⎝ DAY 1┊3/4 ⎞ ❧ ⎝ DATE┊MARCH 14TH ⎞ ❧ ⎝ LOCATION┊TRAIN • CABIN ⎞⎝ MOOD┊CALM ⎞ ❧ ⎝ ❤??┊0% ⎞ ❧ ⎝ WEARING ⎞ ❧ ⎝ OOC┊ — ⎞ Bryan intently listened to Julius' thoughts while looking at the window, watching the already-speeding-by land. He was right; everyone in Bentley seemed . . . Hmm. If he had to choose a word for it, it would be 'cult', they just had that way about them, and all knowing each other. ". . . Just how did she predict everything?" "She" had been referring to the daughter of the Dreamers. What sort of surname was that, anyway? He remembered her distinctly, when he thought about it. She seemed scared. Why was she so willing to help them, back then? That didn't do anything but raise his already high-level suspicions about the town. If she really was alive, and would be anywhere . . . Bryan had his money on Bentley. "There was definitely something up with them, and her." he replied, mindlessly rubbing two of his fingers together, "When we get there, we'll definitely find out what it is." The door slid open and Bryan looked up to see Erik. "I hope you don't mind company," He set his bag down, "There was no way I was going to sit out there with the kids when more serious things were going on back here." . . . Well, he had a point. Bryan didn't know how to feel about Erik anymore. Since all that stuff with the deaths had been going on, he hadn't been focused enough to even care for anyone else except for her. Siblings or not, it was hard to love anyone else that wasn't her. Staying quiet, Bryan listened to the on-going discussion of the suspicious Bentley and formulated his own thoughts with it. Slightly, he twitched when her name left his lips, and glanced up at him with dark eyes. The door slid open once more and the odd expression was gone. He looked over to see a hesitant Maria. With little to no interest, Bryan averted his gaze out the window once more. "I, uh . . . I just thought you might want another person that was actually present to be here." You're useless, why would we want you? He kept the thought to himself. At least Erik could be helpful. "Granted, I spent most of the trip to Bentley doped up, but I did get some quality time with their too-touchy medical staff . . ." He remembered that. He didn't like him putting their hands all over the campers, plus her, plus himself. If he had the time to spare, maybe he would remove their hands and ice them to hang on a public wall. The seat next to him nudged down and his hand was grabbed. He almost crushed the other hand that began to hold his. He glanced down at it, and then up at Maria. She seemed to want to comfort him. He didn't want to be comforted by her. Regardless of what he thought about her before, there was only one person who could really bring him solace — and her name wasn't Maria Hartwick. Still, it would be rude to let go, so he kept hanging on. "We've established that." he said coolly, looking out the window again and resting his chin on his hand from his propped-up elbow. "We should probably get some plan of action going, Julius." He mentioned Julius specifically on purpose, "Can't just blow up in there like dynamite. Think staying at that inn again would be a start."
I've written a lot, but I realize that I haven't shown anyone and I can't be looked at, either. ; n ;
But Ash, no previous rainbowfag admits to being a rainbowfag. It's like a code, or something.
