deegee

Absolom

Deacon -- post up for you. Just a little one.

Absolom

"Damnit," He muttered. Deacon had been cutting away for what seemed like hours. Finally he got what looked to be about half way through. Summoning his strength, he pulled his arms apart and the zip tie snapped, falling in the sand. Deacon stretched and inhaled the cool night air. The slight scent of sea salt wafted in from the waters. Sure Deacon was alone, and anybody he saw would most likely try to murder him, but Deacon was happy to finally be free. An alpha male and a man of principles, he didn't like the prison system.

Getting to his feet he looked down at his clothes. The basic orange prison rags any inmate had. No shoes. Then he reached down his pants to his inner thigh. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes that were taped to his skin. Perfect time to light one up. He pulled one from the pack and then cursed under his breath. He didn't have a lighter. He popped it back in and groaned in annoyance. Regardless, he still had a few hours of night left and travel at night would be safer than day. The looming forests around him casted stark shadows along the coasts. He began his walk to what he presumed was the south of the island.

@Ztlabraptor211

All was silence around Deacon. This terrain wasn't terribly difficult to traverse, as the forest stayed fairly sparse and the ground sandy even inland. Here and there, were the remnants of life. The remains of a cooking fire. An open, rusty tin, the label long gone. A bit of blue cloth, the size of a small rag, stuck on a bramble. The going was easy for the time being, though Deacon saw no immediate signs of life, trails, or useful items. Sunup would be in about two hours, and then at least he'd know which way was North...

Absolom

Replies up for Jacques and Olivia. Deacon -- yours is on the way.

Absolom

Jacques feels nothing but hatred and disdain for these 'people'. Most of them are scum: those without ambitions, purpose, or meaning in their lives. Violence simply for the sake of violence. They are animals and he is not. Jacques recognizes an attempt to frighten him but is under no illusions: it will be backed up with potentially deadly action. At the very least, these fucking beasts want to test him and the other new arrival. He couldn't care less about her. As he listens carefully for a moment for where the calls seem thinnest, he finishes squirming out of his jumpsuit. They're close. Real close. He picks out a direction and runs as quickly as his legs will carry him, ready to fight at any moment.

@Force and Fury

Fight or flight. Fight or flight. He smiled. These were new. Clean. They smelled like the world. Fight or flight, it was. Oooh, look. That little piggie was stripping off in anticipation of a good fuck. As soon as he bolted, the watcher whistled. a shrill, short burst, and three tumbled out of trees, out from behind bushes, and gave chase. He wouldn't get far. There had been no particular instructions. (different whistles for different needs, you understand...) so whether that one came back, or came back in pieces, didn't matter. The watcher looked to his right, the two pairs of white eyes peering back at him out of the darkness. "Get me the girl." He blew, as if blowing a mosquito off his arm, and in doing so, the two pairs of eyes disappeared. The watcher went back to cawing like a crow being molested by a chainsaw...

---

Behind Olivia there was a rustle. A certain motion of the long grass. Her companion had decided his fate, while she crouched on the ground. Her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, and soon she could make out her surroundings. She was in a small clearing, maybe roughly 100' in circumference. It was the crest of a hill, not terribly high in elevation -- but high enough to make an obvious landing zone. The tree-line that surrounded the clearing was thick, dense bush, and in the darkness, there was no telling which way had the easiest terrain.

The rustle behind Olivia became a definite shape, as a man, small, wiry, emerged from the tall grass, a dozen paces from her position. He smiled, and a thin bead of drool dripped from his thin lips. He moved quietly, and as he did so, drew two long, thin blades from behind his back. Pinpointing the source of her immediate trouble, Olivia's attention was drawn to the man with the blades, until there was another rustle, immediately to her right, barely three feet from her right shoulder...

---

Jacques ran. And it wasn't long before he heard the whoop and caterwaul of pursuers. At least two. Maybe more. He picked up speed quickly, realizing that his path led downhill at an ever-increasing angle. Trees, branches, vines and thick underbrush whipped at his arms, his face. Visibility was less than twenty feet, and maintaining any pace meant glances behind him were next to impossible, lest he place a foot wrong or run head-long into a tree. Whoever they were, they were close, and they didn't care who heard them coming.

Absolom

Hahahaha! Ok!

Absolom

wait -- so Jacques is naked? Or just in his unders?

Absolom

Replies coming!

Absolom

I was going to allow as much as a week... sometimes the wheels turn slowly, gotta allow for RL.

Absolom

@Xandrya-- based on the contents of your last post, we'll have to wait for @Force and Fury to reply before I can give you any more to react to, since you have done things to / with his PC that requires a reply.

Absolom

"H-hello?" she managed to whisper.

@Xandrya

There was certainly movement. It was dark as pitch, but after a few moments of allowing her eyes to adjust, she could make out another form. Clad in the same orange prison garment she wore. It struggled a little, but then lay still. She could hear its laboured breathing behind what was sure to be another gag.

Something had changed. It was still. Very still. And the temperature in the air had shifted, she was sure of it. Or maybe it was the dew, or the cold sweat running down her spine. No -- something about her location had changed. The sounds. The animals -- they were gone. It was like she had fallen into a hole in the world. But then, off to her left, a sound. Monkey? Bird? Now off to her right, farther away. What was that? Hyena? A scream. A call of some sort. Now behind her. The sounds began to overlap, from all sides, all directions. The warped, twisted "calls of nature" that it didn't take DeLuca long to realize were the taunts of... people. Shrieks. Cries. Mimicry, if you could call it that. These were the calls of the depraved, the lost, the barbaric. How far? Maybe 150 feet. Coming from where? Seemed to be all sides. The only consolation was, at least for the moment, they didn't seem to be getting any closer. Louder? Yes. More plentiful? Yes...

---

G R I D - S Q U A R E 4 4 - E

All was silence, once the helicopter departed. No return trip, then. my bags are packed... I'm ready to go. The zip-ties wouldn't be terribly difficult to cut, but he'd need to do it soon. They'd been cinched tight, and circulation was becoming an issue, his fingertips turning blue, and feet numb. All around were the sounds of nature, a cacophony in his ears. Sounds he hadn't heard in an age... I'm standing here outside your door, I hate to wake you up to say good-bye. Heat. Humid, stifling heat that caught in your throat, and set a powerful thirst about a body... heat like the noon-day sun in a roasting pan, in hell. A gull of some type set down on a boulder not far from him. But the dawn is breaking, it's early morn, the taxi's waiting, He's blowing his horn. There was no sign of anyone, anywhere. And though it was freeing, and he could almost rest easy knowing the Man wasn't breathing down his neck, the Gull mocked him. Already I'm so lonesome I could die...