[IC] [Closed]

[Mixtape Ghost N]

[Mixtape Ghost N]

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^{Anger ÷ Regret - Fear...}

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7:23 PM. September 12th, Pre-Awakening.

Seemingly in the middle of nowhere, on the very outskirts of Farmer Hill, a car came to a stop; dropping off a single person. Who didn't hesitate to reach into her pocket and pull out a cigarette, as if she was dying for this moment for hours now.

She walked across the street, only illuminated by the night sky, and walked into the forest with only a lit cigarette. Following the sound of the loud techno music into the forest, the woman first encountered a fence. She shook her head and looked up, and saw the mountain. She wondered why in the tits they were so afraid of people going near it - enough to wrap a giant ass fence around it. She shook her head, what was worse was that nobody decided to knock it the fuck over. She let out a sigh as she held the lit cigarette between her fingers as she looked for an entrance.

Because like hell she was going to climb over this, that barbed wire made it so.

After about two minutes of walking, the woman found just what she was looking for; a gate. She saw the padlock and chain on the ground, followed by a mass of tire tracks. She grinned as she took a puff of cigarette smoke as she walked down the path. It created a perfect trail straight to her destination; well, at least what she hoped was her destination; a lumber mill. What told her was a sign that said Thompson Lumber Inc - well, it was covered in plant life or broken into pieces, but she filled in the pieces.

She raised an eyebrow, and remembered the history lesson. Apparently there's a radiation leak or something near the mountain, and everything past the fence has been closed down. Well, if it's so damn dangerous, then why aren't they guarding it better?

The girl merely placed her hands in her pockets. Like hell she was going to miss the party of the year - the party that even the nerds were invited to. It was Grand Ridge Tradition at this point; at the start of the school year, throw a wild party and invite everyone to it. Part of the fun came from the fact it was never hosted at the same place twice. One year it was hosted at some dude's farm while he was away. Another year it was hosted in the middle of the woods. This year it's being held in some abandoned sawmill past the fence.

Just by walking up, she could see that the party was long in motion. People were dancing outside, there were drinks (probably drugs too if she knew where to look), and loud ass music. Best of all, with nobody within miles of here; they could party all night if they really wanted to. Which is what she wanted to do - no, what she was going to do.

Though, she wanted to see what was going on inside the mill, she heard that they got a DJ and everything. She pushed her way through the party, before walking up to the front. It had a bouncer... well, no. It had that knucklehead Hagan. She rolled her eyes, she was friends with the guy, but couldn't care less about his constant advances towards her. She leaned up against the wall, and watched for a moment. She saw some kids walk up to him, and they chatted for a moment, before Hagan shook his head, and turned them off. They argued, before Hagan pushed them away. Course, she couldn't hear anything over the music, their body language was enough for her to figure out what they were talking about. Though, she thought about getting that fool to let her in; she'd keep that as a... last resort.

Instead, the girl walked around the abandoned lumber mill, looking for another door. She eventually found a door on the side and... It was locked tight with a padlock, damn it. Still, it was rusted to all tits, and she could probably pop it with her good old pocket knife. She pulled it out, and tried to break it open. Before she heard something, and felt an incredible headache. She grasped her head with both hands as shifting red images appeared in her vision, and she was wondering if she was finally having a mental breakdown. The headache was so painful that she couldn't even think straight. She looked to her left, and saw a shadowy figure in the distance.

Then it all disappeared, headache and visions gone.

The girl was confused as to what just happened, maybe it was something in the air. Maybe it was just a bad cigarette... which she dropped on the ground and crushed underneath her boot. She walked out from behind the lumber mill, grasping her head. Inadvertently ending up by the front door.

"Babe?" She heard a male voice. "Claire?" The voice repeated, but catching her attention

Claire turned towards Hagan, and nearly gave him a look of contempt as he said, "Are you okay?"

Claire wondered if she should tell him... no.

"Nah, just gotta headache." Was her short and sweet response as she saw the shadowy figure in the distance again, before it disappeared.

The fuck was going on here?

[Puffhead]

AND

Thompson Lumber Inc.

"I'm gonna be perfectly honest with you man, I'm kinda surprised you wanted to come to this." Clayton Penrose's joking voice filled the night as he hopped over a nearby rotting log which had been left on the leafy ground for god knows how long at this point. "I mean don't get me wrong I'm sure you're wild at a party but... I just can't see you actually being at a party, ya' know?" A small chuckle emanated from his mouth at this while he glanced back at his new-found acquaintance.

"I uh... Well you're right, I'm not really the partying type." Griffin's much deeper voice responded as he simply walked around the log and shrugged his shoulders lightly. "But I just... I dunno. Got the urge to come. I've never been to any of these things and figured I would try to branch out."

"Heh. Yeah, right. You can just be honest and say you're trying to get laid. I understand." Came the taller mans clipped response while he searched the woods with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out exactly where he needed to go. The sun was already casting long shadows as it disappeared and left the woods beginning to become brisk with the night breeze. Admittedly it was already difficult enough to navigate as it was without the light now leaving their presence. As it was Clay was incredibly unfamiliar with this territory entirely. Even he didn't come towards the mountain often, as much fun as that might be. But no one would ever come with him to watch him do something fun here, so what was the point? Danger that no one see's is danger no one believes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Believe it or not I'm not really into the bed-and-ditch strategy man. But you do you and I'll just enjoy the dancing." The answer was simple and honest, causing Clayton to gag somewhat.

"Geeze you weren't kidding when you said you didn't like to have fun. We've been hanging out for maybe a week and I can already tell you suck the life out of everything."

"I said I don't like to take risks! I like fun." Griffin sighed; his eyebrow raising slightly in irritation.

"Whatever, same thing. Look there it is!" The pairs eyes both locked onto the abandoned saw mill, where things were clearly already in full swing. It was clear Griffin was nervous about this but apparently this was Clayton's home turf as he began to strut forwards with confidence, heading directly towards the bouncer who Griffin vaguely recognized as a man named Hagan. At the moment he looked to be chatting up someone who Clay instantly recognized as Claire, a girl he hadn't had much interaction with but who had a definite 'reputation' he was sure almost everyone knew about. "Hey Hagan!" He called out with a large grin. It was obvious that Clay was already incredibly familiar with the party scene and that honestly came as no surprise to Griffin. The guy was always ready to do something stupid, and what else would cause you to do that than booze and music? "Mind letting some fella's in? Or is this chick causing you trouble?"

[Mixtape Ghost N]

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^@Puffhead
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

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Right as Claire was collecting her bearings, two other meatheads walked up.

One was a neckbeard she never seen or heard of before, but the other... well, Claire had been in Farmer Hill long enough to know about Clayton - a trouble maker. Nothing like a thug, but he was known for getting into shit (Just like me). Claire, of course, couldn't help but be aware of him. They were the bad seeds of Farmer Hill, after all. But, they never interacted, mostly because Claire couldn't be arsed to deal with a joke like him. She rolled her eyes at him asking Hagan if she was giving him trouble.

"... Even if I was," Claire started off. "Like you can do anything about it."

"Hey, hey, hey, buttercup," Hagan immediately stepped between the two, because he can see when something's gonna get ugly. Uglier than Clayton that is. "No need for all the spice! We're all friends here, right guys?"

Claire merely let out a "Hmph." sound.

"But, Clayton, my main man," Hagan said with a smile as he leaned up against the wall. The brown bomber jacket flowing as he looked at the two. "In here's the VIP lounge, some heavy shit's going on in there, if you know what I'm saying." He chuckled as he jabbed a thumb backwards.

"... Heavy shit you're not participating in." Claire quietly said to herself as she rolled her eyes, her words drowned out by the loud music.

"I'm only allowed to let in the big names, like you, me, and Claire, here for example..." He shrugged as he raised both hands, before he suddenly pointed at Everett. "But, Mother Theresa there would have to party outside with the rest of em'."

