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 What do you plan on doing in fifteen years?, Fifteen years after SOTF
Slayer
Posted: Dec 19 2005, 10:52 PM


K08y0-67cv ;f09358234905h4et9069rghop3490t834000y954y-0hnrgu83ty


Group: Admin
Posts: 8,388,607
Member No.: 28
Joined: 1-July 05



OOC: I assume the war's over?
Eventually the hotel door opened again, admitting a heavily muscled man with almost clean-shaven red hair wearing grey jeans and a red shirt with the Eagle Globe and Anchor emblazoned on the middle, a Congressional Medal of Honor pinned on the right side (he had debated it with himself, but decided he had the right to show off). His face looked a lot more mature and hardened than when he had been a participant in SOTF, but David Jackson, SOTF survivor and war hero, was still recognizable. Exactly one year after he had returned from SOTF, he had enlisted in the US Marines to fight in the war against Danya's people, which ended a bit afterwards. During his service, he had earned the Congressional Medal of Honor for valor in combat. Soon after his second tour of duty, he had reached the rank of Gunnery Sergeant (the rank he was at now). He had gotten over the trauma of SOTF rather quickly, though he still did have the odd flashback, but he still hadn't wanted to go to the conference. His superiors literally ordered him to take a week's leave and appear at the conference. Looking around the hotel room, he tried to see anyone familiar, he would've even welcomed Jacob (who had almost killed him on the island). Seeing the two women conversing (he was too far away to hear exactly what they were saying, courtesy of an enemy grenade imparing his hearing) and the two familiar looking men, he walked over to the desk, not feeling like acknowledging them unless they tried to start a conversation.

"Hello, I'm here for the conference." he told the receptionist, who handed him a card.
"Name please."
"David Jackson." he said while signing the card.
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Toukan
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 12:56 AM


Ito Yuki Fangirl


Group: Members
Posts: 218
Member No.: 67
Joined: 7-October 05



There were so many people in the lobby that it was starting to make Clare nervous, but it would have been worse if she hadn’t known that most of them were there for the conference. She had never liked crowds much, but in certain circumstances she could deal with them, mainly being funerals and that exact moment because she either knew the people or knew how they were feeling and it was easier for her to process. At least there wasn’t a panic attack this time. When they arrived back on the mainland after being rescued from Survival of the Fittest the entire group had been mobbed by media and the few family members who could make it through. That had been the second worse experience of Clare’s life, the worst being the game itself. Five minutes after they were off the plane Clare had a panic attack and was removed from the throng by paramedics after she lost consciousness.

She licked her lips nervously and looked across the lobby towards the reception desk where a man with the look and mannerisms of a soldier was leaning over the desk, but she couldn’t put a name to the back of his head. A trio standing a short ways away looked familiar, but she still couldn’t place their names. Funny how not seeing people for over ten years will make them harder to recognize. She could probably name every student who participated in Survival of the Fittest by heart and recognize what they looked like ten-or-so years previous, but everyone had changed so much especially considering the rages of puberty had been left long behind.

“Am I truly getting too famous to hang out with a bunch of my old friends?”

Clare looked up and saw one of the people she had hoped to see standing there with a grin plastered across his face.

“Shit, Vince! Long time no see.” She grinned broadly and punched him playfully in the shoulder. Some things never changed, the least of which being Clare’s filthy mouth. “I’d ask where the fuck you’ve been hiding, but the television keeps me rather well informed…Not that I really watch football often.”

The young lady ran a hand through her reddish-brown hair to clear her vision.

“Sorry I haven’t written in a while, but I’ve had deadlines bearing down on me and there was a large traffic accident which, well, you probably don’t want details, but needless to say I’ve been rather swamped.” She was trying her hardest not to babble, but was failing miserably. “I’d ask if you’re doing well, but that’s pretty obvious, too.”
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d0ddi0slave
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 05:03 AM


Such a shame that I didn't know by now


Group: 20
Posts: 1,316
Member No.: 29
Joined: 2-July 05



Amanda smiled at her two friends and watched as Vince handed Hawley a ring off his finger, and walked away. Blinking in a little bit of a surprise, she turned back towards her friends.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. Mainly to see you guys again, but...I guess there's always been a little bit of me that was never really able to let go of the whole thing. Hopefully this'll help us all, right?"

Smiling at her friends, she couldn't help but give Madelaine a big hug in return for the one she'd given her earlier. It had been quite some time since her and Madelaine had spoken, and being back in the girl's presence gave her an odd sense of comfort. She supposed that was why on the island the two had gravitated towards one another. They shared some similiarities, and made each other feel comfortable in such a horrible situation. Besides the fact that they were both partly Asian, the bond between the two girls had been strong for all of high school, and even for the first few years of her post-secondary education. Of course, as some friendships do, the two girls drifted slightly apart, much of that having to do with the distance between them.

But here they were, fifteen years after the incident that brought them together in the first place, standing in the lobby of a hotel that was bringing everyone involved back together again.

"So hell, how ARE you two? I mean, you went off and got married - I am SO sorry I missed it, again...I was in Europe and there was no way I could get out of my obligations. You know I wouldn't have missed it if I had a choice..."

Trailing off, she realized her face had gotten serious, and broke into another smile, happier than she even realized to see her old friends once again.

