We |Fell| §omewhere {Piscatus Plot}

[Morgana]

Delilah Delomprey

They made a statue of us,
And it put it on a mountain top.

It was waking up that made Delilah want to fall back asleep. That was how it usually worked. You never want to go to sleep if you already are sleeping; you have to wake up first. And if, upon waking, you find yourself in a sewer with a dead man not ten feet from you, you'd want to go back to sleep, too. That, or hope that you were already sleeping so that you could wake up from the nightmare. But this was no nightmare. Delilah was certainly awake. And here was certainly a dead man next to her.

Delilah was supposed to be happy to be at this wedding. It had all been her mother's idea, and Delilah had jumped at the chance to go. She would do anything to get out of this house, where the imminent threat of her father loomed. She would do anything to escape him, even for a short time. A boat had delivered her to the island, along with some other guests. All of them were arriving a day late, but that didn't seem to matter. Delilah had read a book she'd brought with her on the journey, purposely avoiding contact with the other passengers. There were men on that boat, and there were enough people to constitute as a crowd, as far as Delilah was concerned. And that was reason enough to stay away from them all.

They hadn't exactly arrived as planned. The boat had crashed into the cove, and they'd all been lucky to make it to shore. It was lucky they were all from District four, so they knew how to swim- most of them, anyway. Delilah's book and her other luggage had been lost, so she'd had no choice but to join the others as they looked around and tried to figure out what to do. Someone- Delilah wasn't sure who- had found an old man nearby, on the verge of death. He told them he couldn't remember his name, or why he was there. Delilah had avoided him, because he was a man. There was no telling what he could do to her, even half-dead as he was. Then the captain of the boat that had brought them here had discovered a hole, which they'd all jumped into, a little too enthusiastically, it seemed to Delilah. She'd taken up the rear.

The hole had led to a sewer. Delilah was ready to turn back right then and there, because all sorts of horrible things happened in sewers, and there were too many men here, and she didn't feel safe at all. There were two people up ahead, a man and a woman. Just as the group had started heading toward them, the lights had flickered off. There were gasps of surprise, one coming from Delilah herself. Someone brushed up against her. She stiffened, and didn't move. Who was that? A man? What were they doing to her? No, this couldn't be happening. It was dark here, and she couldn't see and someone was going to rape her and no one would care and- The lights turned on. There was a scream from a feminine throat, one besides Delilah's. And then she saw.

The boy was laying on the ground, and his intestines were laying all around him, and all around the girl, too. Delilah had vomited, and she was certain she wasn't the only one. The old man they'd found apparently knew the girl, and trusted her, for some reason. Delilah was certain she'd just killed the boy, and the whispers around her confirmed that she wasn't the only one to think so. But the girl- her name was Silver, they learned -came with them anyway. They'd traveled all day, until someone complained they were tired, and then someone else did, and then they decided to stop.

The sewers weren't the best place to sleep. They weren't very comfortable, and it smelled, but that wasn't the only reason Delilah'd had trouble falling asleep. She felt uneasy around all these people, these people she'd only just met and knew nothing about. There were too many of them, and there were men, as she had noted many times throughout the day. She was just waiting for one of them to come over and start touching her, and she wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. She'd just have to sit there and let them do it, because Delilah didn't know how to fight back. And she was afraid of what they'd do if she tried. And it wasn't only that. She was uneasy around that Silver girl. What if she killed another of them? What if she killed Delilah herself? But somehow, eventually, Delilah had fallen asleep.

And now here they were, in the morning, another man dead. The poor old man, half-dead when they found him, had gone all the way. And it wasn't as if he'd died peacefully. Someone had done this on purpose. The man's mouth was stitched shut. And as if that wasn't bad enough, two of his fingers had been chopped off and stuffed up his nose. He'd suffocated to death, and once again, Delilah was left emptying her stomach. The sound of her retching had woken others, and now they gathered around, everyone looking down at him and probably assuming the same thing. The girl had done this. Silver.

Now tourists come and stare at us,
Blow bubbles with their gum.
Take photographs have fun, have fun.

[charade]

Branden Sykes


It was just going to be one of those days. Branden was certain that things could not get much worse. He was also certain that there was nothing more for his stomach to empty of. Seeing two dead bodies in one day was enough to dishearten even the most stalwart of people. Not to mention all the water. It had been wrong of Branden to think he could conquer his aqua phobia with the threat of the hunger games no longer looming over his head. Danger seemed to much more prevalent right now then it ever had at any of the reapings he had attended.

His parents had convinced him that he needed to relax. The Last reaping he had attended and been qualified for had put a lot of undue stress upon him. As if being afloat wouldn't add more to his already tired psyche. He had spent most of the voyage out to this forsaken rock holed up in his cabin. Like always, being near water had both unsettled him and unnerved him. Luckily, as he had avoided everyone for the time frame of the voyage, he had managed to keep it together. No lashing out at unsuspecting people.

Then the boat had crashed. Branden wasn't exactly sure what had happened as he had been below deck. Not that it mattered. Once that water had started pouring in he had panicked and jumped ship. As he struggled to the shore, thoughts of death struck repeatedly at his mind. The water was his enemy, the water wanted to kill him. It would drag him down the bottom and crush the life out of him. It was a monumental relief when he had washed up on the sand, spluttering and coughing up seawater. It had taken some time for him to collect himself. Once he had steadied himself, Branden had made his way over to the group of huddled passengers. They were gathered around a sickly looking old man. Branden didn't catch much of the conversation, he was more interested in getting as far away from the shore as possible.A short time later, everyone on the beach had moved towards a hole in the ground.


They wound up ankle deep in a dank sewer. It was not the open sea, but it smelled horrific. Why on earth had anyone agreed to come down here? Branden stuck near the middle of the procession, feeling that it was probably the best place to be. It was quiet in the sewer. Someone mentioned that they saw a pair of people up ahead. Branden saw them briefly, before the lights flickered off. A females scream shattered the silence as they came back on. Branden looked through the throng of people to see a horrible scene before him.

