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Realistic or Modern ❝ BURY A FRIEND. ❞

OOC
Here
Characters
Here

nymphadora.

𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙬𝙗𝙤𝙮.
when we all fall asleep, where do we go ?
[ the ceremony begins ]
 
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BURY A
FRIEND.
The air felt thicker than before. As the months leading up to weeks -- changing into long days of training -- until the ceremony, hardly anyone spoke with each other. And why would they? The looming possibility of meeting their death hung over their heads, a constant reminder that if they weren't up to the Academy's standards, they would fail their final exam. Not a single detail was spoken about the ceremony; teachers were required to stay silent, and rumours were silently killed by the headmaster with a deadly glare. Sleep quickly became a second priority as the latest selection of students practised through the night alone and through the day together, refining their skills one last time before the final day.

No one could expect what would happen once the ceremony began.

The group was enclosed into a bland office-like room, surrounded by four brick walls with a door on either side. There wasn't much within the room, besides the odd bookcase, desk and swivel chair. Their smartwatches -- a parting gift from the Academy, and their only form of communication -- buzzed to life with the awaited message from the principal with their mission.

Congratulations team on making it this far,
Enclosed in this message is your assigned (and possibly final) mission from the Academy and a map of your location. Your digital watches should be synced and work as a communication system, as well. If not, well, good luck with--


The sentences fumbled and scrambled together into an unintelligible mess. The screens blurred like a drunk man's vision until the watches couldn't handle it any longer, rapidly fading to a black screen. Time ticked, until the screens glowed back to life once more, flashing a message printed in a bright shade of red.

I have eyes everywhere.

The message felt wrong. The message disappeared in digital flames, turning off the watches as if nothing happened. The room fell silent, like a heavy blanket enveloping them whole, until the walls began to tick and their watches began to count from five minutes.
MISSION: ESCAPE THE ROOM BEFORE THE WALLS STOP TICKING.
[ please mention who your character is is interacting with and tag as well. include any weapons, if they brought any. ]

[ also note: the doors are very much locked. ]





 
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a few things caught her attention, and she made a mental list in her head. four brick walls, an odd bookcase, watches that were malfunctioning. nine members in the room. she reached down to feel the lever to make the chair go up and down, and while she groped around for it, she felt if there were any bumps along the padding of the underside. she felt quickly, her hand smoothing along the fabric, and found nothing as far as she knew. she went up and down a few more times like any other child would, appraising the room from different angles, and found nothing. time to go see the bookcase. serena wasn't a genius by any means, but she was well read. meaning that books like 'brave new world', 'common sense', and 'the prince' were light reading at night.

she stood up, her footsteps barely making a noise as she crossed the room to see the bookcase, and she crossed her arms once more, silently judging the bookcase. her eyes scanned the novels--pattern recognition. could she see a theme amongst the novels, eliminating the odd one out? 'i think that mister coldridge wouldn't make you differentiate between '1984' and 'the notebook', serena.' she thought to herself, allowing herself a small upwards twitch of her lips at her internal joke. she doubted that the stern man would even have time for the whirlwind romance between noah and allie. she had a feeling that the man's literary tastes were more aligned to the tastes of her father: malcolm gladwell and machiavelli, and maybe some dante if feeling frisky.

finding nothing jump out at her from her position at the bookshelf, serena slowly made her way to the desk, giving the impression that she was wandering. her small tangent on her novel selection had gotten her nowhere, but she didn't feel the disappointment. she glanced around quickly, looking at the others--well, don't look at her. she wasn't going to start the conversation. she made her way back to the desk and leaned against the teak wood, silently praising the designer of the room of the choice in desk. excellent quality. a small tap of her boots against one another reassured that her contingency was still present, based on the shift of material. she hadn't known what to expect, so she had prepared for the worst.

[/div] [/div][/div] [/div] [class=in1] height:18px; width:360px; float:left; margin-left:10px; margin-top:-7px; border:1px solid #c6a79b; [/class] [div class=in1][class=mini] height:14px; width:356px; background:#c6a79b; float:left; margin:2px 2px; [/class] [div class=mini][div style="color:#333;font-family:calibri;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:1px;line-height:14px;text-transform:uppercase;"]bleak[/div][/div] [/div] [class=rpblox] height:105px; width:100px; background:#c6a79b; float:left; margin:10px 10px; [/class] [div class=rpblox][div style="color:#333;font-size:45px;text-align:center;font-family:Arial;text-align:center;line-height:100px;"]SRE[/div][div style="color:#333;font-family:calibri;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:1px;line-height:14px;text-transform:uppercase;margin-top:-35px;"][/div][/div] [class=rules] width:270px; float:left; margin-left:-10px; margin-top:10px; [/class] [div class=rules][div style="height:20px;width:60px;float:left;background-color:#c6a79b;font-family:calibri;font-size:8px;color:#fff;text-align:left;letter-spacing:1px;line-height:20px;text-transform:uppercase;float:left;margin:0px 10px 0px 10px;text-align:center;"]tags![/div] [div style="width:15px;float:left;"] [div style="width:0;height:0;border-top:10px solid #c6a79b;border-right:10px solid transparent;float:left;margin-left:-10px;margin-top:0px;"][/div] [div style="width:0;height:0;border-bottom:10px solid #c6a79b;border-right:10px solid transparent;float:left;margin-left:-10px;margin-top:10px;"][/div][/div] [class=rulesinfo] width:270px; float:left; margin-left:10px; [/class] [div class=rulesinfo][div style="color:#fff;font-size:11px;line-height:13px;font-family:calibri;float:left;margin-top:5px;"]mentions: none at this time.
tags: none at this time.
role: the sharp-shooter
-serena renée evers [/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] code by @pasta
 
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[div class=title]murdoc.
[div class=text][div class=block style="background-color: #984a4a;"]with
serena (mentioned).
[div class=block style="background-color: #984a4a;"]tags[/div] thirteen thirteen
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Murdoc knew that the ceremony was going to be hard; it was, after all, designed by the sick mind of his father. It was also their final exam, but Murdoc still preferred to blame the sociopathic headmaster of the academy. But he didn't expect it to go from one to a hundred so quickly. Some dads enjoyed fishing, cooking or sports on a Sunday, as a hobby, but Murdoc's dad enjoyed sending teenagers to their doom instead.

But when the watches flashed red, and the walls began to tick, Murdoc knew something wasn't right. His stomach felt like it was doing back and front-flips, but he didn't dare let that show on his face; the last thing Murdoc needed was a passive-aggressive comment about his "leadership" skills. He stood quietly in the middle of the room, lowering his arm to his side as his dark eyes flickered around the lacking room.

The feeling on his daggers' cold blade was a comforting feeling for the male, the icy touch was a sharp reminder of where they were and who they were (or at least supposed to be) but throwing sharp objects wasn't going to help in their situation. His eyes danced across the edges of the ceiling, seeing nothing but bare walls. The Academy definitely didn't bother spending money on interior designing, he mused to himself. Quietly, Murdoc moved towards the door on the right, rolling his eyes at the sight of the key-pad guarding the lock. Well, that was a little unnecessary.

There wasn't a lot of talking going on, which slightly freaked him out. Murdoc knew they weren't exactly "conventional" -- they thrived off being the unorthodox kind; they were also teenage assassins which gave them that uniqueness about them. But with Serena spinning around aimlessly on the chair and the silence that felt like it was going to swallow him whole; the supposed leader of the group felt the lack of communication should at least concern him. Murdoc spun around on his heels to look at the rest of his team with a curiously raised eyebrow. "Is the other one locked too?" He asked. It was a stupid question, but it couldn't hurt to ask, right?

His eyes moved away from the group and towards the plain bookshelf instead, noticing Serena standing near it before moving away. Was it bad that Murdoc felt like he was under a little bit of pressure? He wasn't sure about the others, but he didn't exactly felt like dying today. Maybe it was the lack of sleep rattling his brain, or the possible inevitability of not making it out alive, but time felt like it was ticking faster than before which only made him feel even more nervous on the inside.
[/div]
 
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kaarle halko
pronunciation | "kar-lay"


location | the room


with/mentions | serena, murdoc


tags | nymphadora. nymphadora. thirteen thirteen
hacker

Kaarle felt absolutely no desire to talk to anyone. He usually never possessed that desire, but today especially. Today was the day. The day. the day everyone had been waiting for. The day everyone had been training for. The ceremony.

He was currently sitting in the corner of the room on the floor, laptop open in his lap and eyes glued to the screen in front of him. He knew his job would be to try and hack into the system and figure out the code to unlock the doors in the room. He was already beginning to run his codes and systems, frowning as it appeared harder than usual. Of course it was going to be harder than usual. These were the people who taught him how to hack into top notch security systems. Of course they'd make this test particularly hard, maybe throw in something he's never seen before. It was the final test after all.

Before he could get deeper into figuring out this hacking mystery, the red words flashed and a ticking sound began. Well, that was unexpected. For some reason he couldn't explain, he had a feeling this wasn't supposed to happen. Instead of focusing on figuring out the code to the doors, he was now focusing on figuring out just who the hell sent this message. Kaarle didn't even see Serena get up and move towards the bookshelf--he was way too preoccupied with figuring out whether or not this was a legit threat. Probably was.

Then he heard Murdoc's question. "Is the other one locked too?"

He knew Murdoc was asking about whether or not the other door was locked as well. Kaarle already knew the answer to that, but didn't say anything about it. "Why don't you go over and find out for us?" he suggested, not looking up from his laptop. He figured he'd get an unhappy retort for that but didn't really care. Right now, he was just a little bit busy with finding a way to get them all out of here alive.


code by pasta​
 
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[/div][/div][div class=charaname]Nikolas Thompson[/div][div class=text] [div class=tags]@nymphadora. [/div] [div class=tags]@moonchild. [/div] [div class=tags]@sarcasticqueen [/div] [div class=tags]@sereiin [/div] [div class=tags]@ShadyAce [/div] [div class=tags]@-sophie- [/div] [div class=tags]@Blatherskiter [/div] [div class=tags]@k o r o l [/div]
Mentions: Serena, Kaarle, Murdoc
Location: Scary Ticking Room


The art of pleasing
is the art of deceiving.