"So it's hard to believe that we're coming back together again, isn't it? It's been fifteen years, and everyone's changed so much, I'd assume. I can't help but wonder how many people are even going to come...it'd be hard to get ahold of everyone, right?"
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LadyMakaze
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 05:33 AM


Savage Intent.


Group: 20
Posts: 755
Member No.: 32
Joined: 20-July 05



As the man she had been talking to earlier revealed himself as Vince Samsa, and from the sound of his words, Madelaine made out that he was some kind of sports celebirty of a sort. Of course, much like her husband it was like Madelaine to be ignorant about such things relating to sports, let alone football. Still, it surprised Madelaine, realizing how far people who had been part of SOTF had moved on like that, to become world famous celebrities of all sorts.

What surprised her even more was the diamond ring he presented, and gave, to Hawley. According to Vince, it was supposed to be an apology of sorts...one that was more than fifteen yaers due and concerning an incident that was long since buried in the past..

Wait a minute, aren't we going a bit overboard? Madelaine thought to herself, though she said nothing as Vince Samsa walked away to meet with other friends of the past. She blinked with uncertainty towards Hawley, but decided to let it go for now. She supposed it was Hawley's decision as to what to do with the undoubtedly valuable ring.

"Wonder what that was all about," Madelaine said, before shrugging and looking back towards both Amanda and Hawley. Amanda had been one of her closest friends since fifteen years ago, having met and bonded with her during the era of SOTF. The friendship that they shared was one that Madelaine treasured beyond almost everything else, seeing as they had practically depended on eachother to survive on that island. Now, however, was the first time they had been able to talk for more than six years, a moment that Madelaine had been anxiously hoping for, for quite some time now.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling lightly in agreement. "I really wanted to see you again. Well, we've being doing fine thus far." She smiled towards Hawley beside her before looking back towards Amanda. "We've pretty much settled down for a while when suddenly we got the invitation. And what about you, globe trotting and making a name for yourself all over the world?" She laughed a bit. "And don't worry about it, though I should show you pictures from the wedding one day."

Madelaine smiled brightly at the two of them, before shifting her gaze suddenly at a somewhat familiar form at the checkout desk. The appearance of this man in particular had changed since she saw him last, before he left to fight in the war, yet there was little room for mistake.

"Is that....David?" she asked in a hushed, excited tone. "That's him, right? He came too! We should say hi to him together."

It was then that she was suddenly reminded of another person...one that she had not seen present thus far. In fact, she had not seen this person in particular for a while, for a whole fifteen years as a matter of fact. She turned to Amanda, her smile fading slightly in a somewhat worried and anxious expression. Of all people, Madelaine knew that Amanda should know. She should know what had happened to this person in particular.

"Um, just to ask... have you been keeping in touch with Adam as of late, if at all?"
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d0ddi0slave
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 06:16 AM


Such a shame that I didn't know by now


Group: 20
Posts: 1,316
Member No.: 29
Joined: 2-July 05



"Hello, room service? Yeah, I'd like...a, uhh...small pizza delivered to my room, along with a couple cans of Pepsi. Yeah, pepperoni and cheese. Yeah, that'll be on my room. Eight seventy-seven. Thanks."

As Adam Dodd hung up the phone, he stepped to the window and looked down on the city below. Cars zipped back and forth and the small people wandered to and fro on the city streets below. It had been a long time since he'd stepped foot in anything even close to a busy city, and even longer since he'd stayed at a five-star hotel.

Fifteen long years had passed since he'd made that ever-so-fateful decision to just up and vanish. He knew that such a decision would have reprocussions, but to Adam, he knew that it was the only decision that he could make. It was the only way to preserve his sanity, and his life. As it had been, his parents had just recieved the settlement money and it had been deposited into his bank account on the Friday afternoon that he decided he would need to leave. He had walked into his bank, withdrawn ten thousand dollars in cash, and hopped on the first flight to Europe. Nobody knew that he was gone, nor where he'd gone, thanks in part to his slight transgression of getting a false identity. It had seemed the only thing to do, and now, here it was, full-circle, and everything had come back to him. Everything he'd been running from, everything he'd been avoiding for fifteen years, and it was all here, all back.

But he'd run enough, he'd had many a sleepless night and he thought that he was doing the right thing. In a way, he had. He'd become much more at ease with himself over his actions on the island, and while he'd attempted to justify it to himself for years that he was simply trying to save his friends lives, it had hardly worked, and only time had healed the wounds that Danya had inflicted upon him.

It had been closer to the thirteenth year that Adam had truly debated rejoining society. He had a comfortable home deep in the Norweigan woods, a log cabin that he lived alone in, comfortably and solitarily, with only his thoughts and the occasional traveller to keep him company. And here he was, standing in a five-star hotel, thought to be dead by most of his friends, family, and the general American public.

Moving to the desk at the other side of the room, Adam grabbed his duffel bag off of his bed and retrieved his laptop computer out of the bag. Plugging in the power adapter and the network cable, he turned it on and silently wandered back over to the window and waited for the machine to boot up. He'd kept tabs on world events and even some of his former fellow students using his computer, and while he knew very little about many of them, there were a few who were easy to keep track of. The few that achieved fame and fortune, became famous and infamous. Vince Samsa, the football player, was one. Adam read about him, and in many interviews and biographies on the man, he read about the terror of that horrible couple of days, bringing back memories each time. He wasn't surprised when David Jackson's name had come up in the news, as he had heard before he had vanished that David wanted to stick it to Danya. Joining the army seemed like a good enough way.

