@institute-domruthingham​

Dom growled loudly as he tugged at the restraints and tried his best to shimmy the blindfold off his face “This is fucking bullshit.” he hissed more to himself as he continued to tug, his wrists were probably going to be bruised with how much he was tugging. “If the headmaster wants to fucking punish me, he can at least let me fucking fight back!” he shouted “He’s fucking hiding behind all these stupid masters! FACE ME COWARD!” he shouted louder, his voice cracking slightly from the strain, not caring who heard him.

She probably should have gone home after visiting her father. The farther away from the trouble she was, the less likely she was to cause more of it, but--God, that was a lot of yelling.

A family-sized bag of potato chips in one hand and her vape in the other, the smell of marijuana clinging to her like a second skin, Cassie stopped in front of the skinny human, considered him for a moment--and then tugged his blindfold down and prodded into his mouth as a gag, instead. The strip of fabric was loose; it would be easy enough for him to spit out, but at least it would achieve a moment of quiet. 

“Bloody noisy, ain’tch’ya?” she said, regarding him with an eyebrow raised. A cry of pain in the distance made her wince, and she took another hit from her vape, held it for a moment to steady herself, and then turned her head to blow it away before continuing: “Reckon I’d be yelling myself hoarse, too, but I think you’re biting off more than you can chew there, big shot. Big man at the top might be afraid of somebody right now, but uh--and listen, mate, I don’t mean to be rude--you look like somebody pinochio’d a little pipe cleaner man, and you smell human as shit, man, and he’s got a man who can turn into a grizzly in chains, hm? So whoever it is he’s afraid of, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s not you.” She gave his scrawny chest a poke with one finger at that, before adding, “Sorry. You want some potato chips?”

@sheldoney continued from [x]

"Are you sure I couldn't offer you a hot beverage?" Sheldon questioned the woman. He was being courteous. "It might aid in sleep and working overnights messes with REM sleep. I should know I have spent many of nights staying awake solving String Theory."

Her impulse was to tell him no -- Dee had long since made a habit out of trying to not put other people out in any way on her behalf, and she was pretty sure he was just making the offer to be polite, but she found herself hesitating. She wouldn't deny that a hot cup of tea sounded great, and she wasn't in a huge rush to go back to her apartment with however many of her three roommates were there right now. "I -- yeah, actually, that would be really nice, Sheldon. Tea would be great, if it's not too much trouble."

Too Close For Comfort | Winter&Ale

@winters-lust:

Winter felt the magic change before she saw it. Something about the latest stream of fireworks was changing the air around her. She couldn't put her finger on what it was until the shimmering bubble which both protected and trapped the island inhabitants came into view. That couldn't be a good sign. Perhaps it was curiosity or concern but either way Winter followed the whizz and crack of bright explosions to the administration building. For the first time since they'd started on the island, Winter tried to examine the odd and random show for arcane intent... and she certainly found some! Winter waved her hand and symbols began to float in the air before her, magical circles and sigils of light moving and layering as she tried to discover the spell's intent or who might be casting it. It took work, hard work, for her to glean anything from the complicated and powerful enchantment but something became clear to Winter. This firework show was an attack on the protection spell of the island and it- There was a popping sound, the only warning before the administration building exploded! Winter was launched away from the building by the force, hitting the ground and rolling against the concrete before finally coming to a stop. She was absolutely injured, struggling to breathe. The wind had been knocked out of her and the extent of her other wounds remained to be seen. She'd been standing right on the buildings doorstep, there had to be bruising, internal bleeding, perhaps some broken ribs, busted organs as well as the road rash all in various places on her body. She would live but it certainly wasn't pleasant.

Winter struggled to sit herself up, her palms sore and bleeding as she pushed against the pavement. Then a shadow appeared over her. It grew larger and... dammit. Winter just managed to put up a shield to block the large chunk of wall that had nearly crushed her. Fragments of the building which had been launched into the air and was now making its way down to the earth around them. Even those who were further from the blast were not safe. Case and point, Winter only just managed to throw up another magical barrier over a person nearby before a stone nearly smashed them. "Help, please" she asked them as she began crawling out from under her shield and the stone resting on it. Her magic flickered and the stone dropped an inch before she caught it again. Her magic was failing, her left leg refused to move as it should and if she didn't get out before the barrier failed again she'd be crushed none the less.

