♛ ▌1 0 0 D A Y S ❣

Thomas went along quietly and didn't say a word. He was feeling homesick on top of feeling queasy from the fact that another classmate may be dead. He solemnly shook his head 'no' in reply to Harley and shuffled off to a empty bedroom to think and sleep.

+++

What. The. ****. John narrowed his eyes at a bloody Quin in the driver's side of a one of their truck. She pulled the impossible, and that raised so many alarms in John that he couldn't even notice the small bit of happiness he felt when Temperance stood in his proximity for a good amount of their voyage. Instead he wistfully checked his phone, which was still useless, and finally he went to bed while longing for a shower but too tired to care.

 

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"That's...unfortunate," he said as he pushed her down. It felt nice to lie down. It created room for her to rest her too painful legs. It was still unbearable, but she managed to stop crying briefly. "You--your not such a bad little girl... I'm beginning to see just why my good friend Marshall decided to risk his life to save you all." Who was Marshall, another cop? Her eyes were shut as she listened to Milo continue to speak. She liked this man. His voice was comforting.

​

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"Unfortunately I am not him...and I will have to do as you wish and take you to that woman." That was understandable. This chaos needed to end. Going to see that woman was the only that would stop it. "Your friends have quite the challenge up ahead...I do hope if their fate is to be caught, then It would be me to capture them....what you endured from Derrick....was nothing." Milo said. If that psychopath soldier was the least of her worries, she was terrified to think what someone else might do. Her legs throbbing, agreeing. "You're a strong girl," he said calmly.

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Marina wanted to say something. She really did, but as the van pulled forward, the pain engulfed her. She could not keep fighting it any further and passed out from how bad her legs hurt. The ride was bumpy and uncomfortable, but she did not wake. The last thing Marina could remember before fulling losing consciousness, was warm lips pressed against hers.

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[OOC: --- ≈ Wearing ≈ Client: Milo ≈ Location: Car ≈ Day: 52 3/3 ≈ Sunday January 20th, 2013]​

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【WEARING • LATEST TUMBLR UPDATE • OOC】​

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A shiver ran down her spine and nausea stirred up within her. Blood oozed from the cut and trickled down over his concealed fingers. The girl beneath him convulsed and gasped for a bit before eventually stilling, from what she could tell. It reminded her of something...Her neck started stinging and she felt a bit claustrophobic again, but it passed. Nothing was worth taking this suit off right now. ​

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The sun had set. Another day, wasted. Anger started up again, but it faded out into nothing. Her eyes lingered on the scene before her for a moment, but she shook her head and locked her gaze on Elliot, instead. Sure, she had encouraged him a bit, but it took a lot of guts to kill another person. Few people could really do it, if faced with the opportunity. She hadn't been sure he would be one of the ones who could. Her heartbeat quickened as she began to reevaluate him. He was just so puny and meek looking, despite still managing to look attractive, hovering over his prey; a dark-haired, clear-eyed killer--. ​

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Oh no. She turned away quickly and climbed up onto one of the classroom desks, avoiding looking at him again.

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"Thanks for that, I guess." She laid on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. He could have not stepped in. "First thing in the morning, we should summon Crestatia and...try to work this out."​

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She didn't know how else to put it. Her eyes were burning and the gas mask was tight around her face. She wanted to take it off. She wanted this to be over with. Curling tighter into a ball, she closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep, wondering if Quin and Thomas were alright.​

 

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[ Contact Information ► Mood: ... ► Location: BAE ► OOC: N/A ]​

He let go. Was she really dead, had he really killed her? It appeared so... Still, he waited around as if she would get back up again, ready to take revenge.

When that did not happen his eyes drifted to the one still living and he nodded. "R-right." Would she be the vessel then? That was actually relieving, since now he would not be judged when dealing with the demon. Not by anyone but the demon herself, anyway.

His eyes fell on Heidi. The blood... Suddenly, he was so dizzy. It was so hard to stand. But he should...move the body. Corpses always posed a danger to the living, not to mention that smell. Ugh, he would vomit before he even made it to the door though... At least the suit and mask would be enough to save them. So despite wishing for her to be gone he would have to deal with her presence...at least until they left tomorrow.

Until then Elliot simply needed to avoid looking at it so he turned away, finding the floor better suited to lay on than a desk. He did, however, lay on the opposite side of a table to ensure distance between himself and Heidi. Then, with much thanks to exhaustion, he was able to fall asleep.

