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 Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2009 5:38 am
(TEAMS: 1. Benson + Grayson 2. Melody + Azzo 3. Kimmie + Cameron) You wake up in what looks to be one of the teacher's houses on the Barren Pines campus -- but this one has a little difference. The windows are all barred. The stairwells are blocked. The doors have been ripped off their hinges, and it basically looks as though somebody has gone through it with a weedwhacker. There's a collar around your neck -- that definitely wasn't there before. You come to handcuffed to your partner. There are two guns in front of you, one marked with your name -- the other marked with your partner's. There is a handsaw strapped to your thigh. A crackle in the room denotes a speaker system: "Hello, hello!" Crackle. "Welcome to a psychological experiment -- well, let's not patronize you, shall we? This is a game of kill or be killed, students. You win if you're left standing at the end." Crackle. "This is a classic game of aim -- ever fired a gun before? Yes? No? You're about to -- well, if you want to live. "Only one pair can make it out of here alive. This isn't a big floor, so I hope this doesn't last too long." Crackle. "Shoot the others, and you'll live. It doesn't matter if you all get together and have a hug and decide you won't play the game -- it just means every single one of you will die. Here's a hint to start playing: those collars around your neck deliver a fatal needle dose to the base of your skull -- a nice big one." Crackle. "Every ten minutes, we'll be dosing one of you up -- play quickly! "You may have noticed you're chained to your partner. Yes, this impedes shooting." Chuckle. "If you want to improve your chances, you could blow them now and saw their wrist free -- let's just say that if you're carting around a dead partner, you're going to get shot pretty soon." Crackle. "You can take cover if you like -- but there's that ten minute break. "Good luck, kids." (ADMIN NOTE: Rolling system: 1 100 sided dice. YOU MAY MOVE THROUGH A ROOM ONE AT A TIME If you are attached to a living partner, any roll under 60 will hit one of you. You must write up what you're aiming at. If you roll under 5, it is a headshot and an instant kill. If you are attached to a dead partner, any roll under 90 will hit you. If you are not attached, any roll under 40 will kill you. Taking cover requires one post. If you are under cover, any roll under 80 will hit you. You may only take two hits before you die. Each couple has a hacksaw which they can use to hack off their partner's arm. Hacking off an arm takes one post. We're pretending you have that kind of one-armed strength, okay? You have 10 loaded bullets and are armed with extra ammo. It takes one post to reload. A person will be picked randomly every 10 posts to explode.  1, 2, 3 show where the couples start.)
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Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2009 12:35 pm
Melody woke slowly, having been having pleasant dreams instead of more terrifying dreams. Which was good because she didn't think she could handle another dream about eating people. Though as she realized she was no longer in a room she knew, the ganguro girl wondered if perhaps she was still dreaming. Worse yet she was aware of limited arm movement.
A quick look to her side, and down, found Azzo handcuffed to her. And there was an odd collar around her neck. The situation screamed wrong and she found herself wanting to panic. Especially when another quick look found guns and hacksaws in too close of a proximity to her. Her breathing quickened and she shook her head. No, no no nonononono. This screamed classic horror movie and that meant deaths. Icky violent deaths. She struggled to keep anything in her stomach down.
When the voice came over the speaker system she glanced up, distracted from her upset stomach. Psychological experiment? She didn't like the sound of that, really she didn't... And it only got worse as the voice continued to speak. Kill? She had to kill?!
She felt so ill by the end of it, not even sure how to process any of what was said. Too much to handle, too much to think of and with no idea of who else had fallen victim to this sick game. Swallowing harshly she moved to try and wake Azzo. They needed to try and get out of this situation. Preferably will out deaths.
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Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2009 12:53 pm
Azzo's eyes fluttered but shut suddenly again. "...ugh" He heard the voice, "Yeah we know it's the same as the last damned time." He grumped as he set up suddenly realizing who he was handcuffed to.
"Holy... er... HI MEL." He felt something on his neck and his free hand went to feel what it was... a collar. "Har... someone's trying to be funny... but I'd like to remind them I'm not their b***h."
He stared at the speaker before looking back to Mel, he saw it looked as if she was going to be sick again. He sighed before getting her attention, "Mel look, I don't like this anymore than you do. We have very few choices here. Either way, if we make the wrong one we'll die."
