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 Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 5:32 pm
Bress signed more: No, no, not that. He paused for a moment. Sign. School professor was deaf. Students all learned small sign. Simple sign. Only teacher one year. If Island Long time, you might more learn I, help us leave?
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 5:54 pm
Cecil went "Oh" Even though the words didn't come out, and nodded his head.
My tutor taught me He started to sign, Used to communicate with the family.
He mouthed the words a bit, the doctor signed enough to say that he knows the basics, enough to get the gist of it. Some of the more elaborate signs Cecil made probably got the doctor confused, so he hoped the man could read lips.
Tired of making lip motions, Cecil went into his book again, and wrote down,
You mean you want me to help you escape the island? He gave the book to Bress and stared at him. First he thought he was ignorant, now he thought the guy was crazy.
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 6:22 pm
Bress took the book and started writing feverishly, occasionally looking straight up, still considering the sattelite feed. One might expect chicken scatch writing by such hurried scrawling, but the words came out as perfectly straight print, useful for writing papers. Signing can be quite useful, and would be a boon to me. You can't hear someone signing from under a window sill or around a corner. Hiding one's actions is quite a feat. The first step is hiding your thoughts and words, though. If I signed to you "meet me at 9:30" while adjusting my zipper, even if they witness the exchange, they may not realize what it is. Books can be read. If you're smart, before letting it out of your sight, destroy anything written. Beginning to see?
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 7:06 pm
Well well well, this was quite a Christmas present. He grinned at the fact there could be a way out of this mess. Apparently Bress had a plan.
Quite the schemer, I'm reading. He wrote, handing back the book. He crossed his arms. And began thinking. Well, what did he have to lose? It's not like this island can ******** them up anymore then they already have. Then he thought about what happens if they don't make it, or something went wrong, then what would happen?
Bah. Cecil thought, What else could they do? He waited anxiously for Bress' response.
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 8:28 pm
Find people you trust. A high pain tolerance helps. I wouldn't put torture past them. Teach them basic signing to start, primarily ones that involve "DANGER" "AVOID ME" and similar nature. If you're comprimised, you can't endanger the mission. And chat with a lot of people. If you talk to only two people in a day, its a sure bet they're your contacts. Talk to fifty, you have an army or they have no idea. I'll see if I can scour the mountain for sulfur and the other materials for gunpowder. Rudimentary bombs could help, especially to take out that helipad I saw coming in.
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 8:51 pm
Ceci read what he was writing. And the more he read into this, the more he was skeptical. The guy was expecting him to go out of his way to teach half of the island sign languge, a feat that one voiceless kid cannot do alone. But hey, why not? Someone's giving him a chance for escape, a chance for something. Opportunity is staring him in the face.
Well, I'll try. Cecil reluctantly wrote, I'm not making any promises.
((My last post for the night, seeyaround.))
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 9:34 pm
Then don't make a promise. Bress smiled again as he wrote, but this one filled with determination. Make a New Year's Revolution.
Now to make this a clean break. If they're watching us now we need to throw them off. When I hand this pad to you, I'll start laughing. When you finish reading this, shove me. HARD. I can take it. Then leave.
He passed Cecil the note, starting to chuckle under his breath.
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Posted: Fri Dec 29, 2006 11:09 am
Cecil read this, and kept in a grin. He held the book in his right hand and shut it, making a slight slap between the pages, he tilted his head and gave the doctor a look.
The next thing Bress had coming was a hard left hook in the face.
Cecil signed, Sorry, stress relief. and walked away.
Cecil felt better already, he's been holding back on his anger and frustration on this island for a week now, he finally had an excuse to let it out in a burst of violance. Cecil turned to a new page in his notebook, writing something to say to Charlie. He hoped he didn't hurt Bress too badly, but the guy did say to act it out. When he got to his saxaphone playing companion, he gave the book to him.
Nice guy. Just gotta know him.
He cracked his left knuckle.
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Posted: Fri Dec 29, 2006 8:37 pm
The first thing he felt was pressure, then more pressure. He was stumbling back, his sea-experienced internal gyroscope working his feet as he groped at the loose soil. Only then did he feel the pain, good GOD the pain, and the taste of a little blood from his inner lip. The taste of bittersweet victory. Good. He laughed harder than before. A fighter. That'll be useful.
As he made his way down the winding slopes to his duplex, he kept chuckling. I haven't missed the storm at all. I'm riding it!
The people watching me must pulling their hair out.
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Posted: Fri Dec 29, 2006 9:07 pm
[Charlie]
Charlie had not been paying attention to the two's entire sign-and-book conversation, he had merely leaned against a tree and started to daydream until his mute freind had shown him his notebook. Reading the sentance Cecil had shown him, he nodded. "I guess, but I kinda zoned out for a bit, sorry."
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Posted: Fri Dec 29, 2006 9:20 pm
Cecil leaned on the trunk of the tree he was sitting on earlier. The full moon high in the sky. It had to be midnight, or even a bit after, judging by where it was now. So this was his Christmas present, a chance at going home, it was far from a guarantee, but a chance.
Cecil smiled, and if he could, he would have laughed, there wasn't anything more that he wanted.
He had to be crazy, he didn't know what those doctors were capable of, if they could manipulate people's genes, they can definitely do a heck lot more than that. But hey, what did he have to lose? He's already lost his voice, his home, sooner or later his humanity, and shortly after, his mind. When you weighed the pros and cons, you'd rather take your chances then stay.
Cecil took up his flute again and struck up a song, just any old notes would do. The quick crisp notes seemed like a hummingbird's wings, unwavering and constantly moving. It had a upbeat tone, it's sound raising like wings in a strong breeze, the notes getting higher and higher. It's sound blended into a song full of hope, freedom, and happiness.
-Fin
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