 

Spoiler: X

 

My Glorious Empty Tumblrxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I am scared...

The three exited quickly with bags full just as the house collapsed behind her. It was amazing timing, and felt like those movies where everything is conveniently timed. She turned her head to see the butler and the maid and she spoke out,

"You both of course do not have to stay with me, you have the choice to leave now if you wish with the food and supplies you brought. Or if you wish, you can stay with me. I have a car, which I need to check to see if it is still intact, and if it is, I will be driving it as far out of here as I can because everyone is under evacuation anyways."

The maid chose to leave at that moment, running very fast away, while the butler said how he had no reason to leave yet. Jessie walked over to where the cars would have been parked, and her car, although broken down with shattered windows and everything, was still able to start. She turned it off and looked over at the butler and spoke,

"I plan on leaving first thing in the morning."
"So you are sleeping in the car?"
"That's what I plan on."
"Is there perhaps... somewhere safer?"
"No such thing right now..."

Jessie leaned the car seat back and curled up, closing her eyes as she shivered in the cold air, still with the mask on her face.
​

 

Harley sat next to the window, the dull moonlight shining on his face. It was an hour or so into his watch, and he felt more exhausted than he had since this game started. Things were never going to look up for them, were they?

After a few minutes of thoughtfulness on the situation, there was a sort of . . . pang in his chest. It was extremely dull, and for a moment, he thought he might start coughing up blood again, but the warm, burning liquid never felt on his throat. Instead, he found that his throat was tightening, like he wanted to cry.

Why did he want to cry? It felt like he had lost something precious to him; something from a long time ago.

As a tear streaked down his face, Harley found he couldn't remember what it was.

 

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His body would not move as well as he wished it to and so when it came for his help he did nothing but remain silent. The world was a tragic place that held destruction and chaos. Laurence knew that the gods were the answer and that their divine purpose was what would keep them alive and well. The gift his god gave him was running out and though it was a tragedy, he would actually be able to do more...maybe they should sing songs? that was such an excellent idea, but for now he needed rest. Closing his eyes, Laurence drifted off into slumber.

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Casey merely sat down calmly and began to ponder just their next course of action. Something felt wrong about this place and there was something that he was forgetting. Through all the stress and anguish he went through there was something that was important that he needed to recall. To awaken that memory he would have to think back to that dreadful moment and recall what happened. He received a migraine just thinking about it but then moment Vanille called out to him his thoughts. From just hearing her words, Casey replied to the girl with a small weary smile and nodded silently. Though they didn't exist it did not matter to him, the feeling he felt and the memories he gained...they all felt real to him. If he were to fade then so be it, but what he truly wished for was that the struggles and pain that people endured be never forgotten, that the move with the victor. If the victor gained existence then surely those memories became something real as well. Closing his eye, Casey drifted of into slumber.

 

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DAY 53​

January 21th, Sunday​

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[OOC: ---↯ Wearing!! ↯ Location: Safe house ↯ Mood: Exhausted ↯ Day: 53 1/3]​

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[3:47]

Temperance bolted upright clutching her throat. The night terrors were back and in full force. She shivered as sweat dripped down her face and ripped the covers from her body. The bed was drenched. Her nose wrinkled up in disgust as tears began to leak out, dripping off her chin. Why did they have to come back? It had been so peaceful to sleep without waking up screaming in the middle of the night. Her heart thrummed rapidly in her chest as the sound of blood pulsed in her ears. Her hands were trembling as she tried to brush the hair out of her face. A coughing fit ensued and she buried her face in her hands. This was too much.

[5:38]

She was still awake. Going back to sleep seemed pointless now. It had been nearly two hours and she just couldn't feel the sweet embrace of exhaustion filling her a second time. Plus, if she closed her eyes, all she saw was blood. The image of water turning from red to pink and then finally clear washed through her over and over again. She knew how Casey felt when he said his hands were stained red. It wouldn't go away no matter how many times she scrubbed.