He looked around, "It was like the last time with...." He started coughing. Damn the school. He patted his wrist though, 'If we manage to take off the collar and not get shot... they can kill us other ways." He managed to choke out before sitting back and taking a break.
He looked at her seriously before sighing, "Look, if we live. I will go after that creep." He picked up one of the guns to see if they were real. And the extra Ammo clip. Looking at Mel he sighed as he handed the gun with her name to it. "You don't have to shoot it unless you feel like you need to."
He sighed as he looked at the saw trying to figure out where the hell they were going to put that thing, he finally hung it in a belt loop. He was after all still wearing his school uniform.
However before he made them get up he made a slightly uncharacteristic move of the 'normal Azzo' and kissed her. "See you on the other side huh?" He grinned, half expecting not to live through this.
"Come on lets get closer to the door. See what we have to deal with." He said as he helped her up and moved closer to the door. He figured she'd end up reluctant so it'd just be easier to guide her along.
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Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2009 5:03 pm
It seemed that no matter the situation, it took a while for Grayson to wake up. Even when he was shoved against a wall, shoulders hunched up in an awkward position, legs splayed in front of him, he would have been much more content to simply remain asleep than attempt otherwise. However, there was a voice - and somehow, only a voice could ever wake him up before he wanted to - and he frowned, turning his head to the side to avoid it.
He didn't want to be awake yet. At all.
The voice didn't stop, however, and he yawned, lifting his hand to rub at his eyes. Or, well, he tried to, but his arm was suddenly much heavier than it had ever been before, giving him even more pause. What?
Vaguely aware that he should be paying attention to what was being said, Gray gazed sightlessly at the ceiling, managing to catch the last bit of the speech - something about sawing an arm off? Or something? - and cocked his head. Had he fallen asleep somewhere with a television? Halloween was over, but that didn't mean they would stop playing horror movies.
He scratched his head, yawning once more, and glanced around. When he saw Benny, he blinked, dropping his hand at his side with a none-too-delicate thump. What was he doing there, wherever there was? And was he chained to him?
"Hey, Benny." Concern in his voice and face, Gray leaned over, placing his unrestrained hand on the other boy's knee. "Are you okay?"
It would have amused him to notice that he was waking up for the second time to the sight of Benson Beldon in as many days if he thought about it. As it stood, he had no idea where he was, and he was a little anxious to know why he and Benny were literally shackled to one another.
He'd failed to notice the gun and the saw.
But that was Grayson for you.
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Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2009 9:57 pm
Benson Beldon had not failed to notice the hacksaw or the gun. But Benny took a while to put two and two together -- Grayson heard him cheerfully, doubtfully saying, "This is a joke, right?" as the loudspeaker went. Pause. "Seriously, this is funny ha-ha -- who did it? Did Cam do it? I can totally see Cam helping pull this off." The loudspeaker crackled -- "This is funny, guys, but seriously..."
If it hadn't been for the deaths, he never would have taken it seriously at all.
Benny didn't take things seriously. Bad things never happened to Benny. But then they took Nacho Araya (who'd always loved that nickname, definitely!) and Abeline Froust away in body bags, and they'd had the memorial in assembly where they'd been told how sad it was, and then they were planning the memorial for the three Science Club girls who'd died in that -- bacterial meningitis -- accident? Or something?
Barren Pines had changed.
Benny struggled with his collar a little, then stopped; picked up the gun, stared at it, then stopped. Looked at the hacksaw. Looked at his hands, joined together with Gray's. Looked at Gray's hand on his knee.
Then he wrapped his free arm around the violet-eyed boy and held him; held him, bemused and alarmed.
"Sweetheart," he said, "Don't panic, but I think we've been kidnapped by terrorists."
Benny Beldon did not negotiate with terrorists.
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 12:31 pm
Kimmie had gone to bed late that night - she'd been staying up playing video games on her games console, desperate to try and beat the final boss. But she'd failed. When she had fallen asleep it had been into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, but waking up in a strange house with saws and guns soon disrupted that. Opening her eyes groggily at first to be met by a gun, her name clearly scrawled on the side, caused her to wake up a little quicker than she usually did. And when shooting up, she felt a very heavy something on her arm, it didn't take her long to realize Cameron was handcuffed to her.
