| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. |

Stare
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and i will hold you tight / like the moon in the arms of the sky

| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 23, 2011 14:08:08 GMT -5

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Post by Stare on Jan 23, 2011 14:08:08 GMT -5

Now there's peace in all the land,
And over the deep blue sea.

My mouth drops open, and my stomach lurches. As it tightens, I feel something that burns like acid racing up my throat and pooling into my mouth. My jaw shuts so hard, I bite the inside of my cheek, and blood joins the terrible taste. It takes a huge effort to swallow, and as I do, my eyes wander back upward. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

Someone is dead. As in, dead. Lifeless. They're cold body is dangling above me. I wait for someone to come out smiling, explaining to whole joke, and how they did it. Laughing with us. But no one comes out. No one laughs. Everyone just stares in horror.

This is a wedding. Weddings are supposed to be happy. With flower petals and pretty dresses and romance in the air. I've wanted to go to a wedding all my life. The ones in my books seem so amazing and happy. This is definately not happy. The chill in the air freezes my blood. My heart seems to turn to stone.

It takes all my effort not to screech for someone to get me out of here. I grib the side of Yucca's chair, my eyes wide. The blood makes me feel sick all over again. Tears threaten to come, but I force them out. I left my knife at home. I didn't think I'd need it at the wedding. After all, who would suspect that there would be a murderer here? The word murderer really makes it hard not to just huddle on the floor and cry.

I don't want to be murdered. Although, thinking about it, who would really care? No parents. No friends, except maybe Yucca. And she's got just as much a chance of living as me...

No. I'm am not going to let Yucca die. If one of us deserves to live, it's her. After all, she's got a family. And probably friends. And a life to live far away from this horrifying, awful place. I have to comfort her. To let her know that she's going to be okay, even if I'm not too sure of that fact.

Shaking fingers run up and down her arm soothingly. "It's going to be okay, Yucca. You'll be fine."

I drop of blood splatters on my shoulder. My stomach pulls inward, and I fight to keep my back straight. I'm not going to scare Yucca. She's in a terrible state as it is. And no one deserves to see this sight. Especially not her.

"Don't look at her, Yucca," I whisper, taking my own advice. "You'll be okay. I'll protect you. You're going to be just fine."

If only I knew that for sure.

[/color][/size][/blockquote][/justify]

gxk
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When in doubt flail it out

| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 23, 2011 18:18:40 GMT -5

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Post by gxk on Jan 23, 2011 18:18:40 GMT -5

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Nyx felt as if the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. The chill of death filled the space. A teenager hung dead above their table. Her blood dripping onto the table, food, and even on Paisley... Wait Paisley? Her eyes widened ever so slightly, her roommate just got blood split on her head. This was a strange place, and there didn't seem to be any escape in sight. They were trapped on a god forsaken island with a psychopathic murderer. Perfect. Maybe her career training wasn't going to go to waste after all. If the killer ever went for her she had a better chance than most to get away alive. No one was safe. Anyone could be the killer, anyone could be the next victim. No one but the murder himself/herself knew who was the next target. Was their a pattern? Or was it random? What sort of weapons do they have at their disposal? Obviously they at least had a sharpened knife... The odd thing about the murder was that no one had any idea who it was. There was no smoking gun, nothing to point one in the right direction. Nothing but the strung up body of Rebecca Drake that was still dangling over the dinning table.

"That's just fucking gross. Fresh blood all over the food... The heck is all this shit? Some kind of sick joke?"

Nil... Something about her had rubbed Nyx the wrong way right of the bat, now she was sure there was something she didn't like about the girl from Seven. Everyone else had put down their food, rightfully so, this was no time to go on eating when a girl was dead and bleeding on the food. If it didn't bother her emotionally one would think she would at least stop eating for sanitary purposes. Prehaps miss Nil was the killer. She seemed to be having the mildest reaction to the dead girl. Acting almost as if she were something that could just be cleaned up so that everyone could move on and forget about it. You don't forget about things like this. These are the kinds of things that become the first thing you see when you wake up in the morning, and the last thing you see before you go to bed at night. It haunts you... All of the guests who saw her would be haunted by Rebecca Drake's image, so long as they had a soul. Nyx was pretty comfortable with the idea of death, having been raised as a career. But this crossed a line that should never be crossed. This was murder without a purpose.

