To Whom This Now Concerns,

So, things hadn't seemed to get any better for Callum Crux. With every passing moment, he found himself wondering more and more why he had even come. He should have just stayed home, or gone to school, but no; he had made the decision to come. Once, he had made a decision, many years ago, to continue living. To not give up completely on life, to keep wading through the sorrow, pain and despair, no matter how bad it got. Boy did he regret that right then, but despite everything Callum was a man of his word.

"Points for creativity, but I don't remember being a little **** or killing social situations being counted as hobbies. Now, if you excuse me.." Callum said, voice trailing off as he reached over and took the knife. This wasn't the first time he had played the game, not by a long shot. He wasn't allowed to kill himself or allow himself to die, but he had made no promises about self injury. With a speed that put most people playing to shame, Callum expertly placed the knife in between each of his fingers and did exactly what he was supposed to do flawlessly. Once he had finished, he stood up straight and placed the knife back on the table.

"Sorry for not singing, it's never been my thing" he said simply. Looking around at the others, he tilted his head on an angle slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot that most of you here would love nothing more than watching me bleed. Well, I aim to please. Wouldn't want to 'kill the mood', would I?" he asked. Picking up the knife once again, he spread out his hand slightly and with a quick movement, he sliced open his ring finger. Using the same knife to cut part of his shirt, he then wrapped it around his now-quickly-bleeding finger, put down the knife, turned around, and walked back over to sit down. The pain helped distract him from the aggression he was feeling within, and helped to keep him quiet and not starting any more problems.​

 

At this point Damion had completely toned out all of the bickering going on. The relief he'd gotten from the lack of smoke in the air was short lived as the annoyance pulled out another cigarette. While that wasn't much of a surprise and he had little intention of saying anything to him, what was surprising though was when Tasha got up and whacked him on the back of his head. He hadn't pegged her for the violent type, not that he should talk about being violent..

As the whole cigarette incident ended, someone other that the ones at the table decided to speak. It was a female and she was holding a knife, not the best of combinations to see. At first she told them that they could leave soon if they did one of two things, which was great and all, but after hearing the two options he didn't feel all to relieved.

Either take a chance at Five Finger Roulette or name 3 hobbies of at least two of the others. The better choice was pretty clear, but considering how much bickering that was done instead of learning hobbies, excluding Tasha's first attempt into break the silence among them and seeing as how three of them had already took their shot at the game and each of them had ended with similar results. In fact Drake was the only one who'd even bothered with trying to guess hobbies. If creative BS worked then Damion defiantly would go the hobby, route, but unfortunate he didn't feel like waiting.

Taking the knife, he placed his hand on the table and got ready to start, but first he turned towards the girl and spoke. "Just so you know, I won't be sining the song. Figure I can get the same results either way." With that said, Damion began the game. Now he wasn't much of a lucky kid, especially considering all the **** that's happened to him over the past years, so playing this definitely wasn't the best of ideas. That didn't stop him though, which even nick and cut Damion kept going, even speeding up the pace right til he ended.

"There finished." Most of the fingers on his hand had about two to three cuts on them and were dripping blood as he lifted his hand up. He then moved his hand by his side and walked away from the knife and towards to grab some of the leftover napkins on the table. It wouldn't be a permanent solution, but it would be good enough for right now. It seemed that once again keeping his family form worrying about him had gone out the window. If he could actually leave, then he knew who could help him with his bleeding hand. "So can I go now or what?" His hand was currently resting on the napkin so that there wouldn't be so much of his blood everywhere.

 

The girl watched as all of them came up and played her game. None of them seemed to try and examine what she looked like, so she was happy that meant her cover was still somewhat maintained. She listened to only one man attempt at hobbies, and they seemed reasonable enough until one of them called nay on a hobby. Which she thought was odd, she thought it was even more odd that the same boy sliced his own finger.

The girl leaned closer and looked at the boy and smiled,

"Hm... note to self... keep knives away from suicide boy. He's cutting himself. I don't approve of that attempt of gaining a rush..."

She grabbed her knife and wiped off the blood, "Sorry all of you, but the rule of the knife game is to not, in any way, shape, or form, cut your hand with the game knife." she looked at Callum and shook her head, "It's a shame, you would have gotten out of this and not had anything to worry about. Curious about this whole debacle huh? Got nothing better to do? I like that."

The girl grabbed the collar of Callum's and pulled him closer to her and she gave him a kiss. Which she cut off when she heard a door being broken down.
​

​

​

"Emma!"