What. The. <******** was worse than that horrible zombie man. Worse than that horrible dream. Because with the zombie man, she'd just gained a few bruises on her neck. With the dream, that was all it had been - a horrible dream. Realistic, yes, but a dream none-the-less. But after pincing herself a few times, it quickly became clear that this wasn't a nightmare. No, this was real.
A voice crackled through a hidden speaker, and Kimmie attempted to stand, only to be dragged down by Cameron again. Paniked slightly, she gave him a gently nudge with her foot, followed by a second, not-so-gentle nudge, "Cameron! ...Bleaker, wake up already!" she snapped, before it dropped to more of a scared whine as she listened. Shoot? Kill!? But...she didn't want to kill anyone. Experiements were with lab rats or computers, not flippin' HUMANS. Making a hasty grab for the gun, she eyed the hacksaw for only seconds before looking away, making a wretching sound. This was sick. SICK.
Good luck? The voice was wishing them luck!? Why didn't it just take them back to their beds and not make them KILL EACH OTHER!? Realizing she was paniking, Kimmie attempted to calm herself down, taking deep breaths. It wasn't working too well, though.
"Cameron...what should we do!?"
At the moment she really didn't care that she should be hitting him for taking advantage of her.
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2009 12:03 am
Terrorists? Grayson's brow creased, confusion and the first hints of anxiety coming into his expression, and he shifted against Benson. While the entire situation seemed very unreal to him, he couldn't help but feel alarm at the tone his - friend? boyfriend? prom date - was using.
Clearly, Benny thought this was serious.
When his eyes fell on the gun before him, Grayson leaned back, breath hissing out in a sudden, startled way. Because he was there, and because his arm was already around him, Gray scooted closer to Benny, mind beginning to whirl with the possibilities.
They were alone, as far as he could tell, in what looked like a ravaged apartment. They were shackled, and they each had a gun, and what looked like some sort of saw. Grayson had never fired a gun in his life, never even played those first-person shooter games that his brother was fond of. He didn't like violence, particularly, in any form. The horribly irony of the situation actually made him smile a little, but it was fleeting and rather sick looking.
"Terrorists? You think so?" He swallowed, finally tearing his eyes away from the gun to look at his partner. "Isn't that..."
Unreal? Ridiculous? Impossible?
"What makes you think that?" He curled his hands into fists, noticing for the first time that his palms were damp. He was really, actually getting scared. It was a bit alarming, considering he was the boy who played with fire, but -
Eyes widening, he managed, "I saw something. I thought I didn't, but I did. Before?"
He fell into silence once more, musing. The corpse in the bushes. Had it been real after all?
Terrorists? Really? "Okay, look," said his -- boyfriend? Prom date? Terrorist kidnap partner? -- said, moving back so that now his hands were merely on Grayson's shoulders. His green eyes were a little bit wild. "You may not have guessed this about me, but I'm the kind of guy who reads the news every morning." The sports section. But you tended to absorb some of the other headlines. "I swear to God that terrorists have infiltrated this school, okay -- I wouldn't have thought so, but I've been hearing some people... talk."
That was unusual for Benny also: Benny was thick as a brick when it came to anything outside the Beldon range (tennis, hair care products, Grayson). But he was terrified. He looked literally terrified. This was serious; the gun was serious, and he kept worrying at the collar around his neck --
"Please be aware that attempts to take your collar off will cause them to... go off."
Crackle. They could hear movement -- there were people waking up in the other rooms. Benny continued: "This is real. Oh my God, this is like... a miniature 9/11." (Benson Beldon: also effortlessly offensive.) Benny's fear fed Grayson's own, and though he would have never considered such a situation could exist outside the realm of movies, he was beginning to believe. The urge to let fear overwhelm him was strong, but he fought it, forcing himself to ignore everything but the feeling of his own breathing.
In, and out. Do not panic. In, and out.
