The Adventure of a Lifetime
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Rhianna Park

"Guitar?" Riley's eyes tracked to another girl sitting in the compartment. She was blonde, something Riley could barely make out on the dim lighting. Riley was by no means a detective, but something was beginning to click. A musician. Then...the boy in the cuffs. The boy who had offered to get him out of the cuffs. And then the extremely smart hooded girl - a detective.

"What can you all do?" Riley spoke up. "I mean, what would you all consider your primary skill."

6/17/2017 #61

Isla almost smiled under her hood, but then Isla Lockwood rarely smiles. Like she was thinking earlier, not a commonality but something that set them apart. They'd all been targeted for a reason, and it seems someone else had caught on. "I suppose you could call me a detective," she said. Well, she is technically a detective.

"Primary skill?" Colt asked, raising an eye brow. Just what were these two getting at?

"It's highly likely that we are targeted for possessing something unique to each of us that no one else has," Isla explained. "Our captor has probably taken great care in selecting each of us for a something we are very good at."

Colt took a moment to ponder this, wondering what her skill would be. She was good with a gun, but she wouldn't say she's the best. She wasn't even the best shooter in the gang let alone the whole world. She was a good fighter, but, again, not the best. Before she got too into this, she waved off the idea. "This must be a mistake. No, this whole thing is just crazy!" she protested.

6/17/2017 #62
The Optimal Oz

Ben was still pissed at all of this, especially since that kidnapper had left them, again. He would be sure to make him regret it next time. He was distracted by a girl who spoke that just woke up. She was sitting close to him. He turned to her with a look of disbelief. He was angry, tired, and drug induced nap had put a kink in his neck, not a good match.

"You guitar? Quick every body look around. Let's find the guitar, so we can play some koombaya, before we die." Another one of the girls had spoken up, and this time for asking what they were good at. He dropped back into his seat "Well, it use to be not getting kidnapped."

6/17/2017 #63

At the boy's angry criticism, Chelsea felt a tight heat flair up in her chest, somewhere just below her throat and above her heart. "Yes, my guitar... it's kind of how I was earning whatever living that was keeping me fed. Which, you know, is kind of essential to living. So I'm sure you might understand why that's what I'm worrying about. And besides, I was speaking to my self, numbnuts." Throughout her sentence, Chelsea's voice had lowered to a softer tone, which was what happened to her voice when she became angry. It became focused and quiet.

Although, as she spoke, she was also becoming aware she'd triggered some kind of realization in the other girl's mind. She could almost see the gears working in iher head. As the other captive began to ask whatever questions were running through her head, Chelsea narrowed her eyes in curiosity and gave her own answer, "Again, music. And, apparently, stimulating other's ideas and irritation?" She shrugged, only to pull her knees up to her chest and hug them to her. This situation was strange as it was, but the longer it went on, the worse it got, especially as her shortened temper had her realizing that perhaps she was more on edge than she'd originally thought. She had, afterall, called the boy a name, which she normally thought was quite childish.

6/17/2017 #64

This guy was insane. Undoubtedly, they had been kidnapped by someone unstable. Chloe sighed, and began running through any ideas of how to get out of the van but came up with nothing. Her head perked up a bit when she heard a girl mention a guitar. Someone else played too? If they weren't about to be murdered by a crazy man, she might've tried discussing that with her.

Chloe's head soon turned to pay attention to the girl from earlier, when she asked about what they all could do. Primary skill? Chloe internally cringed a bit. After seeing how they reacted to the boy in cuffs earlier, admitting to being a thief probably wouldn't go over too well.

"I don't see why it's your business to know?" Chloe scoffed, forming an annoyed look and crossing her arms. Of course though, they had a regular ol' Sherlock among them, who made Chloe's attempt at avoiding the question mute.

6/17/2017 #65
Soul the Avenger

Angel was tempted to still beat the guy who probably got him jumped in prison, and then had him kidnapped. But since he was explaining the seemingly fictitious story he called upon for an excuse. The thought that all of them possessed something unique to each of them that no one else has, was pleasing in thought. But in all reality, Angel still wasn't falling for it. And he decided that he would entertain it until he was betrayed.

