06-01-2008, 09:31 AM
Night pressed its chilly hand down upon the weather beaten sandbar. The moon’s glow bathed the area in a silvery light, the water in the distance rippling in its ambient radiance. The air was crisp, clean, and just a tad salty, but amazingly, the humidity was quite comfortable, especially with the light breeze coming from the distant ocean.
The black clad woman padded barefoot through the coarse sand, the tiny grains squeezing up between her toes as she treaded away from the ocean. Her long, amethyst hair hung unbound around her shoulders, face devoid of makeup, except for the distinct somber cast that chiseled into her soft features.
With her brown satchel slung across her shoulder, her shoes dangling from the fingers of one hand, Violet found herself immersed in the natural beauty of her surroundings. It wasn’t bad as a resource site, but as coverage? Unless she made it to the trees in the distance, she was pretty much boned.
Her first and foremost thought after being teleported from the barracks was the competition. Where could they be? What kind of danger was she walking into? Would she run into someone she knew?
"Can everyone hear me?" The distinctly feminine influenced voice came like an omnipotent god across the land, stopping the young Earthling in her tracks. Two years now in this bitch, and she still didn’t know where these speakers were. Where there’s speakers, there’s cameras, and microphones. For a moment, she thought of the hilarity of coming across one and pranking the entire island. "Welcome to your new home for the next seven days! Here is all you need to know:
Find each other. Kill each other.
If a winner is not found in seven days...nobody wins! So let's not let that happen, kay? Good luck, kiddies!"
“Jeez, dude, get some pussy,” Vi muttered grumpily as she shook sand from between her toes. It wasn't that she was a bigot, it was that she remembered the oddly feminine voice from the first Dante's; it got on her nerves then, and it got on her nerves now.
Tossing her bag to the ground, she plopped her leather wrapped ass down beside it and started to rummage through its contents. “God, this food isn’t going to last long.” She cast aside the water and bread, and dug in again.
Her fingers found a hard plastic object, heavy, definitely bigger than her hand. Lifting it out of the bag, she held the object up in the moonlight, trying to make sense of the gun-shaped device. The source of the heaviness lay in the large square battery pack affixed to its base, and the roll of what appeared to be ammunition hanging from a long, dangling plastic chain. “Neat. Now if I had some wood, I’d be in business.”
She pulled a stripped scouter from the bag and strapped it around her forehead, the tiny greenish screen flipping on and calibrating. Its mechanical beeps roared over the distant crash of waves as it surveyed the area. A few blips mapped out on the display, some far, some really close.
Out there in the sea of dots, she wondered, where was everyone? Where was Bardock? She sure would feel a hell of a lot safer if he was around, hell, better awkward and safe than alone and vulnerable, right? Besides, he promised. Implied or not.
Sitting out here on her ass wasn’t finding him, so shoving her supplies back in the brown sack, she slung it over her shoulder and moved along. In the back of her head, the soft voices began. Remnants of old internal monologues, jumbled together in some kind of indiscernible tangle.
They were out there somewhere, some strong, some weak. Maybe he was out there, too. They all were waiting.
For her.
The black clad woman padded barefoot through the coarse sand, the tiny grains squeezing up between her toes as she treaded away from the ocean. Her long, amethyst hair hung unbound around her shoulders, face devoid of makeup, except for the distinct somber cast that chiseled into her soft features.
With her brown satchel slung across her shoulder, her shoes dangling from the fingers of one hand, Violet found herself immersed in the natural beauty of her surroundings. It wasn’t bad as a resource site, but as coverage? Unless she made it to the trees in the distance, she was pretty much boned.
Her first and foremost thought after being teleported from the barracks was the competition. Where could they be? What kind of danger was she walking into? Would she run into someone she knew?
"Can everyone hear me?" The distinctly feminine influenced voice came like an omnipotent god across the land, stopping the young Earthling in her tracks. Two years now in this bitch, and she still didn’t know where these speakers were. Where there’s speakers, there’s cameras, and microphones. For a moment, she thought of the hilarity of coming across one and pranking the entire island. "Welcome to your new home for the next seven days! Here is all you need to know:
Find each other. Kill each other.
If a winner is not found in seven days...nobody wins! So let's not let that happen, kay? Good luck, kiddies!"
“Jeez, dude, get some pussy,” Vi muttered grumpily as she shook sand from between her toes. It wasn't that she was a bigot, it was that she remembered the oddly feminine voice from the first Dante's; it got on her nerves then, and it got on her nerves now.
Tossing her bag to the ground, she plopped her leather wrapped ass down beside it and started to rummage through its contents. “God, this food isn’t going to last long.” She cast aside the water and bread, and dug in again.
Her fingers found a hard plastic object, heavy, definitely bigger than her hand. Lifting it out of the bag, she held the object up in the moonlight, trying to make sense of the gun-shaped device. The source of the heaviness lay in the large square battery pack affixed to its base, and the roll of what appeared to be ammunition hanging from a long, dangling plastic chain. “Neat. Now if I had some wood, I’d be in business.”
She pulled a stripped scouter from the bag and strapped it around her forehead, the tiny greenish screen flipping on and calibrating. Its mechanical beeps roared over the distant crash of waves as it surveyed the area. A few blips mapped out on the display, some far, some really close.
Out there in the sea of dots, she wondered, where was everyone? Where was Bardock? She sure would feel a hell of a lot safer if he was around, hell, better awkward and safe than alone and vulnerable, right? Besides, he promised. Implied or not.
Sitting out here on her ass wasn’t finding him, so shoving her supplies back in the brown sack, she slung it over her shoulder and moved along. In the back of her head, the soft voices began. Remnants of old internal monologues, jumbled together in some kind of indiscernible tangle.
They were out there somewhere, some strong, some weak. Maybe he was out there, too. They all were waiting.
For her.
![[Image: visigjune08_v2.jpg]](http://storm.novahost.org/mysigs/visigjune08_v2.jpg)
Fuck you, Photobucket.