[Defacto]

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Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

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Julia wondered if the party was worth all the trouble.

Sure, it was the party to go but she had her doubts on why the hell the girls on the volleyball team kept inviting her over the last two weeks. No need to befriend the people you'll play with and Julia sure would not try to force her way into a friendship: she wasn't that popular in the team anyway.

Her destination was 10 minutes of driving then, if you deaf enough to hear the loud music you would find a bunch of cars parked, leading you in the right way. But in any, for good or worse, there was Julia in her faithful scooter following her phone's GPS to the mountain.

And after exactly eight minutes of deliberated high speed she stopped in the improvised parking lot next to a gate. She killed the engine, stored her helmet in the underseat storage and set her way into the forest. "Where the people get drunk", she thought and then reprehended herself. Jesus, Julia. No one would get that nerd joke.

After two minutes walking Julia was finally there. There was music, people dancing and even more people moving around--which she made sure to dodge everyone until she could find someone she could call friend.

[Darquesse]

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Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

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♪ Fucked and drank all night
Acted all alright
Had no need to fight
Tonight, tonight ♪

Music streamed into Christopher's ears, leaking out of his earphones faintly as he hummed along nonchalantly. He silently cursed to himself as he stared at his feet, his shoes scuffed by the various rocks and fallen twigs scattered across rough terrain. They weren't his most expensive shoes - in fact, they were his cheapest, being a mere $60 - but it didn't mean he wanted to fuck them up before he even arrived at the party. The soles were dusted with dirt and had some small stones stuck in the tread, and the once-polished black leather was now faded towards the bottom, visible scratches creeping their way upwards. The remainder of the boots were in fairly good condition, though that would probably change drastically if Christopher could get his hands on some vodka. Vodka.... that's exactly what he needed right now, especially with the mild headache slowly creeping its way into existence.

Despite his slight wardrobe problems, the boy had an energetic spring to his movements. Start-of-year parties had proven to be quite the eventful, well, events for him, so he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to go to another one. Besides, he'd always wanted to see what the big fuss about the mountain was. Surely if it was such a dangerously radioactive place, they'd monitor it more closely; he hadn't even seen any protective fences yet. That was, until, he saw tire tracks beneath his boots, and looked up to see a tall, fairly old-looking fence, at either side of an open gate. He smiled to himself, eagerly removing his earbuds and only just discovering the fact that loud techno music had been playing the entire time. Perhaps his mother had a point about him listening at too high of a volume.

Not allowing himself much more time to dwell on it, Christopher made his way through the gate, past a rotting sign that had most definitely seen better days, and up towards 'Th m on Lum r ill In .' A smirk tugged at his lips as he arrived to find Claire O'Sullivan stood around with a bunch of guys, forcing him to resist making an inappropriate comment. He recognised the second-tallest of the sausage fest as Clayton, the town's troublemaker who was apparently offended by Christopher's superior presence. Clayton reminded him somewhat of his old self, though he kept that to the back of his mind as he approached what he'd dubbed the Scooby Gang, his mind set on getting into the 'VIP lounge' that he heard the tall one mention.

"Jesus, they weren't kidding when they said that even the nerds were invited."" He announced loudly, throwing a knowing glance towards Claire. "Gotta say, I knew you'd run out of guys eventually, but you're really scraping the bottom of the barrel this time." He grinned, stuffing his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels gently.

[Puffhead]

AND

@Surtr@Darquesse

Clayton found himself clearly at home as he gave Hagan a wide grin at the invitation to the VIP lounge. Of course, he hadn't been worried about getting inside it in the first place. Even if they had denied him entrance, which was a rare occasion but did happen once or twice thanks to his unfortunate habit of breaking things, it never stopped him from always finding another way in. The true secret to a good party was never finding the right party... It was making the right one, and if he had to find a way to sneak into where the good stuff was happening, he was going to do it and kick things up to 11. When Hagan claimed that Griffin couldn't enter however, his smile faltered.

It wasn't like he really wanted the kill-joy in there, in fact he truthfully didn't, but he couldn't deny that he owed the guy. The very reason they had been hanging out as of late was that Claytons bike had taken a serious beating from a stupid stunt he had tried, and Griffin had offered to fix it up free of charge. Anyone who was willing to do that, no matter how much of a 'Saint' they were, made them okay in Claytons book.

Fortunately, Griffin solved his dilemma for him. "Hey don't worry about it." The shorter man insisted quickly as he gave a surprisingly good natured smile and nodded towards where the VIP lounge was. "That's really not my scene anyways. You guys have a good time alright-?" His words were cut short by a new voice that he instantly found grating to his nerves. Griffin didn't even need to turn around to know who the creator of the words were, as it was none other than Christopher Pope. If he was honest, Griffin had very little interactions with him, but he could recall every one of them being unpleasant. The guy never had much good to say, and always seemed to have a certain air of condescension that simply made him seem... pretentious.

Clayton recognized him as well, but didn't really bother taking the time to feel annoyed or offended by his words. Taking the time to do that would only make it harder to enjoy the party. Instead he smiled widely and found his good mood un-containable as he moved to lean against the wall next to Claire and give her a quick wink, one that wasn't particularly flirty but instead just letting her know that he was about to say something about her. "Hey man, you haven't seen us party." He insisted with a confident swagger to his voice while taking a quick glance in Christopher's direction. "Don't call us the bottom of the barrel yet. Trust me, I know my partying and from what I've seen from Claire, she knows her stuff too. Maybe we can teach you a thing or two... Chris, was it?"

[Mixtape Ghost N]

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^{@Puffhead@Darquesse}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - VIP Entrance.

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Claire felt a little bad for the lad that got rejected by Hagan. She turned her lips downwards as Everett seemed to desperately play off things - course anyone like Claire can see through that ruse like it was nothing, but she felt a little bad for him. Maybe she'd give him a private danc-

Oh boy, not this.

Just as the meathead count began to skyrocket, someone approached them. One that sent a shudder down Claire's spine; Chris Pope. Known for his legendary levels of asshattery, he wasted no time in making Claire throttle his little faggy neck. She grimaced at him as he walked up, and made a special announcement just for her. At first, she was embarrassed, but she was surrounded by meatheads that thought one plus one equals eleven. She had nothing to worry about from them. That grimace turned into a sneer as she looked down and shook her head, muttering to herself,

"Ahhh, Chris," She looked up at the arty boy, before finishing, "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

She was going to give him a good reason to quit if he didn't cut it out here and now. She was tempted to say something, but she just remained quiet. Besides, Hagan did all the talking for her.

"Yeah, but wanna know who wasn't invited?" Hagan said as he quickly made his disdain of Chris very, very, clear. "The fags." He spat out.

He smiled as he took a step back, his heavy boots leaving marks on the ground. "So, I don't know who told your skinny ass you could come over here talking down to us like you do your ascot salemans."

He crossed his arms, "But, you better get that attitude the fuck out of here, before I show you how we do things out here, fag."

What Hagan said lacked... well, any common sense, but she was glad to see Hagan getting Christopher off her case. Even indirectly. She grinned. But, she really wanted nothing to do with these kids. She didn't want to hang out here and talk to Hagan. She didn't want to talk to his boyfriend Clayton either, or Chris' dusty ass. All she had to do was slip inside, and party with some real people.

Maybe she can get rid of them both somehow...

---

Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Side... roof?

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"... Girl, stop."

"Jordan, I got this!"

"Get down from there."

"No, no, I swear I saw a hatch up here!"

The two girls went back and forth for seemingly ages. As Jordan Nichols, the voice of reason, stood at the foot of a ladder, arguing with her friend Kimberly Walton, whom had climbed on top of the lumber mill. This was the "natural" progression of events from getting rejected by Hagan for "not being cool enough," to deciding to sneak into the VIP lounge. Problem was that every other entrance was locked tight... except for a hatch.

"Everyone can see you," Jordan pleaded. "If Hagan comes over here..."