[6:52]
Temperance stepped out of the steaming shower. Her skin was pink and fleshy, her eyes bloodshot. More crying had occured in the shower, and for a long time she had just sat in the base of the tub as the water cascaded down around her. It was too much. She was so tired of this game. I meant it. I'm done playing. What was there to do in a game if you swore to no longer play? Break the gameboard. . . Those words seemed hauntingly familiar. A shudder passed through her body as she scrounged for some clean clothes to wear. This house seemed eerily well stocked. She wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing. Finally being clean for the first time in about a week and wearing fresh clothes was invigorating. How was she supposed to break the gameboard? If you can't break the gameboard, you can always break the rules... The thought had crossed her mind for quite some time.
[7:39]
She found a piece of paper and a pen. Inscribed on it were all those damn ugly rules she had learned so long ago, including the minor ones. Which ones hadn't they broken yet? Well, they had broken almost all of them--all except for three it seemed. Do not tell anyone about me. // Do not attempt to take your life before day 101. // Do not make a deal with anyone but myself. Who else would they make a deal with, Analynne? She was gone now, wasn't she? Who would they tell? The government? Like that would do anything for them... She sighed. There was only one rule she really cared for breaking and there was one person that was keeping her from doing so.
[8:46]
She finally pulled herself out of the room and made her way downstairs. Temperance moved slowly. She was a little more level headed than before, but not by much.

 

Thomas paced, and paced and paced some more. Cherno was gone, and Maddy and the doctor and that small brunette were gone too. He shook his head in fustration, he still felt set on searching the wreckage or something, anything to put his mind at ease. He bit his lip and set his jaw, he needed a map. A home like this usually had one on the walls or in a shelf, right? He could then pin point where Casey's house might have been, and get a general direction to Antilum. He thought some more on that, he could be horridly wrong though, after all, they hoped in a truck and simply followed Casey's directions. Then from the house, they left again and simply followed Harley and Vanille to this location. Vanille! She knew how to get here, even thought they were in the Heckle house. She would know how to get from here to there without a stupid map. Or at least point him in a proper cardinal direction.

Okay. First step, talk to Vanille. Second? Figure out how long it'd take to hoof it back to Antilum. As he pondered these things, a little side thought slipped into his mind. Why was he doing this. Risking going back into the city. Risking getting his face recognized and having himself subjected to possible torture. And all to see if a girl who may or may not even be alive, was alive! But that thought was squashed by another. A stronger and more tangible thought. What is she needed him? He adored Madeline, and her dying was something he needed to see to believe. Besides, his racing mind wandered, if she was alive, how in the hell would they ever meet up again? She may think they were all dead, when, like in the movies, they had actually just past each other in the ruined streets! He hated movies like that!

He sat back down on the bed he crashed on, still letting his thoughts flow and swirl, it was enough to distract him from not having a camera...but if he passed by a camera shop on his journey...it's not like anyone would be using a camera in town at this point in time. He still sighed and stood up, thinking of how he could cut his hair to make himself more unrecognizable, maybe find a hoody too. He nodded as he stood up, liking the appearance change more and more. He didn't want to go alone, the looming challenges of going out into the world was enough to fill him with dread, but he silenced his fear temporarily by thinking, What if she needs me? Thomas washed his face clean and hurried out of the room, hunting for the masked girl named Vanille. He just hoped she was awake while his nerves were still held in check.

 

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( OOC :: KEKEKE. )​

( DAY :: 53 - 1/3 ) • ( JANUARY 21, 2013 ) • ( LOCATION :: LIVING ROOM )​

( YOU • ME • NAMES • LINKS • HATE ) • ( MOOD :: UNHAPPY )​

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Her sleep had been a restless one, but Vanille was happy that she had gotten at least two or three hours of decent sleep. Being in this house again, after everything that happened with the baglady . . . After everything that was happening . . .

Where was momma? Vanille didn't know if she wanted to think about it or not, so instead, she spent the morning preparing an average breakfast for the others. A quick headcount told her many things; how long their supplies would last, who was most likely to die in their group first, and the muscle.

After showing everyone to the dining room, she left to her room, which was right down the hall from . . . Oh, it was still the same. How nice. That was great. Really. It was.

Twenty minutes later, Vanille slipped her iron mask back on to hide the tear-stained face and went to the basement where most of their communication operations took place. Weird, some of the things were still working . . . They had used satellite, after all - she wondered if all of the lines were dead? The dull screen reflected blue off of her mask, and she punched in numbers to one of the radio lines.

This was dangerous, she knew, but . . . Private lines, there was no way these could be hacked. She decided to try the school; maybe there were people there? These connected to the speakers, and was for absolute emergency only; they had never been used before. She took a breath, and then spoke into the radio, ❝100 DAYS, this is Masked Frostie speaking, come in 100 DAYS. If you can hear, find the eagle's nest. There should be a cup-and-string in there. I repeat, a cup-and-string is in the eagle's nest. Over.❞

She set the device down and turned on one of the three backup generators. Each of them would last for four days, if used wisely. In her head, she repeated the number of hours they could be left on and the number of hours for breaks in between. The house speakers were flipped on so that, no matter where Vanille would be in the house, she would be able to hear all radio transmissions. If there really was anyone at the school, everyone would hear it.