When the voice crackled over the speaker he jumped; he couldn't help it. Collars? Hand flying to his throat, he realized for the first time that there was something there. In the midst of everything else, he'd subconsciously noted that he had an accessory on, but he hadn't even thought that it wasn't of his own intention. Grayson sometimes wore chokers, and he'd worn stranger things for a costume.
But he hadn't put this on.
He drew his hand back from his throat, almost afraid to touch it. He didn't want to set the thing off. Vaguely, he could remember something from when he was waking - a lethal dose of.. something? - if the collar was activated. s**t.
This was real, wasn't it?
What he he done? What had he ever done to deserve to be placed in some torture chamber, armed with weapons he had no idea nor desire to use, and told that he must fight to survive?
His heart hammered in his chest, and he reminded himself to just breathe. Panicking wasn't going to do anyone any good.
Panicking wasn't going to help Benny. He zeroed in on that thought, somehow calmer when he focused his energy on the other boy. Though afraid, if he could think of a way to protect Benson - was there a way? - he would be all right. Even if something terrible happened, even if he -
"Benson." It was unusual for Gray to use his first name, anyone's first name, if a nickname was available. He struggled to his feet, made awkward by the weight around his leg, and the chain on one arm, but managed, helping Benny up as well. His eyes were calm, a betrayal of everything he felt inside, when he braced his hands against Benny's shoulders.
"Whatever's going on, someone is watching us. Someone wants us to die." His mouth went a little dry at the thought, and he had to steady himself before he could speak again. "I don't want to die, and I don't want you to die. We need to be calm, and try to think of a way to... beat this."
If there was a way. If "beating this" could mean anything but death.
If this was some kind of elaborate prank, when Grayson was through with therapy, he was going to bodily harm whomever had arranged it. "You heard them." Benny was a much whiter shade of Benny now, even though Gray had managed to stand him up -- ashen underneath his usual tan skin, and with obvious drymouth. He kept on swallowing. "There's no way to beat this. Unless we... shoot everyone else, oh my God. I've never even used a gun. My pop locked all the cabinets when I was a kid, said I was the type to swallow bullets and he wasn't explaining that to the ER. Oh God." More dry swallowing. And then a pale, wan smile, which came hand in hand with a stubborn: "I'm not going to kill anyone, sweetheart. I am Benny Beldon. I am not a murderer." Where he found strength, he couldn't exactly say. The paler Benny became, the firmer Grayson's resolve to be strong enough for both of them became. The horror of the situation was very real, but he was able to set it aside, even feel a little rush at the thought of facing the unknown.
It was different, of course, from the dangerous things he usually did. There was every possibility that he could die. Fleetingly, the knowledge of that passed into his eyes, squeezed his heart. If he died...
God, what would his parents think? Tristan?
It hurt to imagine the crushing grief that would consume his family, made his throat tight and his eyes burn with the thought of it. His parents would band together fiercely, draw strength and grief from one another in equal measures. They would try to reach Tristan, but he would be angry.
Oh, God, Tristan would be angry. He wouldn't be able to deal with the death of anyone he cared for. He had barely been able to handle Grayson going to a boarding school.
If he died, his family would never be the same.
Unbidden, tears slipped down his cheeks, Grayson not entirely aware that he'd begun to cry. "I know you aren't, Benny. Neither am I."
His gaze became unfocused, and he shook his head slightly, trying to ignore the sounds of movement from the rest of the house. "I want to live, but I don't want to live at the cost of someone else's life."
So what did that leave him?
What choice did that really leave him?
Gaze sliding to the gun at the floor, his stomach sank.
He had a choice, didn't he? "Hey. Shh. Shh." Benny had pulled him into his one-armed embrace again, stroking his hair. Apparently their need to both be the strong one was warring -- he just said, "shh," though Grayson could tell that his shoulders were shaking. Benny had a family too. Benny hadn't noticed where his gaze had dropped to either, had just seen the wetness on his cheeks. "God, this is terrible," he said redundantly again. And, obviously trying to cheer him up any: "I really was looking forward to prom." There were other people moving. Other people -- other schoolkids -- in the house. Who was it? It could have been anyone. His own mind conjured up Serenade, or Kimmie or someone. Anyone. Even Andeon or Sue gave him a pit in his stomach. "Maybe we should try to bust the windows?" But Benny didn't sound as though his heart was in it. It was faux cheer. Being comforted was both a balm and a fresh wound. How did you ease someone's fear when there was nothing you could legitimately do to take it away? When the entire world had been turned over on itself and you could barely catch your breath, much less remember which was up and which was down?