"He wouldn't hit a girl..." Kimberly cockily trailed off, before the question popped up in her mind. "... Would he?"

"No," Jordan answered. "But, I bet he'll find someone who will."

Kimberly wasn't going to let that stop her, she had some great shots. Even from up here! She just needed to get in there, and let Jordan in... somehow. She could get in there by herself, but she knew better than to just leave her best friend alone! Kimberly was better than that, especially with all these people here-

A really chilly breeze came by, and blew Kimberly's clothes around.

"... Aaaaaand I just saw up ya' skirt." Jordan called from down below, and Kimberly's face went red with embarrassment.

"Sorry!" Kimberly said.

"Just keep it quiet," Jordan said. "And do what you gotta do."

"Yeah, yeah," Kimberly said as she crawled on the rooftops, and finally reached that hatch! It was also locked, but the lock was long rusted due to years of sitting out here, and was crumbling in her hands. She pulled out a pocket knife and jammed it in, trying to break apart the lock...

"... Someone's coming," Jordan warned.

"Distract them!" Kimberly said.

[Opposition]

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^@Surtr
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Mill Interior Side Room

---

It was an... Interesting prospect, this whole party deal. Callie never expected herself to attend such venues when she first came to Grand Ridge. She was never the type to get out and have fun with other people, but she'd be damned if she wasn't at least going to try and change that. New state, new school, new beginnings, right? Callie was honestly surprised she even made it this far socially: being invited to a party and all. Everyone was supposedly invited, but hey, a win is a win. Just knowing someone who could invite her was cool enough for Callie. She had to admit the setting was a bit odd, though. A radioactive mountain or something like that? It wasn't the most comforting place to party, but hey, at least if she crumbled into dust atom by atom, all her classmates would go down with her. It'd be pretty awkward otherwise...

The stroll through the surrounding woods was peaceful... Eerily peaceful... Perhaps it was just her imagination running wild. It was all too often Callie got lost in her thoughts and started to imagine things that were surely impossible. Either way, the whole vibe surrounding of the place left a pleasant air of calm over the girl. The faint music distantly charming her ears was only additionally blissful. Of course, things changed as Callie closed the distance between herself and the battery of lights, sound, and people all wildly stumbling around one another. It already felt a bit awkward, but at least Callie could hang around the folks that invited her-- or so she'd expected, at least.

All went well for the first 30 minutes or so, sure, but soon enough the only girl Callie imagined could tolerate her was starting to drift about looking for other friends. Callie, herself, hung back, not wanting to annoy her friend by following her around too much. Alone again. That was quick. Yeah, plenty of people were friendly looking, but Callie was never one to approach strangers. It took only a few more minutes of wrestling with her thoughts before Callie figured the best course of action was just to wander off somewhere alone for a while to spend some time alone without being judged. Lame, yes, but it was her style. Callie wasted no time getting out of the eye of the storm. She found herself drifting towards the woods, but as she walked through the trees, she made sure not to stray too far from the still echoing music. After all, who knew what lurked around on a crazy radioactive mountain. Not that Callie didn't want to find out. Now wasn't the time, though. Wandering away from a party into the spooky forest? It was a horror movie waiting to happen.

The lumber mill itself was a rather interesting prospect, though. Looking around an abandoned building? Now that... was also a horror movie waiting to happen, but hey, at least Callie would be able to find her way back to the party when the inevitable monster chased her away. Much to her dismay, the entrance to the mill seemed occupied... guarded even. It was a rather large building, though. Callie soon found herself strolling along the building's opposing end which appeared much less filled with partying college kids. As the light in the rooms along its walls disappeared Callie began trying windows. Most of them were locked up tight... Most of them. It didn't take long for her to find a pane that wasn't locked-- blocked by debris, but not locked. It took a moment of prying and wedging, but eventually, Callie managed to prop it open. Moments later, she was in the tiny, dilapidated room. Luckily, it appeared she was far enough from the main party that was going on within the rest of the lumber mill. Callie wasn't about to be awkwardly discovered crashing all the fun however and made haste to lodge the window she entered from into place once more and lock the door that led to the rest of the mill.

Now this was the sort of calm peace Callie could get behind. She spent a moment just relaxing on an old table that looked like it could have collapsed any minute and she was just getting ready to take out a notebook and waste her time away when a variety of hushed voices came to be heard. A moment was spent trying to ignore them, but as they persisted, it became clear that whoever was outside wasn't just passing by. Things went on even longer and it became clear that they weren't just loitering either. When sounds started coming from not only the side of the mill, but even the roof, Callie couldn't help herself. She rose from her seat, moving back over towards the window. The dirty glass had obscured everything well enough that she had to open it once more to see anything.

Gingerly the girl peeked her head out the window only to view the ladder placed not more than a few yards away against the building. A moment passed in which she had no idea what to say. Normal conversation was hard enough, but what the hell was this?

"I don't suppose you're trying to get in?" As she spoke, Callie shifted about any debris that still obstructed the window.

[Scarescrow]

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Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

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"Crack..."

The sound of twigs and dry leaves crack under Lee's shoe as he advanced toward the Grand Ridge Students' Party. Surrounding the trail was various trees that he had only read in books. Their branches were high above the ground, provided more shadow in the orange skies. Their leaves were also different. Some have a mixed color between red and yellow-brown, and others have pure green. He had read about these trees. That its leaves will not change color during fall, calling as "Evergreen." For Lee, seeing these so-called "evergreens" had excited him a little bit. He could imagine all the mysteries the forest is hiding, waiting to be discovered by someone in someday. But the forest quickly loses Lee's interest due to him being unable to name all these trees and wildlife he had encountered.

Shifting his attention to the trail beneath him, Lee started thinking about the U.S., the nation that he will call home until his biological grandfather died. The first thing that he learned was people here does not like those in China. They lived while they could, spending their youth while they still can. Some regret their actions and wish they could change it. Others preserved it like good memories. Besides that, the people here are abnormally nice to strangers. Unlike China, where people are too bustle with their work and only greets other if they have to, then he is welcomed by these strange people. They have different skins color, speaking in different tongues, and saying words that he could not fully understand. They brought various foods with various tastes from regions that he had barely remember of learning from…

And then, Lee started to hear the sound from the speakers and people chattering. And he saw his fear. Groups of people coming in and out from a certain direction, passing the metal fence and into the old lumber mill. They dressed in different clothes, some in fancy suits and others with clothes that are too short to hide their secret places. And they were laughing, drinking beers, and chatting with their friends. There were too many of them, too many for a small town. And that scared Lee, for he remembered how others used to tease on his appearance and origin. The thing had made him fear before the public. And he stood there, watching the gate, watching boys and girl the same age as he enters the place, and there were too many of them. And it seems, the voices surround him suddenly became to a halt and people starting to turn their faces with smiles on it, laughing at him. Suddenly, there isn't any light around him. He was in the dark. And surrounding him was those yellow eyes. They are watching him like prey. They were waiting for him to make a mistake, so they could tear him, feed on his flesh and dances on his corpse.

Lee's breathing became shallow and rapid, his heart racing, eyes searching for a place to hide from this party. And handshaking without control. Lee knew that he should not have come here in the first place, that he afraid of seeing people. Now, just the thought of seeing people scared him like cats hearing the thunder. He felt cold, even though he is wearing a leather jacket and long trousers. He started imagining voices that are not there. He heard something cracked, and his head went blank, temporarily lose all senses. For others, it was a brief second. But for Lee, he had visited the day his mother died. For him, she felt relieved the day she died, knowing she was finally liberated from her pain. And the thought of her felt relief when she died pained him. It hurt him for how weak he was. It hurt because he was so insignificant. And it hurt because of her smile. It makes him believe that his Mother was relieved when leaving this world with him behind. So making her proud was his purpose. It was the thing that kept him studying at midnight when others had slept. It was the thing that kept him to continue in this harsh world without breaking. Because of his childish vow that seems so simple to say yet so difficult to maintain, that he signed that stupid contract.