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- - -​

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A woman with silver-white hair stood on the see-through side of a one-sided mirror, staring hard at the young, red-head woman strapped to the wooden chair. "After all of that, she still refuses to speak." she said with the tone of being impressed. "Well, she is a Lein, and the family is a very stubborn bunch."

She sharply turned on her heel to stare at Captain Mont and Vice-Captain Warren, "Has there been any sign of the airship?" she asked. It was bitter to be in this situation. "These are my students, I will see them handled with care, Captain. I have done everything you have asked of me. If I hear of another one of them being tortured by Derrick, my wrath will be the least of your worries."

The Captain, Blanc Mont, seemed to secretly smirk, as if he were shrugging of the 'idle' threat.

"The the squadrons to continue their search in the mountains within a ten-mile radius of the Heckle's Estate. The Sario girl had to have been a distraction." he commanded, and then returned his attention to the older woman, " . . . Mrs. Lein, I do hope you understand. These children are in the way of humanity's survival. If we do not retrieve them, then we are all as good as dead."

Lorinda did not say anything.

 

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« Updates → Interactions: N/A → Location: Safe House → Day: 25 (53 & 1/3) → Wearing!! »​

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Bernie had a lot of time to think last night while keeping watch. There wasn't to do other than think while keeping watch. It was part of what made her grow so tired when she had her blue eyes locked on the world outside these walls. She peeled her cheek off of the cool window pane where she had fallen asleep the night before. She couldn't have had more than a couple hours worth of sleep, but it was enough for now. The living room seemed fairly quiet. Bernadette wondered how many of them were catching up on the hours of rest they needed after how crazy things had been lately. She wished she could have been one of those people, but knowing what was to come was far more important. Being here didn't feel safe. She was thankful that they had somewhere to go for the night, but it gave her a sketchy vibe. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach and she got up, hurrying off to the nearest bathroom.

Getting clean was something she reveled in. She hadn't had a proper shower in nearly a week and a half, and imaged that the rest of them were the same way. It wasn't since before that first set of bombings went off. The house, though it creeped her out, was well stocked and washing away the many layers of filth and grime was complimented with a fresh set of clothes. She left the bathroom after pulling her damp blond hair into a braid to search for the others. Leaving as soon as possible would be ideal. They couldn't be rash in the decision, but they also couldn't get too comfortable. She had seen too many movies and cop shows that flat out stated that comfortability meant getting caught.​

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She had only been half joking about the whole: "going to Germany," thing. The entire state was pretty bad from what she had learned. If they remained here any longer, they would all get sick and die. Too many of them were already declining in health. Getting out of the state would be easy enough, but they would still be constantly glancing over their shoulders. They might not be recognized, but they also wouldn't have any money or a place to stay. Heading north and leaving the country seemed drastic, but like the best possible outcome. Unless they could get a boat and start Magellaning it up and sailing around the southern tip of the country and across the Atlantic, but on second thought, Crestatia would probably just create some sort of hurricane or ocean storm and fling them all into the water to die. That was disheartening. She sighed softly before making her rounds through the house. Whenever Bernie would pass someone, she would ask them to meet in the living room. They needed to talk this over.​

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Heading north really did seem like the best option in her opinion. They could get out of the radiation infested danger zone and make camp somewhere deep in the woods. Living off the land wouldn't be so bad, especially if they were near a running body of water. The only problem would be crossing the border. She could almost without a doubt guess that no one had a passport on them. Hell, she would be surprised if anyone even had a driver's license on them after everything that had occurred. They also needed to take a head count. How many others were missing that they knew might actually be alive? Getting everyone together and staying together would be the first goal that they should accomplish. Then, they needed to leave, before they are found.​

 

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{ TUMBLR • ACQUAINTANCES • MOST RECENT • WEARING }​

{ OOC : AHG, MY BACK. }​

{ DAY : 53 - 1/3 } • { JANUARY 21, 2013 } • { LOCATION : LIVING ROOM }​

{ YOU • ME • NAMES • LINKS • DISDAIN } • { MOOD : TIRED }​

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xxxxxxxxx❝How long have we the sanctuary?​

xxxxxxxxxxxx We are a broken people, living under loaded gun.​

xxxxxxxxxx There is no time to stay around, we must move.❞​

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Staring the day had been extremely difficult and painful, but she had to admit, the warm shower had been nice. The first thing on her mind when she was wide away was how Madeline was - if she was still even alive, that was. All of her wounds and cuts stung with the hottest fires of hell, and she yelped and cried all the way through it. Her nerves were constantly being ground on.