He squeezed Benny briefly, tightly, and laughed at the comment about prom. It wasn't mirthful, but a kind of halting, shuddering laugh that was doing its best to be sincere. Prom. That was the least of his worries, in light of everything. Had he really thought it would be so much trouble to dress up, go out and dance? Shopping, so mundane and bothersome to him before... what he wouldn't give to be irritated by the prospect of breaking his leisure time to drag himself to the mall.
How ridiculous his life seemed, when it was about to end. Had everything been such a bother? What had he even done with his life? He was failing his classes, and he was dancing on a stage for handfuls of change. When he graduated, he didn't even want to go to college. He'd planned on running off, joining the circus, a group of dancers, something.
Something, something. Hell, he'd never even made solid plans.
And yet... and yet he wanted to live, so fiercely.
"I'm still really glad you asked me." His voice, though still a little shaky, had gained confidence, if only just enough to keep him from a sob. "And hey, you know, all things considered..."
He reached up, brushed Benny's bangs aside with a small smile. "All things considered, the company's not so bad, right?"
He ignored the windows comment. If they could activate the collars at any time for attempted removal, they could activate the collars for trying to bust out of the room. It seemed like, unless he was willing to kill someone else, he was going to die.
Grayson Graves wasn't willing to kill. He also wasn't willing to die by anyone else's terms.
Squeezing Benny's hand, expression almost painfully calm, he bent at the waist, reaching for the gun on the ground. It was heavy in his hand, impossibly so, and it felt wrong. He shivered, the gravity of the situation making his skin feel like ice, but he still felt it was the right move.
He closed his eyes, expelled a soft breath. "I think... I think, you know, I want to always be someone my family could be proud of." The boy in front of him still looked as though he had been hit in the face, very hard. Was still wild around the eyes. "I thought I always was someone my family was proud of," he said. "I thought -- I was always good at being someone they were proud of." Conceited, maybe, but conceited was Benny all over. "So that's why I'm not going to shoot anybody," he said. "Because that's not me. That's not me, sweetheart." He kept repeating it, a little aimlessly; "That's not me. Not me. At all." He was looking even more wild-eyedly at the gun, then Grayson, then at the gun and then Grayson again, before picking up his own. When he spoke again, he was subdued: "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this is happening." It was a little awkward, with one set of hands chained together and the other set gripping weapons, but Gray managed to pat Benny's arm in a somewhat reassuring manner. He was reaching the point where he could barely feel his own heart beating in his chest; before, it had been thundering, but now, it seemed like everything was quieter. Calmer.
Slowing down, really.
He was still smiling, but it hurt a little. His face was straining to hold the expression, and his heart ached. Not just for him - there was pain, and regret, and a terrible swell of anger inside of him for his own predicament - but also for Benny. For whoever else was in here.
For those who had already died, the ones he'd thought had passed of sickness. It had been something like this; he knew it as soundly as he knew his own name. Only, he knew it too late, and there was nothing he could do.
He wasn't religious, so he couldn't even pray.
"Your family is proud of you." The tears were falling again, tracking an uneven pattern down his face, over his lips. He could taste salt, and he moistened his lips, struggling to keep his breathing even. "My family is proud of me. If there's one thing I'm glad for, it's that they're never going to have to know exactly how this happened."
The school would just say it was bacterial meningitis, right? They'd be sad, but they'd be able to cope. Because there was nothing anyone could have done. It was contagious. It was swift and it was deadly.
Oh, God, at least they'd never have to know the truth.
He looked away from Benny only long enough to check the safety - was that the safety? - before looking back. Violet eyes caught green ones, and even through the blur, he marveled at how striking they were.
Leveling the gun at the side of his head, he blinked rapidly, attempting to clear his vision. "I'm sorry, Benny. I'm sorry too. I wish you didn't have to be here."
His chest caught, and he found it hard to breathe for a moment. "I wish you didn't have to know, even for a minute, how the hell Grayson Graves was going to die. But I'm glad you knew me."