Gathering up her thoughts Nyx finally came around enough to try and reach outside her mind. With a deep breath she made her way over to where Paisley stood, grabbing a napkin on her way there. Pais couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen years old by the looks of it. This was hard for anyone to handle, never mind someone so young. Carefully she offered the napkin to Paisley, to try and wipe some of the blood off her hair. "This is pretty frigging weird. What a way for someone to go... It's like things you only read about in horror stories." Her voice was dry and broken, still not recovered from first catching sight of the dangling corpse. Still seeing her roommate here was somewhat calming in a way. Since meeting Paisley Nyx had taken a peculiar interest in the girl. It was hard for her to explain or justify, it was something that just happened. Like the fact that she was relieved it was Rebecca and not Paisley who hung there as the murderer's trophy. Nyx hadn't connected as much with Silver for one reason or another. Maybe because she and Silver were from such different worlds? Both had suffered, but in completely different ways. "You hanging in there alright kid? This is creepy as hell, even for me."

Blue eyes darted to Yucca, she was having a real break down over this. Probably realizes this could have been any of us. Silver was trying to comfort her. But for all any of us now for sure, Silver could be the killer. Not likely, but a possibility. Though Nyx wasn't sure that Silver would be strong enough to cause such a large neck wound and then hang the body off a chandelier. It would take someone with a good deal of strength to lift someone that high and tie them to the light fixture. Not to mention it would have to be someone with an iron gut. Silver didn't come off as that type, Paisley either. No, Nyx's attention still remained on Nil as the killer. Working in D7 would have given her the strength to commit the crime, and her reaction didn't fit that of an innocent person. Her thoughts ran wildly through her mind, wracking every corner of her brain for any idea as to what was going on here. Nothing added up. Two plus two did not equal four on this island.

Nyx took a deep heaving breath, trying to stop her head from spinning out of control. She reached out putting a hand on Paisley's shoulder. Partly to support herself, as well as the girl. There was nothing she could do to ensure her own safety, never mind anyone else's. But it was the thought that counted. Even the walk back to the rooms would be potential lethal, and sleeping was out of the question. They would have to work out shifts or something. Some stay up and keep watch while the others slept. It was impossible for anyone to stay up forever. Even restless sleep was better than no sleep at all. Nyx had been put in a situation where letting the inner career come out to play very well might be her only way to get off this hell hole island alive. The hard part would be putting that career back under lock and key, if she ever did get out of here. She had tried to rid herself of that part of her four years ago, but it never truly went away. It was always there, deep down in the darkest pits of her being.

Last Edit: Jan 24, 2011 19:28:05 GMT -5 by gxk

EVELANCHE WUHH?
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| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 25, 2011 16:19:18 GMT -5

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Post by EVELANCHE WUHH? on Jan 25, 2011 16:19:18 GMT -5

PAISLEY ARMANDA BRIDGENNE // WHAT'S HER SONG?

^{The area of her hair that had been matted by blood was certainly not large in amount, but it was more Paisley had needed to feel dribble across her locks. She shuddered instinctively, quickly wiping the blood on the tablecloth and looking up. Above her, perhaps a couple inches to the right, hung a girl. Though she was held there by a rope, hanging was obviously not the cause of death. There was enough blood to hide any other stab wounds, but it was evident that her throat was slit.

Paisley had never been close to death. She heard about it all around her. A friend's distant relative or a friend of a friend of a friend. She had never seen a dead body, apart from perhaps the carcass of a rat in her basement. These alarmed Pais, but didn't really disturb them. Life had a cycle, and if starvation was thrown in with the loop, so be it. But the thirteen year old had never been so close that if she could stand on a table, maybe at a chair, that she could completely touch death.

Paisley felt her mind start to panic. Someone-dead? No. Not possible. But there was an absense of panic, lack of insanity there. There was nothing to truly indicate that Paisley was afraid. Her heart was beating at a steady pace, and though her head wanted to think fast - go crazy - like everyone else had, Paisley's neccessary instinct began to kick in. Look for an answer, Paisley, it told her. You were never one to freak out before, why should now be any different? Even at two or three, Paisley was unflappable. She had broken bones, broken hearts, but nothing that could make the girl abandon common sense. Sure, the cushy life could leave room for reservation in one's existance, but just because Pais didn't live in scum didn't mean she couldn't stand strong.

Paisley looked from the body, to all around her. Shit. Other than the blood coating the table, there wasn't any other indication of evidence, at least not open to plain sight. Whatever, she thought, someone would take care of this. Now wasn't the time to play detective, problem solve like on the worksheets she did in school. That wouldn't help her here. She was young, just a kid. People would laugh at her like a toddler if she brought anything up. Thirteen year olds weren't meant to be taken seriously.

"This is pretty frigging weird. What a way for someone to go... It's like things you only read about in horror stories." Paisley heard Nyx say as she walked over to her. The girl smilied graciously but nodded with doubt. To hell if she knew what was going on here. But come to think of what Nyx had said, this was fucking disturbing. "You hanging in there alright kid? This is creepy as hell, even for me."