⎝ DAY 1┊2/4 ⎞ ❧ ⎝ DATE┊MARCH 14TH ⎞ ❧ ⎝ LOCATION┊HOSPITAL ⎞⎝ MOOD┊HEHE. ⎞ ❧ ⎝ ❤??┊0% ⎞ ❧ ⎝ WEARING ⎞ ❧ ⎝ OOC┊ — ⎞ "Heh . . . Come now . . . That's something I was going to ask you . . ." He began to reply without turning to Bryan. He adjusted the sleeve of his dark jacket and cracked a bit of a grin. "But even so, I know the answers . . . I know this is something we've been looking forward to for quite the while, now." The Professor glanced sidelong at Bryan, whose grin got a little wider; he even gave a little chuckle. It was true, they had been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. He patted one of his pockets for the butterfly knife he had recently become a pro with. A girl, Bryan recognized her as Zoey Klein, came upon them and he turned a critical eye on her immediately, them having been interrupted. He had found that his patience had become really thin over the last year. He used to have the patience of a saint, but then everyone started getting on his nerves after she disappeared. The girl left them to their company once more, and with their things, they began to head for seats in the train. What were half of these kids doing here, anyway? He guessed they all had a death wish or something, so that was their deal . . . Not his. But Julius still cared for them, so he pulled through that he would protect them. No more would die. "Bryan . . . Only you can understand what I'm feeling . . ." Julius began again, and Bryan felt that surge of humanity once more that only seemed to come when they spoke of the situation and when he thought about the past. "We know exactly what we have to do . . ." He was right; even if Jonathan and Noëlle were, by some miracle, still alive, it changed nothing. Bryan would stop at nothing to get the blood he craved. Julius knew it; he knew the feelings, the charge, the speed, the drive. They would do it together. "Whatever it takes . . . Let us make them pay." At the words, his expression grew dark, almost slightly deranged if you looked close enough, and he smiled. The two of them found their own train cabin and left the door slightly open in case anyone wanted to join them; at this point, Bryan was feeling much calmer and was down for anyone. Meanwhile, he and Julius talked about this and that, the subject, for the time being, remaining lighthearted. They couldn't get bogged down in their violent emotions yet, no matter how much he wanted to burst out and slit a few throats. "D'you think we'll stay at that inn again?" he asked, remembering the bitchy receptionist.
⎛ DAY 1 ‖ 2/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ MARCH 14TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ TRAIN STATION ⎠⎛ MOOD ‖ IN PAIN ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0.5% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ＷＡＳ ＩＴ ＳＯＭＥＴＨＩＮＧ ＬＩＫＥ ＦＡＴＥ？❞ ♡ ~ ✖ ~ ♡The number of people arriving finally slowed to one or two every now and then, and Sophie gazed around, taking stock of their little group — and what an unlikely one they were. What were a bunch of misfits like them going to really do, anyway? Then again . . . She did want to know what was so off about that place; Bentley. She still remembered the smell and look of the oddly-shaped sweets shop, and the little girl. The receptionist with the attitude, the one from the Inn. And then there was the drunken man that attempted to bring them home. He failed miserably. It was obvious that Freddie hadn't been pleased to see Sophie's battle wounds, and she almost felt ashamed for showing them to him. Perhaps he thought badly of her now, for not standing up to her parents, but, annoying and hateful as they were, those few nights on their arrival home, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Maybe she had missed them, or something. Annoying. His reaction to her sort-of-accidental confession of missing him please her, though. Little things like that always still brought her pleasure. He took a few deep breaths before answering. ❝Well . . . I've been trying to keep myself busy. Try to get my mind off of things . . .❞ Her smile was almost sympathetic; fortunately, she'd had Lucas for that. Then again, as friends, they could help each other. She winced slightly at the movement of her arm that stretched the skin on her back. ❝I can't really say it worked, though.❞ He sighed and this time, she frowned. ❝When Mommy and Daddy Dearest are away, you should come over more often. I'm sure we can think of something.❞ She knew she didn't have to mess with her tone to insinuate anything, but distractions didn't always have to involve sex — it was just a generally good method. ❝Well, if we come back alive, that is.❞ As it were, Sophie felt she knew that there was something very wrong with Bentley. Without even thinking about it, she grabbed Freddie's hand and sighed. ❝Would you like to sit with Lucas and I on the train?❞ Due to all the physical stress from her wounds, she would probably just fall asleep.