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The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Everything that they had been working for since they were eleven years old now rested on this one day – the Prius Mortis Ceremony. The weeks leading up to this had been hell for Nikolas; it was like everyone had been walking on the edge of a knife, irritability skyrocketing as they exhausted themselves day after day, the mounting pressure becoming a heavy weight on their backs as it slowly began to suffocate them.

Nik had done his best to keep a cool head on his shoulders, unwilling to succumb to the stress, a yearning ache in his chest replacing the anxiety. They were so, so close to leaving. Freedom was within reaching distance, and the long-forgotten hope that he had left on Coldridge’s doorstep all those years ago had resurfaced. All they had to do was survive.

Though the whole ‘surviving’ part was now looking a bit grim, the ominous red message sending a chill down his spine. Was that... part of the test? The niggling doubt in the back of his mind was only amplified when he realised that Mr Coldridge’s message had been interrupted before the mission was even explained. Then the countdown began, the walls ticking in unison – and if that wasn’t a flashing danger sign, then Nik didn’t know what was. It felt like his nerves had been set on fire, his senses becoming hyperaware of every little sound and movement. The rickety spinning of Serena on the swivel chair. The constant tap tap on the keys of Kaarle’s laptop.

Time was slipping through their fingers. They had to act quickly. Blue-green eyes quickly darted around the depressingly bare room, mentally categorising viable options of escape. Of course, there were the doors but they were metal and solid with the one on the right definitely locked tight and guarded by a keypad. Nik watched as Serena hovered over a bookcase before moving away – he'd had the same idea but apparently, it was a dead end.

The deafening silence made Nik feel a tad uncomfortable, though to be honest, no one had been in a talkative mood the few days prior and he couldn’t blame them really because even he (the guy who could talk the hind legs off a donkey) was notably quieter than usual. However, with their lives now on the line, Nik thought that this was where their team communication was needed the most. Therefore, it was a huge relief when Murdoc broke the silence by posing a question... a slightly dumb question, but a question nonetheless.

As the Illusionist, Nikolas had always felt somewhat... lacking when it came to being a trained assassin. He was the liar, the manipulator, the interrogator. The seducer who would stab his target in the neck as soon as they got their pants down. So, when it came to stuff like this, he felt out of his depth. His skills weren’t going to help them get out of a locked room, but if he was given the opportunity to at least do something, then he’d gladly volunteer.

Nik pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on, giving himself a quick pat to make sure the tactical knives he’d hidden on his person were still in place before confidently strolling across the room to the left door.

“I’ll check it, but if I end up becoming a smoking, charred husk I’m coming back to haunt all of you.”

Nik eyed up at the perfectly unassuming door handle, hesitating for just a split second, before clamping his hand over it, the metal cool relief to his heated palms. He’d half-expected something to happen – but nothing did. He pushed the handle down but, like the other door, it was definitely locked. Nik turned back to look at the group, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s locked. I’d be more surprised if it wasn’t, to be honest.”

He brushed his thumb against his lip as his eyes swerved to look around the room again, gaze landing on the bookcase. Serena hadn’t found anything out of place with the books but maybe...?

“How about we move that? There could be something behind it.”[/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [/div] [/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
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code by @pasta

post information

001 role: the medic
002 location: "the room"
003 mentions: serena, murdoc, kaarle, nikolas
004 tags: thirteen thirteen nymphadora. nymphadora. erised erised Chione Chione

DEVYN JAMES MEYER
→ "why don't you run from me?"


All Devyn could hear was the pounding 'lubb dubb' in his ears as blood rushed through his racing heart. The office-like room they'd been shoved into only minutes ago seemed harmless enough, but he knew better. There was something else in the air now, a cold feeling that hinted at danger. Whatever it was, the medic did not like how it made him feel. It was bad enough that this mission would be their last for the academy and, potentially, their last ever if they didn't pass the test. That mere thought alone was enough to send a shudder racing down his spine. But no, he couldn't think like that. He was logical; emotions were not welcome during missions, especially this one.

The feel of his watch buzzing against his wrist had the dark haired teen glancing down at his arm, eyes widening as he began to read the message present on the screen. But all too soon, it faded into a jumbled mess of mashed up words, causing Dev's brows to pinch together. "What the fuck?" His voice was a whisper, hardly loud enough for him to hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears. And then the next message flashed across the screen, only briefly, but long enough for him to read the chilling words. Swallowing thickly, the medic raised his head as the walls themselves began to tick, counting down the time. It was only a handful of minutes. Could they do get out of here before the clock reached zero? He fucking hoped so.

The boy's dark eyes flickered around his surroundings, taking in his teammates. Serena, spinning in the swivel chair. He knew her well enough to know she was analyzing the entire room as she went. Then Kaarle, on his laptop, typing away like his life depended on it. Which it did, Dev thought with a shudder. Next was Nik. And then Murdoc. As their leader voiced a single question, Devyn rose a brow and watched as Nikolas went to inspect the other door. The boy's statement as he went had him smirking a little, though he said nothing, not in the mood (for once) to make a sarcastic comment in response. Instead, he simply kept his eyes on his friend as he reached out and yanked on the doorknob. Nothing.

Heaving a sigh, Devyn ran a hand through his hair, gaze falling on the bookcase. "I'll help you move it, Nik," he murmured in agreement, striding over and grabbing one end of it. He may have been the team's medic and limited when it came to fighting and hacking into things, but he was strong and he'd sure as hell make sure he used that to his advantage.


i don't really
 
[div class=background][div class=second] [div class=topimg]
[div class=back] go back [/div][/div] [div class=border][div class=opacitybg][/div] [div class=box][div class=over]" ˢᵃʸ ᶦᵗ, ˢᵖᶦᵗ ᶦᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ "[/div]
Wilhelmina's blood was curdling within her. She almost already felt dead. This past year was tense, morbid, and silent. Her sleepless nights were spent studying and creating, while her days were filled with combat-scenarios. It all lead up to this moment. This pivotal moment; that would make or break the rest of her life.

Her wrist buzzed lightly, the first message of her (possibly) last day. Surprisingly, Wil was almost mute for most of the morning. She had been four cups of coffee deep, murmuring the periodic table to herself for comfort. She knew she was smart. She knew she was clever. But was that enough? The dagger tucked into her sock was the only cool thing in the room. You could practically see the heat emanating off of everyone. They all had the same thought of whether or not they would make it into their beds tonight. For a moment, everything was quiet.

tick, tick, tick.

Wil knew that sound all too familiarly.

tick, tick, tick.

Her watch flashed red. A chill ran down her spine. Was Coldridge really going to be where she died? The message was a warning unlike any other mission she'd been on before. Everything seemed too simple. Something about the ominous message made her feel there was more going on than she expected.

"Fighting fire with fire, huh?" she said, her mouth dry. Usually, she was the one to lighten the mood with a fun joke, but nothing seemed to come to mind. Her specialty, explosives, were going to be used against her this time around. She was sure that after five minutes the room would be in smithereens. She noticed Nik and Devyn going to the bookcase, but all she could think about was the machinery.

Kaarle went straight to the first door, already checking the system for code-breaking. She immediately went to the second door, examining the details.

"Four digit pin. Nine possible numbers. That would be," she paused, doing the math in her head. "Ten thousand combinations. Is that something we can even handle in five minutes, Kaarle?" She kneeled on the floor, facing the door. If she could get into the internal structure of the padlock, there was a chance she could disengage the alarm system to buy them some time.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed angrily. She had forgotten something. "A screwdriver." She couldn't get shit done without a toolkit, and of course, she didn't have it on her.
[/div][/div][/div] [div class=first] [div class=words][div class=i][/div]wilhelmina trietz
[div class=bottomwords]mentions: nik, kaarle, devyn
tags: Chione Chione , sereiin sereiin , MoonChild MoonChild
location: tick tock room
weapons: a fanny pack of explosives, poisons, and a handgun. one emergency dagger. [/div][/div] [div class=line][div class=fimgb][div class=input] [div class=block][div class=inputwords] go forward [/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [div class=c]made by: @undine[/div] [script class=input on=click] slideUp 2000 first fadeIn 1000 second [/script] [script class=back on=click] slideDown 2000 first [/script] [script class=input on=mouseenter] addClass op inputwords [/script] [script class=input on=mouseleave] removeClass op inputwords [/script] [class=background]height: 400px; max-width: 600px; boz-sixing: border-box; margin: auto; position: relative; overflow: hidden; border: 1px solid #f1f1f1 [/class] [class=first]height: 100%; width: 100%; background: #CFCFCF; opacity: 0.99; position: relative; top: -400px [/class] [class=second]height: 100%; width: 100%; background-image:url(http://images.8tracks.com/cover/i/009/023/707/Photo_May_02__2_41_40_PM-9568.jpg?rect=0,0,480,480&q=98&fm=jpg&fit=max); background-size:105%; background-position: 0% 30%; opacity: 1; position: relative; top: 0px [/class] [class=back]width:100%; height: 40px; padding: 20px 0px 0px 0px; margin: auto; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: 1.5px; word-spacing: 1.5px; font-size: 13px; color: white; position: relative; top: 305px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; cursor: pointer [/class] [class=line]height: 2px; width: 100%; background: white; position: relative; top: 130px [/class] [class=fimgb]position: relative; top: -95px; margin: auto; clip-path: polygon(0 50%, 50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%); height: 180px; width: 180px; background: #fff; padding: 7px [/class] [class=input]cursor: pointer; height: 180px; width: 180px; background-image: url(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/594320889609191456/600448558654685201/dianasilvers12.gif); background-size: 185%; background-position: 55% 100%; clip-path: polygon(0 50%, 50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%); filter: saturate(70%) [/class] [class=inputwords]height: 10px; padding: 5px 5px 10px 5px; width: 100%; display: block; background: #fff; color: #444444; position: relative; top: 85px; font-size: 10px; font-family: 'Playfair Display', serif; text-align: center; transition: all .4s ease-in-out; opacity: 0; position: relative [/class] [class name=op]opacity: 1 [/class] [class name=words]height:100px; width: 100%; font-size: 25px; font-family: 'Playfair Display', serif; position: absolute; color: #444444; top: 250px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 4.5px; text-transform: uppercase [/class] [class=topimg]height:100%; width:100%; filter: saturate(110%); transition: all .5s ease-in-out; position: relative; top: 0px; left: 0px [/class] [class name=topimg state=hover]filter: saturate(150%); [/class] [class=topwords]width:130px; height: 7%; border-bottom: 1px solid #94A12C; font-size: 12px; color: black; position: relative; top: 220px; margin: auto; font-family: 'Montserrat', sans-serif; font-weight: 700; word-spacing: 1px; letter-spacing: 1px; [/class] [class=bottomwords]height: 100%; width: 100%; font-size: 0.45em; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: center; font-style: oblique; top: -5px; line-height: 14px; letter-spacing: 0.2px; position: relative; top: 10px [/class] [class=border]height: 300px; width: 345px; position: relative; margin:auto; top: -371px; left: 0px [/class] [class name=opacitybg]height: 289px; width: 350px; border: 1px solid white; background: white; opacity: 0.8; margin: auto; position: relative; top: 5px [/class] [class=i]display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-style: italic [/class] [class=box]height: 80%; width: 90%; padding: 5px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Hind', sans-serif; margin: auto; position: relative; top: -265px; line-height:16px; word-spacing: -0px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify [/class] [class=over]height: 25px; padding: 10px 0px 0px 0px; width: 100%; background: #ACACAC; font-size: 10px; font-weight: 700; text-transform: uppercase; position: sticky; top: 0px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 2px; [/class] [class=num]display: inline-block; font-size: 11px; font-weight: 700 [/class] [class=c]width: 100%; text-align: center; opacity: 0; font-size: 10px [/class]
 