Pais was fine. Any normal thirteen year old would've fainted, trying to get a guy's attention or whatever the fuck other screwed up teens would do. But Pais was perfectly fine. "Yeah," Pais said. She was fine. She didn't know how or why, but she was. "This is like the Hunger Games, but worse. Without honor," she said quietly, in a random statement. But there was a fault in that. There was one death, not twenty three. "The way she died, brutal" she added, correcting herself.

"Oh," Pais said quietly, wondering about her parents. Parents was a strong word. They were more like guardians. The connection wasn't there. They didn't exactly guide her. They weren't good enough for that. They were like mindless little puppets, who loved Paisley and spoil her, and would do whatever their daughter wanted. They thought they were in control, treating their gorgeous little girl like a doll. But it was never that way. It never would be. Pais was far from the innocent little doll they thought she was. Anmd then they got lazy. They'd still coo mindlessly and they thought their daughter was invincible. So invincible that they could forget her birthday, that they could leave for two weeks without warning, and that she'd still be okay. But as crazy as they were, they were her parents. And where were they?

Knowing her mother, she'd probably be off ecstatically screaming about a theory she had, unless she was moping to herself. She was like that. And her dad... Wait - where was her dad? The one who scared away the ghosts at bedtime when Paisley was three. The one who got her to do a backdive off the docks and painted her the meadow and put it in her bedroom. That dad. It's funny how he could leave for two weeks and he would be totally dismissed, yet she couldn't find him now and the world was crashing down on her. he wasn't in this room. No stunningly vibrant white hair and odd fashion sense. Nothing of the sort around (Except for that albino boy freaking out against the wall. The white hair was there.)

"Where's my dad?" Pais asked quietly, intending it for Nyx but still looking around curiously. Though it would've been brought wildly to any other little girl whose parents had gone astray, Pais wasn't that little girl. Sometimes Paisley wished she could be, though. Sometimes, the little girl that Paisley was was scary.}

black&yellow

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| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 25, 2011 22:14:36 GMT -5

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Post by shrimp on Jan 25, 2011 22:14:36 GMT -5

qilena emiliana zwarck
YOUR ACTIONS - aa5544 / YOUR VOICE - ddbb99
YOUR MEMORIES - 778855 / YOUR SONG - cc9966

Your eyes flutter open as you hear a noise. A bit groggy, you lie in bed for a few minutes, watching as time seems to float by. You wonder where the hell you are, and start to sit up, when you hear a squeaky intercom announcement. Oh. That's where you are. Wonderful. Yawning for a second, you turn to look at the girl next to you. Who is this again? Your brain is attempting to figure this out when you absentmindedly rub your neck, to feel something strange. What? You slowly get up, at the same time that you remember the girl's name. Gabby.

Hopefully, you didn't disturb the girl from her sleep, as you go to look for a mirror in the room. Is there one here... No, there isn't. Sighing, you grab a light robe, and walk to the bathroom across the hall. Wandering over to the mirror, you pause to look at your reflection. The first reaction is confusion. Then, you simply think The girl likes it rough, doesn't she, and think no more about it. However, it is a rather deep bite, so you remind yourself to find some bandages later on in the evening. But perhaps it should be disinfected. You do feel rather dirty and sweaty, for multiple reasons, so perhaps a shower wouldn't be so bad.

The empty showers are unnerving to you, for the room is relatively dark. The lights aren't working either, so you have to simply take a shower in the dark. Slowly, you strip off the robe, looking around for a bit. The Career training has made you cautious, perhaps overly so, and for a second you think you spot someone lurking in the shadows. You jump for a second, but realize that it's just a shower curtain... Hopefully. Eventually, the warm water's turned on, and you hum a bit as you lather the soap onto your face, etc.

But what was that? A noise? The sound of a footstep echoing in the halls? Chills run up your spine. You've never really preferred being alone. It always makes you rather upset, for you feel that the slightest movement or sound is some drug dealer trying to rape you, or torture you into submission. Slowly, you grab the nearest weapon; a shampoo bottle, and wait for a noise. The only thing you can hear however, is the shower. "Gabby?" You ask. "Is that you?" No answer. Wait. There it is again! A few noises this time, only closer. Softer. Yet you can practically feel the floor resonate with sound. Fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuck.... you think, as you grip the shower curtain tentatively, ready to swing it open, and throw the bottle at whatever is there. You're ready to smack the assailant - kill it, even. Especially if it tries to attack you.

Wait for it... NOW! You throw the shower curtain open, and throw the shampoo bottle towards the source of the sound, screaming. But it's just dark - nobody's in here. Unless... What if they hid in one of the showers? Waiting... Ready to go and jump you? You feel that you've showered enough, so you turn off the water, and tentatively step outside, waiting once more for something... Anything, to let you know that you're not just imagining things...