And then there was Amanda...

Amanda had been the other one he found it somewhat easy to keep tabs on. He knew that she had decided to pursue her music, and the critics universally praised her for doing so. Amanda Jones had become quite the impressive musical star, and toured worldwide. He had even once gone to see one of her performances. Sitting in the same room as someone he hadn't talked to in over nine years had been ridiculously odd, and he knew how easy that it would be to simply approach her after the show, but...he could never bring himself to do it. He simply just looked at the woman that he knew he would love, always and forever, and watched her go and leave her mark on the world, while he sat around, alone with his thoughts.

It had been a strange day when Adam had read about the conference, the television spot that was supposed to take place in two days. Everyone had been invited by the organizers; at least, those that were still living or reachable. He knew he was neither of the two, and as such never got an invite. However, the Internet, as he knew, was a wonderful thing, and when he read about the meeting, his interest was piqued. This could be his chance...his one chance to attempt to put his suffering behind him. All of the nightmares, all of the emotional dreams, and all of the heartache from all that he'd left behind...it was his one chance to solve it all...

...and he had almost not gone. As he had stood in front of the terminal, duffel bag in hand, he'd hesitated, almost frightened to step onto the airplane that would bring it all rushing back. He had almost walked away, and had in fact walked into a nearby gift shop to compose himself, buy a drink, and head home. It was then that he paused to look at a rack of postcards, and one brought back a vauge memory...

...it had been one late December night in the earlier days, the more difficult ones, and Adam had been at his worst. He'd began to drink profusely, and in one of his drunken stupors, he had picked up a postcard from some local shop, and mailed it to the person who made his heart ache the most. The one person who he knew would know what it meant. The memory was vauge, and it was the only thing that Adam could bear to do - to let HER know that he was alive.

He assumed that she'd never told anybody, because any searches on his name on Google only went straight to memorial websites created for him in the wake of SOTF. To the world, Adam Dodd was dead, and that was the way that it had stayed...

A knocking at his door surprised him, and he turned around quickly.

What? Did somebody see me? What's going- oh, shit. It's my pizza.