"Ugh... you broke the door down?"
​

"What did we tell you about harming the guests."
​

There was laughter from Emma before she leaned towards the man by the door and spoke, "Guests? You have the gall to call them guests, my friend if they were guests they would have willingly come here without any grievances. They would want to be here. Plus, you know it just makes the progress faster."

The man looked away and spoke as Emma stood up twirling around her knife, "Hello, my name is Emma Revere. I have all of the information and none of the information at the same time. I have no intentions to kill, nor intentions to experiment. And while some of you may be looking at me crazily. I have less of a want to be here than all of you. Nothing against you... I just hate the way things work... anyway."

Emma walked up to Damien and put her arm on his shoulder and continued, "I am surprised none of you have done some form of research. You've been suckered in. All of you. Now if you will excuse me." the girl quickly grabbed Damien's hand and sliced it, allowing it to bleed for a moment before she put something on the wound, causing it to clot almost immediately, then she put a bandage on it, "Yeah, kick my ass later. I know you'll want to."

The man silhouetted quickly grabbed Emma and pulled her away and restrained her arms, "Stop it, Emma. Right now!" Emma pulled away from him and he took the knife from her and spoke, "What did you-"

"I have my reasons, I'm not telling you what I did. You just didn't get here fast enough to stop me." she cracked her knuckles before the man spoke, "Get out of the room, now. We will silence you if you do not cooperate."

"You can't touch me. You know you cannot touch me. Not so long as Alex is here."
"ENOUGH."

Emma grabbed the table quickly as a look of pain crossed her face. She started to breath heavily as she took a seat.



"You know as well as I do that if you interfere with this batch like you did with the last one, you WILL be not only silenced, but put to sleep."
"You make it sooo nice, Dick."

Emma let out a small yelp in pain before her head hit the table and she seemed not to move. She looked across at the group



"Hope I didn't piss you all off too much... believe me when I said I've done more help than harm."

The man grabbed Emma and left the room, leaving the group in silence for almost a minute before somebody entered the room.



"I am terribly sorry we sent the last man in here to help you all medically and it seems all he did was make things worse." the person let out an annoyed noise before continuing, "Please trust me when I say we did not intend for the girl to come in here and harm you, and that we are willing to compensate for whatever damage was caused. But we do want to help you immediately with whatever you may need..."

They pulled out a first aid kit and held up an I.D saying, "I am CPR and first aid certified if you need that much more proof. It is understandable given the circumstances."

​

 

After finally recovering from the shock of being kissed by Emma, Callum abruptly shoved her away. "Don't you touch me" he said, a low grumble to his voice as he spoke. If there truly was a personal bubble, one thing that was certain was Callum did not like having it invaded. Although, not everything about the girl was disliked, he did like the slicing of the cop's hand. The cop wasn't a friend by any means to the emotional wreck, so seeing his hand get cut open was something he almost found amusing. Almost. "Cutting people isn't going to get anything achieved, so cut it out. Don't get me wrong, I love the idea, but depending on why the **** we're here, I get the feeling it might be better if we're, y'know, alive" he said to Emma as she was taken out of the room.

Walking up to the man that had first aid training now, he took a much closer look at the ID he had provided. "So, Derek Sykes, mind telling us why we've been brought here? That letter, for all its formal wording, didn't really give us any ideas" he said. The boy was up in Derek's face, standing very close to him and glaring as he spoke. If Callum had had any sort of joy before, which was very unlikely, there was no doubt that it was completely gone now. ​

 

"Oh man, you are one fine piece of ass. Would you **** me? I'd **** me. I'd **** me hard." Beuce said, staring at himself in the mirror of the elevator wall. He flexed, posed, and winked in all sorts of manners. After like, an hour and a half of nothing but this. Backing up, he accidentally pressed the open doors button with his magnificent ass. The doors slid open, and Beuce walked out of the elevator. Stepping into the conference room directly to the right of the elevator, he opened the door dramatically in a slow and stylish fashion.
"Dududududududud​

Woooweeeeee​

Dududududududud​

wooweeeeee​

dudududu​

chrrrr​

wooeeee​

dodo do do doooo do​

do dodo do do"
The white haired man acapella'd as he entered the room in a dramatic way. The light shone at his back, enveloping his face in a warm glow. The wind swept through his hair, blowing it perfectly to the side. He walked in slow motion down the way as thousands of women screamed and cheered and begged to let them have his children. He was appreciated the way he deserved.

Well...

In his head anyways...