⎛ DAY 1 ‖ 2/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ MARCH 14TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ TRAIN STATION ⎠⎛ MOOD ‖ IN PAIN ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ＷＡＳ ＩＴ ＳＯＭＥＴＨＩＮＧ ＬＩＫＥ ＦＡＴＥ？❞ ♡ ~ ✖ ~ ♡Although she had been standing next him for some time, she and Quentin barely spoke three sentences to each other, and she refused to let go of Lucas' hand. For the moment, Sophie felt like it was the only thing keeping her sane. Her pale, intense eyes had fallen on Pierce and Oliver numerous times, checking their behavioral status, and the tension between them was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. She wanted to cut Oliver with a knife, sometimes. It depended on her mood, actually; sometimes she would want him tied to a bed, other times she would want him strung up like a pig. She let out a breath and flexed her hand in Lucas' larger one. Like this, she almost felt like a little girl. At least things had been easier back then . . . Kind of. A voice dragged her out of her pain-induced daze. ❝Hey . . . um . . . How've you been holding up?❞ She looked up to see Freddie. For once, a face she didn't completely loath to see. Subconsciously, she let go of Lucas' hand. ❝Very tiredly.❞ she replied at first. An awkward silence began to build up and then she ran both hands through her long hair, and then winced at the pain it brought. ❝. . . Did I tell you that my parents are back in town?❞ Looking around, she checked to see if anyone might be watching, and then she reached for the buttons of her off-white shirt and un did a few of them with her bandaged fingers. It revealed a white tank top which she then pulled down to reveal her torso wrapped in white bandages; angry red marks were slightly visible over her shoulders and above her breasts. She glanced up to gauge his reaction, ❝They were delighted to see me.❞ ❝Nico,❞ Lucas began, ❝We are in public; you shouldn't show anyone that.❞ She sighed and then fixed herself to look socially-acceptable once more. ❝. . . Sorry. What about you? I kind of missed you.❞
Well, maybe it's not the music ( because it's actually pretty nice ), but in this situation, it's just kind of . . . . . . Yeah.
. . . What the fuck is with this music.
It looks pretty. . . . I hope it doesn't pull a Season 1.
⎝ DAY 1┊2/4 ⎞ ❧ ⎝ DATE┊MARCH 14TH ⎞ ❧ ⎝ LOCATION┊TRAIN STATION ⎞⎝ MOOD┊QUIET ⎞ ❧ ⎝ ❤??┊0% ⎞ ❧ ⎝ WEARING ⎞ ❧ ⎝ OOC┊SIGH. ⎞ Bryan hummed to himself tunelessly as he pulled up to the train station. Just as soon as he grabbed his bags, he spotted everyone and smiled more, despite himself. Things were . . . different, for him. Much instability in his personality had appeared over the last year, and it was only to be blamed on Noëlle's "death". He never took off the silver necklace, and couldn't be spotted without the green scarf. The GIFT TICKET was folded neatly in his wallet. He clinged to these things. To everything about her. From her. That was her. He might have actually kept her corpse under his bed if it wasn't so . . . against the law. A humorless laugh escaped his lips. Ahhh, I miss you. he thought to himself for the nth time. He grabbed his bags, half-wondering what was going to come of this trip. A part of him wanted all of this Bentley shit to be over with, but then the other part of him wanted to strangle, maim, slice, stab, torture, set on fire the people who had made his life hell. The worst part, besides himself, was Ms. Chambers, who had been in a complete state of denial for about two months. Bryan had come home from Harley's, finally, and she continued to believe that Noëlle was simply at a friend's house, too. Even when they had gone to the funeral, that closed-casket funeral, she still thought Noëlle wasn't even around. Bryan didn't know what to think, what to do. Ahhhh, man. he thought to himself, lazily. Jesus Christ, I miss you so fucking much. He adjusted his glasses. It still bugged him, that closed-casket funeral. They had never even gotten to actually view the body, mutilated or not — fuck that noise. In the back of his mind, there was a tiny light, so very tiny, that softly glowed and kept his hope that maybe . . . I wonder how many journals she kept. She had always loved journals, and it felt like she was getting new ones. He'd buy her one for her birthday, and she'd fill it up by the time Christmas came around, so he'd buy her another one, then. It was her most prized possession; one that even he was forbidden from looking through. He had found a few of them ( she probably had at least fifty ), and had been conflicted for many months on whether he should read them or not. . . . UNDISCLOSED INFORMATION.He didn't want any of the others to look his way, or even think about him as he appeared, so he slipped around them in a relatively subtle way, and then he spotted Julius. He and the professor had sort of bonded over their shared losses; Bryan had liked him before, but now, it was kind of different. Something much more deeper than that. Not a crush or anything, but . . . Eh. "Good morning, Julius." Bryan greeted quietly, pulling himself up to stand next to him. "Are you really down for this?"