It had been embarrassing, showering with Harley pinning her down and Vanille naked along with her. Those two were ridiculous, but . . . She was grateful.

After breakfast, Kallisti had met Bernadette, who had requested her presence in the living room. It seemed that she was asking everyone to do that, and she wondered why.

They couldn't stay here much longer. Sickness was abound in the entire state, and the entire land was in terrible shape. They were just going to start dropping like flies if they stayed. Her mind traveled to yesterday. Was it truly only yesterday? Was Marina still alive? Kallisti didn't feel any different, like she had after every time one of them died. Where would they go, if they did leave?

Two days, at the very least, Vanille had said - but she was smarter than that. If they were lucky, things would only stay peaceful into the rest of the day. She settled into a couch with her two companions.

- - -​

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"Did you hear that? Track it, track it, TRACK IT!"

The entire office was in an uproar as Lorinda watched over head, mentally biting her lip. The radio transmission had been filled with an ample amount of static and only a few words were just . . . barely made out, but it was enough to send these gorillas on the fritz.

"Have you pinned a location?"

"It's too encrypted, all the notes are saying the signal and radio wave don't even exist!"

"Impossible, keep looking!"

"One of the computers is saying that it's coming from . . . Peru?"

"Goddamn, can you do nothing right?!"

"No sir, sorry sir!"

These people were tedious; they were giving her a headache. But she knew that voice, and she could only hope that they would never track it down. She put enough money into the system that it wouldn't fail for a long time. It was her only consolation.

 

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tI am scared...

Jessie woke up in a different seat in the back of the car. She raised herself up slowly to see the butler up and driving and she spoke up.

"Good morning sir... I don't recall ever learning your name..."

The butler jumped a bit as she climbed over the seat and into the passenger side, "Good morning Miss Edwards, and my name is Frederick. I am relatively new, so it is understandable that you do not know my name."

Jessie fixed her mask as she did first aid on her leg. She leaned back in the car and shivered. She forgot about the broken windows, but she could deal with a common cold. Much better than radiation poisoning... which she knew she had, but she was lucky she didn't have it as bad as she was expecting. Her father clearly got it worse, along with the neck injury.
Jessie quickly shook her head to stop thinking about it.

"So where are we heading?"

Frederick was silent for a moment before he spoke, "Well, since you are a wanted ma- woman... I figured the best place to leave was clearly out of the state... I am heading northwest at the moment, I am not sure which direction to go."
"Well... north leaves the country..."
"West leaves the state. I am less worried about asylum than I am about health."
Jessie leaned forward in her seat, "Has anyone stopped us yet? While I was sleeping?"
"Yes, only once and it was to hear about our health, not about who we were."

Jessie grinned slightly until she looked out the window and saw all the ruined towns, she wished she could run out there and help the people rebuild or nurse them back to health. There were a couple decimated sections of the neighborhood that were completely deserted and wiped out. She swallowed bitterly as she held in tears. The place she had grown up, reduced to such a state... it was horrifying.

At one point they got to a road with a line of cars attempting to leave as well. It made her a bit more comfortable seeing traffic, but at the same time it stung.

I hope all those other kids are doing alright... I wonder where they all are and how their health is...​

 

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Marina woke up on a lumpy poorly cushioned cot. Her legs were in splints, making it impossible to bend them. The pain seemed dull, like a light throbbing. There was a saline drip stationed next to her and an IV stuck in her hand. She figured it was probably some heavy dosage painkillers keeping her from crying out in agony. It was much appreciated. Her stomach was in knots and she felt nauseous. Marina chalked it up to the painkillers and lack of food. They warned against that, did they not? She coughed and thought for sure it would result in blood being excreted from her mouth, but only lead to Marina feeling further like she was going to throw up. A woman approached her and checked to see how she was doing.