A guy was laying on the ground, and his entrails were laying all around him, floating in the murky water; and all around the girl, too. Several people retched , adding yet another odor to the underground. Branden would have emptied the contents of his stomach too, had he not already vacated them after washing up on the beach. The girl in the water was alive. And her name was Silver. It was the general opinion that this girl had slain the boy only moments ago. Branden didn't care. He needed to get back above ground. The smell in the sewers was beginning to make him nauseous. Someone suggested that they sleep down n the sewers, as night had fallen and it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. No one wanted to fall into a hole. Or discover another body. And so, Branden had fallen asleep.


Morning came, and Branden awoke to the sound of someone retching. He rolled over to see a brunette girl voiding her stomach. hastily moving out of the way, he spied what had caused her to hurl. The old man they had found the previous night was dead. And in quite a unnerving way as well. His mouth had been stitched together, and fingers chopped off and shoved into hisnostrils. Once again, the popular opinion was that the Silver girl had murdered him. But how had a murder occurred without anyone waking to the sound of a struggle? But right now, All Branden wanted was to get above ground, back in the sun, and away from this grisly scene. He kept silent, wondering what was going through everyone's heads.

[apocalypse]

℉ґεⅾяї¢к ℬεłℓ ➸ Ðїṧтяḯḉ☂ †εη


sometimes i get the feeling,
she's watching over me.

Fredrick had, sadly, never learned to swim. It didn't seem vital to him, really. He lived in district ten, where grass is his ocean and the cows are the fish. Water seemed only existent when it was from the faucet, or it came from to sky in drops. His parents both agreed that leaving district ten - getting a break from it - was a good idea. In the house, Fredrick was the one who took Olivia's death the hardest. Did is family care? Of course. But Fredrick had the best relationship with her; the oldest kids in a group of six or so. The day she died, it seemed unrealistic.

The ride on the boat to god-knows-where was boring and frightening. Every second, Fredrick would look behind him, making sure that the boat wasn't going to tip over. But, during the milliseconds between the seconds, Fredrick made idle chit-chat with no one, really. When they were almost at the shore, though, things got interesting.

The boat had crashed somehow.

Fredrick started panicking in the ocean's salty water as it rocked him to sleep. It seemed like a good place to die for him, it was relaxing, the waves splashing lightly on him, the salt healing his cuts, and the smell was actually pleasurable to him. He lied on his back, waiting for a darkness to take over him as the waves gently swayed him. Luckily, though, staying on his back just made it easier to float - but in the inside, Fredrick was waiting to die. The bad part was that none of Fredrick's luggage or stuff survived the boat's crash. My book, my drawings. All of Fredrick's stories and art were gone in a matter of seconds, pages drenched by salt-water, becoming so easy to rip that when it touched a rock, it broke.

Somewhere, someone, had found some old guy - tarnished memory, forgot his name and where he was; he also was on the edge of death. Not today! Fredrick thought, sort of like one of his characters from his stories would say. And that was what gave him an idea, the closest he ever came to an epiphany. If my books are destroyed, why don't I make my life a story? Fredrick decided not to give up, he was going to do what he wanted to do. He was going to be an adult writer and illustrator.

When someone had found a hole, Fredrick was glad to jump in it; he wanted not to see that water which had stole his most prized possession. The water underneath him was dirty, disgusting, but at least it didn't steal his journal. As everyone came down the hole, and stepped onto the metal sewer bottom, the lights flickered, turned-off.

The last thing Fredrick saw were a man and a women ahead of the group.

He gasped, as did other people, and stood still. Not knowing if this could be his last second, Fredrick thought of home. He twitched as someone passed by his arm. I'm going to die, I know it. I love you Isana, I love you mom, I love you dad, I love you twins, I love you Olivia, I love you district- the light turned back on. Hearing a scream made Fredrick jump. But, so did the sight that he saw.

There was some dead boy on the ground. His thoughts trailed to when Olivia died. Death made him puke. But he hated puking, though it's not something you can always control. It came out of his mouth in a baby-puke color, something that didn't look too gross. It seemed like forever, and while puking, he wondered if Olivia was watching over him, because if she was, Fredrick hoped that she would make sure he's safe.

Obviously the girl right next to the boy did it, Fredrick thinks. Apparently the man that was almost dead knew her, and trusted her. Her name was Silver. The weirdest part was that they just encountered the two, and they were trusting them! These people were unbelievable, but Fredrick didn't talk. He didn't want to get killed. They kept walking all day, everyone was frightened, scared, worried, confused. Except for one person, but no one knew what exactly happened, except for that one person. The fact that Fredrick, or anyone, didn't run back was surprising. Eventually, some retard complained about his legs being tired or something, so they decided to sleep there or something.

Fredrick tried falling asleep, but he couldn't. He closed his eyes hard, trying to drown out all of the sounds. The stench, though, was almost impossible for Fredrick to make disappear. It smelled of raw eggs and old onions. He wanted to fall asleep, though. He was tired, so tired... his eyelids were trying to peel themselves open... but he couldn't... and then he was sleeping. He dreamed of his family back home, he wished he was with them. The death of the boy was enough to make him want to leave.

He woke to the sound of a girl 'tossing her cookies', or vomiting. The sight Fredrick woke up to made him 'worship the porcelain god', or puke. The old man, already on the verge of death, had his mouth stitched shut. The fingers on his hands, two of them, were cut off and stuffed up his nostrils. What a way to die.

Fredrick had to give whoever did this props, they must be super-creative. The only thing is, he didn't want to congratulate a murderer. His suspicions were enough though. He had known who did this, and he was almost going to go up and ask her how she had such a smart, yet torturous way of killing someone,

but, he didn't want to converse with Silver.

He wanted to go home. Sadly, though, they were all trapped. Fredrick was hoping someone else was thinking the same thing. He was holding back tears, he needed someone here to hold - but there was no chance. Whatever was back at district ten, he might have to say good-bye to. He could be next.

and other times i feel like i should go,
and through it all,
the rise and fall,
the bodies in the streets.