Not a sound is made.

The rest of the time is spent drying yourself, donning the robe, looking for the source of the sound. Is it possible that you imagined it? Of course it is, you took some drugs. But it seemed so real... You manage to get back to the room relatively unscathed, and grab another dress - a long, black, flowing one with white accents, as well as some white high heeled shoes. You haven't looked at the bed yet; you don't want to unnerve your latest "playmate". Perhaps she's uncomfortable about her body when the drugs die down. Whatever.

"We should go, Gabby. It's dinner time."

You're ready now, so you simply walk to the door, and wait for your companion to be ready. But you still can't shake the feeling that something... someone...

Is out to get you.

[/size][/blockquote][/justify]

Last Edit: Jan 25, 2011 22:15:34 GMT -5 by shrimp

phunke

guest

| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 26, 2011 0:16:55 GMT -5

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Post by phunke on Jan 26, 2011 0:16:55 GMT -5

{[Text EEE87D
{[Speech B26363

Absentmindedly holding a lock of blonde hair between your thumb and forefinger so that you can watch through half-lidded eyes the sunbeam that filters through it, you relax into the bed and think about absolutely nothing at all. Because you're Evelyn Mardonne, and sometimes thinking just isn't worth the, like, effort. Yet it's late afternoon, and although you've been staring at the pretty yellowish glow around the hair for quite some time now, you suppose it's probably time to eat something. Eating used to be like thinking - an activity that you didn't really bother to take part in. But then you got hungry, so that phase lasted all of about twelve minutes. Plus, that was back when you were, like, fourteen. Luckily, you've totally matured a lot since then; you recognize that eating is a social event, so it has many implications beyo--omigod what shoes are you going to wear? It's obvious that you'll be going in your striped top and daisy dukes, but seriously, you have like five different shoes that go with that outfit!
Ten minutes later, you stride confidently down the hall, careful that the thin [five-inch] heels on your canary yellow pumps don't catch on the carpet. Tripping is generally not attractive, you think. You open the door and pause just a fraction of a second with your hips to one side, dramatically enforcing your entrance before you've even entered. Nobody seems to notice though, which bothers you. You're the bride here! Hell-ooooo, this is your event, they should be paying attention to you. It's not like anyone in here is that interesting anyway. The whole dinner looks drab and generally non-fabulous. Plus, everyone's all hushed and tense. God, Lucan's friends are so weird. Oh well. You're not getting married to have sex with them.

Gracefully taking your seat, you smile widely. Dinners are so totally fun. Especially in these shoes - you smile even more happily, safe in the knowledge that you picked the absolute perfect footwear for the occasion. God, you are seriously talented at this.
"So-o, what's up? You liking the dinner? This food looks yummy," you babble to the girl sitting to your right. Most unfortunately, she seems not to notice. This bothers you and you look around, trying to find a conversational partner who will be more, like, interesting. Suddenly you realize everyone seems to be looking up, so you do too (always best to imitate what other people are doing at these kinds of things, obvs. You don't want to stick out). Oh! There's a girl on the chandelier. What a weirdo. "I swear, some of the wackos that come to stuff like this...am I right?" you ask loudly, giggling as you look to the people around you for some sort of response. But you don't really feel like waiting for them anyhow. Might as well try to convince this oddball to join the party. Tilting your head back, you address the chick, your voice getting slightly higher with the increased volume.
"Hey, uh, whoev--girl up there? Yeah, why are you on the chandelier? You're not really s'posed to climb on the stuff at fancy places like these. It's pretty dumb. Sooo, if you could like, maybe come down? That'd be great, thanks!"
Phew. Good thing you got that over with. No one around here is any good at taking initiative, and they're all supposed to be like, older and responsibler and stuff! Obviously they can't take initiative to get stuff done. Whatevers. It's over with.
"Dig in!" you proclaim cheerily, leaning forward to load your plate with food before it gets cold. Everything looks delicious (are green beans usually red? Probably some weird island tradition or something).

Last Edit: Jan 26, 2011 0:22:21 GMT -5 by phunke

gxk
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When in doubt flail it out

| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 27, 2011 8:08:51 GMT -5

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Post by gxk on Jan 27, 2011 8:08:51 GMT -5

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The mood in the dinning hall was a strange mixture of terror and disbelief. Things like this don't happen. They just don't. Well at least in Nyx's experience they didn't, but she hadn't been to very many weddings in her lifetime. Her own wedding had been very simple, not nearly as big a deal as this. Mr.Dymock had wanted a huge party for his daughter. The very thought of it sent waves of bitterness through her. He hadn't cared about how she was feeling, he just wanted to show off that his daughter was marrying another powerful ex-career. He had gone on and on about how he would train his grand kids to be even better careers than their parents. It was never about me. Everything he does has to benefit him in some way. I hate that bastard and mom wasn't any frigging better. Pale fingers curled into fists, nails digging into palms. Frustration wasn't something Nyx enjoyed feeling, but it often the case. Since she had been widowed she had been trying to make things work on her own. It was a great improvement from Elian and her father, but still demons from her past gripped her tightly. Breaking free of them had become nothing more than a futile hope.