Lee's heart and breath began slowing down, with his eyes looking forward. He still felt uncomfortable when passing through various people, scanning through the stranger that just recently enter the abandoned mill. He could not back down not, withdrawing from this. Not when his vow is still lurking at the back of his mind, reminding him of what he needs to do.

Lee's whispered to himself. The voice of him saying something is quickly oppressed by the nearby techno music that is blasting in all directions. But it was enough for Lee, for he knew what he was saying.

"Of course Mama, I will make you proud."

[Puffhead]

---

AND

---

^{@Surtr@Darquesse}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Mill Interior Side Room

---

The air of tension from Chris's entrance, and Hagan's rather forwards aggression, instantly caused the group to clearly lose the party vibe that Clay had been feeling not only a few seconds ago. Of course not much could be done about that, when people like Chris showed up that shit was bound to happen but still... The night was still young and he wasn't eager to let such a unique opportunity get away from him like this. If this party only happened once a year he had to make it one to remember and frankly, bitching with each other wasn't the way he wanted to remember it.

"Okay, so, clearly not the best of friends here." He spoke up as he flashed his most winning smile while pushing himself away from the wall he had been leaning against. "Not the most charming of introductions either but I suppose I'll go ahead and take it. Why don't we put a pin in this um... Er, 'pleasant' little conversation and finish it when we have some good ol' beers in our systems yeah?" Before anyone could argue, or try and interject with any more hostile and unwelcome additions to the already incredibly un-enjoyable discussion, he swung his arm around Hagar's shoulders and gave him a friendly shove. "Let's just get things on the road, eh? I'm itching to get inside and see what sort of excitement is gonna' happen tonight. Mind opening the door for us?"

While this conversation occurred Griffin found himself backing away quietly, slightly thankful for the opportunity to escape what was already a fairly awkward situation for him. If he was quite honest he hadn't wanted to get into the VIP section in the first place, after all he'd probably just end up rejecting any sort of 'fun' they were having in there, but it still didn't stop him from feeling particularly embarrassed by the rejection. It's one thing to try and decline an invitation... It's an entirely different one to try and play it off like you never wanted the invite in the first place. "Yeah, you guys go have a good time. Try not to get yourself killed Clay." He spoke abruptly before turning on his heels so he could quickly begin to head towards where the rest of the party was occurring. Yikes... That was even more awkward than if he had just left without a word.

[Delta44]

---

---

Gregory stands in the elevator, doors closing as he and his father exchange a silent conversation within a matter of moments. The two have already said what they've wanted, gotten all they felt was necessary off their chests, and as the door almost closes, they both flash a confident, albeit unknowing smile. A smile which will carry the two of them their separate ways, for the time being.

The door shuts. Boxed in with a handful of other individuals, Gregory sighs and stares at the floor in silence, not entirely unlike some of those in the elevator. It's a slow ride to the upper level, oddly slow considering it was only the second floor, though he admits to himself it may just be his perception of the event due to his own circumstances. Eventually the doors open. Eventually he boards the plane. Eventually he's on his way to Montana.

It's a new experience for the young man, having never left the country before in his life. He's heard so many things about life overseas from America, Japan, and the rest of the world it's almost exciting. Yet even if the prospects of a new leaf and a new life is exhilarating, it's also indefinitely saddening. After all, he was the person who almost killed a girl. He was running away from his problems, seeking a chance to escape before he was culled back in Australia. These nasty thoughts echo and claw at the back of Gregory's mind for awhile. However pretty soon all thoughts fade into bliss as he enters a dreamless sleep, mind attuned to the gentle hum of the aircraft and the soft beats of chill music from his headphones. Time ticks faster than it has the past year, for the next thing he knows, he's there. He's in Montana.

Carry-on, luggage, money, taxi. The general order of things wasn't too far off what one would expect from an airport, though to Gregory it was a new experience, one that felt oddly fulfilling as he cherished his newfound independence. The afternoon sun beat down on the taxi gently, the new year providing less intense rays compared to Sydney, something he knew he'd have to learn to deal with quickly. That thought then went on to trigger another realisation:

Gregory was no longer in Sydney. He wasn't in Australia anymore.

He wouldn't be bound to any sort of preconceived perceptions of him. He'd never been a part of an exchange, nor had he ever even moved schools. He'd always been a part of the same school, from Pre-Primary to Year 12. And he was always Gregory.

Here, in America, in Farmer Hill, in Grand Ridge Academy, he could be anything he wanted. He could become someone else entirely. The possibility was certainly there, but as he thought about it in the back seat of the taxi, he shook his head almost instinctively. As his answer came to him, so did his reasons: He wasn't going to Farmer Hill to become someone else. He was going to Farmer Hill to become a better version of himself. To become smarter, to become kinder, to become stronger, and to become more connected with his mother, hopefully not forgotten among the people of Farmer Hill. He wasn't quite sure when he'd come clean about that. Maybe once he'd gotten to know the townsfolk a little better.

The ride to town was a long one indeed. In fact it took all afternoon just to arrive there, and by the time the taxi stopped in front of the town hall, the moon was well into the sky. It had cost Gregory a small fortune just to get there, however thankfully his father had the forethought of covering any and all transport expenses to get there. One slightly unhappy Taxi driver later, and he was standing on the side of the road with all of his things in hand, with no real idea how to proceed.

'Good one, dumb one. You're not getting into the dorms this bloody late.'

His mind chastised the situation in good humour, before giving in to the curiosity found in this new location. For starters it wasn't anything like the city: The air felt somehow different, like you could smell the natural beauty in the place, and coupled with the lack of noise it felt rather serene and solitary. The lack of noise was due to the lack of people around, a direct contrast to the urban life in Sydney. He probably would've looked like a stunned tourist in anything else, however his flannel shirt and jeans made he himself feel like he fit in somehow. With a name like Farmer Hill you can't go wrong with a flannel shirt, or so Gregory surmised.

Still without any real idea of where he should even go, Gregory approaches the town hall's entrance and checks the door to see if it's open, and if it is, walks inside. If not...

Well, shit.

If it's closed for whatever reason, Gregory decides to have a little look around town. It'll be cold as all Hell, but the sooner he can find a place to stay, the better.

[Mixtape Ghost N]

---

^@OppositionJ
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Side... roof?

---

Oooooooooh, busted.

Jordan immediately whipped her head around to see a doll of a girl sticking her head out one of the windows. She thinks that she seen the girl somewhere in Grand Ridge before, but didn't recognize her. Still, Jordan knew that if she was in the "Vip lounge" she must be one of the "cool cats," and that means she probably wouldn't appreciate the two trying to sneak in. First thing Jordan realized was that, she probably had no idea that Kimberly was up there.

"Oh, no," Jordan answered, putting on the perfect poker face. "Some asshole threw my purse on the roof as a joke, and I'm just trying to grab it, that's all." Worse case; she can just run off, provided that Kimberly doesn't do anything to fuck it up.

Kimberly overheard the conversation and stopped in her tracks; she knew someone was bound to see them (Or well, Kimberly creeping on the roof). She put the knife away, and slowly crept back towards the ladder - stopping so she could hear the conversation better. Jordan was bullshitting the girl, perfect! But, the problem was that Kimberly was trapped up here... unless she can get in through the roof, but even then, that was looking to be unlikely.

Kimberly, out of curiosity, peeked over the edge for a moment... only to see a girl she couldn't recognize.

---

^@Scarescrow
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

"Uh, Lee?"

Lee Wu heard a deep voice come from behind him, he turned around to see the well-built frame of Samson standing tall and proud with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He had on black jeans, and a white polo shirt. This wasn't the kind of place that Samson would attend, but he got invited here by a close friend of his, so he had to come. Of course, he couldn't resist inviting a friend of his, and that friend was Lee. Though, he looked a little... weird, so Samson had to say something.