[wingsonmyheels]

Nadia Tossia:

Crying was NOT an option, well actually it was the only option, but hysterics, hysterics were not an option. This was not her moment, this was not her day, this was not week, this was not her ceremony. Nadia would respect the wedding the best she could, no disruptions. Knowing though, that she was going to cry though, made it harder. She would just have to quietly dabb her tears, and gently blow her noes.

Decisions, decisions, how was she going to get her dress to the wedding. This wasn't a local event, she with a few others were going to have to take a boat to another part of the district. But a lightbulb popped into her head, what if she wrapped the dress inside this rugg like thing she stole of her daddy's boat. He wouldn't care, I mean how many aesthetic touches does a fishing boat need. Then she packed her present, a crummy tea pot that her mother said the girl would be thrilled with. Nadia never understand her mothers obsession with tea, somtimes she wondered if it was part of her illness, but mother said that it was one of the few things that kept Nadia sane. That worried Nadia.

Nadia kissed her mother good bye, she had no idea what would be different when she came back, if anything. Nadia liked to fret, and someone needed to remind dad she wasn't well. Turning back to give dad a hard, but hopefully loving stare, she finally hopped onto the boat. With a groan and a lurch it set off. Nadia felt at home on boats most of the time, she'd been with her father now several times, but even she felt uncomfortable on a day as choppy as this, especially when there was one skip that really stood out. Your stomache grabbing your intestines and yanking them upwards as they felt weightness was not somthing she enjoyed.

She tried to talk to the kid next to her but really she wasn't feeling as friendly as she did noramally. Then there was another lurch, and a scrape. The sound of a reef, and there came the unmistakable sloshing and bubbling of water rising through the lower deck, towards the passenger level of the ferry. A few of the people with quicker reactions jumped off the side, but Nadia was sitting right in the middle of the floor. The boat split, each side slowly becoming verticle. With nothing to hold onto Nadia went screaming and shreiking into the water. The boat's wreckage was pulling her down, true to Nadia's core points, she panicked, kicking like crazy, there was bubbles erupted out of her mouth and noes. If there was more weight to pull her down a tad deeper, Nadia would've drowned, she was breaking every rule she had been taught, and learned by heart.

Athleticism pull Nadia through though, and taking a second to catch her breath, Nadia powered through the water towards the shore on this neat little cove. The cove channled into a pipe, and admiring it would be difficult by itself, it was an ugly place, but as Nadia just lay on the ground of the pipe for who-knows-how-long, exhausted, she wondered where she was. Well it turned out that staring off into space shouldn't have been on the list of urgent things to do as several dead bodies floated from the incident all the way in the sewer. Others were now waking up, someone wasn't doing well with the situation, but then Nadia had a body be placed down beside her.

Looking down at the pale, green faces of drown victims she couldn't help but be repulsed, she threw up all over the guy. Instantly, Nadia felt guilty, she hit the body in fustration, the punch landing with a dull thump and no reaction. Fustration overtook Nadia, especially when she tasted the tears, or maybe salt water, she couldn't tell anymore. She kept hitting the body, hoping he would wake up.

Nadia threw up again.
[/size]

[Solace]

This was the First circle of Hell.

It had started as a great day. A bright sky, a happy wedding, and, best of all, a luxurious cruise! It was in D4, but her father had gotten her on this wonderful trip as present for her training. It had also considerably cheered her up from not being selected for the 58th Hunger Games. Every she had met her was polite in the least. Iris had felt happier and on top of the world. The wind had ran through her hair while leaving behind a pleasant salty taste behind. Iris had taken one of the many comfortable chairs and rested her for what couldn't have been more then a minute. That's when things went to Hell.

Things went smoothly first. Iris opened her eyes and saw the island come into sight. That's when the crashed into the cove. Iris heard some scream. It was a shrill, harsh sound. It took Iris a moment to realize it was her, then she shut up. That was not how her father taught her to react. If he had bothered to accompany her, he would have been ashamed. With out any time to expand on the thought, Iris went overboard. At first, she was dazed the someone, probably by accident, had broke her out of it. Then she swam to the island that had originally been a place that promised a happy evening and festivities. Her luggage was obviously gone and ,since they were a day late, others might be there to help them.

Iris reached the island and, after a few quickly breaths, realized no one here was going to help them. That's when she threw a fit. Swear words and fists flew. The fists had no pre-determined destination, they just flew aimlessly. Once she calmed herself, she found herself puking up her guts again. "Now," Iris thought. "Let's see what to do about this mess...

The scene on the beach proved to be worse then it appeared to be in the water. A boy whom Iris did not know, was laying on the beach with his guts cut open. They were all over the sand and, surprisingly, all over another girl whom Iris did not know. Word cam back that the girl's name was Silver. Some may think Silver had tripped over the boy, but Iris was raised to be suspicious of anyone who gave her the slightest reason too. Silver obviously killed the boy. Once the word came back again Iris felt better that her suspicions were shared by most of the group. It gave her reason to gain back a little of that elated feeling she had on the way here.

Another thing Iris discovered upon arriving which had surprised her and disgusted her more then the dead boy was the half-dead old man. Iris got the chance to speak with him briefly. That's when she found out the old man didn't remember his name or why he was there. Iris felt waves upon waves of pity wash over her. They were dulled by a small wonderment. Iris tried to think back to when she had seen this man on the boat and came up blank. Surely, he couldn't have already been here? Who was sick enough to leave him?

What drew her attention from the old man, she had decided to call him Arthur, at least in her mind, she thought her looked like an Arthur, was a girl slapping a drown victim. Iris felt the waves of pity return, but this time it was to the girl. The old man was pitiful, but at least he wasn't in any fit of hysteria like her, and like Iris was earlier. After a deep breath, Iris walked up to the girl and gently began pulling her off what might once have been someone very important to her.


-------------------------------------

Later on, when their little group had found a sewage pipe to sleep in, Iris threw up again. It wasn't from anymore death, but the wretched smell was killing her. The girl from earlier was gone and so was the old man. She was so tired sleep had wrapped in her cold embrace quickly. No dreams had came to her, Iris considered it a blessing from God. The next morning is when God decided to take back his little favor.