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Merrick Swailles
endure to the very end

location: the hell-no room

with: the gang



Merrick wasn't ready to speak for the rest of them, but walking into the off-puttingly mundane office reeked of 'oh, hell no' vibes. The hairs on the back of his neck had been standing upright ever since he'd stepped in here and he'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And it did.

He’d been reading the tiny letters on the watch strapped to his wrist, the voice of Dominic reverberating in his brain, that condescending tone of his almost palpable in the choice of words. For a brief moment when the watches malfunctioned, Merrick thought it was part of the plan. The thought dissipated just as quickly as the tiny screen turned black and he realised that this wasn’t in the headmaster’s nature; he wasn’t a jokester nor had he ever been the type to be unspecific. However, he was the type to purposely throw them off-kilter which meant that this hoax had as much possibility to be a troubleshooting problem than it did being a deliberate trick.

Then, the ominous message flashed on the screen and the tonality of the words made his blood turn cold for one too many seconds just as the walls began tick-ticking. A involuntary laugh escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck me,” He sighed, already resigned to the idea that this was the beginning of the end, and the best any of them could do was figure out what the hell all of this was about.

He remained quiet despite the hostile interactions taking place. He took the time to observe the room, doing a slow 360 in the process, and noticed nothing out of the ordinary, only the other members of the group attending to different parts of the room. By the time Nik and Devyn were at the bookshelf, Merrick finally decided to pitch in. He fumbled with his watch as he walked to Kaarle and set the device beside him. “Maybe the watch can give us an idea of what’s going on.” He looked down at the boy and simply shrugged before he turned attention to the bookshelf about to be moved.

His SAP gloves, modified to reap the most benefits from them, were made to move heavy things without damaging his palms. The gloves were useful for delivering blows and protecting his hands from blades and close-range objects, too. They were an all-in-one pair of gloves, an extension of his hands he barely removed. He had a Balisong knife tucked in his shoe as well, but that wouldn’t do him any good right now. “Here,” He said as he grabbed the opposite end of the bookshelf. “On the count of three. One, two, three-” Merrick inhaled and pulled his side of the furniture as far away from the wall as he could, and hoped that there was something of merit behind it.
codedbycrucialstar
 

kaden ronda

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"I'm not a broken kid. I'm a broken killer. "​

location: the fucking annoying room
with: Wil and the rest of the group
tags: ShadyAce ShadyAce nymphadora. nymphadora. Blatherskiter Blatherskiter sereiin sereiin sophie. sophie. Chione Chione
These little shits were too fucking loud. Kaden was trying to sleep, as he didn't get much last night. He never got a good night sleep since he came to this killer maker academy. His mother just left him because he wasn't what she wanted in a son. She never loved him in the first place. He was just someone to be there to showcase in front of people. He woke up from at most a 2 hour sleep, as the group trained almost all night. He was doing flips, throwing knives, and firing bow and arrows. He was only doing this because he wanted out of this academy. He wanted to be free of everything that tied him to this place, he thinks. Being free means that he would have to leave this group, and he doesn't know if he wants that.

A red message woke him up from his short sleep. Signalling it was time for the test, he got dressed quickly and walked out his dorm room. He quickly met up with the rest of the group where he sat down and slept. Hey, he never said that he was the greatest group member. He wasn't that deep into sleep, he was awake enough to hear what was happening. Once they moved the bookshelf, he decided to join in. Kaden rises up and looked at the group "You guys are too fucking loud. I can't fucking sleep, so might as well as help you all finish this. " He looked around and then saw Wil trying to open the case. He pats around his body finding a knife, he always keeps on his body. He walks up to her and hands her the knife. "See if that works little Wil. It's no screwdriver but it's sharp and I think you may be able to unscrew using it. "

Kaden then turns to the riddle. I am nothing? Well, that could mean many fucking things. The air is nothing, emotions are nothing, and this whole place is nothing. It's a secret fucking academy that only the elites send their kids to be trained to be killers. The riddle has to mean something in this room but what exactly? He looks around and sees nothing of use. He looks at his watch and sees it ticking down. Well, he doesn't feel like dying but he doesn't know what else to look for. The only thing is that case, and Wil needs time to work on it. They don't have it. That's a problem. A major one. Kaden just simply walks back to Wil and sits down by her closing his eyes. Trying to figure out what to do in his mind. Although it looks like he just decided to give up and go back to sleep. Even though if someone would have talked to Wil, or if she tries to shake him. He would open his eyes. If anyone else does this, he would probably ignore him. As Kaden only has a sweet spot for Wil even though he does care for Murdoc, and the other guys.
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codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll
 
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[div class=block]location[/div] the room.
[div class=block]tags[/div] n/a bc she doesn't talk to anyone specifically bc she's like that ok [/div] [/div]
Dajana didn't even want to be here.

Coldridge was never her plan, but it was all she had - and so, alike everyone else, she could feel the nerves constantly bubbling away just beneath the surface. The past few months had been intense, in their physical and mental strain, but the ultimate goal of graduation ensured Dajana could maintain her level-head without faltering. Still, what choice would graduating give her? She knew about knives, poisons and strategy, not anything that was a gateway into a relatively normal life.

Dajana forced herself out of her thoughts and into the world, or room, around her. Despite the quaint brick walls and bland furnishing, there was a thickness to the air, almost as though it could sense their oncoming doom. Doom was probable, considering this was their last twisted exam. Or alternatively, it was just the collective panic and fears of the students becoming palpable in their environment.

Dajana pursed her lips as she read the message on her watch. If it hadn't come from Dominic, it would almost seem supportive, but the underlying patronizing nature of the message was all too familiar. Though the watches malfunctioning was rather off-brand for Dominic. It was cartoonish, truthfully, the flashing red, the incessant ticking. And yet, it still felt terribly ominous. She couldn't figure out if this was the academy's way of making the test more realistic, or a real, exterior threat.

Her eyes flickered up, and around the room, searching for anything of importance. Though, something easily spotted wasn't exactly challenging, which contradicted everything this exam was supposed to be. In a few moments, whilst Dajana was still scrutinising the room, three members shifted the bookshelf, revealing some words on the wall. Dajana walked up to the etching, muttering the words "I am nothing." under her breath as her fingers delicately traced over them.

"They were carved," Dajana continued to think aloud, dropping to her knees and investigating the floor where the bookshelf used to be, ghosting it with her fingertips. "It's new. The debris is still here." It was a clue or perhaps more accurately, a riddle. Though riddles usually had a bit more substance than three words, and were designed to be enjoyed in a playful manner, not in a life-or-death scenario in an assassin academy.

The words repeatedly echoed in her mind, plenty of things could be nothing. Anything could be nothing. But, it was a riddle, intended to be a play on words and toy with the mind. But traditionally, having nothing of something meant having zero. And then the colloquial phrase caught in her mind, like a fish suddenly spying a lure in murky waters. Zilch. Zero. Nada—nothing. Not particularly directed towards anyone, but assertive enough that they'd catch on she think she had a solution, Dajana spoke her thoughts out loud. "Zero. Try four zeros." If it worked, it'd be rather ironic. It reminded Dajana of the Cold War, in which nuclear launch codes were set to all zeroes in case they had to be launched quickly in an emergency. And what else was prominent in the Cold War? Espionage, assassinations. Terribly ironic, and yet, Dajana still hoped it worked.
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[div class=title]murdoc.
[div class=text][div class=block style="background-color: #984a4a;"]with
everyone.
[div class=block style="background-color: #984a4a;"]tags[/div] everyone
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"Why don't you go over and find out for us?"

"Why don't you go over and find out for us, huh?" Murdoc quietly mocked underneath his breath, rolling his eyes at the team's hacker. But before he could even take a step forward, Nik offered and confirmed that they were truly enclosed in the room. The pace of the team was moving felt jagged, at least for Murdoc. Everyone was all over the place and with the irritating ticking from the walls -- and their pure grey tone almost making Murdoc want to lie on the floor and suffer through an existential crisis -- it felt like the group may as well just sit in a circle and wait for their deaths. However, as some of the team members aimed to push the bookcase forwards, Murdoc glanced at Kaden, swiftly rolled his eyes once more and went to join the rest of the team. Guess he's busy then, he mused to himself. Murdoc found his place, and with a big shove, he felt the wooden shelf move to the edge of the wall.