As he stepped towards the hotel room door, Adam Dodd knew that while he intended upon crashing the conference, he wasn't ready to end the silence that seemed to surround him just yet, because he knew that as soon as people knew he was alive, that silence would very quickly go away, not to be found for some time.

~~~

Amanda Jones sighed and shook her head with a sad look on her face.

"Adam? No, I haven't seen nor heard anything of him in fifteen years, same as you. It's taken me a long time to finally accept the fact that he's gone and never coming back. I always just kind of thought that the island stole him away from us, just like it stole all those others...it just took a little more time to get him..."

Amanda sighed slightly and lowered her voice so only Madelaine could hear.

"It's taken me fifteen years to accept the fact that Adam isn't going to come back, and that I need to move on. Until recently, I've never dated anyone since..."
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LadyMakaze
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 07:21 AM


Savage Intent.


Group: 20
Posts: 755
Member No.: 32
Joined: 20-July 05



"...I see," Madelaine murmured, feeling somewhat remorseful for bringing up the topic in the first place. She began to shift uncomfortably against the tiled floor, her soft-soled shoes casting light echoes as they tapped against the floor lightly.

Now that she thought about it, the topic of Adam Dodd still being unaccounted for was a troubling matter. Hawley and Amanda probably felt the same as she did, worried and anxious about Adam's whereabouts and state of well-being. Once again, it had been fifteen years ago when Adam had suddenly vanished and gone off somewhere, without so much as a proper goodbye to any of his friends. While Madelaine had taken Adam's disappearance quite hard, as Hawley did, seeing as they had been best friends for a mere six days on that island, Madelaine knew for a fact that Adam's sudden exodus into an unknown location had left Amanda devastated.

She had loved him, so of course it must have been difficult for her to accept the possibility that Adam was never coming back. It was hard enough for Madelaine to move on, for Amanda it must have meant a world of pain. And now, fifteen years have long since past, and Madelaine had learned to accept Adam's absence for the time being. Madelaine supposed there and then that she had it easy, since though Adam had been very close to her at the time of his disappearance, he wasn't the most important one. Madelaine had Hawley after all, and also had her hands full with work and school for the first few years after graduation. Because of that, Madelaine was able to move on, and accept the possibility that Adam may never reappear. But Amanda...she probably had no one. Adam was simply that irreplaceable person in her life that meant the world to her, and to lose Adam probably meant to lose a huge part of herself, leaving behind a void that would remain with her for more than fifteen years.

Madelaine herself had moved on, though there was also that other reason she had agreed to attend the conference in the first place. Somehow, the invitation seemed to renew her hope that Adam would suddenly appear in front of them again. Greetings would be exchanged, friends would be reunited, and all would be well again, and far from being just another nuisance from the media, Madelaine saw this event as one that would hopefully resolve the issues of the past by repairing this once tightly-knit circle of friends.

But then there was the possibility that the hopes Madelaine held for this event would end up being dashed. It was the hope she had, that Adam would return to them again. She knew Amanda and Hawley shared this hope, and wished as strongly as she did that Adam Dodd, the one who had looked after them and kept them together, would show his face again.

And now...listening to Amanda, Madelaine was beginning to feel that hope was only false after all. She smiled sadly at her friend and her husband, placing a comforting hand on Amanda's shoulder. "These fifteen years...they've been difficult for all of us. But at least it's given us time to heal, and even move on. Maybe it's the same with Adam, wherever he is now..."
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Swoosh
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 06:41 PM


Unregistered









((Also, I'm assuming this isn't linked in any way to the 'Aftermath' topic, because if it is, hello continuity!))

The 15 years or so had not been happy ones for Callum Hadley. As a teenager, his residual schizophrenia had not been a major problem- sure, people had thought of him as strange, but nothing more. His hallicunations- visual and auditary- had been unusual, but as his parents were never around to see how serious a problem it actually was, it was put down to nothing more than an overactive imagination.

That was why it was such a shock when, upon returning from his time on the island, Callum's condition took a turn for the worse. He became paranoid and withdrawn and his hallucinations were more severe and frequent. It was only when, one time at school, Callum had thrown his plate against the wall, shouting at the chef that he was trying to poison him and turn him into a vegetable- did anyone see it for what it really was. His parents, unable to think of any alternative, immediately sent him to an institution where he remained for four years.

Although he had made some progress in getting better, now- at 30 years old- Callum was not a great deal better. He pushed the door open, his head bowed and his hand in his pocket. He still retained the good looks and spiky brown hair from his childhood, but his face looked withdrawn. Nonetheless, he had wanted to come to see some old faces.

...and Beth.

He had never forgotten about her. Beth, and Lyndi- both of them he had tried to protect while on the island, but he had no idea what had happened to any of them. He had desperately tried to contact them afterwards, but begging his friends and family to help him find 'Beth and Lyndi' was highly inaffective. He had never given up on them; he had never lost hope. Every girl he had passed on the street who looked remotely similar to them, he had studied carefully, but he had never seen either of them since.

Shuffling over to the desk, he shot a quick glance around. None of them appeared to be in the room.

They could be fine... they just could not have gotten here yet. Don't give up...

He signed his name quickly and looked over at where a small group were congregating. He recognised a few of them- didn't have a clue what their names were, his time spent with them was brief. Regardless, he made his way over to greet them, only to knock into someone standing nearby.

"Sorry," he muttered to the someone, who was blonde and had glasses. He didn't recognise her as anyone he knew, and so carried on walking to where the crowd was stood, he tapped one of them- the red haired man- on the back. Unless he was horribly mistaken, he had to be the boy he had attacked back on the island.

"How's your stomach?" he asked shyly, although in a conversational tone, as if this was a thing he asked all the time.