His first thought when the building exploded was that he wished he'd skipped his run. It was not often Ale wished he'd deviated from his plans, but--well, tonight, if he'd listened to his instinct, obeyed the voice he'd dismissed as paranoia when it whispered that the prickle of magic down his spine meant danger, and not just one of the administration's tricks--if he'd listened, he wouldn't have gone up to his suite to change, would have gone straight from his shift in the cells to patrolling to soothe his nerves, and if he hadn't changed, he'd still have been wearing his motorcycle jacket, and if he'd been wearing his motorcycle jacket--

If he'd been wearing his motorcycle jacket, he might not have caught a piece of shrapnel in his right arm.

He let out a string of rapid expletives as he pushed himself off the ground, spitting dust and blood. He had not consciously listened to his instincts, perhaps, but he'd found himself at the source of the problem anyway. The fire, at least, was not a concern for him, but the rubble, he'd have to pay attention--

Of course, as soon as he'd thought it, he became aware of a shift in the shadows over him, the faint whistling of something moving very quickly through the air.

He moved, whether to call on his magic or his body, he didn't know. Electricity buzzed at his fingertips, but in the split second it took him to react, it was already too late--or it would have been if not for the witch and her magical barrier.

Ale scrambled out from beneath the suspended rubble, none too graceful in his haste. If he'd reacted too slowly before, now adrenaline had awoken centuries worth of training. The woman called out for help, and Ale did not hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a shield of his own to bolster hers. His was a circle of pure energy, crackling slightly as if it were made of lightning because, well--it was. Ale could no longer remember if this was an ability all thunder kitsune had, or if it was one that had been trained into him by his captors, but he'd never been sorry to have it. Even as he was summoning it, Ale was on his feet, all but leaping the short distance to her.

"Gracias, brujita. My turn now," he said, hooking his arms under her armpits and hastily towing her out from beneath the rock. He released the shield as soon as she was clear, ignored the crashing of the rock in favor of setting her down and crouching beside her, gaze flicking rapidly between her and the sky, on alert now--falling rubble would not catch him by surprise a second time. "You are quick with the draw, brujita. I appreciate it. Are you bleeding?" He clicked his tongue, eyeing her left leg with concern. "The leg is a problem. If I pick you up, get you out of here, are you going to hex me?"

@winters-lust​

Winter was about to interrupt with a retort but paused for a moment. Something in his words drew her attention. ‘You locked me away for almost a year’... To Winter’s memory, Jody had asked for that binding, yet now he spoke as if it was just one of Winter’s cruel tricks. How strange that his memories seemed different now...

As he continued a cruel smile grew on her own face. “Oh no, has darling Layla been having nightmares? Maybe that’ll teach the girl not to wrong people more powerful than herself.” The girl had betrayed her first. Her sainted doe eyes had sparked a rebellion that ended with Winter back in that horrible death realm. She hardly had sympathy for the orchestrator of her downfall. She should be grateful that Winter hand’t done worse. There was a price on her head from five of the most powerful french witch families that existed. It would be so easy to hand her over or kill the girl and collect on that reward, yet Winter only sought to teach her a lesson. It truly was merciful behaviour.

“I don’t plan on sending you back,” she responded to his words, tilting her head to the side with curiosity. How had Jody twisted his request in his own mind so much so as to blame Winter? And what did he mean by sending him back? Jody wasn’t sent anywhere by any of her spells. The way he spoke almost sounded like.... a possessing Witch of the Sang Vide like herself... How fascinating...

“I’ll ask again, drink?” she motioned again to her thriving party of debauchery and sin.

“She wanted a life for herself. I can’t help but relate, Winter. And now you’re back with a new body. So what? You want revenge? I thought you cared about her. About me. At least a little...”

Jody didn’t want to get on her bad side, far from it... But he didn’t appreciate Winter acting like the victim with everything she had done to himself and Layla. He wanted to be forthright at least.

He glanced past her to the party going on. The storm raged outside and he knew he should find Layla, make sure she was having fun. Or at least safe... If anyone messed with her, even a little... they would regret it.

“Alright...” Jody gave a nod at the invitation. “Just wine, I hope?”

Margeaux wasn’t a huge fan of these things. But she needed to get out. And what better way to make connections with either those she already knew or those she had yet to get to know, than to go to the events that the school held? So here she was, mingling and enjoying herself. She had to admit, she was feeling pretty good in her little green sundress with the little white flowers on it. She smiled a bit to herself as she meandered through the crowd, enjoying the appetizers as they came.