"Well by the city of Detroit, as well as all of Michigan, along with Mexico and the Cartel. I'm one of the best mechanic around, along with incredible driving skills." Angel spake wiping the blood off of his hand onto the prison garb that he would hope he would be able to change out of if the story Luca was telling was true.

6/17/2017 #66

"Knowing everyone's talents is an important clue," Isla countered at Chole's attempt to dodge Riley's question. "It could help us piece together why we're all here, and bring us a step closer to devising a plan to get out of here," she explained, looking at the thief. "There's a boy in cuffs here, so you shouldn't be so adamant on not sharing what your abilities are," she insisted. Then again, that almost made her sound hypocritical, being someone who was wearing her hood up to conceal her face.

Colt chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment, contemplating this. "I'm not so bad at a couple of things. I can shoot pretty well, still I wouldn't be willing to say i'm something special for it. But if we're going along with what we do for a living," she began, going off something Chelsea had said earlier, "then I suppose my talent would be... bodyguard," she said, settling on that for now.

6/17/2017 #67
maria beee

Marcella sat beside Luca, one leg primly crossed over the other and attention solely on the smart phone in her hand where she tapped away on it. The only sound between them was her perfect, manicured, taupe colored nails hitting the small touch screen as she responded to emails for Luca. She didn't look up as she said, "I told you this would be a bad idea." Her voice was smooth, though clipped and filled with the regal, rolling Italian accent she carried. "But as usual," She picked her head up finally to look at Luca, loose curls falling from her bun and framing her face, "You never listen to me."

She tsked, "And what was your next plan of action?" Marcella asked, quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him. If he didn't have one- she had three ready to use should his first inevitably fail. But he had wanted to do things his way and dio mio, she should not have let him. Now all they had were a bunch of confused, perhaps frightened college students in the back of this van who thought he was crazy. Which, make no mistake, he was.

6/18/2017 #68
The Optimal Oz

Ben stood up from his seat angrily about to verbally assault the girl who was whining about her guitar, but he stopped himself. He took a deep breath to get a hold of his anger, and then spoke to the girl. "Well, I'll buy you a really nice guitar, AFTER this guy is done killing us." he said in a sarcastic tone. He was already getting annoyed with the people in this van. Their was the hooded girl that kept questioning everything. She might as well be a philosopher, and now they were trying to figure out what was special about them. "You want to know what's so special about me. I'm homeless. That is as special as I get." He said exasperatedly.

6/18/2017 #69

As the current source of Chelsea's agitation stood, apparently angrier than he'd previously been, the musician raised a brow. Honestly though, there was some amusement in her expression. If this boy was so easy to rile up, she was sure she'd probably be capable of getting him to kill her before their captor ever could. With a roll of her eyes and a defiant tone, she replied, "I actually doubt the man's intentions are to kill us. I know this is a drastic, frustrating, possibly dangerous situation, but I think you're overreacting and need to calm down. We won't be able to figure anything if we've all killed eachother by the time he returns. And I'm fairly certain you can replace your special homeless state with sarcasm, 'cause you're really not the only homeless one here." God, trying to be a voice of reason was exhausting and probably not even worth it, but she might as well try while she could speak... and then revert to her angrily honest, defensive stance right after.

'Nice goin' Chels, you're sure making a lot of friends, aren't you? And did you have to tell him about your situation?' Chelsea thought, have an inner dialogue with herself that she quickly silenced. She did realize she also needed to calm down, but being verbally attacked for her worry over her only source of money wasn't helping anything.

6/18/2017 #70
The Optimal Oz

Ben rolled his eyes at her "Great, your homeless, too. Fan-fucking-tastic." His anger was starting to boil up, but he was not actually angry at her or any of the others. This was just one of Ben's worse nightmares. Through his whole life, Ben has always tried to keep ultimate control. Especially n his magic tricks, where he knew everything that was going on, and he controlled it all. However, at this moment. He had no control of anything. That crazy guy was the only one that had any control. Ben was just a major control freak.

