Realistic or Modern Killing to Survive

[DarkiusHeavenstein]

If you really want to participate in this roleplay, please shoot me a PM I might be able to open a spot for you


Two people alone on a huge, further desolated, island. They have to work together and have to stay within a radius of 5 meter of each other. If they survive the month, one wish of each person shall be granted by the government...


What could go wrong? Well, maybe they are not the only couple on the, presumed desolated, island. And well, maybe one of them is not as innocent as the other... Let's see how the story goes...

 

[DarkiusHeavenstein]

Viriu Tapio ran a hair through the long blond hair, braiding it, than loosening it and braiding it again. It was just something he did most of the time to keep himself busy. Ice cold blue eyes stared straight into his through the probably one way mirror, while he kept the same position the whole time he waited. Patience was one of his strongest points, like a snake he could keep the same position for hours, before striking on his prey. Another thing he was good at apparently was provoking people, especially authorities. He had been one step ahead of them every damn time. It amused him endlessly and was his way of keeping his life interesting and challenging.


Until that stupid bitch had betrayed him from the inside and put him away in jail. For the murders he had commited he was quickly sentenced to deathpenalty. That was the reason he was here right now this very moment, to extend the one week he had left alive and to have a chance to get his wish of Anonymity granted. He thought he made a good chance since he was good at survival, and it would be best if his partner would keep up with him. He had never cared about anything, except maybe some of the gang members that were close to him. Never the less he was not a man to show any emotions or feelings, he was a cold person and he didn’t mind at all. By keeping people at a distance, he kept himself safe from betrayal and backstabbing, or so he had thought.


He moved forward, placing his elbows on the table as he let his blond hair fall loosely around him. Black shirt and black pants were his usual attire and today was not an exception, daggers and knives were hidden on different places of his body, all within reach. He had been quite surprised he had not been checked on weapons, but he hadn't complained at all. Kuolema, as he was called on the streets, through the underworld, by Interpol, police and in the media, would have felt naked and vulnerable without his lovely blades. That nickname had been given to him by the first people that had ever showed him some kind of love, or at least respect. He had quickly worked his way up from errand boy to 'cleaner'. And from that moment on the Kuolema-killer had been born. With every murder he committed he decorated the wall, floor, dresser or body with his name and if he did not have the time a simple K would sustain.


A small smirk played along his lips, that was the closest he would ever get to smiling if he was not killing someone. He ice blue eyes pierced almost through the door as this made a soft clicking sound, it wouldn’t be long this his partner would be revealed. Or victim… It would all depend on the other person and how things turned out to be. He would be lying if he said he was not excited, it was always fun to meet new people.

 

[Gitmuny]

Virgil rushed out of his apartment to the taxi-cab parked outside. He knew it was for him because he was the only person that lived in the tiny apartment block, and he knew it was from the people running the organization because well, Virgil never had visitors. He lived a rather lonely life, but he didn't consider it sad, or pathetic. He enjoyed being alone, although he wished he sometimes could have someone to talk to other than himself.


The driver stepped out and opened the door for him, he flashed an awkward half-smile at the driver and stepped into the black Mercedes. It was definitely a nice car. The windows were tinted from the inside, and another person sat next to him. Virgil examined the situation, he felt as if he was some sort of VIP and these men were protecting him, but the men were just hired guns, and a driver, probably ordered to kill Virgil if he didn't comply to their standards. His palms grew sweaty, and he cleaned his glasses off just so it looked like he had something to do, but in reality, he couldn't wait to get out of the car. "Where are we headed?" He asked the man next to him, his top was a bit loose, Virgil noticed the concealed handgun holstered to his chest. The man remained silent, "ah, yes, I'm not supposed to know I assume," that would explain the tinted windows.


Virgil lost track of time but he eventually made it to his destination. A sack was draped over his head as if he were some sort of hostage. This group was taking a whole new meaning to the term secrecy. Footsteps. All Virgil could hear were footsteps, lots of them. Did he really have a guard detail around him ? He was just a regular person, they were treating him like a maximum-threat prisoner. He heard a voice call out down the hall, seemingly belonging to an intelligent man, or someone of status in this compound. "Yeah, bring the subject over here! His partner's been waiting, and from the looks of it he's not one to keep waiting." Great, Virgil thought to himself, he could already tell he was going to be conducting experiments with some sort of lunatic. Maybe a mob boss ? He wondered. Nonetheless, he was anxious to meet his partner.


The heavy, grey, door smoothly glided open. It looked just like an interrogation chamber. cameras in the corners, a see-through mirror. Okay, he was definitely being treated as a convict. "Please, have a seat.. Mr. Coxx," the man that had spoken just moments previous knew his name, maybe he was the head of the project. Virgil swung around and faced the older man, and shook his head nervously. He didn't say anything though, the man seated in front of him looked terrifying. Virgil pulled the chair out from the table, and sat in it. He extended his hand to the blonde man and said "Hi.. I'm.. I'm Virgil, Virgil Coxx," He noticed again how sweaty his palms were and he retracted his hand, denying the man an opportunity to shake it. He probably wouldn't have anyways. He wiped the sweat off onto his trousers and looked around the room. He wasn't good in face to face situations, especially when it was silent. Awkwardly,dreadfully silent. He studied the man, who he had still not known the name of, he looked Norwegian perhaps, but Virgil could be wrong. He also noticed his icy eyes, ones of a straight up, stone-cold killer. Chills distributed themselves along Virgil's spine but he brushed it off pretty quickly. I wonder what made this fellow want to participate in such a project, dare I ask him ?