Murdoc's dark eyes studied the almost animal like sketching in the wall, his mind mulling over what could be nothing and worth writing a riddle about. "Jesus christ." He whispered under his breath, snatching the free swivel chair for himself with a sigh. His thoughts came to a blank; what could be nothing? It was certainly vague, that's for sure. The sound of Kaden's shuffling between Wil and the riddle was quickly getting to Murdoc. He wasn't going to mention their little banter; it wasn't really his place -- as much as he found it awful to watch, considering his own relationships.Time was ticking, quickly at that, and as time was escaping from them, Murdoc's patience was also quickly thinning out at the same time; perhaps even quicker. His hands rubbed his eyes and blinked rapidly, begging for the looming desperation for sleep to leave him alone for another few minutes.

Watching Dajana, a tired smile grew on his lips as he watched her study the wall. Her intelligence always astounded him, and the last few moments weren't an exception, her mind was simply brilliant. Murdoc nodded, pushing himself with his long legs to the door on the right. The cold metal of the numbered and lettered buttons sent a numb chill to Murdoc's fingers as he typed the suggestion in. Hope swelled like an orchestra, and as he pressed the final number, Murdoc's face fell.

Incorrect. Please try again.

"I- Fuck." He groaned, running a hand through his curls. "It isn't four zeros." Murdoc's gaze returned to Dajana, shrugging. Time was ticking. Murdoc raised his watch and glanced at the flashing clock: 2:50, 2:49, 2:48-

"Literally any and every idea will be good right about now, we've only got about three minutes to get the fuck out of here." The leader announced. With a raised eyebrow, Murdoc glanced at Kaarle once more, "Are you still struggling with the padlocks?"
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kaarle halko
pronunciation | "kar-lay"


location | the room


with/mentions | nik, merrick, wil, dajana


tags | Chione Chione Blatherskiter Blatherskiter sophie. sophie. ShadyAce ShadyAce
hacker
There it was. There was the reaction he'd been hoping for. Kaarle smirked when he heard Murdoc mutter the retort under his breath, however, the smirk soon disappeared. He made that comment intending for Murdoc to be the one to go check, not Nik.

“I’ll check it, but if I end up becoming a smoking, charred husk I’m coming back to haunt all of you.”

A look of concern crossed his features, biting his lip slightly. He quickly realized what he was doing and schooled his features back to their usual mask of cool indifference. "Haunting only works if the person you're haunting believes in ghosts," he muttered, making it very clear that he did not. He watched as Nik tried the door and then when nothing happened, went back to trying to figure out how to get out of here and who sent the message. So far, he was having no luck, and it was beginning to frustrate him.

Kaarle looked up from his laptop as Merrick stood over him and then watched as the watch was placed next to him. When he heard the comment, however, he shook his head. "I thought that too at first, but they're literally just communication devices. They just send and receive written or verbal messages. You can't hack into a system from them. Someone hacked into our mainframe and sent it out," And he definitely knew that was the case, but how they did it was beyond him. Their system was like... scary secure. Secure beyond secure. Either this person was the best hacker the world's ever seen or it was someone in Coldridge. He resumed his laptop studies as Merrick left and walked over to help push the bookshelf over.

"Ten thousand combinations. Is that something we can even handle in five minutes, Kaarle?"

He didn't look up or over at Wil as she asked him that and didn't even take a second to answer. "Nope. I don't even know how long it would take," And he certainly didn't have time to find out. Not right now. But when he did finally look over at Wil, he was confused. Why was she on the floor? "Why are you on the floor?" Kaarle wondered, voicing his inner thoughts. It made no sense. "Instead of being on your hands and knees, why don't you channel your inner scientist and rub whatever the hell that powder is over the buttons to check for fingerprints? Then you can tell me which four are being used, I can run it through a system and shout out each combination for you to try. That shouldn't take long." He didn't know much about science, but if that idea worked, then they'd be out of here.

Kaarle was just as confused as everyone else when the 'I Am Nothing' carving was revealed, and momentarily abandoned his hacking pursuits. What did that mean? He then laughed derisively when Dajana suggested four zeros. "That's like suggesting to someone to use password in the password suggestion box," There was no way it could work.

"However, it could potentially be a clue if we used the alphabet cipher key. 'I' is nine, 'A' is one, 'M' is thirteen and so on," He paused to figure out the numbers. "So, in full, it's 'nine, one, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, twenty, eight, nine, fourteen, seven." And now he had no idea what he was supposed to do with that or if it would even help at all.


code by pasta​
 
[div class=background][div class=second] [div class=topimg]
[div class=back] go back [/div][/div] [div class=border][div class=opacitybg][/div] [div class=box][div class=over]" ˢᵃʸ ᶦᵗ, ˢᵖᶦᵗ ᶦᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ "[/div]
"See if that works, little Wil. It's no screwdriver but it's sharp and I think you may be able to unscrew using it."

Wilhelmina laughed a little to herself, both out of humor and frustration. Kaden finally decided to wake up, which was new. Usually he wouldn't bother to help unless something athletic was involved.

"Thanks," she murmured, her focus still pinned on the code system. Ten thousand combinations. Dominic Coldridge really wasn't fucking around today. The stress was starting to get to her. If she tried to open this contraption up, Wil very well could accidentally kill someone. About to shove the blade into a crack in the machine, Kaarle finally piped up.

"Why don't you channel your inner scientist and rub whatever the hell that powder is over the buttons to check for fingerprints?"

The teenager lowered the dagger and slipped it back into Kaden's hand. Sometimes, it was too annoying that Kaarle was right. He was supposed to be a hacker, not a bossy asshole. He didn't know enough about chemistry and forensics to say these things!

"You mean talcum, stupid? Sure, let me just pull some Johnson's Baby Powder directly out of my ass!" Mina scoffed angrily. Normally, she wasn't one to lash out. But today was life or death. Today was an exception. Slowly, she took a deep breath to compose herself. "You know what? Maybe sulfur will work. I'm sure I have some lying round here," she stated, digging her hand around in her fanny pack. Sulfur was an important component for explosions, so she always had a little bit on her for emergency bomb-making.

The cool glass bottle touched her hand, and she was in business. Slowly and carefully, Wil opened the small vial of sulfur powder and took a deep breath. Murdoc hadn't touched the keypad facing her, which meant previous fingerprints could still be picked up. The more recent, the easier to read. If the powder stuck, it meant oils or other substances were present on the keys.

"Literally any and every idea will be good right about now, we've only got about three minutes to get the fuck out of here."

Three minutes. Wilhelmina had to act fast and proficiently. Her hands shook a little as she sprinkled the dust over the keypad, trying her best to not touch the surface. She didn't want to ruin the results, if any.

"Here goes nothing," she sighed. Would the powder stick? Would there be an answer?
[/div][/div][/div] [div class=first] [div class=words][div class=i][/div]wilhelmina trietz
[div class=bottomwords]mentions: kaden, kaarle, murdoc
tags: r e i r e i , nymphadora. nymphadora. , MoonChild MoonChild
location: tick tock room
weapons: a fanny pack of explosives, poisons, and a handgun. one emergency dagger. [/div][/div] [div class=line][div class=fimgb][div class=input] [div class=block][div class=inputwords] go forward [/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [div class=c]made by: @undine[/div] [script class=input on=click] slideUp 2000 first fadeIn 1000 second [/script] [script class=back on=click] slideDown 2000 first [/script] [script class=input on=mouseenter] addClass op inputwords [/script] [script class=input on=mouseleave] removeClass op inputwords [/script] [class=background]height: 400px; max-width: 600px; boz-sixing: border-box; margin: auto; position: relative; overflow: hidden; border: 1px solid #f1f1f1 [/class] [class=first]height: 100%; width: 100%; background: #CFCFCF; opacity: 0.99; position: relative; top: -400px [/class] [class=second]height: 100%; width: 100%; background-image:url(http://images.8tracks.com/cover/i/009/023/707/Photo_May_02__2_41_40_PM-9568.jpg?rect=0,0,480,480&q=98&fm=jpg&fit=max); background-size:105%; background-position: 0% 30%; opacity: 1; position: relative; top: 0px [/class] [class=back]width:100%; height: 40px; padding: 20px 0px 0px 0px; margin: auto; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: 1.5px; word-spacing: 1.5px; font-size: 13px; color: white; position: relative; top: 305px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; cursor: pointer [/class] [class=line]height: 2px; width: 100%; background: white; position: relative; top: 130px [/class] [class=fimgb]position: relative; top: -95px; margin: auto; clip-path: polygon(0 50%, 50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%); height: 180px; width: 180px; background: #fff; padding: 7px [/class] [class=input]cursor: pointer; height: 180px; width: 180px; background-image: url(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/594320889609191456/600448558654685201/dianasilvers12.gif); background-size: 185%; background-position: 55% 100%; clip-path: polygon(0 50%, 50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%); filter: saturate(70%) [/class] [class=inputwords]height: 10px; padding: 5px 5px 10px 5px; width: 100%; display: block; background: #fff; color: #444444; position: relative; top: 85px; font-size: 10px; font-family: 'Playfair Display', serif; text-align: center; transition: all .4s ease-in-out; opacity: 0; position: relative [/class] [class name=op]opacity: 1 [/class] [class name=words]height:100px; width: 100%; font-size: 25px; font-family: 'Playfair Display', serif; position: absolute; color: #444444; top: 250px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 4.5px; text-transform: uppercase [/class] [class=topimg]height:100%; width:100%; filter: saturate(110%); transition: all .5s ease-in-out; position: relative; top: 0px; left: 0px [/class] [class name=topimg state=hover]filter: saturate(150%); [/class] [class=topwords]width:130px; height: 7%; border-bottom: 1px solid #94A12C; font-size: 12px; color: black; position: relative; top: 220px; margin: auto; font-family: 'Montserrat', sans-serif; font-weight: 700; word-spacing: 1px; letter-spacing: 1px; [/class] [class=bottomwords]height: 100%; width: 100%; font-size: 0.45em; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: center; font-style: oblique; top: -5px; line-height: 14px; letter-spacing: 0.2px; position: relative; top: 10px [/class] [class=border]height: 300px; width: 345px; position: relative; margin:auto; top: -371px; left: 0px [/class] [class name=opacitybg]height: 289px; width: 350px; border: 1px solid white; background: white; opacity: 0.8; margin: auto; position: relative; top: 5px [/class] [class=i]display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-style: italic [/class] [class=box]height: 80%; width: 90%; padding: 5px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Hind', sans-serif; margin: auto; position: relative; top: -265px; line-height:16px; word-spacing: -0px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify [/class] [class=over]height: 25px; padding: 10px 0px 0px 0px; width: 100%; background: #ACACAC; font-size: 10px; font-weight: 700; text-transform: uppercase; position: sticky; top: 0px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 2px; [/class] [class=num]display: inline-block; font-size: 11px; font-weight: 700 [/class] [class=c]width: 100%; text-align: center; opacity: 0; font-size: 10px [/class]
 