He started to pace the van, stepped over the legs, or dodging around the others, so as not to trip.

6/18/2017 #71
Rhianna Park

"It was a good plan!" Luca protested, though, in that moment, it didn't feel particularly genius. He could hear the kids behind him, arguing fiercely over him killing them. Pfft. He wished. No. He had to keep these brats alive. Especially if he wanted...well, no. He wasn't going to think about that. Luca cursed, and slid from the passenger's seat. The driver huffed in the seat above them. Marcella's question wasn't left unanswered by Luca.

He just needed to gauge something.

"I know, I know, Berthold," Luca grumbled, and marched to the back. He could still hear them arguing from within. Well. They weren't going to like what happened next.

Behind him were two large pillars. Torches were holstered in brackets, welded into the stone. They were medieval, flickering in the inky darkness. Nighttime. Why did it always have to be nighttime? Why couldn't these meetings be Sunday brunch, or tea? Luca liked tea. He could do tea - he'd even host the tea, hell! But noooo. It was always at night, on some island in the middle of Fucking Nowhere. Capitalization necessary.

"Berthold!" he cried, marching back to the cab.

Berthold grunted.

"Back them up, into the entrance," Luca instructed, his face illuminated in the headlights. The only way these kids would believe was if they saw it for themselves.

6/18/2017 #72

"Christ!" Nick finally snapped, tired of the argument going between Chelsea and Ben. If he was about to die, he did not want the last thing he heard to be an argument about a guitar or whatever the hell it was they were arguing about. He had tuned out from their argument but their voices were so damn annoying. He pounded on the door of the van, more irritated than panicked now. "I thought you were coming back with proof," he called to the guy who had kidnapped them. He had introduced himself earlier, but Nick had already forgotten. It had sounded Italian though.

It was then that the van lurched, and Nick fall back slightly. Light filtered in through the splintered window and he squinted through the glass. Were those...torches? What the hell was happening now.

6/18/2017 . Edited 6/18/2017 #73

"Maybe the proof isn't something he can simply carry back to this confinement with him," Isla suggested, wondering if whatever was behind the entrance was the answers they sought. "We should all remain clam," she added, backing up what Chelsea had stated earlier. "Bickering and freaking out won't get us anywhere good. We need to keep our wits about us. I highly doubt a man who went through the trouble of kidnapping us to bring us here plans on killing us. If he wanted us dead, then we'd already be dead," she insisted.

"If he wanted us dead, he would've killed us instead of kidnapping us. Unless his plan for world salvation is sacrificing us. And he's insane, so that could easily be a possibility," Colt countered.

"If we were meant to be sacrifices, i'm certain we would've been restrained and stripped of most if not all of our belongings. Missing shoes and guitars would have been the least of our worries. Besides, we would've been kept sedated the whole time and likely woken up without any way to contact each other least we escape," Isla said, shooting down Colt's theory of being sacrifices. "I think it's safe to say he does not plan on killing us himself."

6/18/2017 #74

Chelsea actually laughed at the boy's reaction, having actually expected something like that the moment her words had left her mouth. But all she did after laughing was shake her head and rest her head between her knees, trying to keep the scarred palms of her hands out of everyone's sight when she set them atop her head. She needed to get away from this heated environment with the panic fading into anger and the other people there being so quick to react to the slightest of irritating stimulation. Her mother had always said she'd been empathetic, and it was times like this where she couldn't help but wish she could disagree. Chelsea could swear she was feeling every emotion the others were feeling, and she wanted it to stop. She wanted to hide away in a dark room and let a few tears fall, or find her way to some corner on the street to earn money for her next meal... or, at the very least, she'd like to gain some of her self-control back before some other irritable inhabitant of the van pulled her into another argument.

But Chelsea didn't shut anything out, decided she wouldn't, preferring to know what was happening around her rather than choosing ignorance. This is the only reason she could pick out what the hoodied girl was saying, agreeing in a way with what Chelsea had said. She would have replied, said something back, but she didn't trust her words to come out calm or kind, so instead she hummed and nodded in agreement.