​

((hope this isn't too long/short, using coloured text for dialogue just to make things easier))

 

[kira blackthorn]

Crimson hummed as he amused himself with a rubic cube. The nice lady in blue gave it to him after he complained that he was bored. He soon grew bored however and threw the completed cube at a nearby wall. It made a pretty sound when it hit it shattering to pieces. Giggling he leaned back in his seat and looked around curiously shoving his hands in the pocket of his blue hoodie. The room was small and scarcly decorated. In other words it was borrriing.


Crimson sighed leaning forward to rest his head on the desk. When he took up the offer to gain his freedom by surviving on an island he hadn't thought he would be bored before he even arrived. Speaking of islands he wondered what the island would be like. Would it be full of fluffy animals? And if so what? Monkeys? Ferrets? Bears? The mere thought made him smile. He liked animals. They didnt judge.


He perked up hearing the click of the door. Sitting up he watched it in anticipation nervously fiddling with his blood red hair which was tied in a tight braid. He wondered who it was. Was it the other person? If so he hoped they were nice. He didn't like mean people. They were the reason he wasn't free.

 

[yistae]

Xander was bored out of his flipping mind. There was nothing in the room. Literally, nothing. What did they expect him to do, off himself if they hung a stupid picture on the wall? Morons. Already he was disliking the whole "experiment" thing, and was --not for the first time-- kicking himself mentally for agreeing to play along. Prison was bad, with him being labeled as 'Inmate 22768', but the few people who'd talked around --not actually to-- him so far had referred to him as 'Subject'. Sighing, Xander lifted himself up and sat on the edge of the table, swinging his feet absently as he let his mind wander. They'd given him clothes before he came, so that was good. His orange jumpsuit had been thankfully replaced with his favorite pants, an old pair of grey acid washed jeans that were supposed to be basically skin tight, but apparently he'd lost some weight in prison because the jeans hung a little baggy and bunched up around his ankles. A plain white v neck had been provided, along with his black hoodie which currently occupied one of the two chairs in the room.


The other chair was no doubt for his partner. The one he didn't know he had until they stuck him in the stupid room to wait for them. Hell, if Xander had known that he'd have to survive a month with another person he wouldn't have thought twice about it. But then again, if he finished the stupid survival thing, he'd be free and no one would be able to see what he did to Kayla. 'Just one month,' he reminded himself, looking down at his tattoo of a phoenix on his right upper arm, it seeming to stare up at him with black inked eyes. 'I can totally do this! Piece of cake.' He grinned to himself and laid back, laying down on the table in a very awkward --but surprisingly comfortable-- position with his legs still dangling over the edge and his head hanging off the other. Xander could feel the blood rushing to his head, the slightest feeling of his pulse in his temples that distracted him and pulled his focus from the room to a different one.


Xander was in the same basic situation, his head hanging upside down, but he was fighting a grin and pretending to snore. The rest of him was sprawled out on a cheap brown couch, lean body lazily draped over the cushions and --right in the middle-- a giggling young woman. She was by no means unattractive, but she had a simple, natural beauty. Her eyes were a warm, green grey colour, and shoulder length auburn hair fell slightly in her face as she laughed at the young man and tried to push him off. "Come on you big lug," she said, her voice teasing and full of mock seriousness. "Get off!" As she said that, she succeeded in getting Xander off of her and --in the process-- off the couch. It wasn't very far to fall, but he ended up hitting his forehead pretty hard on the floor and cursed quietly, scowling and rubbing his head as he sat up. Instantly the girl was on the floor next to him, a worried and apologetic expression on her face. "I'm so sorry Xander! Are you alright? Here, let me see," she said gently, and took one of his hands in hers.


The hand lashed out, pulling out of her grasp and striking her hard across the face. It sent her tumbling backwards, and an angry red mark dominated the left side of her face. She stayed back, raising a hand to her cheek and staring at Xander, who stared right back at her. His breathing, ragged and shallow, calmed to a regular rhythm and his features morphed from anger to panic. "Oh god, Kayla," he whispered sadly, quickly moving next to her and gathering her up into his arms. Kayla rested her head against his chest and hugged Xander back, leaning into his touch as he soothingly brushed her hair from her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry baby," he murmured, and he almost cried at her next words.


"It's ok."





Suddenly the room came rushing back to him, and Xander sat up in a violent motion, sending his head spinning. When his vision cleared his reflection was staring at him, honey eyes wide in horror or panic, short brown hair mussed up from the motion, and a guard standing at the door with a blank face. "Your partner has arrived. They're in another room. Follow me," the guard said, voice as blank and emotionless as his face. Xander hopped off the table and followed the guard to another room, allowing a second to fix his hair and wonder who pissed in the guy's Cheerios to make him so grumpy. The other door opened in front of him and Xander entered the room without pause, taking a seat at the table and looking at his new partner, though not saying anything.

 

[Masks of Ayn]

Jenna's life in the underground made it easy to hear about the on-going plans around most the world. Especially when intelligence officers who were supposed to know how to keep things hush, squawked like hens. When she got hold of those running the experiment, not long after she had a shoe in with a promise of Absolution if she participated. Scramblers and interference lines to jump her location across the World made her appear to be in Switzerland if ever traced. However the experiment seemed interesting enough, and for Absolution, she didn't care what she needed to do.


Be partnered up with someone for a while? Jenna thought, We'll just make it clear who's in charge. No weakness will be allowed, if they're weak they'll have no choice to become strong. Or die, depending on the situation.