Nothing. Nyx had run through so many emotions over the dead girl hanging above them that there was nothing left to feel. Deep blue eyes looked at the face of the dead girl one more time. The wound on the neck was still oozing blood, the rope around her neck was digging in to her flesh causing lacerations. Someone did not want this girl to see another day. If by some miracle she hadn't been dead after the neck wound(an utter impossibility), then the hanging would have finished the job. The image of someone dragging Rebecca's corpse and hanging it from the chandelier played again in Nyx's mind. Only this time it wasn't paired with paranoia, but instead a cautious curiosity. Who did it? Was the question on everyone's mind. Nyx wasn't foolish enough to let her guard down with a killer on the loose, but a sense of calm had set in. There was nothing she could accomplish by wasting her energy in a panicked frenzy. This is where her father's lessons came to play. Wiping one's mind of everything except common sense and strategy. Although the protective feeling over Paisley refused to leave her alone. Why did she care so much? Nyx didn't have the answer.

"Yeah."

Another oddity the twenty-two year old picked up on was Pais's calmness. She looked pretty okay for seeing what she had. The girl appeared to have nerves of steel. She was holding it together far better than most of the adults. Nyx had to admit she was impressed in a strange sort of way. "This is like the Hunger Games, but worse. Without honor... Paisley seemed to pause for a moment before adding, "The way she died, brutal" she added, correcting herself. Very insightful for a young teenager. Able too look upon a murder and relate it to the fates of many children of Panem. And she was right. There was no honor, not an once of glory in dying the way Rebecca did. It was a defilement of the life of someone so young. An absolutely brutal way to go. Nyx quietly wondered to herself what Rebecca may have been thinking in her last moments. With a nod she found her voice again, "You're right. This is a murder with no honor at all. Rebecca was attacked and killed at a wedding, then hung for all of us to see, it doesn't get much worse than that." Her quiet tone matched that of Paisley's. Nyx had no intention of attracting any attention to herself. Really she was never a people person, she just wanted to be left alone unless she deemed someone fit to be tolerate. Or in this case, it was a welcomed company she revived from the girl who was nine years younger than her.

"Where's my dad?"

Paisley was looking around for her father. Maybe he wasn't the best parent but he was her dad. That was all Nyx could figure. When she was thirteen things hadn't been as bad between her and her father, they got worse as she got older. But come to think of it, she had seen Pais's mother, but hadn't seen her father since the crowded ship ride. "I haven't seem him since the boat ride..." Nyx froze for a moment, with Rebecca's body dangling eerily above the table she couldn't help but think that maybe Ms.Drake wasn't the first victim after all. Where else could Paisley's father be? Surely he would have made some effort to catch up with his daughter and wife once they arrived on the island. Maybe it was only a matter of time before his body was discovered. And just guessing from the scene left by Rebecca's murder, the killer had a thing for blood. It would be a sight that may get more of a reaction from Paisley. It also hinted that if her father was also killed, the killer either was strong enough to take out a full grown man, or was excellent at killing victims with the element of surprise. Nyx tried to keep her suspicion from her voice, but was only so successful, "Have you seem him since the boat? Or has your mom seen him?

Her mouthed was quickly shut when the young bride-to-be walked in. She seemed oblivious to everyone's fear and anxiety over the murder of one of the other guests. Nyx couldn't help but find the blond rather stupid as she rambled on about dinner. Finally Lucan's fiancée noticed the dangling body, but failed to realize that Rebecca is dead. She was asking a dead body to get off the chandelier. Blood everywhere, noose around the next, it was plain to see that the girl she was 'talking' to was gone. If she didn't seem like such a moron Nyx might suspect her as a possible killer. Maybe this was all an act, but she seemed far to good at being a fool. She cheered for them to dig in, but Nyx made no move for her food. It was soaked in blood now anyway. Her eyes shifted from Evelyn to Paisley and back again. Things had just gotten a little bit awkward in here. She shot a look of disgust at the bride, "One of your guests is hanging dead from a chandelier, that's what all the fuse is about. Someone killed her. Her voice was a shocked and disdainful whisper. This was unbelievable.

sadniss everdeen
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| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 28, 2011 0:07:23 GMT -5

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Post by sadniss everdeen on Jan 28, 2011 0:07:23 GMT -5