⎛ DAY 1 ‖ 2/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ MARCH 14TH ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ TRAIN STATION ⎠⎛ MOOD ‖ IN PAIN ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ＷＡＳ ＩＴ ＳＯＭＥＴＨＩＮＧ ＬＩＫＥ ＦＡＴＥ？❞ ♡ ~ ✖ ~ ♡Quietly, Lucas nursed numerous wounds on Sophie's back as she winced and yelped. She felt so tired, and a lot of bullshit had taken place over the last few months. Life was becoming ridiculous, and to top it all off, both she and Lucas had a trial in just a few days. Spending time with Pierce, and very slowly, Quentin, was her only consolation. Her parents had been hysterical about the situation, and her mother carried out a very . . . severe tongue lashing. For once, Sophie had taken it. ❝There, you're done.❞ he murmured as he pulled himself out of the car. Lucas lent her his hand and he pulled her out and then helped her fix her top properly. ❝You shouldn't move around too much, otherwise the wound will open up again.❞ ❝I don't see what the point is of coming here.❞ she huffed as she fixed her sleeve. ❝I don't want to see any of these people, and I honestly doubt that they want to see me.❞ Lucas sighed and looked at her, ❝You're being awfully bratty today.❞ She glared at him. ❝I have a six-inch gash down my back, not to mention plenty of other cuts because my mother is an idiot. I think, over our last few months of being pressured and hounded on, I'm finally allowed a little freedom.❞ Sophie forcefully grabbed Lucas' hand, didn't look him in the eye and, with all of their things, they walked towards the group. The first thing she spotted was Oliver talking to Pierce. It was good to see her friend again, but since she was content with him, Sophie stood by and leaned on Lucas for support. Subconsciously, she had actually, somehow, found herself pretty much back-to-back with Pierce. . . . Going back to Bentley was not on the to-do list for Sophie. She didn't understand what compelled her to even come. Noëlle and Jonathan, on top of that, Elisa, they were all dead . . . It obviously wasn't a normal situation, and that town, and those people had something to do with it. Through rigorous amounts of sex and therapy with Lucas, Sophie had eventually gotten over what happened in both Lightbrook and her house. Much of her life had been normal, up until Camp Fortissimo 2013, and since then, the same people kept popping up and out of these terrible situations. Was it something like Fate? ❝U - Um . . . Do you - Do you want to . . . to um . . . s - sit with m - me . . . on th - the um . . . the train?❞ Her body numbed slightly at hearing the quiet and bashful words; she seemed to be fighting a losing battle, here. Sophie tightened her grip on Lucas' hand and decided that standing in the spot wasn't such a good idea. She moved past Oliver and Pierce and went to stand in a less secluded area, next to Quentin. Her back hurt.
Staring at the duck is making me laugh, for some reason. Probably because I'm sleep deprived.
This is probably the nicest computer I've ever been on.
I don't think I've ever posted in one of these before.