He smiled, through the tears, and his shoulders shook. The only reason the gun was even still raised was because he was digging it into the side of his head, afraid that if he faltered for even a moment, he'd drop the damn thing and wouldn't be able to pull the trigger. It was important that he pulled the trigger. They were both using their free hands now -- as though ashamed that Grayson had chosen the less cowardly option first, Benny had leant down to raise his gun in equal salute. His hand was shaking terribly as he pressed it to his temple; they were mirroring each other now. The hands that were chained together, he reached forwards with his fingers to wrap around Gray's. "I'm glad I knew you too," he said, sincerely, and he reached forward and very gently brushed his mouth against Grayson's -- feather-light, barely there. His hand was still shaking terribly. Grayson knew that Benny was terrified. He was leaning his forehead against the other boy's, as brief as the kiss, and then he said: "I don't want to watch you die. I don't want you to watch me die, sweetheart, baby, okay? This is a pretty messy way to die, I know, I watched like -- most of CSI: Miami? So. Three, two, one and we go?" Fingers tangled with Benny's, Grayson nodded mutely, not quite trusting himself to speak. The only parts of his body that were warm had been touched by the other boy; a final kiss, a final brush of skin against skin. Fleetingly, he remembered his childhood, when he'd been sick with a fever, tossing and turning in bed.
His father had come in, gently pushed his bangs away from his forehead. He'd leaned down, touching his cool forehead to his son's fevered one, then lightly kissed the area afterwards. Gray had been able to sleep peacefully that night, and when he'd woken, the fever had broken.
It wasn't sleep, and he wouldn't wake again. But he felt oddly comforted, surreally at peace with the world, after the simple gesture.
He tightened his grip on Benny's hand, opened trembling lips. "Three."
A flash of his parents, arm in arm, smiling.
"Two."
His brother, a cocky grin on his face, limbs sprawled languidly over the couch.
And then, breath coming shorter and faster, he closed his eyes.
"One." Benny had been right. It was messy. Neither heard as the speaker crackled: "Mr. Graves and Mr. Benson are out of the experiment. Please continue." (ADMIN NOTE: Grayson Graves and Benson Beldon have died. Selfinflicted point blank does not require a dice roll. Death reaction already posted.)
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2009 9:05 pm
Her mind had been going a mile-a-freaking minute trying to figure out what she was going to do, what they were going to do, to get out of this situation. And she could only hope it would be with out deaths. She'd barely understood what her handcuffed-partner had said, something about going after the cause of all of this, because of her racing thoughts.
Of course everything in the room stopped for a moment, even her heart she swore, when he kissed her. Azzo kissed her... Her second kiss ever in her life! If you could count the drunken kiss from Andeon in the elevator a kiss.
Cheeks bright with color, she seemed to snap out of the momentary funk to smile up at him and grab her gun. She hated the feeling of it in her hand, but better to have it even if she didn't use it. With his help she stood and looked around, her head feeling clearer then before. He'd helped her through her nightmare and Ignacio's death and he'd help her through this. She could do this with him at her side.
And it was then that she heard gunshots from the room next to them. Her stomach fell and she wanted to be ill but fought down the feeling. They'd get no where if she'd vomit every time a gun was fired. But still her heart raced and she shoved past Azzo as best she could (they were handcuffed after all) and moved for the room where the shots had come from. She paid no mind to the blocked off staircase (did it go up or down she'd wonder later if she survived) and glanced around to try and get her bearings. Which door should they go through?
It wasn't like she could go too fast anyway, praying this wouldn't take so long that some one would die via collars, since she was half-assed dragging Azzo along with her. Picking a door she went through it, praying that the shots had not been lethal.
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2009 9:20 pm
Azzo stopped her by grabbing onto one of the door frames and holding it for dear life. He considered screaming at her, however instead he yanked her back. "Mel, what the hell are you doing?" He asked in a low voice.
His heart had sunk when he heard who was killed crackle over the speaker. He pulled her closer and looked at her, it was perhaps the most stupidest thing ever to do but he placed his gun, where he prayed it wouldn't go off. Oh how I wish I had a gun belt now... and he took hers from her. They were still within easy reach and could be removed effortlessly if need be.
