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Oliver White

"I'm scared. I'm not going to pretend to be brave, because pretending won't do us any good."

0 · 502 views · located in Wisconsin

a character in “Being Blank”, as played by Scripter

Description

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We fear the thing we want the most.
- Robert Anthony




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ImageName
Oliver Miles White.

Nicknames/Aliases
Oli // Obviously just a shortened form of his given name. He finds it quite endearing and (Before the whole memory-loss situation) prefers to go by it.

Trees // The nickname given to him by the group (After formerly-mentioned situation) to identify by, making note of a large tattoo of a tree cuffing the inside of his left forearm.

Age
18.

Gender
Male.

Nationality
Caucasian/White.

Race
Human

Role
Male 3 // Trees.

Faceclaim
Francisco Lachowski





Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
– Dr. Seuss




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Hair color
Dark Brown.

Eye color
Tawny/Gold.

Height
6’3”
(Six Feet, Three Inches)

Weight
175 lbs.

Physical Description
To call Oliver a looker wouldn't be too far-fetched. Standing at a towering 6'3", you could say he looks down on a good majority of the population, in stature, at the very least. Even with his great height, Oliver doesn't always use it fully, more often than not slouching his shoulders and ducking his head down to hide his face beneath an unruly mess of chestnut-brown waves. His eye color, in compliment, is a warm gold, the color of sweet honey or a summer's mid-morning sunshine, and his features are all soft, rounded and curved to the point where there is no room for sharpness. His complexion is seemingly unmarked by any blemishes or scarring, save the rather massive Bonsai tree tattooed on the inside of his left forearm, which is quiet notable and is thought of as his defining physical characteristic.

Tending to play down his good-looks, in the hopes of never attracting unwanted attention, Oliver dresses very plainly. Always a solid-colored t-shirt and jeans, maybe a hoodie or beanie if he's feeling adventurous, but nothing more. No bright colors here, only muted shades of grey and navy to ward away the unpleasantly awkward conversation that is bound to happen if he is approached.





Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.
- Lao Tzu




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ImageSkills
    Fading || Is this even a skill? To be able to stand in a crowded room, and yet have no one notice your presence? An unfortunate skill, but a skill nonetheless.
    Accidental Ease-Dropping || Maybe it's not all bad being the quite type, because people tend to forget Oliver is there, and sometimes fess-up to some wickedly interesting things.
    Remembering || Oliver has an impeccable memory. It’s not perfect, he doesn’t memorize everything, but you can count on him to remember anything important.

Talent
    Piano || Oliver is an ace at playing the piano. He prefers to play soft lulls rather than anything loud and impressive, but anyone can tell he has incredible skill just from listening. If you ask, he’ll hum a bit to it, maybe whisper the words, but he is terrible embarrassed to do anything further.
    Reading People || His face is an open book for all to see, but did you know that Oliver can read you just as well? Don't try to hide anything or lie, because, more often than not, Oli already knows what it is.
    Soothing || Oliver has a knack for calming people down, for soothing them into a lull of relaxation, to an almost dreamlike dozing. Maybe it's the monotone drawl of his voice, or maybe it's his uniquely poetic way of describing the world, but it always seems to quell the foulest of moods without fail.






Silence is the most powerful scream.
– Unknown




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Likes
    Outdoors|| ”How can anyone not like the outside? Trees, and flowers, and birds… Isn’t it lovely?”
    Books || ”Novels are more comforting than people.”
    Cats || "Who wouldn't want to be a cat? They can disappear out of the blue, and no one bats an eye."
    Small Things || "They look so defenseless. I can't help but want to care for them."
    Winter || "The cold helps me get my head straight. My thoughts are crisp and clear when there isn't sunburns and sweat to worry about."
    Candies || ”I’m not a child, or anything like that, but sweets just make you feel good, you know?”
    Homecooked Meals || ”I really suck at cooking, but Instant Ramen only tastes so good for so long.”