((Riser, doubt if you'll remember but Callum did meet all you guys here! XDD In all fairness I totally forgot...))
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Slayer
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 09:18 PM


K08y0-67cv ;f09358234905h4et9069rghop3490t834000y954y-0hnrgu83ty


Group: Admin
Posts: 8,388,607
Member No.: 28
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OOC: Do you mean David or Hawley? Both have red hair.
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Swoosh
Posted: Dec 20 2005, 09:27 PM


Unregistered









((Haws, sorry. I really didn't make that very clear =\))
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asano
Posted: Dec 21 2005, 01:42 AM


15-year-old Sex Buddha, bitches! PWNED! <3


Group: Members
Posts: 358
Member No.: 58
Joined: 20-September 05



The door to the hotel opened slowly, revealing a tall man, looking to be around his upper 30s, even 40s. The man wore jeans and a jean jacket, and on his head was placed a brown cowboy hat. He'd spent so long in Arizona that he'd gotten so used to the hat, it never left his head. He even slept with it on, much like cowboys of old. As such, the man probably stuck out like a sore thumb in the city hotel. Not too often you see someone wearing a western outfit in an eastern city. The man didn't care, though. He didn’t care that he would be almost completely unrecognizable to anyone who had survived, and did remember him.

The man was Toby Valerik, and his older look was a result of the ‘game’ they had been forced to start, though thankfully, not finish. The stress of those…days, hours, however long it was… coupled with his 15 years of living afterwards had not been kind to him. Formally known as Tobs, this had been dropped. There were so few left who knew the name Tobs, and those that did were on the other side of the nation. The few who would be with him, and knew his nickname, had been ...taken. As such, he'd never again told anyone to call him Tobs. In fact, to his memory, Takara Asano was the last person to ever hear that name. He sighed at the memory. Had he met her under normal circumstances, things could have been different. However, they had met under rather extreme circumstances.
He was now exclusively 'Toby.' An enigma to those he now knew, he never talked of anything that had ever happened to him. Every so often, he'd slip up and reminisce in the presence of others about Michigan, or even people he'd met on the ...the Island, as he called it. These occurrences were rarely explained, leaving most people that knew him after the Island to distance themselves from him.

His mere presence had always been a downer. It was as if he radiated depressedness and sadness from his body; then again, he had enough of it.
He remembered everything that had happened on the Island, yet had refused to seek counseling. Why, even his parents never found out. He didn't see a need to pay for it, though; the events rarely returned to the front of his mind. The only time they ever did was when he looked at anything remotely similar to something on the Island; Toby, upon his return, had immediately forced the removal of all drills from his house, for example. The drills were permanently taboo, thanks to the Island. His clothes from the Island, bloody and battered...he'd had them encased in a plastic wrap-like thing, and hung them up in the back of his closet. He wouldn't throw them away, since they held a scarce good memory, but wouldn't look at them because of all the bad associated.

Upon his rescue, he'd reentered the High School immediately; the only reason he went back to BC High was because his parents had thought he'd be better suited in a school with the people he'd been through SoTF with (ignoring the killers). They could all comfort each other, they'd thought. Well, for the most part, they were right; however, Toby was an exception. While surely not the only one, he did not jump back into the social swing of things. Toby just couldn’t look at a friend and not think of the Island; the things that had happened on it just wouldn’t let go of him.
Toby did not become a loner, or some depressed guy in the corner. Instead, he just simply seemed to keep to himself; when spoken to, he spoke. When he felt like talking, he talked. Even so, he never quite went back to being the Tobs people had known before. For those few people who got to know him at BC High, before the Island, the change was startling, if not understandable.

Toby pulled his low grades up to a respectable B+ average after the events involving the Island had faded into the past, graduating with a nice 3.5 or so as an average GPA. From BC High, he moved out to Arizona, believing the move to be permanent, and entered the UofA. At the University, he held a constant 3.4 or higher. Even so, he never had very many friends. Every time he ‘made’ a friend, he could only see the faces of those who the Island had taken. Still refusing to get counseling of any sort, Toby graduated from UofA easily, acquiring his needed degrees at a normal pace.
He had dreamed of having a job as a pilot since he’d first seen a plane; this was something he had shared with Drew. However, he dropped this career path. Not only had the Island incident begun with an airliner hijacking, but Drew’s life dream had been to fly …and Drew had been killed. Drew had died beside the River, and Toby had been forced to bury his friend of years. Within a day of Drew’s burial, they’d been rescued by the Americans.
Needless to say, this meant Toby had quite the negative perspective on life from this incident on. Once more, very understandable.

He tried to get into the FBI, and made it rather far through the admittance process, but was finally turned away. The FBI’s reason had been ‘mental instability stemming from a High School incident.’ Word for word, that was what had been said to him, and his ideas for jobs just died.
Failing that, he just began to get random jobs here and there. He had enough money to keep his house out in Arizona, but he finally gave up after a decade of trying. He caved, seeking a job as a Pilot, and got the job easily. After quite a bit of required psychoanalysis relating to flight and hijacking, and some testing of a certain wound on his leg.

All in all, Toby lived a comfortable life now, but he was not the social person he’d been before. Any faith in humanity he’d had had disappeared entirely on the Island, giving him a strong faith in himself and nothing else. He found himself friendless and not caring a bit about it, and this fact distanced those few friendly people he talked to from him further. Why had he even accepted the invitation to this conference? He didn’t know, really. A need to see people. To see if they’d been …been taken.

His thoughts returned to the Island, and he recalled what had happened at the River. It had been so frantic, so fast…and it had happened within hours of his awakening on the Island. He’d barely had time to acclimate himself to what was going on, and the River Battle, as he’d dubbed it, had completely shaken him.
He’d become the core of a small group of people, and the River had been the beginning of it and …and the end. The River Battle had started with one idiot trying to get the upper hand against a group, but failing miserably; it had deteriorated into a gun battle within minutes, and Toby’s drill had been all but useless. However, Drew had had a firearm.