In reality, he just walked in slowly, singing the song as he walked slowly, blowing kisses and waving to nonexistent adoring fans, and probably looked like the oddest person alive. Wasn't far off it either. Coming back into reality (kind of...) He looked around to see everyone's hands were bleeding and some guy was being extremely depressing. Walking up to callum, he pinched his cheek and put his face close to him. "Aww you're all sad and stuff. I can tell this is going to be more fun than a pair of bunk beds. Remember kids, playing with knives results in becoming a ninja. So be sure to do it a lot and get plenty of practice." ​

 

Drake listened to Tasha apologize and ask for help dressing her cuts. He didn't really have much on hand to cover up a wound, but he looked to the tablecloth and moved over to rip off a piece from the corner. With some effort he did, and he haphazardly wrapped it up. Once that was done, he focused his attention on little miss crazy as she started explaining that, essentially, they'd all failed. She moved over to Debbie Downer and kissed him, pissing him off and giving everyone else something entertaining to observe. Suddenly, another guy came in and started scolding her. Was he the one who'd written those letters for him and Will? They bickered for a bit before she finally put a name to the crazy face: Emma Revere. His curiosity was piqued at the name. It wasn't exactly common.

Suddenly, she moved over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He was surprised and caught off guard, but he didn't dare to push her away while she held the knife. After saying they'd all been 'suckered in here,' she grabbed his palm and sliced it open with the knife.

"The f*ck!"​

He looked to her, but she wouldn't let his hand go. After a moment, she wrapped and bandaged it.

"Yeah, kick my ass later. I know you'll want to."​

"Damn straight," he thought to himself. This bitch was off the wall, and if she didn't agree with what was going on, they were in deeper than he thought they ever could've been. The rest of her antics passed by, but he was no longer concerned with that. He was more afraid of what came next. Whoever was in charge was clearly watching things unfold, so this might've just been some kind of crap test. Another guy came in after Emma was dragged out and said he was CPR and first aid certified -- which wasn't exactly comforting, because he was still working with all the other nutjobs in this hellhole.

Before Drake could make note of that, however, another loon stepped into the room. He was singing some kind of song that vaguely resembled Chariots of Fire and walking in like the guys in Armageddon, though he didn't look nearly as badass. He walked over to Double D and started rambling about some kind of ninja crap. He could already tell this guy would give him a migraine.

"Oh, you wanna try slicing your hand open, jackass?"​

He was all around irritable, and he wasn't going to put up with any more colorful characters -- especially seeing as the last one had apparently sliced his palm for kicks.

 

Here Damion was sitting down with a bleeding hand due to the damn game that she had them play with the hopes of leaving and she go out of her way to say that the point was to not hurt themselves. If that was the case, then why give them a knife, Of course someone was going to get hurt by a knife, she's just lucky that it wasn't her. That wasn't even the end of it.

Next the sounds of a door being broken down and another mysterious person entered the room. The person definitely wasn't all to happy with the girl's, who name was revealed to be Emma, actions and threated to silence her. The first thing that came to mind when that was said was that she would pretty much be killed, mainly due to all of the books and games he's played. Damion hadn't moved an inch aside from turning his head while all this went on, all the way til Emma left and someone else showed up. This one willing to end to their wounds.

While there were doubts about the man, the fact that the couple of napkins that his bleeding hand was on were quickly becoming soaked with blood and since he'd rather not pass out due to blood loss, Damion grabbed a few more napkins and wrapped them around his hand before getting up from the table and walking towards the man offering medical help. In a way Damion was glad that someone had showed up offering medical help, now he wouldn't have to make up a lie about how his hand got cut up to his boss which in turn would save him a lot of explaining in the long run.

Things had calmed down a bit and someone else walk in and well, if there was a contest for strangest entrance he would win. The man was singing to himself as he eventually approached the annoyance, who was questioning the medic, and pinched his cheek. Better him than me. He shrugged, before walking up to the man. "Since your offering, mind fixing up my hand. It's not like answering questions will keep you that preoccupied."

 

So, the day was only getting worse and worse for Callum Crux. Despite not particularly enjoying socializing, he had done it far too much that day. Not only that, but people were touching him and making him feel very uncomfortable and irritated. For a brief second, he considered simply punching the guy in the gut to get him off him. Too many people had invaded his comfort zone that day, and he had had enough of it. Although, something about the newcomer gave off the vibe that he wouldn't hang around for too long. He simply stood there, waiting for him to be let go of.

Aaaaaany second now.

He must be getting bored of it now.