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[class=cursor] height:558px; width:380px; margin:auto; cursor: url('https://raw.githubusercontent.com/anyhsalinas/cursors/master/c1a.png'), auto; [/class] [div class=cursor] [class=babe] height:100px; width:380px; background:url('https://media.giphy.com/media/iYR5EKSTB5OXC/giphy.gif'); background-size:100%; margin:auto; [/class] [div class=babe] [/div] [class=whole] height:458px; width:380px; background:#333; margin:auto; margin-top:-10px; [/class] [div class=whole][class=img] height:300px; width:170px; background:url('https://media1.tenor.com/images/6e8083a3696226098b208c7d47b01cf5/tenor.gif?itemid=6225117'); background-size:200%; float:left; margin:10px 10px; background-position:-60px; [/class] [div class=img][class=cover] height:100%; width:100%; background:#c6a79b; opacity:0.6; [/class] [div class=cover][/div][/div] [class=plotrules] width:190px; float:left; margin-top:10px; margin-left:-10px; [/class] [div class=plotrules] [div style="height:20px;width:60px;float:left;background-color:#c6a79b;font-family:calibri;font-size:8px;color:#fff;text-align:left;letter-spacing:1px;line-height:20px;text-transform:uppercase;float:left;margin:0px 10px 0px 10px;text-align:center;"]impression[/div] [div style="width:15px;float:left;"] [div style="width:0;height:0;border-top:10px solid #c6a79b;border-right:10px solid transparent;float:left;margin-left:-10px;margin-top:0px;"][/div] [div style="width:0;height:0;border-bottom:10px solid #c6a79b;border-right:10px solid transparent;float:left;margin-left:-10px;margin-top:10px;"][/div][/div] [class=container2] width:203px; height:275px; margin:0px -0px; overflow:hidden; color:#fff; font-size:11px; font-family:Arial; text-align:justify; line-height:13px; [/class] [class=scrollbar2] width:105%; height:275px; float:left; margin:10px 10px; overflow-y:scroll; [/class] [class=textbox2]width:92%; [/class] [div class=container2][div class=scrollbar2][div class=textbox2] Serena knew damn well that she wasn't doing much by leaning on the desk thinking--she needed to be able to work with something, hands on. She also doubted that the team would appreciate her if she did nothing but sit back--she didn't have the privilege of sleeping like Kaden did. It was a shame she wasn't a visual learner, but rather a mix, considering that she would have paid someone good money to remove the block on her visualization skills. A thought came to her, and it could be seen by the slight fluctuation in her expression--her eyes were distant and dark, as though she was mulling over something. "I know I'm not the best at this," Serena began quietly as she made her way over to Wil, "But if we took each of the numbers and the letters associated with each number and unscrambled it to form a word, would that be a starting point?" She asked in her quiet, ruminating manner. She held a hand up to maintain any attention she got, her way of explaining that she would go more in depth into her idea.

Serena reached inside her boot, pulling out a small tool that she used to assemble her sniper rifle, which was currently broken up in various places, tucked in different folds and crevices of her body. Hey, it was a closed room. There would be no reason for her to scope out an enemy and shoot. Besides, she wasn't tied to her guns. If she needed a fire arm, she would take one. Breaking her thoughts from the obvious weapon tangent, she slid over slightly to use the brick wall as her chalkboard, using the point of the tool to lightly etch the possible letters. "For example....nine would be w, x, y, z. Three would be d, e, f. Five is j, k, l. Six is m, n, o. And zero....well, damn it." She muttered, seeing the blank for the number. "Fine, we'll keep it as a wild card." She grumbled, internally cursing whoever decided to be so rude with this keypad.

Serena took a step back, looking at the letters that she had written on the wall in her neat script. A corner of her mouth twitched up in a smile as she chided herself for needing to be neat in a life-or-death situation, considering that she had written the letters in her cursive script. But there were some habits that she just couldn't break. "Off the top of my head, I would pick out words like 'node', or even 'weld'." She said before the inner constructivist philosophy jumped out. "But then again, that wouldn't make sense considering the context of the situation we're in." Serena rocked back and forth on her feet lightly, the even distribution and her movement being a conduit for her to think. Her left hand's fingers were fluttering once more, twisting the silver ring that sat on the ring finger of the same hand.

Serena swore under her breath before shaking her head. "No. That wouldn't be the only thing. We could repeat numbers too. Not a combination, but rather a permutation." She huffed slightly. That made things a bit more complicated. Rather than working with the given numbers, doubles and order became an important factor, implying that the range of the combinations had expanded and increased exponentially. "What about none? Nothing, none." She muttered, gesturing to the message engraved behind the bookshelf. "I know it's a stretch, but....I'm unable to see." She said, and her frustration was a clear undertone in the last statement. Her vision was cramped--and as someone who watched the whole picture from her perch most of the time, she felt crippled. "That would be...six, six, six, three. Hm. Sounds a bit too satanical for me. I doubt it would work." Serena said, shaking her head as she realized the code. The young woman let out a soft sigh as she began to pace back and forth, unable to keep still as she worked out the problem.

Serena stopped in her tracks, shaking her head. "But then again, what if it has to do with us? There's nine of us here, which is clearly one of the numbers. Not to mention, what if there's a whole zero in the middle of the word, but I didn't factor it in because the keypad is blank? Damnit, Kant." She huffed. Criticizing the man who had given her entire perspective on morals and viewpoints wasn't going to do much, but Serena was starting to understand the depravity of the simple string of numbers: there was an endless application. She shook her head for the hundreth time, and went back to sit on her desk and look at the letters and numbers she had written from a distant perch. "Kill." She said with a slight twitch of her lips into the smile. "That is oddly fitting and also fits the puzzle." She said, but her light tone made it clear that she didn't enunciate that in a serious manner. A thought occurred to her, and she leaned forward. "Kaarle mentioned the alphabet code. There are two nines in that code, and nine is one of the number possibilities on the keypad." She said, thinking aloud.

[/div] [/div][/div] [/div] [class=in1] height:18px; width:360px; float:left; margin-left:10px; margin-top:-7px; border:1px solid #c6a79b; [/class] [div class=in1][class=mini] height:14px; width:356px; background:#c6a79b; float:left; margin:2px 2px; [/class] [div class=mini][div style="color:#333;font-family:calibri;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:1px;line-height:14px;text-transform:uppercase;"]bleak[/div][/div] [/div] [class=rpblox] height:105px; width:100px; background:#c6a79b; float:left; margin:10px 10px; [/class] [div class=rpblox][div style="color:#333;font-size:45px;text-align:center;font-family:Arial;text-align:center;line-height:100px;"]SRE[/div][div style="color:#333;font-family:calibri;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:1px;line-height:14px;text-transform:uppercase;margin-top:-35px;"][/div][/div] [class=rules] width:270px; float:left; margin-left:-10px; margin-top:10px; [/class] [div class=rules][div style="height:20px;width:60px;float:left;background-color:#c6a79b;font-family:calibri;font-size:8px;color:#fff;text-align:left;letter-spacing:1px;line-height:20px;text-transform:uppercase;float:left;margin:0px 10px 0px 10px;text-align:center;"]tags![/div] [div style="width:15px;float:left;"] [div style="width:0;height:0;border-top:10px solid #c6a79b;border-right:10px solid transparent;float:left;margin-left:-10px;margin-top:0px;"][/div] [div style="width:0;height:0;border-bottom:10px solid #c6a79b;border-right:10px solid transparent;float:left;margin-left:-10px;margin-top:10px;"][/div][/div] [class=rulesinfo] width:270px; float:left; margin-left:10px; [/class] [div class=rulesinfo][div style="color:#fff;font-size:11px;line-height:13px;font-family:calibri;float:left;margin-top:5px;"]mentions: wil, kaden, kaarle
tags: sophie. sophie. erised erised @ everyone
location: where they're all going to die
weapons: sniper-rifle, disassembled. two handguns.
role: the sharp-shooter
-serena renée evers [/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] code by @pasta
 