Iris had slept close to a brunette girl and some Indian guy, neither of which she knew. Iris had woken next morning to the sound of retching. When she turned her she discovered it was the brunette. She got up from her disgusting little place and gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, buddy, what's wrong...?" Iris had began gently and trailed off when she saw what the girl was throwing up at. The half-dead man had gone all the way. it wasn't from past injuries, someone had killed him. Two of his finger were cut of and shoved up his nose and his mouth was sewed shut. Iris just looked at him, dazed. One word played over and over in her head.

Silver.

[shrimp]

This is so fucked up.

I mean, I hadn't expected it to turn out this way, you know? When someone's invited to a wedding, you expect it to be fun, you expect it to be filled with sobs of joy, food and a few glasses of wine [or maybe three. Or four. You get my drift] But you really don't expect a wedding to become all confounded and mish-mashed into this ridiculously idiotic, disgusting, terrible and dark event. Were we the only ones left on this godforsaken island? Had all the other guests save for us six perished already? What the hell had happened to them? The mere thoughts about these bloody massacres make me glad that Hayley isn't here with me [and no, it's not because I like her like that or anything; she just doesn't deserve to die like this] - her friend was invited, but he's dead now. I hadn't recognized him at first, but upon closer inspection, it was definitely him.

Then again, I haven't had the chance to recognize many people in general. I had missed the boat after all - Nila had held me up even though she wasn't going and just when I reached the harbor the crew was already set sail. Clearly, this had happened to more than one person because there were a bunch of people that were already here, waiting. There was this smaller boat that had been rented for this event [or bought - I don't really give a damn as to how someone acquired a freaking boat, so I really didn't pay attention to that part]. It pulled up slowly, the motor making funny sounds and the boat itself seemed rather dilapidated and dirty. But nonetheless, none of had assumed that it would take a turn for the worse. Until it crashed, that is.

We had fled, water clogging our noises, our screams drowned out by the unforgiving chills of the ocean. I'm sure that at least one of us drowned in the dark depths because there were only a few of us left by the time that we crawled onto shore [if you could call it that - we essentially wound up in a cove]. There was however, an old man that none of us had seen prior to the crash. Clearly, he had been one of the guests, although I had no clue as to why he was out here. Had something gone wrong at the wedding? Was the man deranged, not all together? Forget about telling us about what had happened - he couldn't even remember his name. So therefore, we have no clue about the welfare about the rest of the party, no clue about what the man has been through, and no clue about what lies ahead.

The captain is the smartest man I've ever met, obviously. Jumping into a hole that could lead to who-knows where is clearly the most logical option to anything. But everybody followed, and seeing that I would prefer to die with other people rather than by myself, I followed. And the repercussions of this decision was that we landed in a sewer. Now I've already been in too many enclosed spaces for my own good [it's where I met Hayley, and that meeting wasn't exactly a cheery one. Ventilation systems can only be jovial for a small amount of time, you know. Then the space becomes overwhelmingly small and cramped and you just have to get out and flee and it's terrible], so I wasn't particularly happy to find myself in this space, but there was light, at least. And up ahead were two kids, a guy and a girl. And then lights went out, a scream rang out, and the boy was dead the minute that we were able to see anything again.

It was obviously the girl's doing - Silver was her name. She was the only one near the guy [Hayley's gonna be really upset when I have to tell her that Datonec's dead] in the first place, and then she was covered in his blood and nobody else could have gotten there without us hearing them, right? Then again, we were all moving around, with the water splashing around and everything - someone could have wandering in, splashed around a bit, killed Datonec and then fled. But still, I doubt that it's possible. Our killer is right here - the girl with the silver hair did it. But why nobody did anything about it confuses me. I mean, here's the killer. And she could strike again, so why not arrest her, make sure that she can't hurt anyone else?

We all fell asleep in those sewers, which is rather disgusting by the way. But when we woke up, he was dead. The old man was murdered, and the murderess was right there, not tied up or watched or anything. And the brutality of it... Something was wrong with the girl, for she was able to cut the old man's fingers off and shove it up his nose. Plus, his mouth was sewn together. Nobody would be able to do that if they had any bit of sanity left. When we saw this some girls threw up, but everyone else just stood there, staring. Nobody was doing anything, yet again, and obviously, Silver did it; Silver deserved to pay for her crimes. But first, we would have to get to fresh air, to some manhole, and then we would deal with the girl. And it would do no good to state my accusations now. What if she fled? Then we'd have some murderess wanting revenge sneaking around in the sewers, and that would be terrible.

"Right," I state, hands slightly trembling from the mere thought about being a possible murder victim. I don't want to die, no way. Especially in here, in the dimly lit, smelly sewers where anything can happen and none of us have any knowledge about the underground pipes. I turn back to the group, and say the most obvious thing in the world. Yet, I highly doubt that this is running through their minds because there's a murdered man right in their line of sight.

"We've got to get out of here."

[Stare]

Silver Emmend

And then it happens.
I completely lose it.
<><><><><><><><><><><>

[/center]


A million stars light up the night, turning black into white as they shine and dance, laughing down at me. The water around me is calm and cool, surrounding me as I kick my legs to stay above the surface. What would I give to breath underwater? Anything. I envy the pale fish that mistake my toes for food, nibbling them before losing interest and swimming away to find another curious object. The fish in District Four aren't like that- they fear humans, because we hunt them. Somehow their tiny brains have figured out that we are the enemies, and know to avoid us and our colorful bait. It is a forever battle between fishers and fish, with the fish constantly losing because we are District Four citizens, who are known for their stubbornness and good fishing skills.

These fish aren't like those fish, though. They are calm and unafraid, coming to investigate for a few moments before deciding I'm not interesting because I'm not food, and moving on. There's something odd about that. In fact, there's something odd about this entire place. I can't remember how I got here, and have no idea how to leave. But for some reason, that's okay, and I continue swimming, feeling a warm breeze race across the waves to meet me, carrying the salty scent of home with it. But suddenly, the smell of the ocean and dead fish is mixed with something disgusting and very familiar. I wrinkle my nose, feeling my stomach twist at the memories that are carried along with this stench. And then there are voices, and I cringe slightly as I realize that I am slowly being dragged out of my beautiful dream.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

I wake up with the oddest thought in my head. It isn't 'why is everyone awake already?' or 'why does it smell like puke?' or even 'why does everyone look horrified?'. No, I wake up wondering why everyone hates me.