"Are you okay, man?" Samson said, "You look a little, uh, y'know?"

[Savo]

^{@Surtr@OppositionJ
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.}

---

Well then... that was just peachy.

A young man with his hood up was strolling by the VIP lounge, slowly twisting and turning his head as he set his walking stick down. The dry leaves underneath cracked as it came down, looking over at other party goers who had been delayed into the so called "VIP Lounge." Seriously, what was the point of this if you were just gonna alienate most of your peers? Like hell if Derick knew as he grumbled and sighed, leaning against the wall, going over the events in his head.

Kim and Jordan manage to drag his ass out of his room (a feat he was still trying to wrap his head around), they drive all the way out here, get denied access because of Haden or Fagen... heck, he didn't know, muscle dude deciding who is cool and who isn't... while not participating in the party as well...

"The hypocrisy is jus' real friggin' think, ain't it," Derick sighed as he slumped down, taking a break from finding both his friends. Laying his stick against the side of the building, he observed other people walking around, some chatting about how bullshit this whole thing was, or hearing jealous remarks and machinations amongst the people resting outside.

Derick just lost the reasoning for why those two really wanted to get in... hell, he even pointed out how stupid it was to have an invitation go out to the whole college, yet deny letting over half of them do what they came here to do. Shit was like paying to eat at a restaurant, but get forcibly removed for a petty reason that doesn't make sense and without any refund.

Groaning as he thought, Derick closed his eyes and pressed a hand against the lids, massaging them as he began trying to think of where the duo might of gone... the car wasn't an option since he had the keys... so where were they?

Derick gulped in a breath of fresh air and sighed, grunting and groaning as he pushed himself up from the earthen ground and grasped at his walking stick, not bothering to warrant the attention of randies and people he didn't care to know.

Looking around, he began walking once more, albeit at a much slower and unhurried pace. Making his way around the back, he saw some other college kids doing... something, trying to break into the "VIP Lounge" from the back from what he assumed. None of em' looked like the two who involuntarily ditched him, so he just pressed on... before feeling a bit of a chilly breeze pass on by. The wind managed to blow over his hood, revealing his messy red hair that he didn't even bother combing before arriving.

Shivering a little, he brushed part of his hair down as he continued around the side... but not before hearing two very familiar voices trying their damndest to be inconspicuous... and while he could barely tell what they were saying, they seemed to be even more anxious than usual.

"There you two are," he murmured as he poked his head around the side... only to see Jordan looking up at some chick he... he thought he recognized. Hm. The crunching of the autumn leaves and the grass were the only sounds made as he slowly approached, listening to... whatever Jordan was saying, purse?

Yeah, no, that was bs, and he knew it straight and clear. As he looked up at the girl peering from the window, he almost missed catching a glimpse of someone down from the top of the roof... so that was their game then?

"Y'know, if you're going t'drag my ass out here, the least you can do is not ditch me," Derick spoke up nonchalantly as he approached the party of two (three). Shoving one hand into his pocket as he eyed the two.

"So Jordan, what's this about some joke and a purse," he tilted his head quizzically as he questioned the girl, not bothering to acknowledge the other chick peering out the window.

[Zombiedude101]

^{@Surtr@OppositionJ@Savo}

---

There was only so long that Nate could be content with taking fire from some VC gooks, or sardonically whispering 'Fuck you Gee-Eye!' through the microphone with a heavily laid on faux-Vietnamese accent. He'd got most of his study out of the way earlier in the day and he figured he had nothing better to do - why not get involved with the locals? Each year students from Grand Ridge held some big party somewhere around Farmer's Hill and invited everyone to show up - and if he was going to get to know folks and get used to the place it would have been a dumbass move not to be in attendance. This time it was down at some old lumber mill a little ways out of town, within walking distance.

Nate didn't waste much time getting things together, given it was still a walk - he grabbed a quick shower to freshen up, then after toweling himself down he threw on a set of dark-grey cargo pants and a silver t-shirt he'd left discarded on his bed. It was dark out and getting cooler now, with it being September, so he grabbed his hoodie off the back of his office chair for good measure and slipped that on too. Then it was his phone, keys and some spare cash that he tucked away each in one of the front compartments of his pants.

On his way out, he made a detour to the fridge and peered inside - Aunt Viv hadn't had a chance to fetch more groceries yet and was out for the night so it wasn't particularly packed, though Nate made a point to help himself a cooked chicken drumstick from a Tupperware container and stripped it to the bone, satisfying his hunger for the time being. Once that was done, he

Nate was ready to let himself out when he heard a noise coming from the lounge, a faint glow emanating from around the corner.

"You're back?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he peered around the corner and caught a larger figure sprawled on the couch.

"You didn't hear me knock the chair over on my way in?" Quent asked, before he was shrugged off by Nate, tapping behind his ear. "Headphones."

"Ah, crap," he grimaced, before letting a chuckle briefly slip, "Don't tell Viv, she gets on my case for not being careful with the furniture."

A wry grin lined Nate's face for a moment, "What's it worth?"

"Oh, right, that's the game, huh?" Quent's face crinkled for a moment, before he shot back a sly retort of his own, "Who do you think she's gonna believe? A distinguished career man," he wafted a hand over himself, "Or..." he jabbed a finger towards Nate.

He put his hands up, then exclaimed, "Police brutality!"

"Hah! Benefits of being a public servant."

"Sure, whatever - going for a walk and stuff, I'll see you later. Don't arrest me."

"Not on duty tonight, so don't get into trouble or I can't bail you out," Quent said, in a tone that was laying it on thick.

"Yeah sure," Nate waved him off, dismissively, "I'll send you the ransom note when the Canuck Moose Mafia come for my organs."

"It better not be set too high or I'll have to find a new nephew," he could make out a faint grin from the man in the dim glow of the TV, "Deputies don't make that high a wage."

"Guess we'll find out tomorrow morning!" Nate called back, waving him off and heading towards the door to let himself out.

"Yup," he heard the man's voice grunt back, one last time before the door closed behind him and Nate set off.

Uncle Quentin was no biological relative of Nate's at all, in fact he wouldn't have even passed for a blood relative if the two were stood together because of one obvious factor - whilst Nate had the pale skin complexion of someone who'd spent their life in Washington state, Quent on the other hand was black, with an accent that suggested he'd grown up in Los Angeles. Oh, and he was a beat cop - or, had been one back when he had lived in LA, though after his marriage to Vivian he'd retired from that, then taken up a local sheriff's department. It was a safer life, at least - you didn't get much in the way of drug busts or gangbangers around Farmer's Hill and Viv was grateful for that

All in all, he was a man that Nate had got to know pretty quick - for a cop, Quent wasn't exactly a hardass, though Nate knew by the collection in his gun cabinet and a few stories about his LAPD days that beneath the laid back demeanour and faux bickering between them was a man who could really fuck up your day if he wanted to. But as far as Uncles went? Nate was glad to have him.

As he quietly paced down the dimly lit street, Nate figured that reaching this lumber mill wouldn't be too much bullshit. He was no runner, no sprinter - but he could walk a hell of a lot and being out in Farmer's Hill had given him time to get used to it and even like it. Some of the local shortcuts came into his use as he ducked between houses, streets and (sluggishly) climbed over low fences to make it a shorter journey. If wasn't long before he hit the dark, the collection of buildings thinning out as he approached the outskirts of Farmer's Hill, keeping to the side of the road in case some douchebag got a little close for comfort at 60MPH.

Eventually the distant pulse of noise coming from the forest in the distance became a legible series of sounds that he figured was techno music reaching through the treeline, so he left the road and crossed onto the grass, then through the woods, tsking care not to trip on any particular low hanging branches or swollen roots. It was near pitch-black, the kind of place that would've, still freaked him out, but this was the only way to get to the lumber mill.