6/19/2017 #75
Rhianna Park

Riley couldn't tell you - no, couldn't explain to you - what were emotions were at the moment. Fear? Terror? Exhilaration? Bewilderment. She settled on bewilderment. Here she was, in the back of what seemed like prison transfer vehicle, with a various assortment of college students. Most of whom were American. Was this a normal American pastime? Kidnap college students? She wasn't so sure she was so enthralled with the idea of the USA anymore.

The van lurched to a halt.

Riley sighed in relief. Though that relief was certainly diminished at what she heard next. Chanting. Ominous, low chanting that began to grow steadily louder. Riley pressed her ear to the set of double doors.

Oh my God.

They were about to be sacrificed. That, or inducted into a cult. She didn't know which was worse, quite honestly.

6/19/2017 #76

"Is that... chanting? Are they chanting? There's people chanting," Colt said, backing herself away from the doors. "I knew it! We are going to be sacrifices," she insisted.

Isla let out a deep sigh, still having her doubts. "I don't think that's what's going on, so, please, calm down. We don't need everyone erupting in a panic."

"Well, i'm not just gonna stand here and wait to die," Colt snapped, holding up her fists. "If I do go down, i'm going down swinging," she said firmly. "There's no way i'm just going to let some wacko throw me into a fiery pit without taking a few people down with me."

"Can you see anything? Hear anything?" Isla asked Riley, noticing she was right by the doors. She chose to ignore Colt for now, instead focusing her energy on a more productive matter.

6/19/2017 #77

Claudio had remained silent for these past few minutes, absorbing everything around him. His eyes widened as he heard the ominous chanting outside the van doors.

"I can't make out how many woices," he said quietly. "Sewen? Eight? Howewer many, there's a lot... and they don't sound happy."

6/19/2017 #78
The Optimal Oz

Ben was to his feet, and standing beside Colt. All of his anger towards the others had disappeared the minute he heard the chanting. He cracked one of his knuckles, and nodded "Yeah, I'm with Punchy McPunch over here. If they want to sacrifice me like a chicken, then I am going to cluck them up." That pitiful pun was not even on purpose. A habit of Ben's was that when he was nervous, he just started talking

6/19/2017 #79

"Chanting. No yeah, that's totally okay! Obviously, they're just reciting their cake recipes!" Chloe replied sarcastically to the detective girl from earlier, starting to panic slightly more. This crazy man was either about to sacrifice them, or induct them into a cult, and she was seriously still sitting there and saying that they weren't going to die?

"I gotta agree with the nose breaker over there as well." Chloe said, referring to Colt. If they were going to die, she might as well try fighting back. She moved as far away from the door as she could, not wanting to be anywhere near it when it opened.

6/19/2017 . Edited 6/19/2017 #80

Claudio looked at Chloe, nodding in agreement as he kept one eye on the door.

"I don't know about you all, but vhen that door opens, I'm making a break for it. I don't know vhere, but anyvhere is better than this schoel."

6/19/2017 #81

"Oh my god," Cheslea muttered, eyes wide as she hugged herself into a somewhat tighter ball. But there was no trace of fear in her voice, her reaction wasn't to the voices, interesting as they were. Her eyes were wide in disbelief and her voice heavy with annoyance, "Would everyone just calm down?" She forced herself to let her legs down, attempting to reign in her irritation and replace her demeanor with a calm one. Really, she wanted to go on about how they weren't restrained, were not heavily sedated, still had their clothes on rather than the kind of 'sacrifice-ready' outfits. They hadn't been prepared in any way to be sacrificed. Rather, she took a deep breath, held it and released as she stretched out her limbs, joints popping and issuing satisfied groans from her. No chanting psychos or fiery torches would stop her from forming a little bubble between her mind and the mindset of the others.

Now, when she spoke, nearly every trace of stress was gone and she could only hope she might have some sort of effect on the others, "Hey you, uh..." Chelsea paused, trying to think up something to get the accented guy's attention, "You, bowl-cut." Not what she would have normally chosen, but... whatever. "Where're you from? Your accent's intriguing, and somewhat familiar."

6/20/2017 #82
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