Can't it just be a free world where I can call everyone a filthy ****-eating mother****ing cocksucker without being oppressed by the temperamental filter?; n ; EDIT: AH PERFECT, COCKSUCKERS IS FREE. That's one of my favorite things to say when I stub my toe. Either that, or holy son of a ***** ****ing jesus over a couch on this earth. ; u ;
02 W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ PANICKING ✖ DAY 15 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/06/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ AIRPLANE [/url]The next thing she knew, Pretty Boy was in the seat next to her, hugging her. Always with the touchy-feely shit. But she could care less about it for the moment. He was here — he came for her. To help them. Ugh, these feeLINGS. ❝I CAN GET YOU OUT OF HERE, BUT I CAN ONLY TAKE THREE AT A TIME.❞ ❝That's fine!❞ she quickly replied to him, and began coordinating groups with him. The water was rushing at them too fast for comfort . . . ❝Ladies first, don't wait up!❞ Hay Sun whipped around to look at Dante, and — Red! He somehow got her out of her seat and — ❝RED!❞ Hay Sun exclaimed in a panic. By this time, Pretty Boy had taken the others, and she and Red were the only ones left, but now holding on for dear life, Red was slowly sliding out of the open door of the plane. Fuck this life, she thought to herself as she quickly undid her seat belt. Without another thought, she dove for Red and grasped onto her hand, and suddenly they were both flying towards the exit — no, out of the exit. Pretty Boy wasn't around. She was going to die. Holy fucking hell, this sucked some serious ass. There was a brief moment of peace to be had while they were on their way down. A moment where everything just sort of . . . faded away. Ah, if only all of life could be like that, y'know? Ahh, this was kind of nice. ❝HAY SUN!❞ A voice unpleasantly dragged her back to the reality that she was falling and that she was glued to Red's body in a tight death-grip. There was a swoop of their bodies and she felt her stomach drop monumentally. Her head really hurt, and then she looked up into the face of her savior. ❝Oh, it's you.❞ she blurted out, more shocked than anything else. Pretty Boy — err, Leon had her. He saved her ( and Re — err, Hana ). Her emotions swelled up and she felt herself dangerously on the verge of crying. A few long, emotional moments passed and Leon was setting them down. Hay Sun collapsed against a wall, with Red still gripped in her arms. She almost died. She began to cry.
07 W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I CMOOD ※ PANICKING ✖ DAY 15 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/06/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ AIRPLANE [/url] Her mind was in a complete whirlwind of possible solutions; they could jump out of the plane, but it would have to be timed correctly, right? They would die if it wasn't. That wasn't good enough for her. They could use the raft to hop onto and out of the plane, but there was no guarantee it would break their no-doubt long fall and save them . . .She looked to Red — what was she even doing? As a avid member of the god squad, shouldn't she be able to do something?! Tch, couldn't rely on h —❝Hay Sun!❞For some reason, she could hear Red's voice with perfect clarity, despite all of the chaos erupting around them. ❝Hay Sun, you need to call him! Call Leon!❞. . . Leon? Right, Pretty Boy's name. But she already tried to call him before, and nothing had happened. Somehow, she felt upset about that.❝I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE TO HELP YOU, SO LONG AS YOU ASK ME RIGHT . . .❞She perked up in her seat, half-calmed by the familiar voice that seemed to ring from all sides. Call him . . . right? What was that supposed to mean? She quickly went through her mind and dug for anything . . . He spoke in a distinct, really 'glowing' way. Ethereal, almost.That's it. she thought, looking across the chaotic path. God, this had better work. Uriel, are you there? I need you to — her mind went blank.❝I KNOW YOU ARE WATCHING, ARIEL,❞ Her voice was loud, echoing, standing, dominating over the chaos, ❝THIS FORM IS NOT CURRENTLY FIT TO PRODUCE THE MIRACLES TO SAVE THE LIVES OF THESE PEOPLE, AND I REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE. I AM ASKING YOU, ARIEL, PLEASE HELP ME — HELP US.❞She sucked in a breath and felt completely dizzy, ❝Pretty Boy, please . . . ❞
14W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I CMOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 15 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/06/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ AIRPORT • ALBANY, NY [/url] Hay Sun had to admit, she didn't like airplanes, but this was kind of better than being suddenly whisked away by some pretty stranger she barely knew. Dante had tried to talk to her earlier, at Starbucks, but she kind of shrugged him off. The only good thing to come of the conversation was learning his name, finally.She had been in a relative daze for most of the beginning of the ride, until they announced that it was two hours until London. Hah. How strange; London. She had always wanted to go traveling, she guessed.The plane shook a little, and it was announced that there was turbulence. Oh, that was fine. Ish. Until the plane began to react more violently, and then something on the outside snapped. Oh, holy hell. That was the plane.. . . And now it was going down. She looked up at the others who were beginning to panic as well. Uh, fuck. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't just randomly teleport whenever the fuck she wanted to. I could use some help here, Uriel! she cried in her head, but they - it - he wasn't responding. What a fucking great time for this.Ah, hell. What could she do - what could they all do? They could jump out, but they'd have to time it right! Hey, Pretty Boy, a little help here would be nice! she thought in a rush, hating herself for even thinking out to him. As if he could hear here anyway . . . Fuck, I didn't sign up for this.