He shut his eyes, turning to look away from the crowd of people. In his mind’s eye, he’d seen the Battle again. In the seconds he’d stood there, he relived 20 minutes of Hell. And it hadn’t even ended quickly.
In the movies, battles always ended with a bang. On top of that, if someone important to the main character died, that tended to signify the battle would end in several minutes tops. No.
Drew had been shot in the beginning, and Toby had been forced to fight for 15 minutes with a bullet in his leg, all while having Drew just meters from him, bleeding to death on the River’s bank. And, in the end, the boy who had started it didn’t go out with a bang. No, he died slowly, bleeding from a wound from, of all people, Drew.

No, dammit, no. You need to stop thinking of it like that. Now, get in there and talk to them. Maybe you’ll find someone you remember. He told himself this, over and over. Maybe there would be someone there. Someone he remembered. He doubted it; almost all his time on the Island had been spent digging a hole, and filling it in. The only people who had helped him were Takara Asano and …damn, he forgot if Sid and Chance had stayed. Still, from then on, he was devoted to burying his friend. The body of Drew’s killer was left, completely unceremoniously. Toby had not the stomach to give him the same ‘honor’ of a burial.

From the River Battle, it had only been about 18 hours or so until they had been rescued. By that time, however, the group had been splintered again. They’d been attacked in open ground by another dumb ass trying to get the upper hand against an armed group; Tobs had had to go alone, and he lost track of the others. If they’d stayed together, he didn’t know it. All he knew was that he’d had to spend only an hour until rescue. Alone.

Now, Toby walked towards the Receptionist’s desk, shifting legs every so often in the line. His left leg still hurt every now and then, but the Airline’s psychologist had determined it was more of a Phantom pain. Caused by his own mind’s memories, they said. Whatever.

“Name?” The word jolted him out of his reverie, and he looked up suddenly.

“Um…Tob---Toby Valerik.” He’d almost said Tobs, but no. No, Tobs was a thing of the past. Tobs represented everything he’d been before the Island. He wasn’t Tobs anymore. Not to himself.

[Hm. I think this could be my greatest ever post, bar none. I love this one...@@ Not even my death posts seem to hold a candle to this. Opinions, please?]
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Slayer
Posted: Dec 21 2005, 02:03 AM


K08y0-67cv ;f09358234905h4et9069rghop3490t834000y954y-0hnrgu83ty


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OOC: It was alright. I wonder, is the River battle something that will actually happen, a different version of the one that already happened, or something you made up?
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asano
Posted: Dec 21 2005, 02:17 AM


15-year-old Sex Buddha, bitches! PWNED! <3


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[I made it as a different version of the Kousaka thing, except Drew was already with them at that point. I may do a little flashback thing in a later post...though, something very similar could happen. I plan on having Drew (or Tobs) go out in a similar way...possibly. @.@]
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kuroiraishu
Posted: Dec 21 2005, 05:02 AM


Kurai


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Joined: 22-September 05



Walking into the exquisite lobby of the five-star hotel came a woman of about her early thirties carrying a suitcase in one hand and a briefcase in the other. She was clad in a black business suit, coat and short to medium length skirt with a deep red shirt, and high-heels to complete the outfit. Her long, now black hair, was pulled back into a tight bun with two small strands hanging down the sides of her face to just beneath her chin. Her once crimson colored eyes were now a pale shade of blue, almost silver, in fact this was her natural eye color; she no longer wore the colored contacts, they were a part of the old her from Survival of the Fittest.

One thing about her remained the same though, her figure. The only thing that changed with her figure was that her chest filled out a bit more, and although she didn't wear the skin fitting clothing she used to, her curves were still visible. Her facial expression was stone hard, and the skin remained as smooth as ever, free of blemishes, pimples, or dried out spots. Now, it took little effort for her to conceal her true feelings, as she had been able to practice for the past fifteen years. Also within those years, she had repressed almost all of her memories of her sophmore year in high school.

There was only one person on the Island, Survival of the Fittest, that she felt she would even be remotely happy to see, but she doubted he'd be here. Why had she even come to this? All it would do was stir memories she didn't want to remember, and yet, here she was.

Takara Asano. A tough bitch of a girl, yet carefree, in high school before SoTF had claimed her and her fellow classmates. Now, all that remained of that girl, was the bitch and a cold-heart. She had continued with high school after the rescue, and had brought her grades up to all A's, except for one B in an advanced placement Chemistry class. Over all, she had a 3.9 GPA when she graduated and from there, she went on to UW-Madison to begin her studies of law. From there, she went on to law school and graduated top of her class.

It was no surprise to her that she became a very successful lawyer, what with her attitude and her learning. Her very presence in a room tended to dampen the mood; she always seemed to have an icy feel roll off of her in waves. Nothing mattered to her anymore, not even the money, which she had lots of.

Approaching the front desk, Takara looked around her, as if considering turning her back and quickly leaving before anyone spotted her.

"Name please."

The voice of the clerk knocked her out of her thoughts, bringing her back to the real world. Though, his voice sounded as if he were referring her as just another person like everyone else. But, wasn't she just another person, regardless of Survival of the Fittest? She liked to think she was.

"Takara. Takara Asano."

The clerk took down her name, and once she was fully signed in, she took her room key and looked around the lobby. Was he here? Did he come? She didn't even know if she'd recognize him, she doubted he'd recognize her. Toby Valerik, whom she knew as Tobs. He was one of three people who had stuck with her, and she had stuck with, through most of their time on the Island.

A small shudder ran through her as past memories came flooding back to her. The one that stood out was the River battle that had happened shortly before they were rescued. Drew, someone she barely knew, but had met through Tobs, was the first to be hit. There was nothing she could do to help, especially with his killer having a firearm, and she a pathetic knife. When it was over though, she had stayed by Tobs side and helped him bury his friend; she felt terrible at what had befallen him, and at the time, she knew would greatly affect him, but how she didn't know.