[class=variables] --color: #c0b1d8; cursor: url('http://i.imgur.com/ZOrzC.png'), auto !important [/class] [class=container] width: 380px; height: 410px; margin: auto; [/class] [class=top] display: flex; width: 380px; justify-content: space-between; height: 30px; [/class] [class=name] font-size: 18px; font-weight: 900; transition: 0.5s; [/class] [class name=name state=hover] cursor: url('https://i.imgur.com/8akxkMH.png'), auto !important; color: var(--color); [/class] [class=tabsContainer] width: 170px; height: 15px; border-bottom: 1px solid black; display: flex; justify-content: flex-end; align-items: baseline; [/class] [class=tab] height: 20px; width: 20px; border-radius: 50%; border: 1px solid black; background-color: white; display: inline-block; margin: 5px; transition: 0.5s; font-size: 10px; text-align: center; box-sizing: border-box; [/class] [class name=tab state=hover] cursor: url('https://i.imgur.com/8akxkMH.png'), auto !important; border: 1px solid var(--color); [/class] [class=click] border: 1px solid var(--color); background-color: var(--color); [/class] [class=bottom] height: 380px; width: 380px; position: relative; [/class] [class=content] position: absolute; opacity: 0; transition: 0.5s; overflow: hidden; height: 380px; width: 380px; font-size: 12px; box-sizing: border-box; [/class] [class=scroll] overflow-y: scroll; padding-right: 40px; width: 100%; height: 100%; [/class] [class=show] z-index: 1; opacity: 1; [/class] [class=role] font-size: 18px; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 900; letter-spacing: 5px; text-align: center; [/class] [class=imgSmallContainer] width: 80%; height: 70px; display: flex; justify-content: space-between; margin: 10px auto; [/class] [class=imgSmall] width: 90px; height: 90px; background-size: cover; background-position: 50% 50%; [/class] [class=title] text-align: right; font-size: 16px; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 900; [/class] [class=img] height: 200px; width: 380px; background-image: url('https://www.bellazon.com/main/uploads/monthly_2018_03/813A729D-927E-4E1B-8F92-88D57CAEBACA.jpeg.667fc1ff7cf2ebb6b21184ff395bd994.jpeg'); background-size: cover; float: left; margin-right: 5px; [/class] [class=block] width: auto; height: 16px; padding: 0px 2px 0px 2px; display: inline-block; background-color: var(--color); color: white; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; [/class] [class=text] width: 190px; height: 90px; [/class] [script class=name on=click] removeClass click tab01 addClass show contentHome removeClass show content01 [/script] [script class=tab01 on=click] addClass click tab01 addClass show content01 removeClass show contentHome [/script] [div class=variables] [div class=container] [div class=top] [div class=name]dajana vasiliev-novaković[/div] [div class=tabsContainer] [div class="tab tab01"][/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=bottom] [div class="content contentHome show" style="padding-top: 50px;"] [div class=role]THE INTELLECT[/div] [div class=img][/div] [/div] [div class="content content01"] [div class=scroll] [div class=imgSmallContainer] [div class=imgSmall style="background-image: url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/cd96c05a4cf740f3fd4de72588d2dabc/tumblr_ol6v06VPc21sqstgio3_400.gif');"][/div] [div class=text] [div class=block]with[/div] everyone.
[div class=block]location[/div] the room.
[div class=block]tags[/div] nymphadora. nymphadora. , erised erised , sophie. sophie. [/div] [/div]
Dajana's brown eyes flickered to see Murdoc hastily press in the code, only to follow up his curse with one under her breath. She had just about one job, one talent. That was to be 'the intellect'. Dajana was always certain her skill set was the most useless in the room. But she'd still like to exit alive and with her limbs in tact, so the sunken feeling of defeat quickly got ushered away by the adrenaline pumping in her veins. No shit Sherlock. Dajana knew Murdoc well, and he was much to prone to stating to the obvious.

"Sometimes the hardest answer to find is the obvious one. The way we're trained results in over analysing. And it wasn't my idea first, ask the people who operated nuclear warheads in the seventies and eighties." Dajana let a smirk creep onto her lips, glancing over at Kaarle. Their relationship was most heavily defined by their battle of wit, throwing statements laced with sarcasm at any chance they got. Though Dajana will admit his comment made her slightly more irritated than usual; she was not in the mood to be taunted.

The room, despite being filled with frantic energy, stood still for Dajana. She continued to cautiously move around, half-heartedly investigating things, more focused on her inside thoughts, which resembled cogs. As one whirred into life, so would another, creating a chain that refused to stop, especially with the ever-decreasing time forcing her to think faster. She had to think faster.

"Too many numbers, it's a four digit pin." She commented on the theory of the alphabet cipher, not even sparing a glance to Kaarle. Dajana's gut kept screaming at her that it was zero, and his suggestion of letters to numbers led her to her next option. It was a keypad, and even if it wasn't something their generation had to be as accustomed to, numbers had to represent letters on phones for texting. Serena was also on the right track, but Dajana had already flown past and begun translating. And that code, despite being frighteningly simplistic, was their answer. She was certain of it. 9376.

Before she could speak, Wil pulled out some powder, her fingers deftly working with the chemical. Dajana was surprised she looked so focused, she couldn't recall another time seeing that kind of expression on the other girl's features. As soon as the powder clung to some of the numbers, Dajana withheld a smirk. "Try 9376. Zero."
[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
 
[div class=background][div class=second] [div class=topimg]
[div class=back] go back [/div][/div] [div class=border][div class=opacitybg][/div] [div class=box][div class=over]" ˢᵃʸ ᶦᵗ, ˢᵖᶦᵗ ᶦᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ "[/div]
Wil was beaming, almost about to scream out of joy when the sulfur stuck to the buttons. Only four keys were part of the password, but five were touched. It could easily have been a mishap with the passwords, or someone forgetting the code. Regardless, her little experiment worked. At that point, any of the nerd members with half a brain could realize the code was 'ZERO.' Serena suggested 'none' and 'kill.' Though possible, they were both seriously unlikely.

"Guys, I got it! The code is definitely ze- .. "

Wil was immediately cut off by the louder, more respected person in the room.

"Too many numbers, it's a four digit pin. Try 9376. Zero."

Her heart sunk a little. Obviously, it was wonderful that the code was cracked, but it hurt somewhat that her work was so easily discredited by the flick of Dajana's wrist. She'd always been a little smarter, a little faster. Even when Wilhelmina had a breakthrough, Dajana had already figured out how to do something better. The sentence was on the tip of her tongue. If she had just worked a little faster, put in a little more effort, would the outcome change? Or would she always get second place?

"Yeah. Zero," she said simply. Her eyes were sad, but she wouldn't let anyone get to her in the first mission. Especially not her catty teenage rival. Quickly, she punched in the four digit pin. She didn't even have to look to know Dajana had won once again.

Was it stupid to be jealous of another person's image? Especially in a high school based solely on the ability to kill, it seemed novelty. In almost everything, someone else shined above her. Like most times, Wil kept her mouth shut. It was better to not show the defeat in her tone.
[/div][/div][/div] [div class=first] [div class=words][div class=i][/div]wilhelmina trietz
[div class=bottomwords]mentions: serena and dajana
tags: ShadyAce ShadyAce thirteen thirteen
location: tick tock room
weapons: a fanny pack of explosives, poisons, and a handgun. one emergency dagger. [/div][/div] [div class=line][div class=fimgb][div class=input] [div class=block][div class=inputwords] go forward [/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [div class=c]made by: @undine[/div] [script class=input on=click] slideUp 2000 first fadeIn 1000 second [/script] [script class=back on=click] slideDown 2000 first [/script] [script class=input on=mouseenter] addClass op inputwords [/script] [script class=input on=mouseleave] removeClass op inputwords [/script] [class=background]height: 400px; max-width: 600px; boz-sixing: border-box; margin: auto; position: relative; overflow: hidden; border: 1px solid #f1f1f1 [/class] [class=first]height: 100%; width: 100%; background: #CFCFCF; opacity: 0.99; position: relative; top: -400px [/class] [class=second]height: 100%; width: 100%; background-image:url(http://images.8tracks.com/cover/i/009/023/707/Photo_May_02__2_41_40_PM-9568.jpg?rect=0,0,480,480&q=98&fm=jpg&fit=max); background-size:105%; background-position: 0% 30%; opacity: 1; position: relative; top: 0px [/class] [class=back]width:100%; height: 40px; padding: 20px 0px 0px 0px; margin: auto; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: 1.5px; word-spacing: 1.5px; font-size: 13px; color: white; position: relative; top: 305px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; cursor: pointer [/class] [class=line]height: 2px; width: 100%; background: white; position: relative; top: 130px [/class] [class=fimgb]position: relative; top: -95px; margin: auto; clip-path: polygon(0 50%, 50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%); height: 180px; width: 180px; background: #fff; padding: 7px [/class] [class=input]cursor: pointer; height: 180px; width: 180px; background-image: url(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/594320889609191456/600448558654685201/dianasilvers12.gif); background-size: 185%; background-position: 55% 100%; clip-path: polygon(0 50%, 50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%); filter: saturate(70%) [/class] [class=inputwords]height: 10px; padding: 5px 5px 10px 5px; width: 100%; display: block; background: #fff; color: #444444; position: relative; top: 85px; font-size: 10px; font-family: 'Playfair Display', serif; text-align: center; transition: all .4s ease-in-out; opacity: 0; position: relative [/class] [class name=op]opacity: 1 [/class] [class name=words]height:100px; width: 100%; font-size: 25px; font-family: 'Playfair Display', serif; position: absolute; color: #444444; top: 250px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 4.5px; text-transform: uppercase [/class] [class=topimg]height:100%; width:100%; filter: saturate(110%); transition: all .5s ease-in-out; position: relative; top: 0px; left: 0px [/class] [class name=topimg state=hover]filter: saturate(150%); [/class] [class=topwords]width:130px; height: 7%; border-bottom: 1px solid #94A12C; font-size: 12px; color: black; position: relative; top: 220px; margin: auto; font-family: 'Montserrat', sans-serif; font-weight: 700; word-spacing: 1px; letter-spacing: 1px; [/class] [class=bottomwords]height: 100%; width: 100%; font-size: 0.45em; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: center; font-style: oblique; top: -5px; line-height: 14px; letter-spacing: 0.2px; position: relative; top: 10px [/class] [class=border]height: 300px; width: 345px; position: relative; margin:auto; top: -371px; left: 0px [/class] [class name=opacitybg]height: 289px; width: 350px; border: 1px solid white; background: white; opacity: 0.8; margin: auto; position: relative; top: 5px [/class] [class=i]display: inline-block; font-size: 30px; font-style: italic [/class] [class=box]height: 80%; width: 90%; padding: 5px; font-size: 11px; font-family: 'Hind', sans-serif; margin: auto; position: relative; top: -265px; line-height:16px; word-spacing: -0px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify [/class] [class=over]height: 25px; padding: 10px 0px 0px 0px; width: 100%; background: #ACACAC; font-size: 10px; font-weight: 700; text-transform: uppercase; position: sticky; top: 0px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 2px; [/class] [class=num]display: inline-block; font-size: 11px; font-weight: 700 [/class] [class=c]width: 100%; text-align: center; opacity: 0; font-size: 10px [/class]
 
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[div class=title]murdoc.
[div class=text][div class=block style="background-color: #984a4a;"]with
everyone.
[div class=block style="background-color: #984a4a;"]tags[/div] everyone
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Murdoc always found it fascinating to watch Dajana work; watching her study the wall and bounce ideas off the others, certainly radiated better leader skills than he did. Instead of dwelling on the thoughts that floated in his mind, Murdoc listened to Dajana's suggestion. His dark eyes lingered on Wil's face, noticing her the sudden shift in expression. The last thing Murdoc needed was drama; their time had depleted from two and a half minutes to about a minute left. He swore he had more time, but there wasn't enough of it to fret about the watch's pacing. He twirled around in his spot, almost punching the code into the padlock. His heart raced as the deadly sound of the walls ticking echoed through.