Ever since that poor young man died (the image replays itself over and over again in my mind, a broken movie that may never end) and the odd group of people found me, I have been treated like an outsider. They acted like I am something even more disgusting than the sewer, and I eventually ended up walking outside of the small group, listening to them whisper my odd name and look back at me oddly. I don't think I've ever felt more alone or scared or confused in my life. They gazed at me as if I was a threat, and while walking all I wanted was for someone to be beside me and tell me everything was going to be alright. I wanted Yucca, because she was my friend. One bit of normalcy on this crazy island.

My feet are unsteady as I stumble up into a standing position, gazing tiredly at all the people around me. If we were at home, I would be glaring at them, because they have no right to be angry at me. It's not fair that they're all teaming up on me- don't they see that if we want to survive, we have to all get along? But we aren't at home. I've suffered through finding my friend, losing her, almost dying in a fire, jumping out of a window and off a small cliff, almost drowning, getting almost totally stuck in a small hole that seemed to lead me to nowhere, fell into a sewer, and losing my mind about four times through it all. It's turned me into a broken, scared little girl who's lost her inner fire because of a real one. And I'm too tired and sad and terrified to really fight the hate that is directed at me.

And then I see him, and my heart nearly stops. I immediately turn away, tears slipping through my lashes and gliding down my cheeks. They can stare all they want, because to them, he was hardly anyone. But he meant something to me. In the cove, he made me realize that while I must fear everyone, it doesn't mean I can't trust anyone. When I found out he was alive, I was absolutely delighted, but now... now I'm only terrified and extremely sad. I doubt he would not consider me his friend, but he trusted me, which means a lot on this island now that all these terrible things have happened. If there was anyone on the island beside Yucca who I didn't want gone, it was him, even though I didn't even know his name.

"Right," says a voice suddenly, and I immediately know the source without having to look. A young man who towers above me. "We've got to get get out of here."

I spin around, turning my tear stained face him and the rest of the group and keeping my voice as steadily sarcastic as possible. "Thank you, sir, for that lovely bit of wisdom."[/size][/blockquote][/justify][/color]

[Solace]

Iris' eyes dotted around nervously. An unsure feeling had washed over her. Iris was sure it was Silver, it just had to be Silver, it seemed to Iris that her sanity depended solely on that fact, but she couldn't help being unsure. Upon finding the old man who was already dying dead in an extremely gruesome way, she managed to spot Silver. The possible killer's back was turned to the victims and tears were running down her face. Iris could only see the tears they blurred a bit with the girl's make-up. Why was she crying if she killed him? Was this just an act? If it was an act it was damn convincing one too. Iris didn't know, but she knew she didn't like to see anyone cry like that.

It took much consideration, but Iris decided to attempt to comfort the suspected murderess. Even if Silver's tears turned out to be an act, Iris was completely certain she could take care of herself in any situation. And, as said before, she couldn't stand to see people cry. Using baby steps, Iris made her way to Silver.She was about half-way there when she just began to take normal steps. It looked foolish to just inch towards her. Iris Winters was definitely not a coward.

After what seemed to seemed to be an eternity, Iris how found herself standing next to a crying Silver. "Hey... you alright?" Iris caught herself almost as soon as she said it. No, of course your not. Stupid fucking question. I mean, you just lost someone who you obviously know but..." Iris trailed off after that, embarrassed. Only she could fuck up comforting somebody. "I'm sorry." Iris stuttered, not eve sure what the Hell she was sorry about. Usually, she wouldn't be saying sorry, but something about Silver was unnerving her.

Iris glanced at the boy Silver had snarled at a moment before her arrival. In a regular situation, Iris would side with the boy and call Silver a bitch, but this was different. Being rude when you had just lost someone was perfectly understandable. Iris knew this perfectly well, so did the people she basically terrorized after her sister's funeral. The corners of her mouth twitched at the memory, she couldn't help it. As for the boy, Iris decided instead of starting with him if he said something back to Silver, she'd just try and keep the peace.

The shit hit the fan a moment later. A crab, a hermit crab Iris discovered later on, had decided to take the moment of silence to grab Iris with an ugly purple claw. Iris screamed, but it wasn't wordless. Every profanity Iris knew came out of her mouth that moment. Iris also screeched out several things the crab could do to itself and it's mother in the process of freaking out. At that moment, Iris was totally oblivious to the fact she may freaking the others, including the girl she just tried to comfort, out. Without thinking, something Iris seemed to be having problems doing as of late, grabbed the crab and with her thin muscles and yanked it off. The purple claw had torn off alot of skin and left Iris bleeding. With a sound that sounded more animal then human, Iris pitched it into the ocean, not to far off where the crash that killed so many people took place.

[apocalypse]

,, fredrick bell .

Fredrick is home again. All around him are people; people crying, showing sympathy, and people barfing. The scene is enough to make Fredrick smile, he smiles because he knows that he is one step closer to his family, every second that ticks by means that he is a second closer to being home, what is left of his home. "Hey, buddy, what's wrong...?" said some girl to another brunette. Fredrick has never heard anyone call a girl "buddy", never. "We've got to get out of here." a blond dude states. Fredrick is in the middle of it all, not saying anything. He was like this at home, only speaking when necessary, or when he felt like it. But it wasn't necessary, and he didn't feel like it.

"Thank you, sir, for that lovely bit of wisdom." said some smart-ass. Wait, that was Silver. She's crying, but why? Does she know people think she's the murderer? Is she missing someone? Did she know those people? "Hey... you alright?" says the girl who spoke before, the one who reached out to the puking brunette. "No, of course your not. Stupid fucking question. I mean, you just lost someone who you obviously know but..." She sort of made things worse by stating her mistake. "I'm sorry." Fredrick thought she was smart by ending her speech like that.