He looked her in the eyes, and shook his head, "You can't go there. I can't let you see that Mel."
He then looked at her hair noticing the hair pin and glanced down to the handcuffs. Wondering how awkward they were going to make his next move...
However without a second thought, figuring that the stupid voice would kill them for him unlocking the cuffs. He smiled and whispered, "Can I have this dance?"
Of all the irrational things to do, it was the only thing he could think of. He had to distract her, and find the other two. Maybe they could figure out something... but what if they shot first and asked questions later?
He swallowed and shook his head pulling her closer he hummed for a second before breaking into the only song he could think of.
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)
He would dance her around the house a million times avoiding where the gun shots would be if he could. However he would avoid where Gray and Benson had been. Biding their time until the collars went off. He wanted to try to remove those as well. But he couldn't, he didn't have the heart... what if they went off when he tried his idea... he couldn't live with that.
He danced them right into the opposite side of the house.... The side with Kimmie and Cam....
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Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2009 7:56 am
Gunshots.
That had been a gunshot. She could've sworn she'd heard two, one just a fraction after the other. Kimmie's face paled, the female beginning to shake uncontrollably, dropping the gun in the process with a large, distinctly wooden THUD! She gave a small yelp as she did so, Kimmie herself thinking another gunshot had gone off, before realizing no, it was her. Had someone shot someone else? What had happened!? There'd only been two shots, quite distinct - no massive gun battles or anything. Had that been all it had taken? Two quick shots and you were dead, forever? Kimmie didn't want to die.
Unable to move due to Cameron's unco-operative nature, it wasn't long until she heard footsteps - light ones, as if the person was tip-toeing, or perhaps dancing. But why would anyone be dancing? They'd be tip-toeing, in the hopes Kimmie wouldn't see them and they could come around and shoot her... An involuntary sob broke out of the terrified girl's mouth, quickly stifled by a hand as she hurriedly reached for her gun, scrambling a little, stumbling forwards but eventually snatching it from the ground, standing up again and hurriedly trying to fiddle with it. She'd never used a gun, never fired one! Wasn't there some safety catch or something? All she knew was from watching crime dramas, and she was pretty sure that they weren't all that accurate.
She didn't want to hurt anyone. Didn't want to kill. But if they just came through and shot her, she wouldn't stand a chance! Maybe she should let them know she was here, that she'd shoot them if they came in!? Choking back another frightened sob, Kimmie raised the gun in the direction of the door, calling out as she did so, "D-Don't come in! I-I-I'll s-shoot!"
Yeah, 'cause that sounded like the most convincing threat ever. Nice one, Kimmie. Aware of the fact, Kimmie clamped her eyes shut as she squeezed the trigger, only aiming at the wall as a loud 'BANG' resonated through the room, the girl stumbling back a few paces with the force used.
((Wasn't aiming at any person, so assumed a roll wasn't necessary. Let me know if its otherwise <33))
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Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2009 8:36 am
Cameron came to slowly, blinking heavily. What... the... "Kimmie?" She was the first thing he blurrily recognized. Cuffed together? Was this some sort of kinky...
That was when he saw the guns. The drugs must have hit him harder than the others, because he was still fuzzy headed. He didn't fully snap out of it until Kimmie fired at nothing. that was enough to make anyone sit up and take notice. There was a vague and inappropriate thought in the back of his mind that hoped she wasn't mad at him for kissing her and stuff... because then he'd really be screwed.
"What the hell is happening here?" Good one, Cam. Get with the program. He'd faintly heard the words over the loudspeaker and now they solidified in his mind to make some sense. Guns. Shooting. Needle doses. Death. ******** ******** ******** ********..." Cameron said in a low voice as he picked up his gun. He held it like a dead fish, as if he couldn't stand the touch of it. "Kimmie, you'd better not run out of ammo too early." His mind was starting to work now. He watched horror movies. He kind of knew how these things worked. And he definitely knew they never ended well. Especially not for the token black guy.
((OMG, I'm so sorry you guys. I've been out with the h1n1 flu crap and didn't realize I was in this thread. Please don't hate me for keeping everyone waiting, I'm real sorry!))