49, 48, 47- "Thank fuck."

A wave of relief crashed over him as he swiftly bent down to the door handle and pushed it open, the satisfying sound of the door unlocking giving him a bit of hope that maybe -- just maybe, they weren't going to die. "C'mon, let's go." He called out, allowing everyone to pass him before slamming the door behind him. Murdoc's back stiffened against the cold metal of the door, waiting for the sounds of something terrible to happen from within the room they were just encased in. Yet, there was just pure silence. Zilch, nothing, zero. "I can't believe we nearly died." Murdoc murmured, not to anyone particular, but it felt appropriate to voice his thoughts after what just happened.

His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest, but he stayed quiet and recollected himself. The male didn't even realise where they stood until the low sounds of cackling echoed through the new room and a screen built into the wall flashed in front of them.
Oh shit.
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BURY A
FRIEND.
It was soon time. Watching the group scramble around like headless rats was entertaining, to say the least. From their gymnast sleeping on the job to catty smile that grew on the intellect's lips yelling out the answer like a teacher's pet. Not even the greatest comedian could write this kind of stuff. With everything in place and an affirming nod, he quickly got in place and flicked the red button on. He had full view of them, each detail in high quality like a fine painting as they stood in a sterile hallway. A low cackle grew from his stomach and escaped his lips, something like a villain from a Bond film. He wasn't much older than them, perhaps a by a few years, but his face certainly didn't look like it. There was a twisted tugging at his lips, while his blue eyes simply gazed at the camera.

"Wow, you guys really are the worst huh. Nearly thirty seconds left and you just make it." He murmured with a smile, a trail of laughter following his words. "Not like much was going to happen, either way."

There was chilling calmness to his actions, energetic and excited almost, like he was a cartoon character. "What a bunch we have here!" He cried cheerfully, inching closing as his face filled up the screen, "We have Kaden; who really couldn't have kept it in your pants, buddy? Wilhelmina, I- who forgets their own equipment? Serena, more interested in a swivel chair than her own life, fair." The male nodded, his bright eyes studying the rest of the faces, "Kaarle, being a gamer isn't everything. Dajana, you really don't like being left out apparently, the teachers must really like you. Merrick, all brawn and no brain. Nik, babe, how does it feel to be hardly trusted? I know how that feels, trust me. Who else am I forgetting- Oh! Murdoc, you're still a failure I see."

The different shades of confusion and anger that danced across their faces was like a positive review for him, and the perfect sign to keep going. "You, little golden boy." He pointed towards Murdoc with a bitter grin, "Daddy's fucked up and won't be helpful during graduation I'm afraid. But not to worry! You guys get special treatment today with a passing ex-graduate as your supervisor." He leaned back in his chair and grinned at the team, relaxing his shoulders into the chair. "Have fun, don't die, blah, blah, blah. Oh, watch your step if i were you." He winked before the transmission flickered off; leaving the kids to themselves.
MISSION: FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO NEXT.





 


Merrick Swailles
endure to the very end

location: the roasting hall

with: the gang



Between finding the phrase behind the bookcase, listening to the group bicker about the numbers, and finally cracking the code, Merrick had stayed quiet and simply observed. The last thing needed was another voice to the chaos, and by the time he'd thought of the code, Dajana had beat him to it by a few heartbeats. He hadn't been surprised, in all honesty, if there was one person capable of taking charge in this group it was her. It seemed as though she'd been the only one keeping a cool head in their moment of panic. It was what they had all needed.

As they rushed into the next room, Merrick knew it was time to get out of his head. As if on cue, a bigger, much larger head Merrick didn't recognise filled the room. In his confusion, he took a small step forward, ready to take on whatever incoming danger might be looming over them. The boy spoke, put on a show as he rattled on his weak attempts to trigger them; as if the years of their previous training would throw them off kilter thanks to a few petty jabs. Glancing over his shoulder, however, and remembering how some of his mates had acted in the previous room, Merrick suddenly wasn't sure if his sentiment was shared. He dully noted that the ticking in the other room had stopped.

It was clear, more than ever, that this was not part of the official graduation ceremony. That boy was linked to Murdoc in some way. Either that, or the boy had a hell of a grudge against Mr. Coldridge. It wasn't hard to believe someone could hate the headmaster so profoundly. When the spiel was over, Merrick raised his arm a bit, as though to discourage anyone from taking a step forward (because it wasn't obvious already not to do that), and squatted to observe the floor ahead of them. "Is there any way to check for plates under the floor?" His question wasn't addressed to anyone in particular, but his eyes drifted over to Wil and Kaarle. "There might be motion-sensored lasers built into the walls, too." Admittedly, this was probably the only good thing that had come out of substituting his night training for binging the Spy Kids movies. Twice.

Merrick paused for a second, an afterthought striking the urge to say, "Whoever that guy is, he's not fucking around. Let's try not to rip each other's heads off before he does. Hell, he's probably rooting for that."
codedbycrucialstar
 
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location. ColdridgeTV Hallway | mentions. wil, merrick, murdoc, dajana | weapons. sniper rifle, disassembled. two handguns.
The Sharp-Shooter
With the proclamation of the code, Serena's expression hadn't changed. Rather, it remained stony; the success of the team was quickly overshadowed by the problem concerning Wil and Dajana. "Well done, both of you." She murmured, her inflection clear on the last part of the statement. Her gaze swept across the room and she leveled a stony look at Dajana: Serena wasn't impressed with her action. She managed to catch Wil's eyes, and though her facial expression didn't change, she nodded once, a calm look of understanding and appreciation. The last thing they needed was for drama to come between them, and Serena definitely knew that nothing good was going to come out of two of the most intelligent minds working against each other. Now, it wasn't to say that Serena was a whole cheerleader by trying to unite the team, but she was logical: she understood how much cohesiveness factored into success rates.



She noted that Murdoc had seen the change in expression in Wil's face and had sensed the drama between the two girls, and Serena waited for him to reprimand his teammates, but that never came. A spark of irritation rose up in her--he needed to put them in their place to make sure this didn't escalate to a bigger scale. She would have pulled him aside to quietly question his lack of action, but they weren't like that anymore. Instead, she leveled another meaningful look at him, a look of detachment and disappointment. He'd understand. Serena exhaled quietly, closing her eyes for a moment, as the door opened. While she was grateful for the fact that they were out of the room within the time limit, she was also wary: what was up ahead? More tests for them to pass? Somehow, she had a feeling that the tests were not about the individual themselves, but rather about the way the team functioned with one another.



Serena hung back around, waiting for everyone to pass her until she was the last one, save Murdoc who was holding the door. "You have one job. Do it." She murmured to him in the same detached voice that she had been using with her ex-best friend, her eyes boring a hole into his. Honestly, that comment was rather tame compared to the other things she had said threateningly to others. Everyone always assumed that Serena would be the scariest when angry, but no. She was the scariest when she spoke in the voice that held so much contempt and hatred while maintaining a cool facade of disappointment. She passed through to the other room, her shoulders tense and her eyes immediately looking around. There seemed no security threats, atleast, not to her knowledge. She crossed her arms, looking very much like the brooding figure she was made out to be.



Well, it wasn't a room, rather a hallway. That could either be a blessing or a curse, the jury was out on that. She watched with all the others as the screen crackled to life, watching the man who seemed so content with their upcoming demise. Hmm, something told her that this wasn't regularly scheduled programming on ColdridgeTV, but she doubted he would appreciate if she asked him to go away. That joke dissipated as she heard his taunts against specific members of the team. Oh, boy. Looks like this man was everywhere. "I really liked that chair." Serena murmured indifferently with her signature shrug. Her face remained impassive as she watched him ramble on and on, talking about each of their weak spots. Hm. Seemed like a heavy grudge against Murdoc and his father. Quite possibly a takeover. She doubted that they were the main targets--they were just fun side casualties. The Coldridge family was the target. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she wasn't sure if she could cross the line between indifference and cockiness. If they did die here, she didn't want anyone to hold a damn eye roll against her.



But that eye roll eventually did come into play. She met Murdoc's eyes and eyerolled the hell out of hers. It was the first friendly contact she had had with him, but also a way for her to enunciate that she was still on his side. Her mission became a lot more clear: she was watching everyone's back, but his especially. Clearly, this moron was delusional and was not a part of the actual ceremony, and had a sad boy fit against the Coldridge family. "Special Treatment" her ass. She wondered if she should shoot out the transmission, but she didn't want to tempt fate. Besides, he said to watch their step. That warning wasn't given easily, rather at the end, a dismissive statement. As the transmission flickered off, she listened quietly to Merrick. "Good idea." She murmured. "Let's all maintain a calm composure. No one should move until we figure this out." She murmured calmly. "Avoid any big weight distributions too. There might be a chance that he's playing around with us, but I'd rather not risk it." She explained, knowing full well that these idiots would question her logical reasoning just because they were bored. "I think we might have to get rid of our watches as well." She said, thinking fast. Contaminated tech was never good.

tags: sophie. sophie. Blatherskiter Blatherskiter nymphadora. nymphadora. ShadyAce ShadyAce
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post information

001 role: the medic
002 location: "the hallway"
003 mentions: murdoc, merrick, serena
004 tags: nymphadora. nymphadora. Blatherskiter Blatherskiter thirteen thirteen

DEVYN JAMES MEYER
→ "why don't you run from me?"


Those four and a half minutes spent in that room were utter hell. Devyn felt marginally useless, his med skills clearly unneeded at the moment. Could he list every fatal med he had access to in ten seconds? Yes. Could he unlock a code that would get them out of here alive in under five minutes? Not exactly. It wasn't a good feeling knowing he was potentially dragging his team down, but he remained silent all the same, logic reminding him there was still stuff he could do to help out without getting in the way. Like moving that bookcase.

It'd worked, too, for they'd discovered their first hint behind it. With the chain of events, his teammates managed to figure out the code to the padlock, with a little help from Wil's powder, of course. But even in the adrenaline-heated moment when Dajana suggested the code, Dev didn't miss the way Wil's expression shifted into one of irritation. It bothered him, for he understood her feelings behind it, but now was not the time to start letting things like that get to her. They needed to focus on getting out of here alive.