That was enough for Fredrick, he felt himself falling asleep, laying on the metal plates. When he was almost at the point of darkness, he was brought back to reality by a scream. Did I really think I would get some sleep? And, is someone dying? Instead, he opened up his eyes to see a girl yanking a crab off her foot, and throwing it somewhere. "Holy cow! You scared me like shit!" Fredrick swore like there was no tomorrow, which was very uncommon of him. An apology was necessary.

"Sorry, guys. I just freaked out... I'm scared... I want to go home..." Fredrick looked away and started tapping his hands on his legs.

[Stare]

Silver Emmend

I'll admit it.
I'm scared.
<><><><><><><><>

[/center]


As soon as she came near me, I backed away, my eyes wide with distaste. I don't know her or like her. In fact, with the way they've been treating me, I don't like any of them. So as she tried to calm me down, I simply glared at her in a way that I would have never glared at anyone back at home. But I've been through a lot in the past day. I've experienced things an almost fifteen-year-old girl should never have to. I'm alone and confused and scared. Yeah, we can all act brave and confident, but the truth is, we all know that this is something we weren't prepared for. Something that none of us know anything about. Something terrifying. And we can go ahead and tell ourselves and each other that we aren't afraid, but it's just a lie. It isn't going to fix anything. So I'll admit it- I'm scared. And now I have to do something about it.

All I want is to be away from here. This is my perfect nightmare- trapped underground somewhere near water that is filthy with a bunch of strangers who hate me, and the haunting idea that I may never see my friend again. Maybe that's what's really bugging me the most. Not knowing if Yucca is alright. If she's not, I'll never forgive myself- I promised her I would protect her, and then the fire started and I lost her. I can't believe I was so stupid! I let myself get distracted, and then, when I could have gone looking for her, I just... I was selfish. So instead of staying longer to try and find her and make sure she was okay, I jumped out of the window. And, next to accepting the invitation to the wedding, that was probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

I want my friend back. I want to see Yucca's unusual white hair. I want to talk to her about the moon and the water and learning how to read. I want to hear her quiet voice drifting across the night air as we sit on the slightly damp rocks under the dock, thinking about friendship and hope and chasing the moon. I want it to be that time again, right after I had finished reading my book by the roaring fire (if I get home, I am sure it will be a long time before I consider fire cozy again). I remember deciding, rather reluctantly, to go visit the water before I went to sleep. That was before she taught me to accept the fact that I'm closer to water than normal people are- before she made me realize that it's okay to love something. I had been curious about the rocks, and that's when I found her- gazing at the moon, as I would soon find out she did often. And as we talked, both hesitant and unsure, a friendship formed. Not like my other friendships, though. This was the kind that never really died out.

My eyebrows rise up in amusement as the crab pinches the girl, managing to get quite a few colorful words out of her. I watch her completely lose it, screaming in a way that I wouldn't have thought possible for the human vocal cords. When at last she is finished and bleeding, I eye her coolly for a moment. And then the boy speaks, echoing my thoughts. I glance at him, the ice in my eyes fading a bit. We all just want to go home. I want to be back at my house on the side of the hill, or fishing as the sun burns my pale skin, or talking to someone at the market. I want to see the Peacekeepers glare at me, and I want to watch Careers train for the Games. I want to be swimming in cool water under a clear blue sky. I want to smell the scent of salt drifting over the land to meet me. I want to see the moonlight shatter as it hits the turquoise waves at just the right angle, like it did that one night. I, like him, just want to go home.

However, that doesn't look like it's going to happen anytime soon.

My stomach rumbles quietly, and I realize just then how hungry I am. Fear has hidden this up until now, but now it has grown just a little too great to ignore. If we were above ground, near the ocean, we could get food. We're expert fishers, after all. But instead, we're stuck in this hole. So, as Captain Obvious stated, we have to get out of here. Fast.

I look at him, and my voice is almost gentle. Almost. "We all want to go home. However, I don't see that happening anytime in the near future." I look around at the small group of people, knowing that no one would ever trust me enough to lead me out of it. Someone has to take charge, and obviously, that someone is not going to be me. I've told them what I know- maybe later I'll become a more valuable tool. However, now I have to step out of the spotlight and lay low. No need to draw attention to myself (more than I already have, of course). "Does anyone have a plan? Any way we can get out of here?"[/color][/blockquote][/justify][/size]

[charade]

Branden Sykes





The rancid sewage pooling around his ankles was starting to itch as it dried on his skin, and he shifted his weight from leg to leg as he surveyed his fellow party guests. Including himself there were seven highly unhappy, slightly soggy people crowded into the underground tunnel. That and a duo of decaying bodies. He recognized a few of his erstwhile companions from his excursions around district four, but the others were unknown. Regardless, they were all strangers to him.


The brunette closest to him was holding her stomach, and peered around fearfully. Not that he blamed her. The situation was upsetting if not horrific. Behind her, a young man looked on the verge of tears. Or perhaps his eyes were just watering from the unholy stench that permeated the area. A second brunette was hitting a corpse, after having thrown up on it. Branden edged away, not keen to get vomit, sewage, or dead body on his clothes.


Another girl, one with dark hair and blue eyes, had tried to say something to the old man, before realizing he was dead. Branden was fairly certain he had seen her around. Irene or Something close to that was her name. All was silent in the tunnel until a blonde boy finally talked. Right. We've got to get out of here." The words came out shakily.

The dark-haired girl threw something, probably a crab. It landed with a plop. All around him people began to complain or curse each other out. Tension was high and it seemed like people would come to blows soon. Sidelong glances were cast at the Silver, the girl most likely to be responsible for the deaths; which at the moment was of no concern to him personally. If people were intent on bickering, they would likely die down in this hole. Well the helll with that. His sisters needed him. Standing to his feet, he struck the side of the tunnel, hoping to grab everyone's attention. Which it seemed like it did. Silver said something sensible, which prompted Branden to talk.