Gabrielle Bellamonte

Normal - A0CFEC -------- Speaking - 737CA1
Paranoia - 4E9258 ------- Vampiric - E55B3C

~ At times it's just easier to pretend. ~

embrasser, te mordre en même temps
enfoncer mes ongles dans ton dos brûlant
te supplier de me revenir
et tout faire ô tout pour te voir partir
[/i]

It was the bloodcurdling scream that snapped you from the comfortable void between sleep and thought. Each nerve converges upon each other in a violent orgasm of electrifying intensity, and you don't even realize you've got up on all fours until your nails throb from being curled so hard into the soft mattress. Your skin prickles along the serpentine arch of your delicate spine, heart thrumming an erratic staccato beat and ears straining to find the slightest discrepancy in the deafening silence. Moments later a shampoo bottle goes soaring above your head, and it's only your severely overburdened reflexes that allow you to duck. You give out a strangled shriek and duck down, instinctively rolling onto the ligneous flooring in an attempt to shield your small frame from further attack.

Yet, it never comes. There is the quiet patter of feet and only when the shower stops its melodic song upon the tiles do you dare to look over. A flash of blonde hair, and moments later a stunning girl - woman - emerges into view that quite possibly short-circuits the connections in your mind

and allows all the sordid feelings from the few hours before to trickle inside with lucid flashbacks. A smug smirk crawls along the smoothness of your lips, and your eyes rake greedily along her bare form. Why in the world are you on the ground? Crawling back into bed, you drape the sheet across your form and lazily watch her with one eye open from your white-washed perch; noting that she appears slightly shaken. Perhaps that's why the bottle now lays discarded at the corner of the room.

"We should go, Gabby. It's dinner time." You groan at that unwelcome fact - already your frame is screaming for yet another round - but it's hard to resist her in that fitting dress that shows just the right amounts of everything. "Are you sure you don't want to play?" You purr sultrily, batting your eyelashes. Yet you know that this is a necessary evil, and sigh after a few moments. Languorously stretching yourself out on the covers, you roll to the side with an irritated grumble. "Fine, give me a few minutes."

You have to admit the showers are extremely unnerving as you finish the world's quickest clean up, drying out your hair and wrapping yourself in a fuzzy towel. For a moment you glance at the mirror and note the various marks that cover your body - you shudder unwillingly as one finger traces what looks like nail-marks. The hell did you do yesterday? However, you already have an idea. A quick glance at the woman waiting for you (Qilena, was it?), the destroyed bed and the clothes still scattered around the floor, you've had enough experience with these past lapses in thought to understand what you both did just a few hours ago. It makes you want to blush crimson, but instead you strut outside and begin to pull on some clothes.

After deliberation you settle on a clinging dress that settles a little higher than your knees, with stripes of color marring the otherwise pristine onyx surface. Giving a dazzling smile, you gesture to the door. "I'm ready. Shall we?"

---

The dining room is huge and your eyebrows shoot upwards at the ornate flooring and carefully planned furniture. It's as if you've walked into a fairy-tale, charming princess by your side and everything. Food steams upon massive tables, and you had earlier seen the butlers waiting just outside the food. People are decked in their finest clothing, yet; it's not right. Their faces are almost all tense and eyes riveted to a singular spot, so your gaze in turn travels slowly up to the spiralling ceiling. You take in the body with a second of disbelief, before all the color drains from your face. "Holy shit." Your voice murmurs quietly without your explicit consent.

Blood. [/blockquote][/size]

Last Edit: Jan 28, 2011 12:51:10 GMT -5 by sadniss everdeen

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| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Jan 30, 2011 22:54:23 GMT -5

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Post by shrimp on Jan 30, 2011 22:54:23 GMT -5

qilena emiliana zwarck
YOUR ACTIONS - aa5544 / YOUR VOICE - ddbb99
YOUR MEMORIES - 778855 / YOUR SONG - cc9966

With Gabrielle in tow, you walk towards the dining hall, hoping that Lucan and Evelyn (you'll say it once, you'll say it again. PEDOPHILIA.) won't be too mad at the two of you for being so late to the dinner. As you pass the showers on your way to the dining hall, a shiver runs through you, almost as if whatever was in there was following you. But you push that aside, and simply walk faster, away from the dark room.

Your paranoia is pretty much gone as you head towards the dining hall. In fact, you're feeling pretty damn happy now - you'll get to eat something, maybe even drink a few more glasses of champagne; you're not under the effects of a hangover because you only had one glass of rum, so you're free to drink as much as you please, really. However, the drugs are still a factor that you're not ruling out, so you'll have to be rather cautious about what you'll say or do, you guess.