That was a week prior. Jenna stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was black right now, which made her grayish blue hues pop. It worked better in the Middle East, under her Hijab, a Muslim headscarf, which she altered to resemble more of a Niqab, a full body cloak that also covered the nose and mouth only leaving an opening for the eyes. She blended in better this way with this altered Hijab-Niqab mess of hers. She'd wear it on her way out with her Abaya, an Arabic dress, which hung on the bathroom door behind her, backpack secured and packed beneath it.

Spoiler

http://data3.whicdn.com/images/75380210/original.jpg
She would change on the cargo-plane, one of the most uncomfortable rides in the world. And here I have twenty hours on one, she thinks to herself, coating her hair meticulously with the bleach color stripper to allow her red hair to gaze once more.


By the end of the day her contract with her current Hire was void, she paid her dues via taxes for all her uses to get to the cargo plane on the Doha International Airport, Qatar, which included a ride in a fancy Cadillac with no questions asked or need to go through Airport security. Inside the cargo plane, which besides her, was strictly cargo of who knew what, she opened her small suitcase and removed her Ayaba and Hijab. She didn't need them anymore, her red hair engulfing her head in flames compared to her paler skin, never touched by the Iraqi sun. A wife-beater white tank top concealed her torso, as well as form fitted, baggy tactical sand-patterned cargo pants. As the plane ascended the cooler it would be, as she unpacked her long sleeved fleece. It was going to be a long ride to Perth Australia, which was the shortest ride of 20 hours.


It was almost evening by the time she arrived. Her body ached, but she hardly noticed. Patience was a virtue which she had, it's what kept her underground for two years. What would keep her free for her entire life. Any plan someone may have, she was two steps ahead always. The Experiment Holders would be meeting her at the airline. Removing her fleece she tucked it back into the suitcase. That was the only reason she had it, and she would leave it behind. She pulled out the small bottle of bleach and sprayed the suitcase and it's entirety so that no fingerprints or any DNA samples would be efficient. Grabbing her large backpack which held more than 72hours worth of supplies, she shielded her eyes with her Oakley sunglasses.


She was met by men with suits on the flight line aircraft parkway. She followed them, her hiking boots thudding into the ground silently against the sound of the jets' engines and propellers of helicopters. They boarded a small jet. All windows were tinted black, even though the inside was luxury. She yawned, and stretched out, not saying anything to the men who escorted her. They kept their eyes on her behind their own sunglasses. She could feel the tension, they were trying to read her. It wouldn't work, she could play their thoughts of her easily if she wanted. She would sleep, reclined back all the way in the luxury seat, she couldn't sleep on the cargo plane, bumpy as all hell. First she leaned over though, taking a handful of the fancy mixed nuts that were out as well as drink water. She ate until she was full and once she downed the water dry.


She didn't know how long this ride would take, she didn't care.


"You'll need to leave your backpack with us," one of the males said.


"Negative, soldier boy," she said coolly, she didn't worry at all. Her heart rate slowing as she drifted to sleep. "It stays with me, and I'm not sure there isn't anything you can do about that."


Her backpack had gear in it she needed. A few magazines, her Smith and Wesson MP Shield 9mm pistol. A few MRE's to last a few days, maybe less depending on her partner she'd have, a tree-hammock tent for two, and some other clothing gear and bandages. Mainly the MRE's took up the entire bag, but it would be worth it. Not to forget her camel-pack, didn't have water yet, but it'd be necessary. Same with the water-purification packets she brought. She always thought ahead. She didn't know what she was being thrown into. And hell, if she needed to run, get out of wherever they took her due to being betrayed, she was ready.


"Momma didn't raise a fool, gentleman, I sure as hell ain't gunna start being one now." She knew they wouldn't take it, they would have tried already. And they hadn't even searched her or it, so they had no excuse to try and take it now.


Jenna didn't know how much time went by. Her dream stirred her awake, the blood of the psychologist she murdered splattering on her face. It was the one kill she couldn't let go. Looking up behind her shades, the men were hovering over her. Rude much, she thinks to herself, smirking. "Take a picture, why don't you. Or you could google it, I'm sure I'm on the internet."


She was running from the CIA after all, which led to Interpol interaction. Terrorist Wanted, #89, one of the top 100. Jenna Mariella Stanford, aka, Marbles the Bloody. That nickname was all thanks to her CIA counterparts. She had been called Marbles all throughout training, always getting hazed saying she was losing them. Not so funny now after she murdered the innocent psychologist to her old classmates two years ago.


As she rose, she grabbed her backpack and slung it around her shoulders, buckling it around her chest and hips. They bagged her, than, and she nearly lost her shit.


"We're departing," the men both sneered, grabbing her arms and tugging her out by the shoulders. They forced her down into a car, which with the backpack made it slightly uncomfortable, but she'd rather have it on and be uncomfortable than without it and never seeing it again. They didn't drive far it seemed, before she was pulled out from the back and brought into a building. The subtle beep of their ID badges range in her ears since she couldn't rely on her eyes. They walked a few more paces before another beep of a badge and a click unlocking a door. As she walked in, their hands removed from her body and the bag off her head.


Blinking as her eyes adjusted, she slowly removed her sunglasses being indoors.


"Well that fucking sucked," she groaned, rubbing her neck before rolling her shoulders forward and stretching.


She blinks and looks around the interrogation room. Gray, cold... empty. A table welded to the floor and two chairs. How fitting, she smirks, un-clipping her backpack before carefully dropping it down into the corner. Moving toward the table she uses it to stretch, pulling her body away as she held on with her hands. Looking at her watch she scratched her slender fingers through her hair. Damn, not even twenty four hours to get me here, staring around she notices the two doors. One to come in... one to go out, she presumes, moving to lean against another corner, watching the door she entered. She'd wait for the one she was to be partnered with before sitting down, boots crossing at the ankles, her hip cocking outward against the wall for leverage as her back molded into the cold wall of the room, head reclined. She almost looked relaxed.