How long is he going to hang onto him? It felt like forever.

Okay, that's it, he's going to let go right now, he thought to himself. With a decent amount of squirming, he got out of the grip, making sure to keep his glasses from falling off his face as he did so. The lighter in his pocket wasn't the only thing he had in there. The boy was a paranoid child, always believing the worst that would happen to him, and so he had to be prepared. Plunging his left hand into his pocket, he whipped out a small pocket knife from there. It was only an average size for a pocket knife, but he knew for a fact that he could cut someone if he had to; past experience told him that.

"You keep your hands off me, or you'll find yourself missing them. You got that? Keep the **** away from me" he threatened, his eyes now showing a mixture of both anger as well as undeniable fear; it wasn't particularly hard to see in the teenager. "That goes for the rest of you too, especially" he said, now directing his gaze at Tasha and Drake, "you two" he added, now backing himself to stand in a corner with the knife held in front of him, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary.​

 

OOC: Will make an actual banner for Beuce eventually.

Beuce put his hands up as Callum pulled a knife on him. Backing off, Beuce walked into the back of the room. "Jeez man, you people need to lighten up." He said to most people in the room. Casually, he strolled over to the food table. The man named Derek seemed to walk over to him in particular, and hand him a letter. Opening it, Beuce skimmed over it, then tossed it out the window. "Welp, that was junk mail. Something about a time share in the Caribbean or something." He walked along, as though looking for something good on it. Eventually he came across two unmarked bottles of what appeared to be a dark brown soda. Unscrewing the cap, a slight fizzing sound was heard. He brought it to his nose and gave a small sniff to it. "...Dr.Pepper. They gave us doctor pepper." Grabbing a couple cups, and began pouring the drinks in it. Some of them were of one of the bottles, and a few he got fancy with and filled with half each bottle, probably for no other reason that to look cool (Well, he thought so anyway). "Come on, Dr.Pepper is the cure for all ails! Everyone loves this ****!" Picking up two of the glasses which he poured fancily, he walked over to Tasha, handed her one, then Callum and handed it to him. "Cheers!" ​

 

Callum stood there for a moment, still fuming but at the same time he was listening...something listening, to Beuce. He was offering him a drink, and Callum was a little thirsty. Slowly but surely, the idea began to appeal to him. He hadn't tried Dr Pepper before, but he had heard many good things about it, and maybe it'd help him feel a little better. Maybe a good drink was what he needed. He was still thinking this when Beuce suddenly shoved the drink directly towards his face. Cautiously, he held the knife with one hand, ready to attack, while the other hand reached over and took the drink.

He stared at it for a moment. It looked so refreshing. Well, it was time for him to find out if the rumours were true. Tipping the cup up, he quickly downed the liquid in seconds. It tasted fantastic, he found himself wanting more immediately, but not too much. He should wait for the others, to see what they would do. Knowing how good it tasted, he could easily imagine the people there, clambering over one another to try to get the last cup when the rest of it was gone. He would do what he could to make sure he got the last one, of that he was certain, but maybe a combination of the built-up tension and the idea of a temporary distraction from the madness would drive people to fight over it; the very idea brought a tiny smile to his lips.​

 

As the man bandaged up his hand, the annoyance had pulled out a knife that he was apparently keeping on his person the whole time. That would definitely be a problem seeing as how willing he was to cut someone with it, but how exactly would the ones responsible for this react. They'd made it pretty clear that they had little intentions of harming them here, so this may provide some more interest in all this.

With the injuries on his hand taken care of, Damion made his way back to the table and took a seat next to the clump of bloody napkins. Least this way it would be easier for him to hide the fact that he'd gotten hurt while he was out. He may have hated lying to his sister and mother, but he'd rather lie to them than have them worry about him. Damion was more than capable of handling himself if things got ruff. The less people worried about him the more focused and unfortunately reckless he could be.

His gaze was mainly at the table when he heard someone speak to him. At first only his eyes moved to see who it was, in the event that said person were to bother him with something stupid. Seeing that it was Tasha, he looked at her and the cup that she was offering. "Thanks." He then took the cup and looked to see what was in it. It definitely smelled familiar, so he then decided to give it a little sip. The flavorful liquid touched his tongue as the small sip turned into a quick gulp. Once he'd finished, he placed the cup back on the table and wiped away the reaming droplets from his lips. It had been quite some time since he's had this kind of soda, so it was quite the refresher that they had it for him to drink.