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candy lamb generated a random number between
1 and 4 ...
4!
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2009 12:46 am
(Melody - 1
Azzo - 2
Kimmie - 3
Cameron - 4
Number rolled has their collar inject poison into their system. Subject will take a minute or so to die.)
"I'm afraid you're running a little slowly, children," crackled the loudspeaker. "Time to take one of you out -- and then there were three."
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2009 11:35 am
There was a sting, quick and irritating, sort of like a bee. Cameron's hand smacked at the back of his neck almost without thinking, the sort of action you take to swat a nasty mosquito. It met the cold, cruel collar instead.
Cam frowned. Reality wasn't setting in quite yet. And then it hit him with a bang, but it was too late to do anything about it.
"Kimmie?" Cam's eyes were wide with fear. "Kimmie. I'm going to..." Gross white foam laced with blood started edging out of the corners of his mouth, like a rabid dog. s**t. "They got me. The ******** bastards killed me."
It was kind of nice that the drugs took away all the pain. And the fear was starting to seem distant too. So was his body. He felt like he was floating away... Cameron gave a hysterical little giggle. Why did this all seem so funny? It shouldn't be funny. He was dying. He couldn't help it, he giggled again.
"Hey, Kimmie." Cameron chuckled, coughing up a little more of the offensive white foam, "I hope you're a virgin." He coughed again, and then went limp abruptly, falling to the floor with a dull thud and pulling his surviving partner down with him.
Poor Kimmie... this was not a good week for her. Still, there was that hacksaw over in the corner. And Cameron's gun. He wouldn't need it any more. Maybe things could get better.
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2009 7:11 pm
At the sound of a gunshot so near by Melody had let out a squeak of surprised fear she clung herself close to Azzo's body, ending their impromtu dance around the house. Logic said she should have hid behind him but fear had shoved logic into a small little box and she clung to him instead. She had been ever so grateful to Azzo for the dance, his words reminding her that it had been Benny and Grayson who had died. Her Grayson, one of her first friends at this school.
A male voice on the other side interrupted her train of thought. A painful reminder that there was another set of people trapped in all of this. She wanted to think that maybe they had shot her friend and his prom date but knew better. Or wanted to know better. No that was how it was, they couldn't have killed them simply because she knew other students could not, would not, purposely do such a thing. Innocent idealism at it's finest.
And then she was aware of their ten minutes ending, the first death to happen by the collars and it had been Cameron. Tears stung her eyes as she buried her face against her companion's chest, shoulders quivering. Another one had died, another one killed by this insane school. It had to be the school, who else could it be? At his insane giggle from the next room (could they be seen from the door frame?) the ganguro girl found herself hiding behind the dark haired male as she continued to weep for the loss of another student. (Would every one who died here be claimed to be killed by that stupid disease they said had been Ignacio's death?)
She hid behind Azzo because if she didn't she'd move to Cameron's body and try to make sure he was alive, to tell him to stop playing games. She didn't know him that well but it wasn't fair for life to be lost in such a way. Hands clinging to Azzo's sides a whimper left her before she found herself screaming to that stupid box. And it was likely one of the few, if not the first, times that the gentle Melody Klein had raised her voice so loudly.
"WE DON'T DESERVE TO DIE LIKE THIS! WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO TOY WITH PEOPLE'S LIVES LIKE THIS?!"
It was harsh, raspy because her throat hurt from the tears that fell, and filled with the sorrow of losing such precious lives. It just wasn't fair at all.
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LP rolled 1 100-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2009 7:23 pm
Azzo's reaction to the gunshot was a tad less subtle. He pulled his gun pointing towards the girl that'd shot. In defense he wasn't about to let her shoot at Melody, he didn't care if he was shot or not.
It was lucky it'd hit the wall but he wasn't about to let her shoot again without getting a shot off first. He knew how desperation was, but to be shot at... He refused to let it be only the first. As Melody hid behind him he stared at the girl, paying no attention to Cam.
"I hope you feel lucky." He muttered as he pulled the trigger.
Afterwords hearing Mel's words he looked at the gun and then to the girl, then to the box looking at it disgusted with what he was having to do.
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