Dislikes
    Soda || ”I just can’t bring myself to enjoy it. Sorry.”
    Hot Weather || ”What is there to like about humidity and sweating? No, thank you.”
    Frivolousness || ”If you aren’t going to commit and take it seriously, what’s the point?”
    ’Players’ || ”I don’t take kindly to heartbreakers. Hearts are something to cherish, not shatter.”
    Excessive Cursing || ”We get it, you’re upset, but there’s no need for that.”

Strengths
    Kindhearted || He's a teddy bear, this one. Oliver has an extreme soft-spot for anything sweet, cute, and small.
    Emotive || You never have to guess what he's thinking, because it is probably written all over his face.
    Calm || No bouncing-off-the-walls here. Only soft tones and soothing conversations. Ideal when having a bad day.
    Unnoticed || Flying below the radar, Oliver doesn't butt heads with many people. They tend to write him off easily as nothing to be concerned about.
Flaws
    Extreme Shyness || This one rather speaks for itself, but Oliver has an extreme shyness towards people, generally. Even when he trusts them wholly, or even if he’s known them forever, he becomes nervous and shaky when in the presence of them.
    Lip-Locked || Oliver will never speak his opinion out loud if others are already set on using someone else’s idea. He thinks, that by doing so, he will come across as rude or as a know-it-all, and become disliked.
    Attached || Oliver becomes attached to things and people very easily, and in doing so, has a very hard time letting go of them when it is needed.
    Staring || When others turn their gaze away, or are busy doing something, Oliver tends to stare, unknowingly. It can sometimes come across as strange or maybe even creepy, but he means no ill-intention by it. He just can't help it.
    Push-Over || Rather self-explanatory, but Oliver is weak to pleads. If you ask him sincerely enough, he will do almost anything you ask. {add more if they apply}

Habits
    Flinching || Oliver has the bad habit of flinching at almost everything; A sudden sound, a unexpected touch, or even a surprising statement.
    Doting || Or, rather, you could call it a ‘Big Brother Syndrome’. Oliver becomes emotionally attached to people fairly easily, and when he does, it’s blatantly obvious in his attentive or worried mannerisms.
    No Eye-Contact || Whether the conversation is extremely serious, or just everyday casual chit-chat, Oliver has a problem about not looking people in the eye. He will avert his gaze no matter the gravity of the situation.
    Fading Voice || While talking, Oliver has a bad habit of slowly lowering the volume of his voice throughout his statements when he feels unsure of what he's saying, continuing to do so until someone points it out or he eventually trails off into nothing mid-sentence.
    Overly Romanizing || When speaking, Oliver has the habit of describing things a bit wistfully, making everything sound like a piece out of a novel. Can come off a very cheesy at times.





I don't believe you have to be better than everybody else. I believe you have to be better than you ever thought you could be.
- Ken Venturi




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Personality
So, Oliver may not be your typical run-of-the-mill, boy next door candidate, that's for sure. His shining trait? Well, he's fairly shy… That might be soft-serving it a big too much… Correction: He’s terrified of people. You know the type, that kid who sticks to the walls with the shaky hands and the please-don’t-talk-to-me aura. Not that he doesn’t want to talk to you, he does, truly. However, he’s a nervous wreck and dreads the day that he embarrasses himself or, god forbid, makes someone dislike him. Go figure, right?

However, he’s not all bad. Oliver is the biggest teddy bear one could ever find. He’s compassionate and sweet, and will do absolutely everything in his power to make sure no one is upset, even if it makes him uncomfortable in the process. You could say he has a bit of a child’s mentality, finding comfort and warmth in things like sweets and animals, and has trouble letting material objects go. Usual, he will attach himself to one person emotionally, using them as his safety blanket, of sorts. He’ll hover near them, making himself feel more at ease, but won’t ever say a word about it. Not that he needs to, because it’s probably already written all over his face. Whether worried or elated, just one look and you can tell exactly what he’s thinking. Oliver is one guy that would definitely suck a poker.