 

[iShyShy]

(Sorry for the delay in posting. I've been a bit sleep deprived from school work with finals coming up. I hope you can forgive me.)


Today was the day that Amber was supposed to be 'escorted' to this psychology experiment that she agreed to participate in. She was excited and a bit anxious but there was no way she would let anyone else see it. The anticipation had been building until today and she was ready to prove not only her worth to herself but also that she could be as tough as she gave off. Walking around her room, she made her way over to her closet and grabbed her worn leather jacket and tossed it onto the bed. She changed into dark jeans, biker boots, and threw on her form fitting black camisole over her bra. The camisole covered a sharp belly piercing that she had, the outline was barely noticeable. She fixed her long dirty blonde hair with a shake of her head and a quick brush while looking in the mirror with her piercing blue eyes. Well I feel good, hope it's fitting enough. She grabbed her jacket and moved out of her room into the living area where her backpack was. She was called yesterday by the people conducting the experiment only to be told that she was allowed to bring whatever she could fit into one bag and on her body. She found that a bit abnormal but no reason to argue. So far she had things that were sure to help, a few portions of preserved food, two LifeStraws that filtered water to make it safe as it was used, her trusty and favorite flip knife and blade sharpener and there was no way she would forget rope, survival cord, and most importantly a few lighters. Staring at her bag proudly she picked up the last few things she thought she would need like her gloves and a few medical supplies. The bag was now stuffed and she had finished right on time.


Loud bangs were heard on her door with the ringing of her doorbell. "Yeah, I'm coming. One second." She relieved herself in the bathroom before grabbing her things and throwing open the door to two very large, official looking men with dark sunglasses. "Uhm..Good afternoon?" She said as she shifted her weight to one side, not letting these intimidating men think they had something on her because of their appearance. "Rosewood? We have a flight to catch." The men lead her outside into a black car with tinted windows. The scene she was in right now made her think that she was in for a bit more than she had presumed but she followed anyway. The car ride over was silent until one of the men seemed to have magically been given knowledge through his earpiece. "Your partner has arrived. You'll be meeting her shortly." Amber spent the rest of the trip in the car, and the change of transport into a small propeller plane, thinking about her partner whom she was grateful for having so she wouldn't be alone. She hadn't given it too much thought before but now was the best time. Another girl? That should make it easier to cooperate and handle things like planning and strategies. I wonder what they're like, if they know what to do in these situations, if they can handle all of the things we'll face together.....If she can tolerate me...God I hope we get along.


The plane finally landed and the one man just looked at her, "Follow me." She did just that after getting up, stretching out, and throwing her backpack over one shoulder, holding it with her one hand and slipping her other hand in her pocket. She realized she didn't clip her knife to her pocket like she normally did, and fixed it as she followed the monstrous man through locked door after locked door. Damn, how many of these are there? The man turned to her at the last door opening, "Good luck, kid." She gave him a quick nod and entered the small gray room. Her eyes were instantly drawn in by the bright red hair of the other person in the room who she assumed was her partner. She then saw the table with an assortment of various weapons on it, two chairs, and another bag. The door slammed behind her and a time was announced in the room. "Sixty minutes remaining." Amber was slightly startled by the door slam but played it off by placing her backpack down at the foot of the other chair. Leaning on top of the back of the chair with her arms out and standing with her weight to one side, she looked at her partner who was obviously comfortable standing in the small corner of the not so inviting room. "Hey, I'm Amber. Ready to dominate?" That was all that could come to mind to give off her tougher personality while still being respectful.


(Let me know if I need to add more.)

 

[budgieboo]

(sorry for not replying sooner, i was lurking with the ipad at school but now i'm here to type it all up!


I hope this is good enough! If you need more, just tell me.)


Simone was sitting down in a chair within the interrogation room, staring down with her light brown eyes at her sweaty, disgusting hands. The room was a bit bland, it was empty other than a table or the two chair, one where she was resting in, and the other for her partner. It was filled with only the bare minimum of it's use. Her nervousness, along with her warm sweater and her dark, loosely hanging scarf only made her hotter, making her body sweat. Still, she refused to remove them, having a feeling that they'd have at least something to watch her while she waited. It made her immensely uncomfortable, combined with anticipation towards what might happen and who might be her partner, and the dull, worried feeling that poked at her mind, regretting that she still came here. No matter what she did to silence the voice, it kept on asking, what if she made a really, terrible decision?


Simone knew that whatever she can think right now, her previous thoughts couldn't be changed. She wanted a new life, a different life completely from hers, and her own roommates. She wanted to be somewhere else from her apartment, her crappy job, and everything else. Simone didn't even have enough extra income to buy a small, plastic ring, attached to a Ring Pop. Being able to afford the transition would be really good too... But, what if she couldn't survive this experiment? That conclusion wouldn't be surprising, seeing how Simone was, a weak, stuttering coward. What about her partner? Would her partner be mad to see someone as useless like she was? Simone, for sure, would want a partner which was very capable and strong, but she also felt like that made her a hypocrite. She wanted to give as well as take the talents needed to survive, but her shaky temperament, her bony arms and legs, and her lack of courage made her unsure if she could do that. The only advantages Simone could think of was that she could stand straight, and that she was 5'11", having long enough limbs that could reach to the top of the cabinets without needing a chair to step on. Those weren't very good advantages, however, considering that her bad traits outweighed her good ones. Simone was certain that her partner would be angry at her, for being their partner.