She was a bit lost in thought, when someone nearly runs into her. Her first reaction was to try and catch the tray for him, but he had it under control. She chuckled a little bit, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay!” she assured him with a wide grin. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

She bit her lip a little bit and sighed. “It’s fine. Nothing bad happened. Those ladies keep eyeing you, though,” she said. “What would you say to helping me with a drink and we can pretend we’re having a deep conversation. That way they leave you alone and we save ourselves the embarrassment of what just happened.”

--

Jackson looked down at the front of himself, surprised he hadn’t managed to make a mess of the skimpy costume he’d been given. “Oh yeah, all good--” His eyes looked up when the women mentioned the mistresses and Jackson’s head shook a little. “I mean, can you blame them?” Jackson preened for a moment, as though he could look anything but ridiculous in the outfit. 

“But I won’t argue with you there, and I’ll never complain about helping a lady get a drink.” Jackson let an easy smile fall onto his lips he raised a hand to gesture her to go first. “I hope helping you with a drink means helping myself to one too,” He said with a cheeky grin as he started getting her a drink. “Because the guard back there cut me off and frankly, I’m not sure how anyone can handle these sorts of stuffy events without alcohol.” 

@margeauxxadkins​

@b4d14nd3r​

A House of Cards and Lords; the Red Rose

“Did y’know that mystery flavored things aren’t actually, like, a flavor?” Jude waved the silver-wrapped piece of candy — an Airhead — between himself and his conversation partner ( maybe willing, maybe no ). The fact that he must’ve pulled it from some secret stash in his pockets is obvious in that no such candy is on offer at the Red Rose tonight, which Jude considered an overt failing on the ownership’s part, but. He knew the ownership, so he wasn’t about to file a complaint.

“They never turn the machines off that makes the stuff, right, but they have to switch the normal flavors out sometime.” He picked the wrapper open with chipped-paint fingernails, revealing the waxy, white taffy-ish candy underneath. “So instead of just throwing out the Franken-candy they get when the stuff is that in-between mixture, they sell it as a ‘mystery flavor’.” Exaggerated air quotes, probably unnecessary. Jude took a bite of the candy, tearing it off with their teeth. The sharp, cloying flavor was a good chaser for their last drink, poured a little too strong.

“So really it just tastes, like. I dunno. Good marketing and capitalism.”

“So you’re happy to eat something out of a never washed machine?” Disgusting. While Thomas didn’t specialize in confections such as those, it was common knowledge that the other shouldn’t have been eating those as if they were proper food. “Do I need to give you another rant on the benefits of eating well?” He never considered himself mom friend material, but Thomas was just not really into eating sugary food in general. That had weighted a ton in his decision to study cooking rather than baking. He loved the beauty of those desserts but he preferred to work with savory.

“This being said no, I did not know that’s how the mystery flavor was made. That’s actually quite interesting.” He held out his hand, to give the thing a try. He’d regret it. Again, he wasn’t too fond of sugar, but at least, he’d have his drink to balance it out.

@malakainolanti​:

Malakai had been on the island for over a month and, as far as things went, he was doing OK. It was that morning, when he woke from a nightmare, that he felt a little on edge. He had been dreaming about the past, about his life before the island, his parents, Andre and for the worst part, Carmen.

When he woke, he reached straight for his wallet and pulled the note, the last thing she ever said to him, on paper. She had left in the night and his nightmare had been extremely focused on that.

He couldn’t sit in the cell and he left, heading straight for the gym. When he arrived, he stripped down so he was just in his shorts and headed to the nearest punch bag. He looked back at the note, folded it and put it away before barrelling into the bag, hitting it as hard as he could. He didn’t want to break down but this was killing him.

“Stupid…. fucking…. Malaki” he spoke, one word for every hit, “No…one… wanted… you… then… or… now”.

His chest and hair was already dripping with sweat but he didn’t care, he was determined to keep punching until he couldn’t or he passed out, whichever came first.

Noah didn’t often use the gym’s treadmill. He preferred to run outside--had to stay sharp, first of all, chasing down reluctant reaps didn’t happen on perfect, steady ground, and besides that, it made him feel like a hamster in a wheel, running to nowhere. There were exceptions though. It had been too hot this morning, and--well, maybe his morning runs didn’t feel the same just yet without Jonah to accompany him, but mostly it was the heat thing, and not a feelings thing, okay?