MAIN OBJECTIVE: GET OUT OF THE BUILDING! SIDE OBJECTIVE: GET TO KNOW THE LITTLE GIRL! GAME SAVED !! ⇒ Observe the room. 7 : 0 1 REMAINS You take this moment to check the room you've fallen into. It's rather minimally designed, and there's a single window parallel to the queen-sized bed. In the corner, there's a chair with a stuffed animal on it that you guess belongs to Jaynabelle. Diagonal from the bed is a . . . door. Hey, hang on just a damned minute. This is the room I woke up in! you think to yourself, and turn on the loli. The nonexistent audience gasps with shock. You were here all along?! you say to her, and her face contorts in confusion, startled by the tone of your voice. Aw hell, she's going to cry now. She's saying something through her growing sobs, but you can't really understand what it is. You don't have time for this — the both of you have really gotta get out of here! Ouch! She's crying really loud . . . Ah, fuck. You cover your ears, you feel like your head is going to explode. Sonic crying, who knew. You've got to think of something fast. ❝W h a txwill you do?❞ ♐ Wait for the crying to subside. ♐ Pick up the brat and go through the only door in the room. ♐ Comfort Jaynabelle.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 15 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/06/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ AIRPORT • ALBANY, NY [/url]Hay Sun had kept her distance from the others all morning. Even sitting down in the boarding area, she had kept a few seats down from them. Her mind kept cycling from the dreams that she was a time-bomb, or that they were leaving her. She didn't need their company, not on any level, but . . . It was unnerving. It had probably been triggered by last night, she thought, when they did leave her and that weird teleportation shit happened. Why was she here again? . . . Right, Pretty Boy wanted her to be here. Still, she wasn't so sure she wanted to stay. Things were moving fast, and she didn't even know if she could rely on these people. She glanced over at Red and Sam in particular. Well, if she did want to leave, she was at an airport. Ugh, they had been waiting here forever, it felt like. Hay Sun was on her feet in an instant, removing her black coat and stretching. She pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and kneaded out her shoulders and arms from being immobile too long. She was definitely sore, but at least it didn't hurt like yesterday. ❝I'm gonna grab a snack,❞ Hay Sun said to Red before walking off. She kind of wanted some coffee, but the only available coffee here was Starbucks. Americans. she thought to herself, rolling her eyes. Her father's coffee was definitely better than their's, but she couldn't deny that she had come to the café once or twice and didn't have a favorite. And it was just as unhealthy in France as it was in America. She walked into the store with her hands in her pockets and ordered coffee with a slice of lemon pound cake. She had to admit, the aroma of the store was soothing to her wound up nerves. Hay Sun took her seat in a corner table and began to relax. Maybe she should write . . . But she left her journal back in the waiting area. SIGH. If only someone could bring it to her. Hay Sun kind of felt lazy.