As the doors open your eyes widen with shock. The place is absolutely stunning, and there is a whole shit-load of food just lying on the table for all to gorge on. However, none of them are really eating, just sitting there quietly, or throwing up... What's going on? It seems to you that the only happy one here is the bride, who's telling everyone to dig in. You hear a woman say something, and you have to strain to hear.

"One of your guests is hanging dead from a chandelier, that's what all the fuse is about. Someone killed her."

Your mouth drops open at the exact same time that Gabby says "Holy shit.", and you pause to hesitantly look up at the ceiling. "Oh my god..." You whisper, your hand flying towards your mouth. Who... Who could have done this sort of thing? Well, obviously it could have been any of you; you're all careers, or washed-out careers. They could be anyone... Anywhere. Your mind goes back to the episode in the shower, and then you're positive that someone was there, waiting for the right moment. I could have been dead, you think.

I could have been murdered.

You have enough sense to head towards the crowd. If the killer's here, surely they wouldn't attack somebody in the open. No - they'll attack the ones that are isolated from another, the ones who are alone. And you do not want to be alone. Not now, not ever. And not until you get the fuck off of this godforsaken island.

[/size][/blockquote][/justify]

cameron
Retired Staff

1,837 POSTS
Pronouns: all spoken with respect
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MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Feb 1, 2011 23:18:54 GMT -5

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Post by cameron on Feb 1, 2011 23:18:54 GMT -5

Lucan shuffled his feet along the path from his room to the dining hall. Having just finished a chance sexual encounter with a man he had never expected to hook up with, the tall blonde's breaths came out rather rapidly and the pants he had pulled on before exiting the room seemed all too restricting in a certain area. It was possible he had accidentally grabbed Mayson's pants instead of his own. Unsure what exactly was the problem, the man reached his hand down and grabbed at the fabric, attempting to loosen the strain.

As he came closer to the dining hall the Hale twin heard a loud scream from inside and a few shrieks and yells that came after. His heart jumped and for the second time that day it skipped a beat—this time, however, wasn't in a pleasurable manner. In moments his feet were moving swiftly down the pathway, slamming the dining hall doors open as he reached them. Stepping in the building, he could smell horror all around him. With a short-lived glance upwards, Lucan Allen Hale saw a young girl hanging from a rope on a chandelier. Blood had poured out of her body and onto the table and floor below. He cringed, falling backwards and leaning against the wall. His eyes went dark and spotches of reds and blues began conjuring in front of him. The dizziness was overwhelming; he had never seen anything like this and he was in complete shock. A cold breeze blew down his neck from an overhead air vent. Trying to get over himself, he willed his eyes to open for one quick second as he saw the girl still hanging there.

So he wasn't dreaming, then. This was real. And this was bad.

Eventually the boy was able to open his eyes. He had a feeling someone had been talking to him, but his headache had prevented any voices from being heard. There was a slight ringing in his ears he was unaware of, but it slowly wore away as he stepped forward and walked toward the rest of the wedding guests. Seeing his soon-to-be-wife, Lucan put his arm out towards her and was about to comfort her when there was a choking sound. He turned sharply to see where it was coming from and he saw an even younger girl than the one above him holding her throat and coughing on what was presumably a cream puff. Lucan began to walk towards her when the lights went completely out.

Darkness. Everything was dark now, and whatever monster did that to the girl could be eviscerating some random guest—including his ~~Mayson~~ ~~Amadi~~ Evelyn—and there was nothing he could do about it. The realization that he was virtually useless at this point in time caused him to take deeper breaths. Did he even have a point living at all?

And then the lights returned, and there were sighs of relief all around. But Lucan's eyes had still been on the young girl choking, and the first thing he noticed was that she was no longer there. Bolting forward, he looked frantically all around but she was nowhere in sight. Turning to ask if anyone else had seen her, his blue ovals found her instead. Only, this time, her neck was covered in blood and there was a deep slit where her throat should be. Bits of blood-soaked cream puff emerged from the open neck wound, tainting the dessert. A gasp escaped Lucan's lungs, and he started to alert someone of the dead girl, whose limp body was under the dinner table, but then the lights went away once more.

Before he even noticed the darkness this time a light had erupted from the far side of the room, though it was no ordinary light. The bright oranges and reds that made up the light started at the entrance to the dining hall, spreading onto the walls and lighting up the entire place. A cold draft blew on his forehead from above, but it went unnoticed by Lucan as he called out as loud as he could, "FIRE!"

Yes, so, another character died in this thread. The member who plays this character has already been alerted and will be making a death post soon.

In the meantime, the dining hall is on fire. Everyone that is attending dinner must attempt to find a way to escape without dying. You must PM me what your character would do to escape in this situation, and I will PM you back the results of your character's action. It's a typical building, so just imagine what any building would look like on fire and put your character in that position.