It was a day later that they were rescued, but before they were, Takara had wandered off for a bit of alone time, intending on returning to Tobs side to help him grieve, but a terrible event had befallen her before she could return. She had been grabbed from behind by some guy, and she knew what would happen if she didn't get away. Needless to say, she just barely escaped rape by killing the guy with her knife. She didn't bother to take the knife out of the guy, she just got away and went back to Tobs, where she stayed silent and kept to herself; half frightened, half scarred for life.

Breaking out of her memories, Takara looked about again, spotting an older man wearing a cowboy hat. Squinting her eyes, she tried to make out who he might be, finding him to be recognizable, yet different to a point that she couldn't place a name to him. Out of curiousity, she approached him, taking a deep breath. It took a lot to make her nervous, or even remotely discomforted, but here she was, worrying about talking to someone who was either a complete stranger, or one guy from her group on the Island.

"Tobs...? Is-- is that you?"

For the first time in fifteen years, her voice held a tone of uncertainty, and her face twisted slightly, showing hope, yet ready disappointment at making a mistake. God she hoped she didn't walk up to a complete stranger and asked something like.

Please be Tobs. I can't look like an idiot... not anymore.

Were she a more open person, she probably would have smiled, but now she merely had a cold expression most always, or an impassive one. Her current look surprised her, for she even hid the fact that she was either concerned or worried about someone, and never, EVER, allowed herself to get close or intimate with someone. Tobs, Sidney, and Chance were the only people she really felt close to, and they were the only ones she ever would.


[Whee! Fun fun. Behold, teh Taka has come! >.>]
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d0ddi0slave
Posted: Dec 21 2005, 05:35 AM


Such a shame that I didn't know by now


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The heart had ALWAYS been there, no matter what. That much, he knew, and he had always known. So it was simply heart that embodied all that Sidney Crosby stood for, and to those who followed hockey at all, they would know that he stood for a LOT. After Survival of the Fittest, Crosby had returned to Pittsburgh, where he'd undergone extensive surgery to repair the damage to the bottom of his foot. The surgery had been successful, and thanks to a lot of heart on Sidney's part, he was back on the ice practicing in four weeks. And while Sidney's foot healed quickly, everyone knew that his mind was another matter. It had taken Ottawa Senator Dany Heatley a long time to put the past behind him when Dan Snyder had died in the tragic Atlanta auto accident, and even more time for Todd Bertuzzi to rebound after he lost his temper and attacked Steve Moore, breaking the man's neck and ending his hockey career. But for Sidney Crosby, the experts predicted that the boy who was once being hailed as 'the Next One' would never be the same after SOTF. Mentally, Sid was a bit of a wreck. While he kept in contact with only four students from the SOTF incident, he very rarely liked to talk about it, and only Mario Lemeiux knew the reality of how much poor Sidney Crosby was hurting inside. That first year, he hardly played, only playing in three games all year, and not looking at all like the Sidney Crosby who everyone had been talked about. Some wrote him off, and said he was the worst number one draft pick since Alexandre Daigle had disappointed everyone back in the mid-nineties.

But Sid had rebounded the next year, and became a force to be reckoned with. To the public, it seemed as though Sidney Crosby had finally rid himself of his demons. The year after his disappointing three-game season, Crosby scored 153 points in 82 games in his rookie campaign and picked up the Calder trophy and the Art Ross trophy, awarded to the best rookie and player in the NHL who had the most points. He finished second in voting for the Hart Trophy, awarded to the MVP of the NHL, beaten only by Toronto's Tomas Kaberle, who was the sole reason that the Toronto Maple Leafs finished in 6th instead of down at 15th, scoring 45 goals (easily the best of any defenseman in more than ten years) and averaging a monstrous 37 minutes of ice time per game, in which he was a +51 rating all year. Crosby was beaten but not by much, though some said while Kaberle's stats were impressive, Crosby had lit the league on fire, and it was a controversial decision for sure. He didn't have to wait long for his first Hart trophy, though, as he captured it the year after.

Sidney Crosby in the fifteen years since SOTF had done quite a bit in his NHL career. He played for Pittsburgh for five years and then was surprisingly traded to the San Jose Sharks, where he played another two years and then signed as an unrestricted free agent with the Minnesota Wild, whom he captained to six straight Stanley Cups. A year prior, he had signed with the Montreal Canadiens, who he played for to this day. Crosby'd accomplished a lot in his career, and at the age of 32, he was getting ever-so-close to Wayne Gretzky's assist record, scoring no fewer than 140 assists in every season since his rookie season.

So as Sidney Crosby stepped into the hotel, carrying a small suitcase and wearing a black Canadiens t-shirt, he couldn't help but have a bit of apprehension. Sidney had an admittedly hard time putting SOTF behind him, and it was only when he found out how he could channel his feelings into his hockey that he had started doing incredibly well. Even to this day, however, there were some things that Sid just didn't really understand, and some things that he felt like he'd never. So coming to meet with the other survivors was something that he felt he HAD to do, no matter what. Stepping towards the counter, the smiling hotel clerk gave him a form, not even needing to ask who he was. Smirking to himself, he took his room key from the girl, and turned around into the lobby. A few familiar faces were definitely milling about, in fact there were a few that he knew to be former BC High students, who had been on the island with him. People were starting to arrive, and he couldn't help but wonder how much everyone had changed. Even Takara, Toby and Chance, all of whom he'd tried to keep in contact with via email had likely changed, and he hadn't seen any of them in fifteen years. Scratching the back of his neck, he took another look around the room, and sighed.

Here we are to relive the past, and revisit that which brought us all together. How truly fucked up is that?
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riserugu
Posted: Dec 21 2005, 06:13 AM


just another daydream...


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Stepping through the doors into the hotel, a man in his early thirties slowly wondered in somewhat uneasily as if he didn’t want to be there. All in truth somewhere in the back of his mind, he didn’t… he would have very well wished to remain in California instead of traveling all the way here to go to a conference to remember something he rather not have.