Apparently she had been dehydrated and malnourished. That was plain obvious. Even she could have figured that out on her own. This was a waste of time; she needed to go. Even Milo had apologized saying he would have to take her to the bag lady. So, why were they not doing that? Did they really feel the need to fix her before shipping her off to her death?--apparently so. She rolled her eyes in disgust and prepared to move off of the cot. And do what? How the hell was she supposed to know? A few of the medical staff present inside of the tent rushed to her side to restrain her. "Sorry Miss Sario, but you cannot get out of bed."

"I have to leave." she told them. They all shook their heads at her. A tall figure passed by and she was sure she recognized the man. Why did he not say anything to her?

"No can do. Even if we were allowed to let you go, there is no way you would be able to walk on those legs."

"I will--I will figure something out," she muttered, still focusing on the male nearby.

When the doctor spoke again his voice was much lower, sounding deeper and much wiser than a man of his age. It was husky and a slight breathy. He must have done a lot of running around in this tent and outside of it. "You have to stay until we are ordered to let you leave."

She struggled against their arms and looked over to the oh so familiar person standing with his back turned to her.
"Nathan!" she called out, "Nathan please help me." Her voice was pleading with him. She wanted her big brother. He would make everything better. Why was he not helping her now? The man turned around to face her and her eyes went wide--first with excitement, then confusion, and finally remorse. He was not the man she thought he was. The terrible feeling in her stomach started again and she wrinkled her nose while pursing her lips. Marina looked like she had just bit into something sour when she gave an apologetic wave. "M-my bad. I thought you were someone else." He nodded once respectfully before turning back to whatever was on the other side of him.

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[OOC: --- ≈ Wearing ≈ Client: --- ≈ Location: Infirmary Tent ≈ Day: 53 1/3 ≈ Monday January 21st, 2013]​

 

[OOC: ---↯ Wearing ↯ Location: Safe house//Living Room ↯ Mood: Indifferent ↯ Day: 53 1/3]​

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Temperance sat down in the living room. She was across from Quintus, but purposefully refused to look at her. That whole family had always royally pissed her off, and now they seemed much more chummy than they used too. In addition to that weird Vanille girl, they were all really fucking annoying. Her green eyes settle on Harley for a moment as she scowled. She utterly loathed every last person in this household, but he might be useful. She would have to tell someone what she was planning on doing. The only other person she knew for sure wouldn't stop her wasn't exactly here right now. Her thoughts flashed back to before the bombings. Well, maybe she would stop her after all. Knowing that felt strange. They were like, sworn enemies, or something. Madeline had made it pretty clear that killing herself was allowed.

She couldn't stop wondering what the punishment might be. Obviously they would be getting what they wanted if Crestatia let them die. There's always a right way to break the rules. Temperance bit her lip. What would she do to those that wanted to leave the game early by their own hand. How do I do it? So many different ways crossed her mind. It would need to be something that wouldn't leave her paralyzed or severely injured/disfigured. Jumping was too messy. Her new fear of water outweighed the idea of drowning, plus she didn't think that she was capable of holding herself under for that long. Cutting was too painful and inaccurate. A jolt of pain shot through her wrist and she rubbed the weird scar that was there. She never did learn where it had magically come from.

Where was she? Right--alcohol poisoning would take too long, but might be fun. She could always overdose, but how much was enough? She had heard stories that people that were popping painkillers needed to down like at least twenty. That was a lot. However, they did have bags filled with medical supplies. Maybe she could shoot up with a bit too much Morphine. That could potentially work. Temperance had been so engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn't realize she had still been staring at Harley. She snapped her attention to the side of the room and flipped her hair over her shoulder in an I'm better than you attitude. Then, when it appeared as if Quintus and Vanille weren't looking she glanced back at him and mouthed, "we need to talk."

Blond German girl came walking back into the living room immediately after and Temperance stared absently across the room at a blank spot on the wall. She crossed her left leg over her right knee and leaned back across the couch, taking up half the room. Bernie had said she wanted to speak to everyone. Now it was just a matter of the rest of the lazy asses getting their asses in here. She hated waiting. The sooner German girl got to her point, the sooner she could talk to the man-whore-pig. Guilt weighed heavily on her conscience as she debated all the different ways to kill herself. How would he react? Would he be mad at her? He can never hate me, huh? I'm pretty sure he would hate me if he could read my thoughts. She sighed sadly and closed her eyes, pressing the back of her head firmly into the couch cushion.