Having just finished his run, Noah removed one of his earbuds just in time to overhear another early bird unleashing some feelings of his own on a punching bag. He hesitated there, eyes on the man’s back, thinking. He hadn’t meant to overhear, but now that he had, he couldn’t deny this was a familiar scene--one he’d lived himself, though he’d always kept the angry words on the inside.

A moment of hesitation, and then he took the other earbud from his ear and dropped them in the pocket of his shorts, wiped sweat from his brow with the hem of his worn t-shirt as he approached. He came around slowly, swung a hand out to tap the bag and get the man’s attention. “You know, in my experience, this works better when it’s a person, not a bag,” he offered, his tone neutral, nonjudgemental. “Helps when the enemy can hit back. If you want.”

@edward-watford​:

“Can you please take that noise elsewhere? Some of us are actually trying to study here,” speaking up like that might not have been his smartest move but the will to study was such a flimsy force of nature that Edward had to say something. Nothing quite the repetitiveness of a noise to ruin anyone’s studying streak.

“Who, me?” A finger pointed at her chest, eyes wide with very real surprise. She hadn’t realized she’d been making noise, but it seemed the click-clickety-click of her nails on the side of her water bottle had been louder than she thought--she had, after all, been tapping out the same bar of the song playing in her head for the last twenty minutes or so. “Sorry,” she said, offering him a sheepish smile--but instead of quieting down and becoming less of a nuisance, she was up and moving, scooping up the handful of play scripts in one arm and her water bottle in the other, and all but hopping from her seat to the one directly across from him. 

“I was studying, too, you know,” she assured him with a grin, indicating the books she’d dropped in front of her with one hand, not that she was paying them any attention now. “But my books aren’t as big as yours. I bet you’re studying something real smart, huh? Lemme guess! Handsome doctor?”

@ofwindydays

Finn faked the scream to get the attention of the guard. What can Finn saw the guard distracted he took the oppurtunity to take the knife from his assilants hand and stabbed them with it. There was a sneer on his face. But he couldn't shake off the coldness.

"Thanks for helping me kid." He said with an evil smirk. There was a sigh before looking at Hiro, his look unfazed. There was a look. "Would you rather me not speak English to make you comfortable?" he asked, not sure what to make of this guy.

𓂃𓊝𓄹𓄺

Maybe it was the look in the man's eyes or the nonchalant on his face, but the unsettledness had already formed in the pits of his stomach before he could react. Pulling back instantly when the other OEA guard fell to the ground, Hiro managed a curt nod in reply before following with a shake of his head.

"I can speak English just fine," he responded, pausing only when the first comment finally sank in. "I am no longer a child."

@rawbutprecious - from [X]

Aziraphale was still working to reorganize the books. Gabriel had really made a mess of things. He had certainly invented the most unique way to sort books. Who would think to sort books by the first word of the first sentences? It was quite an unusual way to put books on a shelf. It was also very complicated. Getting things put in order was also a challenge. He found history mixed with fiction. He found poetry mixed with art. There were math books with his Shakespeare folios. It was going to take some time to figure everything out. It would take some time to put every book where it belonged. He was lost in his work. So lost that he had forgotten about his tea. However, he was brought out of his book bliss by a familiar voice. He looked over at the couch. "Crowley?" he asked, hurrying over to the couch. "Crowley? Can you hear me? Oh, bother..." Aziraphale did not want the angel to hurt himself so he cautiously grabbed the blanket and tossed it on the nearby chair so that it wouldn't tangle around the demon's legs.

No, Crowley couldn't hear Aziraphale; he'd always been a heavy sleeper, and if the angel wished to rouse him from his slumber, it would take more than that. Somehow, he managed to roll over onto his stomach without toppling off the sofa entirely. Whatever images were playing themselves out in his sleeping mind had one hand gripping the cushion until the knuckles blanched.

For a while, that was all that happened. A few minutes passed with little else from the dreaming demon besides the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders from the breathing he didn't really need but which had become habit after so much time on Earth. But then he groaned, twisting and burying his face in the throw pillow upon which he'd been resting.

I Think I’m Gunna Like It Here

@tiharlanrussell​:

Harlan had been exploring the island in his own good time. Taking in the views and the scenery and everything this magical place had to offer. He had met some people but no one he thought would make a fantastic acquaintance.