These fifteen years hadn’t been the easiest at first, but giving himself both time and patience he had been able to move on from the horror that he had witnessed and been apart of on that island during the Survival of the Fittest act all that time ago. And of course, probably like a majority of the people here figured they wouldn’t have to deal with that little part of their lives ever again, he figured this too – after getting married. And now well past his sixth marriage anniversary and not to mention a four-year old daughter to support the Survival of the Fittest act was all but forgotten to Glenn Hughes.

“Yeah… I just got to the hotel, it’s bloody nice.” He spoke into the cell-phone against his ear to his wife on the other line; he hadn’t wanted to bring them along to this – no need for it really. So she and their daughter Alix had stayed behind in California while he had traveled over the west coast to the east coast for all this that was happening in the next two days. “Don’t worry about me, this’ll probably help out, and I’ll get to see everyone again.”

That had been the main reason he had came to this thing, he had failed to keep in touch with a majority of the people he had come to know on the island, that included his glob-trotting soccer star of a brother. So when he had received the invite last month, he had decided if not for anything else to go simply to see everyone again.

“Alright, I’ll call you both tomorrow. Love you too.” And with that, closed the phone and placed it in one of the side pockets of his jacket continuing his walk through the large crowd toward the front desk where a large number of people where already waiting in line, glancing about as he walked for anyone familiar. He had managed to speak to Fred earlier in the week, he mentioning that he would be showing up for the conference, though knowing him would show up the minute the TV spot itself started.

Reaching the line leading up toward the front desk, he quickly took a spot in line, swinging his the bag of luggage in his right hand a bit as he continued to glance around for any familiar faces. A number of people caught his attention, but he wasn’t able to say he truly knew them besides maybe sharing a class or two, and maybe having come across one another during the game.

Looking down at his wristwatch he sighed just a bit, returning to looking forward in line as he sifted his feet a bit trying to take the weight off his left knee, which still after all these years continued to bother him still. Though not as much as it had in his younger years, after two surgeries and a pain medication he’d been able to take a majority of the growing pain away and allow him to continue on with his job. Playing guitar in a rather well known band, who had a close following, as well as for smaller local group performances and the such.

“Excuse me sir?”

Blinking out of his thoughts, Glenn faced forward again noting that the line had gone through much faster than he had thought and stepping forward smiled an apology of sorts, “Um. I’m here to check in for the conference?”

“Alright sir, name please.”

“Glenn Hughes.”

The woman behind the desk typed into her computer, smiling a moment as she grabbed him his room keys he taking them with a light smile before moving away from the desk. Pocketing the keys into his jacket and looking around once more, and shrugging off moved the elevator pressing the up button, and watching as the floor’s lighted up on the way down before the elevator doors parted ways. Glenn stepping aside in order to allow some people past before stepping inside him, hitting the button to the seventh floor and sighing as he fell against the back of the elevator, watching as the doors closed and begun to take him to the floor his room was on.

Running a hand through his still shaggy, blond curled hair he let his hand drop as the elevator reached where it was heading too, and he stepped off glancing from side to side down the long halls before heading down one. ‘764… 765… 766… Here we go 767.’ He muttered in thought, opening the door and glancing around lightly in awe, these rooms where quite big… and nice at that too. Closing the door behind him, he dropped his luggage close to the bed, smiling some before fully collapsing against his bed with a sigh.

‘Only two more days…’

=====

Pocketing the ring into the pocket of his jeans, Hawley stood somewhat silent as the two girls talked amongst each other, talking about everything from the more recent events all the way to the whereabouts of Adam Dodd. Their friend who had all but dissapered off the face of the Earth that short time after the end of Survival of the Fittest those fifteen years ago.

Pursing his lips in a thoughtful manner, he listened on to what the girl’s where saying glancing around every so often at the people around them, still noting the familiar faces that fluttered about the room through the crowds.

Rubbing his arm uncomfortable he glanced back toward the front desk, blinking some as he took note of a familiar red-haired man standing and checking in. His mind running through faces and names, till one finally came up, he had remembered the young man had soon joined the military in the war against Danya and his men. And had done quite well, having been awarded a medal of some sort he believed. But like a majority of their tight knit circle of friends that had been made on the island, they hadn’t kept in touch at all either.

David Jackson, he sure did look like a bodyguard now… none the less he smiled at the sight of one of their old friends, glancing over at the girls once more as Madelaine seemed to take notice of David as well. Though they once again seemed to go off in talk of another sorts and Hawley seemed looked off again, switching the luggage in his one hand off into the other as holding it had become a tad bit uncomfortable for the moment.

Though as he stood there with his back somewhat to the girls, he felt another tap on his back, expecting it to be either Amanda or his wife trying to get his attention he turned back a little. Coming to face that of another man, one that was quite oddly familiar, the new man asking him a rather odd question as well.

His stomach? Glancing down, he blinked a bit… well he felt fine. Though glancing up again toward the man, he frowned trying to figure where he had seemed so familiar. But taking the question and the familiar face he finally let them click as his mind went back to the time on the island, and the time when they had been looking for Adam. Though he rather not remember the detailed facts of why the other had attacked, he knew it had to do with all the inner troubles he had been having there.

This man here – Callum was it? He had been looking for someone on the island, some girl… but something else had seemed wrong with the young man at the time. But smiling some, Hawley nodded, “I’m fine – quite fine really, I… um… how have you been? Callum, right?” Hawley asked, still unsure if that was the other man's name or not.
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