She further leaned onto the table, her hands stuck within her dirty blond ruffs of hair, curling all around her fingers. Simone's face, which was usually a stark, white pale, was now flushed with a dark pink. She regretted this, so, so much. Simone wanted to go back home, the unchanging scenery of this bland room was starting her to make her a little stir-crazy, just along with the sudden sensation of despair cloaking around her. Unfortunately, while she was stuck here until her partner came, when she could finally get out, she would also have to participate in this social experiment.


No, no matter what doubts she had right now, it couldn't change anything. Perhaps, right towards the second where she was getting ready for the event, or perhaps getting inside the car that would drive her here, she could have actually done something about it. Simone purposely dressed so her body couldn't be seen, loosely hidden through heavy layers of cloth. Her heavy sweater, which was an awful choice for the seemingly hot room, at least gave some protection from lingering, judgmental eyes. Her jeans, the scarf to cover her unflattering face, and her boots, all were made and designed for colder weather. The car ride from earlier made her feel like a hostage, men who were transporting her refused to talk to her, to answer any questions she had. Even after she was now stuck, shoved within this room, she felt like a trapped victim. Perhaps she was one, seeing as she couldn't get out of it now.

 

[Turtlyturt]

"Mommy, where are we going?"


A child called in the distance wanting nothing more than the love of a mother, excited he was finally spending time with her. "I'm not going anywhere, Lance, darling. Do you remember your bed time prayers?" She looked up in the rear view watching as the young child laughed and nodded. "Can you repeat them for me?"





That was it, the last recalling memory she had of him, her son Lance. She was making her way through the doors, tapping her bare feet on the cold ground. "The floor is cold, ya know." They quickly closed the doors behind her and went on their way. She let off a soft sigh. She was dressed in large cut pants, black in color. They had a slit to the ankle and a drawstring at the waist, which sat on her bellybutton, the pants had both front and back pockets. The shirt was also black, though it fit like a silk tank top, with broad shoulder coverings, it was tucked into the pants. Around her neck was a silver necklace with a large white pendant with an M on the front, it hung below her breasts.


"My name is Maya Greene, I'm assuming you're the wonderful woman they paired with me. I think we have a few things to discuss, don't you agree?"


Maya held that sly smile, the kind car dealerships give you when they know you're too ignorant to know what a good car is. Her tongue brushed her lips as she stood there, in front of the woman. "You're awfully beautiful, so I'm assuming you're an innocent? How cute." She turned her gaze up to the ceiling. The place they were in reminded her of an investigation room. It was quite terrible, it was almost like she could taste and feel the anticipation and fear. May was good at being intimidating, but now wasn't the time. "We're going to win, and I hope you understand that. Nothing is getting in my damned way. And if you die and I have to carry you on my shoulders, you better believe I will." Her green eyes stared at the woman in front of her. "I don't lose."


She was tired, and anxious ready to go ahead and leave. She knew she couldn't, instead she pulled the chair out that was sitting in front her and took a seat. Placing her hands on the table. "Do you know what it's even like to kill someone? To watch them take their last breath? Or listen to them beg?" That same sly smile came back. "You can't ever be afraid, darling." She gave the woman a small wink.

[[

@budgieboo ]]​

 

[DarkiusHeavenstein]

First impressions said it all, didn’t they? His eyes had not left the person that had come in as one bundle of anxious and nerves. He could almost smell the fear that came from the other as the silence grew. He observed as the male seemed terrified of him, and probably the whole situation together. He sat back as the other moved closer and sat down at the opposite at the table. He watched the trembling hand that was held out to him, but pulled back before he had the chance to shake it. He even stuttered over his words already, and then to think of the fact that this Virgil-person didn’t have the slightest idea, yet, of whom he was or what he did. He doubted revealing that would do them any good as the other seemed like the kind of person that would faint in too stressful situations. “Viriu Tapio” He said shortly as his cold voice cut through the tense silence. Yes, for now he decided it would be better to go with that name as he met the eyes that were shielded with glasses. However the anxiousness and panic within them was unmistaken.


“So I have to put up with you...” He broke the second silence, before it could freeze in the air again. He shove his chair back as he got up and started to pace over towards the mirror, wondering if they also observed them from there, other than only with the cameras. Probably they did and he knew it was something he would never find out as for him the glass would stay a mirror no matter what. He observed the guy through the mirror this time, trying to estimate what good he would be or survival skill he would have, but the answer seemed to be close to nothing. Seriously, what did this person expect of a survival on an island? That they would have a microwave and fridge? “You aren’t the outdoor type of guy” It wasn’t a question, far from it as it was a statement of facts. He turned back around, leaning lazily and disinterested with his back against the mirror. His hand moved into the black pants he was wearing, revealing a package of cigarettes not much later. He had never considered himself a real smoker, since it was quite bad for his trait of work, but it had gotten more frequent over the past few days. He placed one of the cigarettes between his lips and lit it, before putting the supplies away again. Why bother to ask? It was not like anyone was gonna stop me. Sure not the lousy excuse of a survival partner. If he had a problem with smoking, than that would stay his problem.