"All right listen up people, I'm not interested in dying in this hole. It doesn't matter who killed these two right now. I'm sure the peacekeepers will sort this whole business out after we get off of this island and alert the proper authorities." He paused for breath and took a few steps north, farther into the tunnel. "Sitting around in this muck bickering isn't going to get us anywhere. I'm going to walk in this direction. This tunnel has to end at some point, and we will find an exit eventually. Come on, we're in this together." He began to walk down the tunnel at a brisk pace , confident that the others would follow.[/color]

[Solace]

Silver, which Iris had put aside her reputation to comfort, had decided not to say a word. The probable murderess had just glared at Iris. Iris, against her will, shrank back from the gaze but glared back just the same. Silver's gaze scared her, but she wasn't sure why. Regardless, Iris wasn't about to look like a total wimp in front of a big group of D4s. She sighed. "Whatever." she said indifferently. If Silver was not going to accept her offer for friendship then then fuck it.

It took Iris several minutes to come down after the goddamn crab grabbed and even longer to resist bitch-smacking Silver for looking amused at the whole thing. She turned to the boy she scared with her episode as he apologized. "It's fine. I would have said worse." she told him quietly. It was true, she would have gone bugshit.

Iris listened as a boy who looked as if he had Indian heritage who she saw spoke up and tried to take charge. He seemed alright to her, not like Silver or anything. Iris listened politely to his speech and watched him for a second as he walked down the beach. Iris turned to the others. "I don't know what the Hell the rest of you are doing, but i'm going with him." she said. He looked like he'd be a good ally to have. "Wait up!" she called and jogged a bit to caught up, her small wound shortly forgotten.

[shrimp]

Alright, what the hell did I do to make her all upset? I just said that we had to get out of here, not that "she murdered him" or that "she need to go to a psychiatric ward because her lust for blood is unreasonably high". Although of course, those two statements are apparent - how else would there be two murders upon her entrance into our little group? If she were innocent, it really wouldn't make sense and I'll eat my own sewage-encrusted sock if she actually didn't commit the murders. She's gotta be a great actress too - she's actually crying about the murder, which must be difficult to do if she's the one who sadistically shoved the old man's own fingers up his nostrils.

I won't be surprised if the girl who screeches at crabs is next - she's being very very loud in this enclosed space, and murders tend to be rather... Unhinged, right? Very little things can set them off, and maybe while we're here, the lights will flicker off again and when they turn on the black-haired girl will be lying on the ground, a mere shadow of the figure that was once screaming obscenities at a crustacean and its mother. Some guy [his sister died last year I think] then cursed due to this. I mean really guys - I may be a hypocrite here, but cursing doesn't help anything - it's only making the situation worse,so they should fucking stop. Little-Miss Murderess here seems to be the only one who has a set of brains on her, 'cause she's trying to figure a way out of here rather than cursing like a sailor. And if I'm going to risk my life to listen to someone who's just killed two others, then I'll get my head cut off faster than I can blink.

"Sitting around in this muck bickering isn't going to get us anywhere. I'm going to walk in this direction. This tunnel has to end at some point, and we will find an exit eventually. Come on, we're in this together."

Well, that works too. Crab-screamer girl runs after him, and I figure that if they're going, I might as well go too. It's better to be in a group after all, rather than alone. You die slower this way. And so we set off along this ridiculously terrible smelling sewer, trying to find some way out. We walk for a time, the lights flickering at times. I do my best not to look at the dirty water - who knows what lurks in all of the shit that's littered here? Instead, I walk faster and soon the captain and I are ahead of the group, neither of us speaking. The captain's a middle-aged man - wide shoulders, visible biceps. It's obvious that he was a Career, in fact he talked about it often when we were sailing here, reminiscing about the "good 'ol days" when he was young and carefree and aiming to win glory for his district. "You never know," he had jovially said. "Maybe one of you guys will be able to do the same." But now his frazzled appearance bears no resemblance to the man who had laughed and accidentally steered the boat into the cove.

But then his eyes widen, and I quickly look ahead at what he's looking at. What if it's the actual killer [on the off chance that Ms. Silver Emmend has not murdered two people in front of our very eyes], but instead I see a small pinprick of light, and I shout out "Up ahead!" Water begins to slosh as I race towards the light, finally slowing when it becomes more discernible. Clearly, it's coming from above, but when I look upwards, all I see is a few holes shining down onto a ladder. I don't quite understand, but the captain clearly has some recognition of what is held inside of a sewer. He states "It's a manhole," and grasps the ladder with shaky hands, slowly making his way to salvation. I slowly follow, not quite trusting the rusty metal that I have to put my feet on, but if I'm going, then goddammit everybody's going. I turn around, practically shouting "Come on already!" and I put my foot on the first rung.

[charade]

Branden Sykes






"Wait up!" Glancing behind him, Branden spotted three people sloshing in a disorderly fashion. Well, that was less than he had hoped, but it was comforting to know that a few fearful souls had the nerve to follow him. The captain of the ship was a welcome sight, whatever authority he still exhibited was sure to bring the rest of the group to join this venture. The blond boy that Silver had been sarcastic to trailed after Branden as well, along with the dark-haired girl that had thrown the crab. Branden made a mental note to learn everyone's names as soon as possible.

"Up ahead!" It was not long before a trio of circular lights was spotted above them. A rusted ladder could be seen leading to what looked like freedom. The captain took point and started up the ladder slowly but surely. It was clear that he was as eager as the rest of them to get back into the sunlight. The blond boy put a foot on the bottom rung and started up after the captain, but Branden gripped the side of the ladder and swung himself a few rungs higher than the lad. "Hey, I'm the one who suggested we start walking in this direction," he quipped.


Branden peered into the shifting darkness above him, as the lower half of the captain was still visible. There was a grating sound, and the area with the ladder became flooded with light. "Manhole cover's off!"The captain yelled down. "Can you just feel that ocean bree-. The older man stopped suddenly, and Branden heard an odd sound. A sort of squelching, ripping noise. A warm dark liquid rained down from the top of the ladder, spattering Branden's face. He wiped it off in disgust, slowly coming to the realization that it was blood. That observation was interupted when the Captain's head plopped down into the crook of Branden's arm, the dead face etched with a look of surprise.


