuck waved, and smiled, as friendily as possible considering the circumstances. 'Basic Manners' hadn't been named in the announcements yet.
SOTF-TV V2:
GH4: Yagmur Tekindor

THE PROGRAM:
Alexander Adam Tartaglia

SECOND CHANCES:
Alex Tartaglia V2
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The Yugetnam War
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best officer on the force
[ *  *  *  * ]
She heard the people walking up to where she was standing. She cocked her head behind her, tried to see who they were. Lance Adams. Chuck… something. They were people. Not necessarily ones she really knew, not necessarily ones she talked to a lot - although she’d talked to Lance about homework, at some point, she remembered that - but people she knew about, to an extent. Lance was dating Kasumi, Chuck generally hung out with the nerdy people. Neither had been people mentioned on the announcements. It wasn’t very useful information - honestly, it wasn’t anything good either, it wasn’t anything she would put in her gossip dossier - but it told her enough. They were friendly. Non-threatening.

Competition.

Victims.


She shook her head. Stepped forward. They were friends. Potential allies, if Paris was still alive.

She could still get people on her side.

She could still get through this part of the game in the optimum way.

All she had to do was make a good first impression. Make the two like her. Make them think of her as some poor sweet innocent victim who was attacked by the evil Maxwell Lombardi and only got out by the skin of her teeth. Make them pity, disregard, care about her.

But do you really wanna do that, though?

Do you really just wanna be that person who everyone just pities?


Didn’t matter.

She needed this.

“Hey,” she said. Paused as she looked at them. Scratched her head, slightly.

“You, um, doing okay, Lance?”
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TwoThirty
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"Yeah. Kinda."

Lance was okay, yeah. He was not dead, which was pretty okay.

"What about you? What happened to your face?"
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General Goose
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Oh, okay. Ask how Lance is feeling. Make sure he's doing okay.

What was he? Burnt gumbo? Totally getting ignored here.

Chuck had a nice one-liner in the tank for the 'how are you' question? Would have made a brilliant icebreaker. Endeared him to those around him. Ensured some small kind of comedic legacy. But nope, Jasmine asked how Lance was feeling and didn't even check on him.

Plus, a chance to vent his feelings, to bond with someone over the early ordeals, would have been very cathartic. But nope. Opportunity denied. And he forgot that one-liner as quickly as he'd made it. Tragic, really.

But then Lance asked a good question.

"Oh, yeah. Ouch. You okay?"
SOTF-TV V2:
GH4: Yagmur Tekindor

THE PROGRAM:
Alexander Adam Tartaglia

SECOND CHANCES:
Alex Tartaglia V2
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The Yugetnam War
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And there it was.

The concern. The worry. The idea that Jasmine was just an innocent little girl who needed help and protection from the two men in front of her. The idea that Jasmine was just a victim who couldn’t even last two days on this island without the help of somebody else. It was… bitter. Aggrivating. Disappointing, in a way. All she had done on this island, all she had achieved during these first two days on here and yet it seemed all the two in front of her wanted to focus on were her failures. Her injuries. The reminder of what she had to sacrifice to achieve what turned out to be nothing back at those cliffs.

Of course, it was... understandable that they wouldn’t know. Good for her that they didn’t know. She could play the victim. Pretend as if she had been the one attacked.

Make them pity you even more than they do now.

Make them think ‘oh wow, look at poor little Jasmine. Man, she really isn’t going to last that long with all those injuries all over her face.’

Make them just feel sorry for you.


She felt a twinge. A spark erupting from her arm as she tried not to clench her fist.

Didn’t matter.

She just needed to do this.

She just needed to make them think of her as that.

“It was… It was Maxwell,” she said, her voice raising in pitch slightly. “He…”

She paused.

“Attacked me. Hit me. I got away, but…”

Another pause.
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TwoThirty
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"Aw. Sorry."

Maxwell Lombardi was an asshat. A wanker. Lance knew that from the first time he had interacted with that arrogant rich kid. But who would've thought he was so viscious, too?

"Maxwell is a dick."

A plain statement. A fact. No one of the three of them would disagree.

"But don't worry. Chuck and me are not hostile at all. The announcements stated who killed and who didn't and we did not kill or fight anyone."

Another fact.
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General Goose
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They weren't on the announcements, so weren't a threat. That was a slightly...regimented way of putting it. Too inflexible a way of assessing good intent. Too formulaic for Chuck's tastes. Plus probably invited too many further questions, or had too many logical gaps, to really endure any scrutiny.

Chuck wouldn't take that as perfect proof of good nature. Why should Jasmine?

"Plus Lance here's working on a plan! But he can only tell it to you if you take your top off."

Chuck knew that wouldn't help.

But fuck it, if he was gonna die, might as well have fun.
SOTF-TV V2:
GH4: Yagmur Tekindor

THE PROGRAM:
Alexander Adam Tartaglia

SECOND CHANCES:
Alex Tartaglia V2
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The Yugetnam War
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best officer on the force
[ *  *  *  * ]
And Lance believed her.