He inhaled the smoke deeply, before letting it escape again and watching it curl up into the air. He seemed to be unaffected by the tension that, once again, hung between them as well as the foresight of the dangerous survival ahead. From the moment he had been born, his life had always been about surviving to live another day. He had never grown up in the comfort of a loving home, heck he had lived most of his life out on the streets, even long before he decided to run for it. Mister Coxx however seemed like the typical spoiled only child person, getting what he asked and never having to worry about how the next day would be if he even survived the night. Not that he was envious, not at all, Viriu liked the way his life had unfolded, minus the last two years in prison of course. “So, skills, knowledge, weaponry, do you have anything to offer?” He asked, though deep down he already knew the answer was gonna be very unsatisfying. He let out a sigh, before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. He didn’t even know why he smoked as it didn’t calm him down, not that he ever was stressed and if nobody would notice. The taste was also not that fantastic, hence the fact he didn’t consider himself to be a frequent smoker. It was probably just to give himself something to do, to make a statement and to provoke others if possible.

 

[Gitmuny]

Virgil took note that the man seemed to like smoking. He paused for a minute, with his lips open. Skills? Knowledge ? Weaponry? Did he have anything to offer? Of course, saying he was smart was an understatement, but he felt that even if had told the man all about the extensive amount of knowledge he had acquired over the past years, he would still look as dissatisfied as he did now. "I am quite the knowledgeable person.." he said rather contently. Viriu Tapio... he was almost certain that he had heard that name somewhere before, possibly in an internet article or something. He was afraid to ask, but Virgil pressed on regardless "I feel as if I've seen you somewhere before... any idea as to why that is?" A name like Viriu Tapio wasn't exactly common, at least where Virgil was from. There was no possibility of him mistaking the man with someone else.


He continued to examine the.. cell that they were currently being stowed away in. He wasn't sure what to expect next. Perhaps maybe a briefing, or an interview with one of the team's leads. He waited, and waited. none of this happened. The door on the opposite side of the room was confusing him as well. Why would there be another door in addition to the one they had entered through ? It was an interrogation room after all. For someone as smart as Virgil was, you'd think he wouldn't be as oblivious to the scheme as he actually was. He ran over any possible scenarios in his head, and left out the bizarre scenario of "door opens. reveals other couples similar to them. weapon and other survival equipment are arranged on a table in front of them. the facility is the only building on this so called island. they are left to fend for themselves."


The door he had came through unlocked, two armed guards filled the room, weapons unholstered. A third man entered, again, it was the elderly man that had known Virgil's name from earlier. He handed them some high-tech looking watches and ordered them to put them on. He shrugged, it was probably just some sort of low-profile tracking device. He slipped it on, and adjusted it to the size of his wrist, feeling a prick at the same time. Part of the watch felt like it had pierced his skin, almost like a needle. He was uncertain what this was, but decided that it was just his nerves getting the best of him, that there was actually no prick in his wrist. "Good luck you two," the man said, pointing at them with fingers shaped like a handgun. Virgil's sweat gradually became worse, he knew something was up.


The team of three left the small room, the door clicking behind them. something was about to happen. The larger doorway, now behind Virgil was humming with life with an electrical current. It was some sort of reinforced mechanical door, capable of keeping anyone in, or out. The gears inside the contraption shifted, and clicked and ground until the hum faded and the anticipation building up inside Virgil was at an all time high. The experiment had yet to begin, and Virgil was already collecting rather useful information about himself, he wasn't paying attention to how his partner was reacting, a rookie mistake. Virgil looked back and faced Viriu, "any idea what's going on?"

 

[kira blackthorn]

Crimson perked up when the door open and looked at the person that came in curiously. He was covered in tattoos and a little intimidating. They would get along perfectly! Humming he stood and danced on light feet around the table and stopped in front of him. Beaming he held out his hand. " The names Crimson. What's yours? Those tattoos are cool. I kind of want to get one but I'm still undecided. I'm thinking of a star though. What do you think?"

 

[yistae]

Xander watched in dumb silence as Crimson or whatever did a dance thing. This was his partner? What the hell! Xander's first thought of the guy: Crack. The next runner up thought? Meth. There was no way he wasn't on something, but if he wasn't he was definitely off his nut. 'Schizo-affective' came to mind, and Xander wondered if the experiment wasn't "Throw a con in with a nut job and see who's still standing at the end of the month." Kinda long, but it's a working title.


He focused back to reality and stared blankly at the offered hand. He didn't shake hands. Not at all. Standing up he moved to where he was more relaxed, leaning against the table a few feet away from Crimson. "My name's Xander," he said simply. What he really wanted to say was to get the hell out of his space, but pissing off his mentally unstable partner two minutes in seemed like a bad idea. His solution: Ignore him unless need be. Xander looked around the room, nearly identical to the one he'd been in before, but there was something in the corner that caught his eye.


Pushing away from the table Xander went to investigate, picking up the brightly coloured plastic thing and turning it over in his hands. There were a bunch of them all over, and a shiny silver ball sat amongst the pieces. It was familiar... Then it clicked, causing Xander to smirk and drop down to sit cross legged on the floor. Silently working, he fit all the pieces of plastic around the ball, forcing the last few into place with loud clicks. When all the pieces were back together Xander held it up, grinning triumphantly at the six different coloured sides. He'd broken a few Rubix Cubes before, but since he could never afford to replace them, Xander had figured out pretty quick how to fix them. Plus, if you smashed the thing apart, it was a hell of a lot easier to solve.

 

[Masks of Ayn]

Jenna closed her eyes, listening to the quiet room with nothing in it. Silence always had sound after all, white noise. The little annoying hum that distracted many people, making them itch. She got used to this sound, though at times, in rooms like this, memories weren't always pleasant. She arches her shoulders out and against the wall, before they slump and relax once more. She didn't know how long she stood there, probably a good few hours, napping in the processes on and off. She was a light sleeper, in this case, literally on her feet.