 

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【WEARING • LATEST TUMBLR UPDATE • OOC】​

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She hated winter. ...Alright, that wasn't entirely true, but the frosty, wet weather had dragged on for far too long. It felt like spring was taking it's sweet time arriving, and she was ready for spaghetti strap dresses and visits to the beach (not that either of those things would be happening any time soon). For a moment, she forgot about being the target of a crazy woman, or that taking off this protective mask and suit would result in radiation poisoning...Or that she was in the same room as a corpse and a murderer.

Just for a second, before she opened her eyes and greeted the day, she would think about living past her teens. She thought about getting married and maybe getting a dog. A beach house would be nice, too. A lover, a dog, the ocean and the sunshine...Thoughts like these only wafted through her angry mind so often, and they never lasted long. Usually, they only seemed far away. Now, small dreams like these seemed completely unobtainable.

❝100 DAYS, this is Masked Frostie speaking, come in 100 DAYS. If you can hear, find the eagle's nest. There should be a cup-and-string in there. I repeat, a cup-and-string is in the eagle's nest. Over.❞

Her eyes lids fluttered open. Madeline recognized the sugary sweet voice being distorted through the school's intercom. It was the little girl she didn't like. ...There was an awfully large list of people she hated. For a moment, she wondered if she should try and cut it down...but then she remembered her decision to basically slaughter everyone else.

With a deep sigh, she pushed her stubborn body into a stiff sitting position and fought the sudden urge to start sobbing. Grief pooled in her tightening chest. There was so much to be upset about that she didn't even know which thing was bothering her the most.

Sniffling to herself, she set her feet down and gazed at Elliot's sleeping form.

"Hey," she mumbled, nudging his body with her foot. She didn't wait for him to stir and instead started to look around for a radio or some way to communicate back. Staying quiet wouldn't be helping them...Unfortunately, she found nothing. They would have to go to the principal's office. Fun. Hopefully Vanilla could wait until after their summoning, then.

While Elliot was waking himself up, Madeline began to gather science tubes, frogs (yuck!), paper and other supplies around dead-brunette's nauseating body. ​

 

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The hot water running down his skin felt wonderful as he stood underneath the shower. The hot water really kept him awake and after staying up so late it really refreshed him greatly. He thought of many things, but for now he focused on his own course of action. They didn't exist and if Marina could tell him to shrug off death like that he worried for their safety. There would be no mercy and no regret with some of the other. Cold murders would take place, which was why Casey decided it was best he steeled himself. His body wasn't in the greatest shape at the moment but he was definitely stronger that what most people thought he was. They treated him like a kid, but his petty attempts of trying to be manly allowed him to reap the benefits. If somebody dared to kill him he was sure to not go down easily.

With the shower reaching its end, Casey closed his eye and sighed as he re-wrapped his bandages and got dressed once more. With that done Casey walked down the stairs and down towards the area that everybody had sat in

 

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[ Contact Information ► Mood: ... ► Location: BAE ► OOC: N/A ]​

A distant voice spoke, distorted and surreal sounding. It was one from those who were trapped in the tunnels with them but he couldn't remember her name. Really, he didn't even know her. So why was her voice in his dreams? Though, once he was nudged he realized that he wasn't even sleeping. So...the voice was real.

This caused him to get up faster than normal, resulting in a light head and dizziness. A moment was taken to steady himself before he glanced over to Madeline. It looked like she could use help carrying everything so he moved over to do so.

"Picking up where we left off?" He asked, unsure what to do about the intercom at the moment. Could they even be trusted? Well...talking wouldn't hurt, since it was obvious their location was no secret. But this could help more, so talking could wait.

 

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【WEARING • LATEST TUMBLR UPDATE • OOC】​

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"Picking up where we left off?"​

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Slowly, she nodded and tilted her head to move a curl of hair from her eyes. The thick, blonde strands were growing out again like a weed, and needed to be cut. It would have to wait. Hopefully she would live long enough to groom herself again. A small smile formed on her lips as she stepped back from their little ... display. ​

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It was wrong to feel prideful--it really was. This girl had a family, maybe, or people who cared to lose her, maybe, and it wasn't her fault she was crazy--maybe. It was disrespectful to find any sort of joy in this and still, she was curious as to what Crestatia had thought of their little accomplishment. ​

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"Are you ready?" Her eyes lifted to his. Memories of the auditorium flashed back to her head, and she remembered Quin and ... that other girl she didn't care for. She wondered if Elliot would be subject to the same terrible consequences. "Be careful..." ​