"Shit," he swore, after one branch of clipped him at the top of his hood, tugging it halfway down. Rustling in the woods caught within earshot and he glanced over his shoulder, wondering if it was something... only to yet again curse as it turned out to be just another would-be party-goer in the distance stumbling through the woods, already half-way to heaven.

That frustration soon melted away as he hit the clearing, then briefly turned to a momentary awe as he saw the silhouette of the mountain looming over. Seeing it at night, this time of night, no artificial lighting, was different to observing it in daylight - it almost reminded him of the monolithic behemoths that marked the skyline in his home state of Washington, except unlike Bellevue or Tacoma there was no great cityscape to challenge that imposition. Throw on top of that all this stuff about people disappearing?

No wonder this place spooked some of the locals. Nate felt spooked just by looking at it.

A change of tune in the music blaring from the lumber mill drew his attention back to his destination and by this point he was close enough that he could make out dim lights on the other side of the fence, it was just the matter of getting past - easier said than done. Fortunately, it seemed like quite a few people had already trailblazed their way through and it wasn't long before he found an unlocked gate with tire tracks running through.

As an educated guess, he figured Quent wouldn't have approved of this, but fuck it - he wouldn't find out and it wasn't like he was running this thing.

Following the tire tracks, he soon found the place, along with a mass of people already hanging around outside, many with drinks in hand and dancing to rhythmic pulses that swept over him as he closed in, dirt and fallen leaves crunching under his shoes. Music blared from within and the way Nate figured, as much as some people were having fun out here, the real party was probably inside, but there was one problem:

At the entrance was some tall, imposing guy keeping watch of the door - Hagan or something? Yeah, fuck that. Odds were that he was only letting in those he knew or deemed worthwhile, so as for Nate? Fuck that, he thought again. What he'd seen of the guy was a macho asshole who couldn't lighten up. Besides, there was already a crowd building around the entrance that included a couple of other vaguely familiar faces, like Chris Pope (another asshole, though of a different caliber), or the other guy and girl stood nearby.

Instead, Nate took a detour around the another side of the decrepit building, looking for another entrance inside - there was another door that led inside, but a closer inspection revealed a rusted latch and padlock stood in his way. For a moment, though, he did a double take and pressed his weight against the door to see if there was any leeway. A little bit of movement at the upper and lower halves - so at least he knew there wasn't anything blocking it from the other side.

If he just worked the latch with his multitool... shit.

Nate had managed to loosen two of the screws on the latch, but the other two were so rusted that they eroded away the moment he tried to twist the flat of the head against them. Grumbling, he tried prying at it with his fingers to see if it would come off and found a gap form between the door and the latch where he'd taken the screws off, but it still refused to budge. Maybe a little brute force was in order? He shoved the multitool back into his pocket and set off, looking for a rock or something blunt and heavy that could be used to smash the latch off.

Mid-search, Nate noticed a short, dark-skinned girl stood at the foot of a ladder, engaging in conversation with some other girl leaning out of an open window, then caught some tall guy on a walking stick approaching to engage in conversation. Of those three? The guy was the only one who he could've pinned down as having seen before and only that because of the walking stick. Was the girl telling them to fuck off, or something? Probably not, but how these kind of things played out it was the first thing that crossed his mind. Who knew, maybe they had a way in.

"I can see that roofer's scholarship is really paying for itself," he remarked, with a low snort.

[Darquesse]

---

6452 East Avenue, Market Square, 74632 -> Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

^{@Zombiedude101@OppositionJ@Surtr@Savo}

The side window of the Welsh Residence slid open, allowing a nimble Brynn to slip through. She closed it behind her with a soft click, taking one last glance in her room, somewhat longingly. This lasted for a brief moment, before she turned around and made her way around the side of the house. A slightly worn, faded red bike was waiting for her, rested precariously against the corner of the brickwork. Brynn placed her foot in a slight gap in the cement, utilising the grip to hoist herself up onto the raised seat of the bike. It wasn't her ideal form of transport, given it was Jon's bike and she didn't want to find out what would happen if she lost it, but it beat walking all the way to the mountain. Her feet slid into the small scraps of leather fastened onto each pedal, pushing down and riding her way down the street. She had no idea why she was going through all the effort to go to some dumb popularist party, as she held no credence it would be anything less than a radioactive shitfest, though she appreciated the fact it gave her an excuse to sneak out. The cold, wintery air was inviting, flicking her hoodie up behind her like a tail of blue and yellow, whilst she pedalled her way through bumpy sidestreets towards her destination.

While faint techno music was slowly fading into earshot, carried along by the curves and waves of the night air, there was plenty enough silence above the whirring of the bicycle mechanisms for Brynn to think; think hard. There was plenty of silence for Brynn to think about what she must've done wrong to have such a shitty life. There was plenty of silence for Brynn to think about the possibilities of an alternate version of her, one that lived with a picture perfect family. One that was happy.

What a family fucking portrait that would be.

However, much like the sudden realisation that her life was an endless cycle of disappointment and failure, very much due to her own actions, Brynn found herself crashing straight into a tree. She was thrown off her bike, landing a few feet away and getting scuffed up with dirt and grass. Her legs burned, either due to the crash or the subconscious increase in pedalling speed, and she got up to assess the damage. Walking over, she found the bike in a decent condition with only a few minor scratches. However, as she leaned over to lift it back up, a small silver shimmer in the grass caught her eye. She held it between her fingers, lifting it up to her face. Damnit. A screw had fallen out of the bicycle, and with no experience in fixing any form of machine, never mind one that had just been painfully slammed into a tree, Brynn would have to walk it there and ditch the bike. The nagging doubt in the back of her mind reminded her she'd have gotten in some kind of shit eventually, but she couldn't help but feel a sting of guilt. Or maybe that was physical pain from the crash. Well, at least it's all the more reason to party it up, her mind echoed numbly, feet making their way over sticks and rocks as she followed a faint trail of other recent footprints, presumably from everyone else ready to have the 'night of their lives'.

The rest of Brynn's intrepid journey was less eventful, and certainly less painful. Following a trail of footprints, tire tracks, and shitty music like a more boring version of Gretel wasn't particularly her idea of fun, so she just hoped the payoff was worth it. Not like she was expecting much, given what she'd seen of the typical 'party goers' of the town. And, as she finished circling around a threatening looking fence to find some kind of entrance, her low expectations were certainly met. Fuck that, she thought, gazing upon the shitfest taking place at the entrance of the mill. She half-resisted pulling her gray Fall Out Boy t-shirt over her mouth, just to protect her from the increasing amount of angst in the air. That shit was probably going to kill her quicker than the 'radiation', especially if Mr. Popularity Contest was going to be bouncer all night. Her eyes scanned the crowd of rejected party goers, making her wish the angst would kill her already. Among the few losers whose names she remembered was Christopher Pope, a kid that made her almost grateful for her shitty-ass life. He was snooty, unbearably fucking gay and just couldn't quit, which made her all the more happy when resident tough guy, Gaben or whatever, looked 2 seconds away from strangling his scrawny neck like Bart Simpson. Unfortunately, she heard Chris make his leave with some comment about some guy called Hagan ruining the party spirit.

Quickly, Brynn made her own leave, navigating around the back of the mill to find Angst Fest Part 2 about to take place. I can't catch a fucking break. A a sigh escaped her lips, followed by an instinctual shoving of her hands in her pockets.

"Can we hurry this up? I got regrets to be having and the only one I got so far is coming here."

"Seconded." Came a voice that make Brynn almost shudder; the 'Wicked Bitch of the West' himself. Of course he'd be steadfast on getting into the VIP lounge. "I want to get smashed in the booze type, not the Hagan going hulk mode type." He smirked.

[Opposition]

---

---

^@Surtr
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Mill Interior Side Room

---

Well whatever the pair was up to, it was surely more interesting than a bleak room. It was crazy... Was Callie about to try and make friends? That would be something new. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe she was finally becoming a better person. Either way, Callie slid her form through the window, perching herself in a seated position upon its sill. Outside was her conversational partner who made haste in explaining that her cohort was retrieving a purse from the roof. Callie's inquisitive gaze rose up, an absent pair of eyes looking towards Kimberly's position. She had to give the pair props for getting this far. Resourceful, I guess...