Click, the door she entered from had faintly sounded as a door handle twisted. Opening an eye she waits to see the door slide open before closing it once more. Steady, let's just listen before we assume, she told herself. Her first thought of this experiment was that she would be given some inexperienced brat around sixteen years old. The boots sounded timidly, though full, the steps are being forced to sound sturdy, she notes to herself. Her first assumption was female, but she's met timid men in her life, and if it was a child it could easily be males. Opening her eyes she cants her head over to the other after hearing the door shut and pauses, her gray-blue hues taking in the young female. She looked young, to her at least. Gazing up and down over the other she took in the leather jacket, the biker boots, the back pack of what she hoped would be supplies. They were going to be needing to survive together somewhere after all for a month, you'd think most people would prepare.


She uses her own combat booted foot to kick off the wall, her cocked hip straightening as she pivoted with a decent smile to the other. She extends her hand, This girl hasn't fought anyone in her entire life, was Jenna's automatic assumption. She laughs lightly at the female's words, "I'm Jenna, nice to meet you, Amber." I need to play onto the girl's good side, don't need her afraid of me. "I am sure we will do just that" she agrees casually, "Have you ever needed to live off the land before?" she inquires also, before moving to the empty table to sit. A loud humming came from the other door, she assumed a warning that it may open soon. "Sounds we won't have much time to get to know each other, might as well start while we can, no?" she keeps her smile, chuckling lightly. She wanted to portray herself as very sufficient, calm, she didn't want to seem pushy, which wasn't hard. Stay relaxed, and she should come, she thinks to herself, using her past knowledge from criminal investigations.

 

[iShyShy]

Kiara watched her partner wake up from the corner of the room she was residing in, her gray-blue eyes being a wonderful contrast to her bright red hair. The colors worked well together. The moment of silence passed slowly as Amber could feel the girl looking her over, judging her, and she could only hope that her partner would come to the same assumption of her personality that others have always come to. The girl looked much more prepared that Amber was for the journey that they were about to set out upon, she was obviously more experienced in these matters and Amber started hoping that she wouldn't weigh her down though she was still confident in her abilities.


With a sudden push, the girl walked over to her and Amber smiled while maintaining the eye contact between their blue eyes. Reaching out her hand to meet the girl's halfway, "It's a pleasure, Jenna." She was surprised that the tough and serious girl was so kind but was also a bit relieved. Was it a simple act? Of course people know their manners so it was a possibility but Amber didn't think too far into it. They're both going to end up coming clean eventually and first impressions are important. Letting go of Jenna's hand, "Never entirely, I've gone on a few survival trips so I'm experienced in survival situations to an extent. My longest expedition was two weeks." She sat down across from Jenna, slightly laughing with her, "Of course, we need to take advantage of as much as possible." The girl seemed very confident in herself, she obviously seemed like she knew more than Amber, was nice, and Amber really thought they would get along. Half the battle of survival is psychological and they could combat that by working together. "What about you? You seem to be a bit more experienced." She inquired with a small gesture to Jenna's bag.

 

[budgieboo]

She sighed, setting her arms off her head, and down onto the table. Simone gazed up from her arms as she heard a noise, the sound of the doors opening, and footsteps. As she raised her head, she watched as the woman walked into the room, and towards the table she was sitting in. She was puzzled at first, but then realized that the woman was probably her partner, and the doors were probably now locked. Simone's chance of rushing out the door and running away, the swarming guards be damned, was now gone. Simone needed to meet whom she'll stay with for a month on the island.


What kind of island would it be, anyways? She never really had any knowledge of it, but was hoping it wasn't somewhere dangerous. Well, anywhere is dangerous for her, but Simone really wouldn't want to deal with poisonous snakes, nor large bears. Little did she knew, that wouldn't be the only thing to be afraid of.


Simone felt odd, sitting here, straight up. At first she was sort of flattered that her partner, Maya Greene as she has figured out, would compliment her and recognizing her as a woman. She thought she was wonderful? Cute? An "innocent?" It was a strange feeling, to say the least, but Simone didn't want to show it, merely biting her lip with all the force of her teeth. It was all very unexpected from her, a Simone didn't really expect anyone to have such an opinion, but it appears, so was everything else.


Simone's mouth was shut while she watched, her eyes widening only slightly. What was she talking about? Simone blinked, and gazed down at her shaking, sweaty hands, wishing that the woman wouldn't stare like that. Simone had an odd, baseless feeling that this was all a threat, the way she said, I don't lose, sent shivers down her spine, as if she wasn't going to let Simone bring her down. Simone felt like she would get in the way, and was still quite afraid to what might happen. She didn't want to fail her partner, but felt like she was unable to. I understand, Maya Greene.


Do you know what it's even like to kill someone? She didn't, of course, she hasn't killed a person before. Why would she? She'd be in prison by now! Simone didn't completely understand why the woman would ask such a thing anyways? Did the woman expect for them to kill anything? The way that Maya Greene smiled when she told Simone that she can't ever be afraid, "darling," made Simone wanted to run. Still, Simone stayed sitting stiffly, listening to her words, moving her arms from the table, closer to her body. Simone didn't want to say anything, in fear of embarrassing herself. Simone shook her head in a no, thankful that her scarf covered most of her expression. "I haven't... I haven't k-killed anyone at all," Simone said, quietly and muffled under her thick, thick scarf so most of her voice couldn't be heard. Her voice was stiff and scratchy, something Simone felt was unpleasant to hear.