It hurt because it mattered.
– John Green




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ImageHistory
Oliver grew up in a normal, American household. A place with a roof over his head, and a single parent to care for him, what more can one ask for? With only his mother to raise him, Oliver relied on her heavily and, as one would expect, they were very close. His father was never in the picture, for he had left long before Oliver’s memories began, but he had stories from his mother to paint a mental picture of the man whom fathered him. And, even with just those retellings from his mother, as they sat up late at night talking when neither of them could sleep, Oliver had never found anyone he hated more than the man she described. The details are unimportant, ancient history of years far before Oliver could toddle, but they still stained the image of his father beyond the point unconditional family love could save.

When he was six, back in primary school, Oliver was bullied mercilessly. He didn’t like the games the other boys played, the pranks they pulled on the girls, and the humor they all seemed to share. He preferred to play with the girls, whom found less amusement in trouble making, and more in talking quietly from the sidelines. For that, Oliver was ridiculed harshly, called names that six-year-olds truly should not know and shunned from his peers, even the ones he believed were his friends. After that, Oli refused to speak or interact with anyone besides his mother. He looked to be an empty shell, staring blankly ahead at all times, but would shake violently or burst into terrible sobs if forced to speak. His mother took him to multiple therapists and counselors, but still he made no progress for years to come. It was only when he reached the beginning of high school that any real emotion shone through the cracks. He had a few friends then, real friends, and they helped him start to speak and enjoy the company of others. Oliver was still shy, he always will be. His flinching and shaking and nervous demeanor had become characteristic, and you can never change who you are fully, but he was better. Expressive and bright.

When he was seventeen, his mother passed away from lung cancer. It was caught far too late, in the very last stages, and there was nothing that could have been done that would not cause her more pain. Oliver was crushed, devastated, and, if it had not been for his friends, he would have receded right back into that shell of a boy he used to be. Instead, at his friends’ suggestion at doing something to honor his mother, Oli got his tattoo of a bonsai tree (His mother’s favorite), with his mother’s name written in small, delicate cursive on one of the branches. It wasn’t much, but it was his promise. The tattoo acted as a contract to himself, that he would not fall into dark times again and would be there to pick up anyone who looked like they were about to fall.

Nowadays, he lives alone in a small flat in the more run-down part of town, living off the meager wages he gets working at the local 24-Hour convenience store, stocking shelves and selling cigarettes. He takes as many shifts as he can, but having to work around finishing his last year of high school, and trying to apply to every collage he can in the aspiration of getting his teaching degree, times are hard. In his exhaustion on the day in question, Oliver had taken to laying across a small bench outside the entrance of the high school, staring up at the sky and watching the peculiar dark storm clouds roll in. Then, everything went black.

So begins...

Oliver White's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captain Character Portrait: Lemon Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Quinn Abel (Mouse) Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman
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65 Fahrenheit | 18.3 Celsius
It's a rainy day in Wisconsin. Those who are found outside are likely to be soaking wet. On the calender it's marked as September 25th. All watches seemed to have stopped at the time of the storm, marking 1:58 PM. Though time keeps ticking, the clocks aren't.





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The repetitive green tile pattern of the hallways weren't comfortable on the eyes, nor the back. Her head was spinning, thoughts empty of any personal agendas. Quinn's eyes opened in the dark hallway of the school. Dark blue lockers to each far side of her - and a blank CD with the words "Modest Mouse" written on it. It was a strange feeling, being...blank. No memories of loved ones, no recollection of what had happened, just existence. Her stiff body sat up against the lockers before she willed her voice to call out.
"Hello?" she yelled, hoping that someone would hear her. In the darkness she sat, looking blankly at the CD, then looking to the ends of the halls for any signs of movement. While all personal memories may be gone, she still remembered everything else. How to brush her teeth and how to play a crappy game of chess were all things still there. As much as she searched her own brain, nothing appeared.
The next emotion to arise was panic. Where was she? Who was she? Those were questions that she had no answers for. Based on common knowledge she quickly deducted she was in some kind of school, a blind deaf monkey would know that. Looking down at her clothes, she hoped for some kind of epiphany of who she was. Purple studded shorts, teal vans, a Nirvana shirt, and various rings on her fingers did nothing to help her jog her memory. Searching her pockets she found a phone, which she assumed was hers. She didn't feel like a thief of any sort, and if she was - she was a well dressed one. The grunge Ariel phone case didn't help her at all either, and clicking the home button, she learned it was dead. Picking herself up off the ground she wobbled slightly.
Either I'm a well dressed thief, or hungover she thought, leaning against the locker for support. She grabbed the CD off the floor and held it in her hands.
CD? I don't even have a CD player on me. Am I an idiot? Her inner dialogue stopped when she saw two doors opposite to one another a few feet away from her. One door had a female sign on it, another a male. Locker room? Why would she be down by a locker room. She didn't feel toned and muscular like some sort of athlete.
"Is anyone around?" she yelled once again, hopefully not in vain before she slowly took steps towards the doors. Her dizzy body decided to give out on the girl before she reached the door, and she stumbled to the ground.
"God I hope I don't have any walking impairment" she mumbled before getting back to her feet, and leaning against those blue lockers once more.