 

Callum looked at Tasha suspiciously. She was smiling, why was she smiling? They were trapped in a building with strangers, probably never going to see their families again (Callum couldn't help but chuckle a little at that thought), and on top of that both he and her were almost enemies, so what could she possibly find in the room to make her happy? "I like your stupidity" he responded. He allowed the response to sink in, to give the girl time to think about it, before letting out an enormous sigh. He was going to regret this later, he was sure of it.

"I don't give people second chances. When somebody has attempted to cause me pain, there's no purpose in letting them try it again. That being said, I'm sure I could..maybe try to forget about it" he said, contradicting the beginning of his own sentence. His head was fuzzy and he was having trouble focusing, but he remained focused enough to not shake hands. Forgiveness was one thing, making physical contact was another. "My name is Callum, if you must know. Now, forgiven or not, people make me feel really uncomfortable, so please don't come near me" he said. While Callum's way of speaking sounded a little formal and certainly different to normal, the tone he used was the same one he had maintained throughout the majority of their time in that room.​

 

This was all getting dull and boring, but he did have alcohol so at least he was content for a bit. Why did water have to be the free one while alcohol was the one he needed to pay for...man sometimes he wished he was Jesus. Regardless he did receive a piece of paper and he raised an eyebrow at what it said. It was interesting to say the least, but regardless he took a drink of alcohol and crumpled up the note, shoving it in his pocket.

The bottle of alcohol was almost complete. Things were distorted and messed up, the world was unfair and cruel, but alcohol was the worlds blood and if he drank it he would be basically drinking the world's blood from it's cold lifeless carcass. Anyways, Willy could only stagger on and placed his arms around the shoulders of Beuce. "Yah no, ur a pretty cool guy eh! Ya know what Im talking aboot? Everyboodys a hoser here eh, yur a hoser, he's a hoser, shes a hoser, we're all a bunch o hosers eh!" Willy said happily before releasing Beuce "ah but then again we all could be in a worse situation, for all we know we could be trapped in a whorehouse...though all it would take is a little fire to make the captors say fuck this **** and run like a pansy" Willy said pouring alcohol into one of the filled cups and handed it to Damien with a grin "C'mon I know your an alcoholite like me! drink drink drink!" Willy said before he moved away and happily begun twirling around with the bottle in hand.

He twirled and twirled with his arms spread out until there was a shattering noise that made him stop. Glancing over at what happened, Willy noticed that he had hit that Derek guy in the head with great force. Closing his eyes he scratched the back of his head and giggled a bit "heheh...whoopsies.." Willy said

 

Callum stood still for a moment, leaning against the wall which i'm fairly sure he was nearby the last time I posted. This girl, she was beginning to bother him. He wasn't sure which he found more annoying at that point, the fact that she seemed to have it out for him 90% of the time, or the fact that despite everything she was still trying to get along with him. He was a random stranger, no affiliation with her of any kind, so why was she so damn determined to speak to him all of a sudden? Still, part of him couldn't deny that he found the notion amusing, almost...calming?

"Course I hurt you. I hurt everyone, it's in my nature. It's not exactly my fault, I blame my dad" the boy said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he spoke. "That being said, I.." he started, before seemingly finding a lump in his throat. It was as though something were blocking his speech. "I...I'm.." he stammered, trying once more but to no avail. "I'm sorry" he said simply, finally spitting it out and then breathing in an enormous sigh of relief.

"What I do in my spare time.." he started, before pausing once more. 'Is none of your business', he wanted to say, but some part of his mind was saying no, to not say that, to try and get along with her. Part of Callum wanted to push this girl away and continue his isolation, yet part of him wanted to get along with her, to almost make friends with her. The very idea of having someone around to allow them to hurt him more was one he detested. "Generally, what I do in my spare time is take pictures. I do photography, I've been taking a course on it these last few weeks, actually" he said, answering her question.

He turned his attention towards Willy, who had knocked out Derek. Callum found a sudden burst of anger in him that he hadn't realized was there, and immediately rushed forward and stood tall, mere millimetres away from his face; so close he could smell the alcohol on Willy's breath. "Are you ****ing crazy? Were you dropped on your head as a child? That guy's with the people keeping us here, the people that brought us here, we need him! And you go and knock him out? Drunk or not, you're a goddamn moron" Callum spat out, before turning to face Derek. While he might be feeling a little happier since the drink, there was no denying that Callum was still very much himself in many ways. He bent down towards the ground and began backhanding Derek's face repeatedly in an attempt to get him up, all the while shouting at him "Get the **** up!".​