As he strolled into the main complex, clicking his fingers to entertain himself with his fire he looked to a person who seemed to be sat alone. He approached them cautiously, making sure to put the fire out before he did and smiled, “How about, you take me to your favourite place, I’ll pay for whatever you want and then we see where the day goes? Hell, if we have fun, this could even be a first date” he winked. He had always been quite forward and this seemed like a good way to judge someone by their reaction.

Cassie sat on a bench, one leg pulled up against her chest, nimble fingers fixing a loose tie on her roller-skate. With an earbud in one ear and her focus on the song she was bopping along to, rapping maybe every other word under her breath around a mouthful of grape bubblegum, she didn’t notice the man approaching her until he spoke, and she took the time to finish tying her skate before she looked up at him.

For a moment her only response was to blink at him and snap her bubblegum loudly, an eyebrow arching at the suggestion that a first date with this stranger might be something she’d be excited about. A bit of an assumption, but not one she’d write him off for, especially if he was offering free shit. She didn’t need free shit, of course--not from strangers, anyway, her father gave her all the free shit she desired--but that didn’t mean she couldn’t want it.

“I think you missed a ‘hello’ in there somewhere,” she told him after a moment, but she was already shrugging a shoulder and rising from the bench, as sure-footed in her skates as she would have been in sneakers. She popped her earbud into its case, slung her backpack over her shoulder, rolling backwards slowly on her skates, expecting him to follow. “But alright. I’ll pass on the date thing, though, if you don’t mind. I don’t date men. Gross. I mean, no offense. I might make out with you or something if you play your cards right. What’s your name?”

@fantasywritten / adam continued from [x]

“YEAH, WELL…” Adam took a swig from his beer, then slumped against the back of his seat. “So do I. Welcome to the club.” He glanced over at her, offering her a forced smile that was clearly hiding his own trauma. “NEITHER OF US were meant to make it out, were we?”

There was a particular sort of nausea that came along with knowing there were other people in the world that shared her particular kind of trauma experience. Too many. She refused to let her thoughts drift to all of those that hadn't survived to live with the aftermath of Jigsaw's so called games. Like her husband. Fingers picked against one of the edges of the jack and coke that sat, mostly untouched, in front of her. "You ever wonder if maybe we didn't, really, and this is just -- purgatory?"

@fayeth-araven​:

Fayeth had stayed in her house for a few days after everything. Distracting herself mainly, she had tried to deal with everything but she after getting overwhelmed she decided to put the memories, the feelings, the questions, wondering what she should do..all those things, put them behind a wall in her mind, and just ...not think about it. Not being bound anymore helped a lot now the only thing that took away from her real self was the glamour that she had been using since she arrived here anyway, yes there were some marks still but she could ignore those well enough. It wasn’t easy keeping everything at bay but keeping busy helped. She knew that she had to deal with all but today wasn’t that day.

So she grabbed her paint, paint brushes and some canvas and made her way towards a nice spot overlooking the beach and just began to paint as she had done many time before and thankfully she truly got into what she began to paint that it was only until she heard some noise near her that she came back, startled she looked over “oh you startled me” she said chuckling faintly.

.

He hadn’t meant to spy. The woman had caught his eye while Ale was out for his daily run. There was a spot nearby he’d found during his last stay on the island; he liked to scale the cliffs there, sometimes. It was good practice. Ale might have destroyed his former masters, but if there was anything he was grateful to them for, it was the rigorous standards they held for his training. He had no interest in letting himself fall behind, determined to remain the unstoppable, uncatchable creature they’d created, for his own sake now instead of theirs.

Now, though, he had been distracted from his training, watching the woman paint. Such things were foreign to Ale, and therefore fascinating as well. He played the piano--the only artistic skill he possessed--but the ability to create images from nothing with only a brush and a handful of pigments eluded him. So. He had not meant to spy, but stepping silently was second nature. It was only when he was close enough to be distracted by the image on her canvas that he stepped on a twig which gave him away with a snap.

“I am sorry,” he told her, inclining his head in apology. “Sometimes I forget to make noise. I do not wish to intrude. It’s very beautiful, your painting. I will leave you to your privacy if you wish.”

@ofwindydays

Finn was getting to the point of the night where boredom was eating his own mind. Finn decided to pull up a deck of tarot cards, maybe he can see how smart these people actually are. Deciding to approach someone random he held up a random card.

"The Death card signals that one major phase in your life is ending, and a new one is going to start." A quiet smirk. "I could find out where yours begin though." He said as if he believed in that.