 

[budgieboo]

@Turtlyturt ))

 

[Turtlyturt]

I'll be replying tomorrow, I know you may be impatient. ;=; @budgieboo ]]

 

[Turtlyturt]

Maya sighed and rustled her head in her hands. A groan came next. "Well tell me what you have done!" She hated sitting down, especially knowing that she had to wait to go out. Her legs shot out from under the chair and she stood up, the chair crashing behind her. "I hate sitting down." Her gaze moved across the room. She was acting like some kind of drug addict, though it was just from anxiety. She never dealt with people sober, so her people skills were a bit on the bad side. She was constantly rubbing on her face, ready to remove herself from this room. She didn't exactly plan on continuing to talk to the woman after they left the room. Quietness between the two would help with being able to listen to everything around them, along with them both being able to focus on more than one thing. "Look, I care about your life as much as I care about global warming. Let's just not say anything. And we'll be fine. Okay. Let's have the rest of our time together being nothing but quiet, and only speaking when we need to."

 

[DarkiusHeavenstein]

I am quite a knowledgeable person. Right, and that is gonna help us survive. He simply nodded to that statement as he blew out some smoke. There was no need to lash out right now, and besides maybe knowledge wasn’t sure a bad thing. It all depended on what subjects the person at the other side found interesting. If it was flora and fauna they may gonna need that knowledge on this island. “What kind of knowledge? I just hope it is useful for survival”He spoke before drawing in the nicotine from the cigarette. His voice was sarcastic in the last few words. No, this man across of him had never left his house and its technology behind.


His cold stare singled out his partner as the male spoke once again. He doubted they would ever cross the same paths in life, even by accident. “I highly doubt that, but of course it is possible. Then again Tapio is a common Finnish name” He said, not giving away any more information than possible. Let this knowledgeable person feast on that. His eyes let go of the male instantly as the door opened and two armed guards stepped in. His eyes were calculating, searching weak spots. There were only a few and he wouldn’t stand a chance against fire arms. Pathetic and weak. He liked the direct contact of a battle, feeling and watching the life let the a person go. He shot away the cigarette butt, but both guards did not seem to react on it as it flew past them and landed on the ground just outside entrance they had come through. His eyes took in Virgil for a moment, he could of course use him as a meet shield. Yet than he had to carry him around and who knew how many more guards were out there.


His ice blue eyes moved to the elderly man as he handed them their watches. He looked at it for a moment, inspecting it, before doing the same as his partner had done and adjusted it to his wrists. The small prick he felt made him smirk as his gaze found the elderly man again. “So lethal injection it will be for me one way or the other?” He spoke with for the first time a hint of amusement in his voice. His expression became unfazed again as the male wished them luck and shot them down with an imaginary gun. Viriu only moved his thumb along his throat to offer the silent threat back, yet in his own style, which was much more personal, namely blades.


The sound of humming from electricity made him spin around. He knew the sound from the automatic doors they had in the cell blocks. He got up from the chair walking over towards the large doorway that was silent now. He only turned his head enough to look at the other through the one way mirror on the other wall. “I am not the person of intellect” He spoke with an hint of sarcasm to his voice again. His fingers followed the edge of the door trying to search for any bit of weakness, but didn’t find anything. It was the exact same kind of doorway as they used at the high security prison guard he was kept. “but I think this experiment has more to it than they wanted us to know” He turned back towards his partner again.


His feet had taken him to the table again where he sat down. He moved his chair a bit back, adjusting it so he could rest his army boots on the table edge. “A few rules that might come in handy for whatever we have to face. Remember them as I will not allow a mistake and both the words pity and mercy are nowhere to be found in my dictionary” He spoke though the words where not a threat or a warning. They were more of a promise. “If there is a choice go for water and food. After that comes fire or things related and then utilities like ropes, cloth, bandages. Weapons come last” As I am sure as hell you have no idea how to use them anyway. Utilities like a cloth or a tent or a sleeping bag could make a great difference, depending on what kind of island they were dropped. Viriu rather prepared for every kind of weather, though his preference stayed with the cold, which he knew from home. “We are equals, so speak you mind and be honest, but don’t pry, don’t question and don’t talk about your or my past” Which you probably are gonna do, since you just seem like the annoying kind of person who would do that. He hated talking about his past, just as much as he hated listening to the stories about the other. It wasn’t important for the moment as it was all in the past, so why talk about it. “Last don’t piss me off and don’t annoy me, cause I sure as hell don’t care about you” And nothing is gonna change that . He only cared about two people, which were his right hand. They had met during their first month at the gang and were pretty much on one line. It was the only person he allowed very close into his life and also the only person who knew how to read him. The second person was his girlfriend, if he could even call her that. She was the love of his life and the light in his darkness. She was the reason he wanted to get out of jail and start a new life, completely unknown and no longer haunted by his dark past. “Understood? Good then we are ready for these doors to open” He ended his little one sided conversation. Still he didn’t move from the relaxed position he was in, though his body was tense and alert, ready to act on any change in the doors position.

 

[kira blackthorn]

Crimson noticed the look on Xanders face as he moved away and let his hand drop feeling a little uncertain. He has seen that look before on other people faces when they first meet him. Right before they begin to ignore him calling him insane. Looking down at the floor he muttered. "Nice to meet ya Xander."


His attention was drawn back up at the sounds of clicking like something was being put together. Looking up he found Xander kneeling near the remains of his runic cube. Or at least where the remains used to be. Curious he walked closer and gasped when he found Xander holding his now solved rubic cube. How did he do that? Hurrying closer he kneeled by him and poked the cube experimentally gazing at it wide eyed. "How did you do that Xander?"