"Well it looks like you've got it from here, or else I'd offer help." Callie kicked her legs a bit as she spoke. Oh just go for it, you idiot. "I'm Callie. Kind of surprising we haven't seen each other around, yet." It was a bit peculiar. Callie tended to remember every face she encountered. It was less of a superpower that it sounded, though. Really, she just maintained the will to remember. Callie found herself sorting through more words, falling momentarily silent after that. It was less awkward than it might have seemed, however, save for the fact that Callie always seemed to have a focused stare plastered on her face. It was as if she was analyzing her present company. She hoped they didn't think she was being judgmental. Perhaps they would have, at least if they had a chance.

Another guy strolled up to the party at that point, immediately jumping in to converse with the girl on the ground. Callie's gaze fell upon him, but he seemed almost entirely ignorant to her. Contrarily, Callie once again seemed drawn to him, trying to remember his face. It was all too unfortunate that the group increased in size once again before she could even speak up. Then again, would she even have spoken up to begin with? This new addition seemed to stroll up entirely by accident this time, though. With a snide remark, the whole conversation's flow was jumbled up once more. Callie offered the newcomer a simple acknowledging nod, choosing instead to allow the group that was actually outside that seemed to know each other to deal with him. Did he need dealt with? Honestly, he didn't seem like an awful guy.

Soon enough, the party out here gained another plus two, this time a girl and a guy who seemed like they knew each other. It had to be rivaling the inside of the mill out here by now. Well no matter what each person wanted, Callie was content just chilling in her window and taking a backseat role in the conversation. She was here first after all. That meant they had to include her right. "Welcome to the second party, I guess..."

[Mixtape Ghost N]

---

^{@Puffhead@Darquesse}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - VIP Entrance.

---

Claire couldn't help but sneer yet again at the "Wicked Bitch of the West," (Chris, honey, you only need the second word) as he made his departure. Leaving behind a parthian shot in the form of;

"Really? You could think of any insult in the world, and you pick fag? Anyways, since Hagan here clearly doesn't know how not to ruin the party vibe, I'll go find someplace else to grace with my presence."

Hearing that made Claire burst out into laughter - she just couldn't take Chris seriously! If he hates being called a fag, then why act like such a caricature of one? She could read Chris like a goddamn card - and so could anyone with the slightest amount of common sense. She could easily tell he was real small deep down. But most people didn't get close to him like she had (the mistake of a lifetime, I tells ya') and, well, she can say that he was small in more areas than one.

"Yeah, you go enjoy yourself..." Claire said, before cheekily adding on, "... Chris."

Course, that meathead Hagan didn't waste a moment in ruining her line of thought, "Yeah, you'll be gracin' anywhere but here, fag." He chuckled at Chris, "Buh-bye." He said in a stereotypically flamboyant homosexual tone, before shaking his head. The nerve of some people... but, he had given the asshole little thought. Now that he was gone, he was going to focus on business...

"Now that's over and done with..." Hagan dusted his hands off, and faced Clayton. That nerd Everett left - probably left to go rescue puppies or whatever. What he did was none of Hagan's concern. "Course, man! I'd love to let main man into the party."

He stepped to the side and opened the door for Clayton, "And you can enter, too, dollface."

"Thanks, Hagan," Claire immediately said upon getting that "green light," and stormed inside before Clayton or Hagan could say another thing. Once she got down to it: she wanted as much to do with them as she did Chris. Nothing. At. All. She could only give them a playful smirk with a shake of her hips as she stepped inside.

She almost grinned as she gazed upon the "VIP Lounge." It was, well, making the most of a dusty, old-timey, saw mill. It was enormous, and every inch of it was working around the machinery and whatnot that was left. Hell, Claire saw some people dancing on some of it - Uh, yeah, there was plenty of dancing going around the whole place. It was crazy, but she wasn't interested in that. There was one large table with drinks on one side, and that was all Claire wanted.

She waded through the crowds with her only intention being getting free booze, then maybe she'll see where that goes. There was lots of cute boys and gals here... Claire bit her nails as she thought about the possibilities.

---

^{@OppositionJ@Darquesse@Zombiedude101@Savo}
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc - Side... roof?

---

It didn't seem like the girl did anything other than believe the half-assed lie Jordan presented her. As it stood, however, Jordan had no reason to believe it was completely successful. She was a lot of things, and one of them wasn't naive. Still, the girl was sitting right there on the windowsill - a conveniently open widow (Or did she just open it?). If she had just left, Jordan could just get Kimberly to come down and they could find Derrick...

She didn't notice it; but the girl introduced herself as Callie... and she definitely never heard of a name like that before. Jordan regretted not getting to know everyone like she wanted to - because that'd make situations like this a lot easier.

"Jordan," The girl in question answered. "It's great to meet you, but I got this..."

Jordan was about to take a step, and stopped herself when she realized the whole ladder thing would make no sense if Callie saw how fucked up her leg was. Still, she (tried to) go about her business and hope that Callie fucked off so she can get Kimberly down here and they can sneak in. Of course, that went horribly wrong, really fast.

Well, first; she found Derrick! Woo! She was about to say something to him, buuuuuut... Jordan was starting to realize why she shouldn't have agreed with that crazy girl's plan: she flashed her panties and now everyone and their grandmother was walking up to them. Starting with some pale white boy, then some girl she never met before, and ending with Christopher Pope... the fuckiest fuckboy that Jordan ever laid eyes upon. She made sure to keep distance from King Fuckboy and his delusions of grandeur, but he was right here. Talking to her. The mere verberations made her shudder.

"Can we hurry this up? I got regrets to be having and the only one I got so far is coming here."

"Seconded." Came a voice that make Brynn almost shudder; the 'Wicked Bitch of the West' himself. Of course he'd be steadfast on getting into the VIP lounge. "I want to get smashed in the booze type, not the Hagan going hulk mode type."

The first girl and her attitude made Jordan give her a dirty look. Oh, little miss sunshine here just walked up to something she had no idea about, and then demands that they hurry up? Wow, she was totally making Jordan want to be nice and cordial to the girl!

Definitely.

"Well, little miss sunshine," Jordan said to Brynn passive aggressively. "You and your boyfriend are just walking up in here without knowing a thing that's going on - who are you to tell anyone to hurry up?" She put a hand on her chest as she gave the girl a look.

Though, from the roof, she heard a sharp cry from Kimberly, followed by a bang coming from the roof. That immediately made her forget about this brown haired broad, and the king of assholes. "Kim!?" Jordan shouted, worried about her friend as she looked up. "Shit!" She looked at the ladder, and knew that was one thing she was not going to try climbing.

Yet, her attention turned to Derrick, the only help she could find in this insanity. She limped over to Derrick, before pleading with him, "Rick," The nickname that Kimberly came up for Derrick, "I... think something happened to Kimberly, I don't know!"

She looked at Derrick for a moment, before realizing an apology was in order, "Look, I'm sorry for leaving you like that, that girl Kim and her crazy plans, but I don't think either of us can get up that ladder to check up on her."

Before she looked at the group.

---

More people were approaching, Kimberly knew it was maybe, perhaps, time to figure out an exit strategy before Hagan the meathead finds his way over here. Climbing down probably meant admitting that she was trying to sneak in (given that Jordan forgot her purse and Kimberly's satchel was definitely not a purse). Kimberly was starting to weigh her odds here... and realized that sitting here watching like a mong definitely wasn't going to work. Well, she might as well go for broke. She crawled her way back to the hatch, and pulled that knife out and went back to work.

Worst that'd happen if someone climbs up here or sees her? They just get kicked out. Thankfully, both of them have anonymity on their side.