Then Murdoc was at the padlocked door, punching in the code. The medic held his breath as he reached for the door handle, though when the door opened without a hitch, Devyn felt like he could finally breathe again. The nine of them pushed through the door in single file, until they were cornered in a rather random looking hallway. He shuddered at the low cackle that echoed through the walls before he noticed a large screen, the entirety of it filled with the face of a boy who didn't look much older than them. Dev had never seen him before, but with the words he spoke, he was thankful he hadn't. This guy sounded like a total dickhead, taunting his teammates. Yet, he never heard his own name mentioned, causing the tiniest of smirks to tug at his lips.

Moments later, the screen flickered to black, once again leaving the nine kids to themselves. Devyn overheard Merrick and Serena speaking out, to which he nodded in agreement. "There could literally be anything down that hallway. I think we need to prepare for worst case scenario and try to think up everything we can that might go wrong," he voiced, before his gaze flickered to Serena. Almost instinctually, he rubbed the metal ring on his left ring finger, but didn't let it distract him from her suggestion. "Good idea. The watches are fucked anyways. I don't think we can trust them," he agreed, shooting her the tiniest of smiles before his eyes danced around to his other teammates to see what they thought.


i don't really
 
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[/div][/div][div class=charaname]Nikolas Thompson[/div][div class=text] [div class=tags] nymphadora. nymphadora. [/div]
Mentions: Everyone
Location: Hallway to Hell


The art of pleasing
is the art of deceiving.


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Was it really smug of Nikolas to give himself a mental pat on the back for his stroke of genius? Yes. Did he give one single flying fuck? No, not at all. As the bookcase was moved, revealing their first clue as an edgy message with a poetic twist, Nik couldn’t help but think that he was giving Dajana a run for her money. Yes, he was feeling that self-satisfied. Of course, Nik’s burst of intelligence seemed to peak at just that one moment because afterwards, he had absolutely nothing to contribute. It was like a chain reaction, the domino pieces falling over as the rest of the team took the first clue and ran with it. Everything began falling into place and Nik was content to sit back for a moment and let all the smartarses handle it.

The Illusionist did what he does best: observe and gauge. He felt like it had been a while since they’d last had to think hard over something together, and even though they were working with one another, it still felt strangely dissonant. That would have to be fixed soon. The only thing that was more frustrating was Wil’s obliviousness to the feelings of their lovestruck gymnast.

Ideas kept flinging back and forth, and it might’ve been entertaining to watch the brainiacs hash it out if their lives weren’t potentially hanging on by a thread. Wandering eyes settled on Kaarle (one of the aforementioned brainiacs) and Nik remembered his earlier comment, affection warming away the chill of dread that had sunk deep into his bones. They were close enough for Nik to know what was hiding behind that quip. He dragged his gaze away to concentrate on what was being said, finding himself nodding along to words like ‘permutation’ and ‘cypher’ even though he had no clue what they meant.

Eventually, Dajana does swoop in and save the day with 9376 being their winning ticket out of there. Though Nik’s attention was snagged on the slightest twitch of Wil’s expression, her eyes looking particularly downcast from where he was standing. Like a few others, he wasn’t blind to how Wil had been abruptly cut off just as she was announcing her own discovery and he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for her – but time was of the essence.

They were all herded out of the room with less than a minute to spare; a huge wave of relief washing over him, leaving him very grateful that he was still alive and in once piece. He knew that their trials were far from over but at least some of the pressure that had been building up from that stupid ticking noise had melted away. It was short-lived though. A creepy and painfully cliché villain’s cackle coming through a screen in the wall, the face of a young man greeting them. Well then. That definitely wasn’t Coldridge.

Nik stared as the stranger moved closer to the camera, desperately trying to grasp onto some semblance of recognition; but no, this guy was an unknown threat. The guy began talking but Nikolas zoned out as he tilted his head slightly. From that angle, the strange man wasn’t bad looking but he obviously didn’t even come close to holding a candle to -

“Nik, babe, how does it feel to be hardly trusted? I know how that feels, trust me.”

His train of thought was completely derailed and he didn’t have the time to think before his mask cracked, revealing a wounded and unguarded expression. An unreadable emotion glimmered in the depths of his green-blue eyes but it was gone as quickly as it came. Damn, this guy really knew how to prod at the sore spots, didn’t he? It was an insecurity that Nik would’ve preferred to have kept buried forever but it would be easy enough to gloss over it through diversion.

“Wait, did he just call me babe?” Nik ‘accidentally’ thought aloud before quieting to listen to Merrick, Serena and Dev. If the mystery man’s parting comment was anything to go by, there was definitely something dodgy about that corridor and Nik didn’t really want to see what would happen if they didn’t trust his words. However, he still had no idea how they were going to figure out how to walk down it. For now, he’d do as advised and remain as still as possible.

His lips parted for a moment, about to say something, before thinking better of it. Nik didn’t think a little joke about throwing a sacrifice down the corridor would be appreciated right now. Instead, he’d ask about something else.

“Hey Murdoc, I don’t suppose you know that guy, do you? Looks like he has a bit of a vendetta against you and Coldridge.”

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kaden ronda

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"I'm not a broken kid. I'm a broken killer. "​

location: the fucking annoying room
with: everyone, the whole killer crew
tags: ShadyAce ShadyAce nymphadora. nymphadora. Blatherskiter Blatherskiter sereiin sereiin sophie. sophie. Chione Chione
Kaden opened his eyes but then closed his eyes after he felt his knife returning to his hand. He was of course listening the entire time, that the little shits were figuring this out. He wasn't sure what he could do. He was mainly the guy with the athletic ability, and although he isn't dumb by any means. His mother didn't fail in teaching him in the education sense. Just in the loving him part of things. He was good with school but not like these guys. He would never tell it to their faces, they already have big heads. The best thing for him to do is to stay out of this one until he was needed.

Then Kaarle had to say something to little wil. Now he wasn't gonna do anything, Wil would have killed him. They were friends for some reason. Kaden just stayed quiet, he would do some....revenge later on. Something with johnson baby powder since the boy suggested it. Kaden listened as Wil figured out what the code could be using sulfur. With minor help from Kaarle. He silently grins at Wil's genius. She was the scientist of the group so of course she could and would figure it out. She was brilliant and Kaden was proud of her. The group aside from Kaden tried to figure out the code with seconds left to go. Right when Wil was about to say something, Dajana popped up with something that he was pretty sure that Wil had figured out but he wasn't gonna do anything. That's between the girls, and the one thing that the guys had learned from growing up with them is that you don't try to fix anything about the girls' relationships. Plus he cared for both of them and didn't want to take sides.

Then the creepy dude came into the picture and insulted him. He snorts. Keeping it in his pants? The damn idiot didn't know anything about him, he may be a flirter but he isn't a player. He is still a damn virgin. So he can keep it in his pants. Then he insulted the rest of his team, and that wasn't ok. He was the only one allowed, with Dev to insult anybody in his team except Wil. Wil is off-limits and this bullshit asshole just went too far. He raises up from the ground groaning and looking at his team. "I mean he does have a point that we are fuck-ups but he doesn't have the right to call us that. " He looks at his teammates and then to Merrick "I'm cool with not sleeping on the job, and actually helping. The dude pissed me off, only I and Dev have the right to call you idiots, well idiots."

He then goes to Dev's side and nods along with him about the watches although he speaks again. "We should keep one though. What if he's expecting us to throw out all of the watches. Or if there's another countdown. I don't think we should keep all of them but I do think we should keep one. Probably not Daddy Coldridge Junior's one though. He seems to want to just fuck with you and making a fake countdown...heh...should probably do that for a prank." Kaden laughs softly at his mind

[/div][/div]
codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll
 
kaarle
location: the creepy hallway
interacting with: wil, nik, merrick, devyn
tags: sophie. sophie. Chione Chione Blatherskiter Blatherskiter sereiin sereiin
Kaarle watched as Wil took his advice and rubbed some kind of powder onto the buttons. He watched as the code seemed to click in her mind, how she was just about to announce it when Dajana beat her to the punch. Of course. He didn't say anything, but as the door opened, he shut his laptop and stood to walk out with everyone else. Just before he crossed the threshold leading to the hall, he stopped, squeezed Wil's shoulder as an apology, and continued out.

Well... he sure as shit had never seen this hallway before. But before he could really try and figure out where he was, some guy he'd never seen or heard of before appeared on the screen and started insulting them all. Unlike everyone else, who seemed slightly fearful and confused, Kaarle just wore a bored expression. When he heard the comment that was meant to insult him, he just laughed. "I don't think I've ever played a video game, but okay then," he muttered. But then, after Dajana's insult, they started getting crueler. His gaze darted between Merrick, Nik and Murdoc, but lingered on the latter two, the usual emotionless gaze replaced with a hint of concern.

Like before, he hid it quickly and instead focused on Nik's comment. "Yeah, think he did call you babe. Just like he called me a gamer when I've never played a video game before in my life," he muttered, thinking that if you wanted to insult someone, at least find an insult that actually hurt. However, he knew that it hit a sore spot with Nik so he kept quiet. When Nik asked Murdoc that question, Kaarle turned his attention to Merrick.

"Is there any way to check for plates under the floor? There might be motion-sensored lasers built into the walls, too."

"Checking for plates would be Wil's specialty, but I can try to hack into the floorpans, blueprints and security systems to see if there are any high security lasers," he offered, shrugging. It wouldn't be hard to do, really. He didn't say anything about the watches though. They were literally like walkie-talkies and nothing could really happen with them but if everyone wanted them off, he wasn't going to fight them.

And for some reason, everyone seemed to think that the next person to take a step would be blown to smithereens. "Why are you all acting like there's land mines in the floor or something? he wondered. "That 'watch your step' comment could have meant watch your step because there's trip wire somewhere and when it's tripped, bam! Arrow straight to the heart." Morbid, he knew, but that could have been the warning.

As he was waiting around for replies, his gaze landed on Devyn and saw the way he smiled at Serena and played with the ring. Kaarle rolled his eyes dramatically and nudged Devyn on the shoulder. "Maybe save the flirting with your girlfriend until after we're no longer faced with imminent death?" he suggested, but the smirk on his face said he meant no harm.

code by arctic
 

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