𓂃𓊝𓄹𓄺

Su-Jin knew it was a bad idea for him to come out tonight. Call it a feeling, but people always tend to be extra aggravating around him for some reason, and at this point, it might as well be a curse. For once he wished that he was wrong. But staring at the prime example now standing in front of him, it was taking everything in him to not shift right then and there.

Teeth clenched at how close the other was, he took a step back, head tilted to the side at the shown card in the man's hand. His words felt like a wave of ice water washing over him and Su-jin couldn't stop the slight curiosity growing inside. "How?"

Marked for Death || Layla & Jackson

Layla was managing pretty well, though her magic flared and sputtered at random intervals but she was riding the highs and lows with more ease than she'd expected. Her classes were paying off.

Others seemed to be having a tougher time. The longer the binding spells remained absent, the more volatile some seemed. She skirted the chaos as she moved down the island streets until her feet came to an abrupt halt.

Had she really seen that? Between the moving crowds, was that face real or were her old nightmares returning to haunt her? Was this all perhaps a dream? It couldn't be, the chaos of the boundary spell coming down was all too real. Then... was that face....

Layla gasped and took a couple steps back as the crowd cleared a bit and she saw the familiar face more clearly. No, it couldn't be! She couldn't really be standing there on the island streets!

Standing before her was her cousin Kalilah DuBois.

"Hello, traitor," Kalilah voice purred out.

Without the institute's protective magic, her family had found her and there was only one reason Kalilah would have been sent to track Layla down like this. The DuBois were seeking absolution from the Sang Vide coven by way of killing the traitor vessel of their family.

"H-how... h-h-how are y-you..." Layla sputtered.

"Seems like someone opened up the gates to your little paradise," Kalilah answered before Layla finished her question. She raised a hand as fire engulfed her fist. "At least you've picked a nice place to die." She offered a cruel smile before launching the ball of flames towards Layla, who stood frozen with fear.

--

Jackson wasn't even sure how long it had been since the explosion, somewhere along the way he'd managed to drop his phone, along with any hope of easily finding anyone. He'd been trying to keep himself away from the worst of the chaos, but he couldn't stop thinking about the people he couldn't find, not to mention it wasn't exactly easy to find a place to hide as a human on the island where an island of unbound supers couldn't find you.

He was heading towards the cells, hoping he might find someone, anyone, or even a place to stay safe for the time being. He was making his way around a corner, hoping to slip past a pair of women he hadn't been paying that close attention to, that was at least, until one of them threw a ball of flames in the direction of the other.

He leapt forward without thinking, arms wrapping around the brunette and tackling her to the ground, the ball of flames singeing the back of his shirt and leaving his back feeling uncomfortably hot.

"Fuck--what the fuck--" he looked over his shoulder with wide eyes at the attacker, scrambling clumsily off of Layla while trying to help her up. "C'mon we gotta run, come ON!" he yells, trying to grab Layla along with him.

@grayxstratford​

This was certainly interesting. Gray had heard the raucous early that morning and had been awoken by guards dragging masters down the hallways in the suites. One of them had asked her name and then after checking their list they had apologized for the inconvenience and left her to go back to sleep. So back to sleep she went, it obviously didn’t affect her- but in the morning she did find it sort of affected her? Indirectly at least. When she walked out of the building and found a large number of people- not just slaves she realized, but slaves, and masters all tied to the ground where they were naked and being tortured. She lit a cigarette slowly as she looked around, this was definitely interesting. What could she have done to spare her this? She didn’t know, but she’d have to keep it up in the future if this was a regular thing. She tried walking around the group but got a little too close in her curiosity and managed to trip over someone’s tied down leg. “Oh for god’s sake,” she muttered as she sat up and inspected her knee.

Dylan was sunburnt and exhausted, and he hoped it wasn’t his imagination that the quad was starting to get a little cooler.  Hopefully the day was starting to be done, because Dylan didn’t know how much longer he could really hold out.  His legs were barely keeping him up, it was mostly just the chains holding his arms up really doing the heavy lifting, legs bent and nearly kneeling.  An eye felt a little swollen, but it was hard to tell under the blindfold, and his stomach felt that ache of hunger, from being stuck for two days in this situation.  He jolted almost violently when he felt something over one of his legs and he whipped his head around, trying to figure out where that came from.  “I’m sorry, I’ll stand!”  And he stood at attention on aching feet, hands clenching into fists above his head.