And Lance pitied her.

And there was a slight pang of irritation whisked away as Lance continued to talk, as Lance stated that neither him nor Chuck were threats. Admittedly, Jasmine wasn’t sure if that even meant anything. It wasn’t as if everyone who wanted to win would have killed, it wasn’t as if she herself had been on those announcements, so why would she be able to trust them? In the event that she joined up with them, what was stopping them from just betraying her then?

Well, if they tried to do that you could just, like, take them out and stuff.

Not like they’ve got shit on you, or anything.


Regardless, though, apparently Lance had a plan of sorts? She wasn’t exactly going to go take her shirt off like Chuck apparently wanted her to do but if he was telling the truth…

A pause.

She looked at Lance.

“A plan?”
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TwoThirty
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"He's kidding."

Lance strictly eyed Chuck upon him joking. Then his attention went back to Jasmine.

"Yeah. A plan. A resistance of this game, of sorts. We wouldn't mind more members."

Lance shrugged.

"But we don't mind if you have no interest in this. Every person should always have a choice."
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General Goose
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Hey, if you're gonna hang out with Chuck, price of admission is that he'll make stupid jokes. And so Chuck returned Lance's scolding glare with a seemingly oblivious grin, as if he was completely impervious to whatever truth was hidden beneath it.

And then Lance was on some convoluted spiel about choice. Chuck nodded.

"Unless you're pro-life. In which case, yeah, you kinda wanna put limits on that choice. I mean, I'm personally not, but I used to be, so like, totally cool with that position."

He was amusing himself, and that was the main thing.
SOTF-TV V2:
GH4: Yagmur Tekindor

THE PROGRAM:
Alexander Adam Tartaglia

SECOND CHANCES:
Alex Tartaglia V2
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Laurels
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((Sophie McDowell continued from Viremia))

Sophie continued to walk through the island. She had picked a random direction and kept walking after leaving the quarry. She had no clue if she'd see Kris or anyone else from the class anytime soon, but she kept going. From how long she kept going without hitting water, she figured she was walking more inland. This did mean the terrain was slightly hard to walk through, and her feet were getting sore. She had to stop a few times to get rocks out of her sandals. She also used the time to braid her hair so it was out of her face. She used some bandages from the first aid kit to make a tie, but it was at least out of the way.

As she walked, keeping one hand around the bag strap and the other on the fishing pole, she looked around and wondered what was next for her. The whole island would know she killed Jeanette, but would they be willing to forgive her if they heard her reason? She thought of all the ways they'd disapprove, and all that did was make her think about how Jeanette's sacrifice would mean nothing.

She soon noticed the ground start to split. From looking at the map, it appeared she was by the ravine. She chose a side and kept going. Sophie's eye regularly looked over the side. If she wanted, she could probably keep walking and then suddenly be over the side. Then it would be over just like that. No need to worry about what anyone thought of her. No need to worry about what other people would think if they ran into her and realized who she was. It'd just be a simple walk off the cliff, and she'd be done with the game.

But she didn't really get the chance to think about that, or of anything. Because the next thing she knew, she was approaching a trio standing near a bridge. Sophie stopped in her tracks and stared at the trio. She had to wonder if they knew who she was.
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The Yugetnam War
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A plan. An idea. One of resisting the game. One of fighting against the people who had put them here. Admittedly, Jasmine still wasn’t quite sure what the plan even was - they were still vague about it, she supposed it was so they wouldn’t attract attention - but she had her doubts. She had her misgivings. If she wanted to live, if she wanted to show everyone that she could win this game, then why would she go against the people running it? Why would she badmouth the people who said that they could blow her head off at a moment’s notice? It made no sense. There was no point in doing that. There was no point in attempting rebellion. It was stupid. Unconstructive. Detrimental to her chances.

And think about it, the two people coming up with this awful plan are the two just pitying you right now.

What does that say about them?

What does that say about you?


But there was a benefit to saying yes.

Leaders. Meatshields. People who Jasmine could stand behind.

That sounded appealing.

“I’m, ah, not really sure what this plan actually is,” she said, looking at the two in front of her. “But if it means I don’t have to kill anyone, I’m in.”

She saw the movement as she spoke. The person.

The killer.

“We’d, um, probably need more people though, so, um...”

Honestly, she had to try and resist her face breaking into a grin.

“I dunno,” she said, before calling out to the person behind Lance and Chuck. “Would you like to join up with us, Sophie?”
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TwoThirty
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"The plan does not involve killing anyone. But it's dangerous. Maybe it succeeds, maybe it doesn't. Who knows?"

Maybe they actually aren't in the real SOTF, but were abducted by copycat terrorists who were not as prepared and organised like the fuckos who did it years ago.

Then Jasmine wanted to invite Sophie to the party. Wait what? Lance quickly turned around and saw the person.

"Jasmine. Have you even heard the announcements?"

Lance pulled out the Hunga Munga from his bag. Just in case.

"Sophie."

As this name came through his lips, his heart beat faster.
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