Branden screamed and dropped the head, moments before the rest of the corpse fell down the ladder, taking Branden with it. As he landed hard in the churning muck, agonizing pain shot through his right leg; there was no accompying cracking noise, so he knew he didn't break anything, but the pain was still intense. Something was twisted. Possibly fractured. Hurriedly pushing the body off of himself, branden slowly crawled over to and gripped the nearest wall, pushing himself into a sitting position. Grimacing as he brought his injured leg up, he watched as the captain's head bobbed in the filthy water like a macabre floatation device. The grating noise reached his ears again, and the light disappeared. Someone had closed the manhole. Someone had just just killed the captain. And it sure as hell couldn't have been Silver Emmend. The shocked faces of his two companions stared at him. "Bloody hell." was all Branden could think to say.

[Rosetta]

(ooc: You guys might want to check out my last post in this thread first to fully understand what's going on, if you haven't already. Thanks!^^)

Yucca Ephedra

[/center]

Being followed is never fun. More than not fun, frightening, really. But, when you're being followed and it could be a murderer, it becomes horrifying. And so, Yucca was completely and utterly horrified. Yucca's father collected old horror books, books people never read anymore, with stained pages and sagging covers. Still, he loved them and took great joy in reading long passages out to his family. In each murder scene, the poor victim has wandered off on their own and is being followed. In fear, they sprint away, but always run right into a problem: the murderer.

Yucca must be trapped in some horror story. This was all too real, too terrifying. Why had she left the others? The ones she'd woken up beside? Why was she now running through the dark forest, dodging past trees and ducking under branches, arms beating out wildly in front of her? She could hear the footsteps behind her, louder and closer...much closer! Headed for her!

Help me, Net![/i]

...[/i]

Tears were pouring down her face now, frantic tears. She was sure she'd wet herself and her skin was paler than ever, paler than her hair, so she was merely a ghost, crashing through the forest. Stomach feeling as though it had been turned inside out, she made to leap over a fallen log, but her foot caught and she fell flat on her face in the mud. The putrid substance splattered around her, getting into her eyes and mouth and coating the front of her body, sticking her there like glue. Now, heart racing, arms flailing at the thick surface, trying to free herself, her thoughts screamed loud and clear through the fray: You're going to die.

Never so directly had Yucca wrestled with the predicament she might not be around much longer. That she might die. She had yet to work out all the questions in her head. Would it hurt? Would she see her and him? Would they all be together? Would she see her life flashing before her eyes? A tunnel? Nothing? What would happen? Sure, everyone thought about their deaths. But, it was always thought of as a far off prospect, not something that'll happen so soon. It's put off, shoved to the back of one's mind, to be taken when it comes. Well, here it came. So, Yucca stopped and lay there in the mud and waited for the fleeting death.

And waited...

It never came. As suddenly as the footsteps had come, they'd vanished, leaving only crickets in their wake. Still, Yucca did not relax, wondering if perhaps her would-be killer was standing over, so silently, waiting for her to rise herself. Perhaps they wanted her to get up, so they could humiliate her before ending her short fourteen years of life. Or maybe they were contemplating what unspeakable things to do to her. Either way, Yucca, still shaky, weak and covered in mud, didn't want to die never knowing who it was that took Mahi and that other girl and possibly Silver...suddenly, curiosity overtook her fear and she pressed her palms into the sticky mud, propping the rest of her body up.

And...

There was no one...Yucca physically shook her head, squinting into the darkness all around her, but she saw no figures. The moon and stars illuminated very little of her surrounding area, but just enough for her to make out that no one was there. There wasn't even any rustling. They'd just evaporated...

Yucca suddenly felt queasy. Was she imagining it? Had she been running for no reason at all, fooled by her own mind? At this thought, she felt even more unsettled. Was she going mad? Driven insane by the horrors she was facing on this wretched island?

No-wasn't that a footprint in the soil? Yucca unsteadily got to her feet. For a moment, she felt too weak and staggered, leaning against a tree for support. She had a stitch in her side, and her knees stung from here she'd fallen. When she brought her hands to them, they both came back wet with glistening blood. Disregarding this for later, Yucca hobbled to where she'd seen the footsteps...and sure enough, there were two footprints in the soil. And they couldn't be hers. Yucca's feet were tinier than the average person's, really, and these footprints were larger than hers. Yes, someone had been following her. But who?

Before she could work this out in her head, Yucca heard a noise unlike any she'd heard before. It was a slashing noise. But, something more...not just slashing...Someone was over there! Yucca wasn't the one to investigate, but she suddenly remembered her main mission: to find Silver. So, sloshing through the mud puddle, the girl, her heart still leaping in her throat, sprinted for the noise, praying that she’d catch a glimpse of silver…

When she arrived in the clearing, she was confused at first. What had just toppled in that open manhole? Then, her eyes adjusted and she realized.

Her scream never left her mouth. She was petrified. Dark stains stretched on the ground, right where a man had fallen through...a dead, or otherwise unconciuos man that is.

Thump.

Yucca dropped to her knees, gagging, clutching at her eyes, trying to make it go away. But, it didn't. The images were still there, imprinted horribly in her mind, tattooed onto the inside of her skull...a girl hanging from the ceiling, a choking girl and a bloody man falling with a loud thud into the manhole.

Net, help me.

It's alright, Yucca, hang in there.[/i]

Yucca finally managed to drag her head away from her hands to find the sky. But, the moon had moved into the cover of clouds, trying to hide the murder too. That's when she noticed the voices in that manhole. More than one...once more, curiosity won. She didn't want to approach the blood, but to find out who was down there, she had no choice.

She stumbled towards it, trying to skirt around the stains, but she had so covered in god-knows-what at that point, she suddenly no longer cared. Slowly, she lowered herself to the manhole and peered through, her matted white hair falling around her face.

The first thing she saw was a group of people and silver-hair-Silver! Silver was done there! But, Yucca's shout to her stopped in her throat as she caught sight of something else. The man's body lay down there, bloody and unmoving. But, that's what wasn't what stopped Yucca, caused her to kneel over the manhole, motionlessly, having wet herself again, trying to fight down hot bile. That wasn’t the thing that widened her eyes, opened her mouth and produce a small squeak of a gasp. No, it was something else much more vile.

It was the man's severed head lying a few feet away.[/color][/size][/blockquote]