Depending on what your character does and/or luck, your character will live to see another dieay, be burned alive, or something else. Yeah.

So get to those PMs!

Spesh
Capitol Resident

1,143 POSTS
last seen Oct 22, 2023 19:21:42 GMT -5

being old af

| .. Dinner Will Be §erved Cold .. | Feb 2, 2011 11:15:45 GMT -5

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Post by Spesh on Feb 2, 2011 11:15:45 GMT -5

Mahi Fisher

One might find it quite ironic how this skinny, rich girl died. Choking on a cream puff, something that implies to others 'look, I'm fat'. Sure someone had slit her throat, or it appeared that way, but that was probably better. She got killed instead of dying on her own accord, maybe that was an awful thing to think, but as someone that young, she much rather would have died because of somebody else and not herself. Still, it would have been quite embarrassing to Mahi if she lived after almost dying because she choked on a cream puff. If they ever found the killer, obviously her dad would sue, but that was unlikely, Mahi was killed in the dark, nobody saw who did it. She died in the background, in the fray of things. She was not the star, she just was there.

Why she was even at this wedding was still a questionable thing to her. She wanted to be back on the mainland right after the ship left the dock. Something was wrong the second that she got on the boat, she did not belong at this wedding, maybe her mother or father did, but she most certainly did not. Clearly somebody was upset with her actions, but almost nobody of her age was there. Nobody would have hated her enough to take such drastic measures. Only a cold hearted killer would kill somebody so young for no good reason, and clearly that was the case of her death.

With small chunks of a cream puff covered in blood all over her shirt, Mahi did not look like the beauty she was just a few minutes before. Maybe she would look quite edible to a vampire or an animal, but to a human she would just look awful. Her neck still had red liquid flowing out of it, which appeared to be disgusting. Her heart had stopped beating, yet maybe it never was. In her social interactions Mahi never was nice, doing anything possible to bring down other people's feelings. Her death could simply be karma, God might have been infuriated with her, after all, he did have her born into quite the prestigious family. Sure, her family had been one of the richest for a long time, but Mahi never was one to learn how to act in the proper way, one would probably say after their first interactions with her that she was one of the nouveau riche.

Due to the burning building and such, nobody would take any notice to a dead girl on the ground. Unless of course they feel over her, which was not likely since she was in the middle of the room and the doors were on the sides. Her body would burn down with the building, never to be recovered. The people who get off this island, if any do, would probably not take any notice to the death of her, caring only for the fact that they were lucky enough to be alive. Some will probably think that she got tired with her life and swam off knowing she would die, though if anyone there actually knew her they would never assume that. Mahi was living an enjoyable life by her standards, she got whatever she wanted right away, she had money, she had popularity, what more could a superficial teenage girl want. Of course, these were never things that Mahi would ever get to find out, she would die as the artificial bitch that she was always destined to be.

Never would Mahi find love in her life, though she probably never would have even if she lived till an old age. Nobody would love someone who acted the way that she did. Her constant nagging and wanting would have driven even the most patient soul insane. She always was destined to be alone, whether it was as a single child, with a special someone or in death, nobody would actually be there for her. Especially in death, she would always be by herself. There was nobody who was close to her that would be dead, in fact, most people would be quite overjoyed that she had perished. Another queen bee would take over the social tree in her grade, maybe one with more of a heart than Mahi had. Though a lesson that all have to learn is that it does not matter who or what you are in high school, it matters who and what you are as an adult, something Mahi Fisher never would have grasped in her life. Her biggest flaw would always have been thinking that social status is more important than what one actually is as a person.

Would the world see another girl like Mahi Fisher again? Probably. The truth was that she never really was something special, she was always just the prettiest. The thing is though, that there will always be pretty girls, some probably prettier than the one laying dead in a burning building right now. Maybe even some of those girls would be nice, but there always seems to be one exactly like Mahi. The rich one who only cares about herself. The one who puts others down just to empower themselves more, that always was Mahi Fisher, but there are countless others out in the world who are exactly the same way. Her beauty on the outside may have been unparalleled, yet it was the same with the inside. Her personality never would be paralleled, nobody ever would be as awful as Mahi Fisher was. Nobody would ever complain as much, nobody who had so much would ever want more. But assuming things about the future is always wrong, things will always get bigger and better. Memories of people will fade and we will only remember who mattered most to us. Would Mahi Fisher be one of the people who actually got remembered? No she would not, people would gladly forget about her. They would not celebrate her death, but they would celebrate her being gone. Life would become easier without her, maybe in a way her death was a good thing, but the world never will know what life would be like otherwise. Maybe she would have changed. Just maybe this awful island experience would have changed her.

Probably not....

The End Of Mahi Fisher <3