It didn't take long, but she broke the rusted lock off, and smiled. She quickly threw the latch up, and peeked inside. All she saw was darkness... which meant that there was no one here. Convenient! All Kimberly had to do was sneak her way to an entrance and let Jordan and Derrick in... where ever he was. She wasn't sure! Kimberly tried climbing in, but she felt a strange sensation overtake her.

She grabbed her head as she sat on the edge of the hatch. Feeling woozy, she looked around and saw a red hue had become the primarily color, and all sounds were muted in her head. They transformed into a low screeching sound like an old metal structure that was bound to collapse. She looked around, and saw a bloody rust cover everything. Her eyes shot wide opened as she tried to rub her eyes, but noticed that the bloody rust had covered her hands. She shrieked for a moment, as a red light engulfed her vision and she began to fall into an infinite void, screaming...

... Then she hit the ground of the lumbermill, ass-first (and said ass will be very sore for a very, very, long time). She let out a grunt as her vision blurred for a moment, and she rubbed her eyes... but she couldn't see any of the red light, or rust for that matter. She was woozy, but at least she wasn't seeing shit. Okay, maybe this party wasn't a good idea. She's already going crazy and she didn't even touch a single drug!

She needed to get her bearings, and figure out where she is...

[Zombiedude101]

_{@Surtr@OppositionJ@Darquesse@Savo}

---

At least Nate had confirmed that the girl hanging out the window wasn't telling them to fuck off, the last thing he wanted is to deal with generic 'bro' douches spilling out of the lumber mill to shift them away and cause grief. Instead, the window girl had introduced herself to the girl at the foot of the ladder and was reciprocated on this.

Callie and Jordan - a pair of names that sounded like something of a chick flick. They didn't seem like assholes, though he wondered what the latter of the two meant when she said she'd 'got it'. Yeah, it definitely seemed more like she was trying to get on the roof for something - which explained the ladder. The former, on the other hand, just gave him a nod.

Before he could continue with that line of thought, two newcomers cut in to the one-sided clusterfuck of a conversation - one a kinda tall, lanky girl with short hair telling them to hurry up and the other being an unwelcome face he'd seen before, Chris Pope, seconding her suggestion and complaining about getting smashed or something. Hadn't he just tried a back entrance to avoid a crowded scene like this?

'Welcome to the second party' indeed.

It looked like things were getting juicy though, if Jordan's irritated response towards the two was anything to go by - and Nate wondered if any of it was going to turn into an even bigger clusterfuck.

He almost found it funny, but then came another interruption to things - a shriek erupted from the roof and the sound of something banging. In an instant, Jordan had turned her attentions towards the roof, shouting up to the roof. 'Kim' must have already been up the ladder, which explained why Jordan was at the bottom, probably making sure nobody stole it or knocked the thing over whilst hyped up on booze and whatever else was being pushed here.

Her attention shifted towards the guy on the cane, 'Rick' he overheard her say, before she said something about not being able to make it up the ladder. It made sense with this Rick guy, but her? Maybe she had a fake leg and he just couldn't see it in the dark, whatever - a part of his conscience was decent enough that he stepped forward after the two looked out towards the rest of their group, not-so-subtly suggesting someone volunteered.

"Fine, I'll check up on your friend since it seems l
ike you and House here won't make it." Nate idly waved a finger towards Rick, then set a foot on the ladder. "Besides, any minute longer with the Wild Bitch of the Wastes or whatever you call discount art school douche over there and I'm liable to staple my fucking ears to the wall."

Testing it was at least stable, he gave a grunt and began hauling his frame up there, each step making a light clatter of its own as the ladder rattled against the rood. "If I fall off this at least one of you is gonna be crushed, so hold it steady." Nate called down to them as quietly as he could, distracting himself from the fact that if he fell off, he was looking at the possibility of breaking something or worse. At least there would be a soft landing.

Eventually he hit the roo and as pop culture had taught him over the years, he decided not to look down. Instead, he slowly, carefully hauled himself over the top, balancing his weight against the roof tiles in the hope that something wouldn't give way or collapse, setting his focus on a hatch that was a little ways up, the latch already flipped over. So there was a way in.

Almost there... goddamn it!

His foot caught a loose tile sat near the edge, popping it loose and causing it to slide off the edge. Hopefully it hadn't hit one of the people below, but if it did it wasn't his fault, really - he was trying to do the right thing, even though the other half of his reasoning for being up here was to see if they had an easy way in.

"Fuck you, tiles," Nate muttered, just as he reached the hatch. First, he made sure he was on (somewhat) stable footing (or kneeling?) so he didn't follow this girl over the edge, then leaned over to peer below and called down. "Hey uh, Kim, yeah? Are you okay? Or at least not dead?"

[Scarescrow]

---

@Surtr
Thompson Lumber Mill Inc.

---

A headache had increased its intensity since Lee began to walk into this damp and abandoned lumber mill that had now been retrofitted by the students’ of Grand Ridge. Everywhere he saw, is a person laughing with someone else, or someone holding their drinks while chatting about something. There are also those that prefers to sit in the dark corner and using their phones. They all wear their black jackets with hoodies covered their heads, listening to music by their earbuds and moving their finger with an incredible speed that people like Lee could not even think off. But they too, talk with others around them. And others talk. And it seems that he had once again, becoming a lone wolf. Other around him fed him with rumors of others, why is this place abandoned, and stories that seem nothing more than myth and folklores about the town. There is just too much information that his brain could handle. And his fear start to come back when someone shout a syllable that are similar to “Lee." He swears at that moment everyone started to look at him with their mouth opened and closed. Some smiles while others grin when looking at him. He could felt the attention of the whole place shifting on his shoulder, making him to felt heavy. Lee started to mumble, his hands begin to shake again, and something taste fishy began to flow upward from his stomach. The jacket is now covering a shirt that was soaking wet at his back although the temperature is cool enough for everyone to felt comfortable with. Slowly, Lee started to bite his finger nail on the left hand, a bad habit that seem to lose in his memories. With each bite that chipped part of his nail away, Lee began to feel lighter, less stress about the situation around him. He don't know how long he had stayed there, bitting his nail. But a few minutes later, he tasted something salty and sweet flowing out from his left index finger. And without realizing it, Lee started to suck on it, sucking whatever that is coming out from his index finger until it the liquid stop to flow and replace by pain. And the pain snapped him out from whatever the state he is in and allows him to distinguish the unchanged environment around him. Still that laughter coming out from the nearby group of friends, still that blue light on those people faces, and those eyes that still dwell on him. Lee could even saw a girl looking at him before turning her head back to her group friends, laughing about something. And it seems his brain could not take this extreme toll of punishments as Lee began feeling something rushing up from his stomach. It was fishy, salty, and having a strange odor that penetrated his smelling for a moment. As a reflex, Lee used his left hand to cover his mouth, feeling the liquid to slowly flow back to his stomach. Lee mind started imagining what the liquid is, a combination of blood, bile, water that he drank before coming here, and something that he could not even think about.

Suddenly, a voice from someone that Lee knew had pull him out from this odd moment. Changing his head to where the location coming from, he saw an African American that is about the same age as him. The guy is much better build than him, relatively stronger and more muscular compare to Lee's slender and thin build. And he was the guy that invited him from to this chaotic party. And Lee appreciated it.
Lee smile, offering his right hand while looking at his friend that he made in this strange continents. But the feeling of uncomfortable is still remained unfix on his face, as his eyebrows become a little bit closer to each other than its normal state. But Lee, unwary about his facial expression, smile when he had found his friend in this mob, making him to be a little bit meaner and devilish.

"I'm fine." Lee grinned while shaking his head to show that Samson that he is completely fine about this place. "Could you show me more about this place? For I'm very eager to know more about my neighborhood."

Lee still holds his right hand out, waiting for Samson to shake it. Afterall isn't that is the normal way to introduce yourself? And at Lee's back, where the stage is held, the light flickered before changing into a velvet color.