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Character Portrait: Oliver White
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Oliver's eyes shot open suddenly, so fast that the world tipped precariously for just a moment before snapping painfully back into place at break-neck speeds. His eyes blurred as they tried to adjust to the transition, sending a small burst of pain to his temples. Then suddenly, something clicked in his head and he was reeling, his hands shooting out to grab at his collar, yanking at it, gasping for breath like air was going out of style. Oliver felt chilled to the core, shivering like he had been stuffed inside a meat locker and left to freeze, and the only thing filling his vision at the moment were the malevolent-looking clouds that hung in the sky. Oliver felt like he weighed four hundred pounds, being pressed down by his chest so hard that the metal wire-knit bench that he was laying on, proudly proclaiming 'Since 1975!' in ugly orange-on-blue lettering, was jamming itself into his back and shoulder blades painfully. But, that was no where near the worst of it.

His body felt awful, but his mind was... Blank.

Nothing? There was nothing at all? No matter how hard he tried, Oliver just kept drawing a blank. His name, his birth year, his home address. All of it was gone. He pushed himself upright as panic started to set in, no longer being able to lay still. Sheets of water splashed off of his clothes and onto the pavement, and small rivulets streamed into his eyes from his hair. He was drenched, that was for sure, the rain continuing to pound down on him relentlessly, and leaving him utterly confused. Still yanking at the collar of a waterlogged, plain grey t-shirt, Oliver was about four seconds away from hysteria.

Who was he?

Glancing down wildly at his attire in sudden urgency did nothing to jog his memory. Oliver was dressed without ornament, so nondescript it had to be criminal. With only a solid-colored t-shirt, a (Probably blue when dry.) hoodie, and a pair of worn-out jeans to his... Well, not his name, exactly. Oliver couldn't recall that at the moment, and that was what was really scaring him the most. Searching further, he found his pockets were practically empty, save a small pay-by-minute phone that didn't even work, and when he pulled off the back to check it, more water poured out. One mystery solved, but it wasn't really the one needing solving.

Okay... Okay, stay calm, that question can be held for later... But... Where was he? Why can't he remember?

The first one was a rather stupid question in hindsight. A very large, and very obvious sign painted the same god-awful colors as the bench sat not even ten paces from where he had been sitting. Through the sheets of rain that was coming down and some not-so-cleverly placed shrubbery, he couldn't make out the exact name, but there was definitely a generic school welcome sign. It proclaimed something along the lines of "Something High: Home of the Somethings!". But, as he glanced around, he couldn't see any students, or anyone else for that matter. Schools had people, didn't they? Kind of the point of schools. The only things he could see through the rain were the blurry color-splashes of the cars in the parking lot and some withering, waterlogged plants. The place looked deserted. Even the entrance to the school, right beside where he sat, shone no lights through it's grungy, front glass doors, and Oliver worried for a moment that they might be locked.

He pushed himself to his feet, half-jogging over to it, and grabbing at the handle. As he reached, his sleeve sagged slightly and he saw something on his arm out of the corner of his eye. Oliver jerked his hand back in surprise. He quickly swiped at it, thinking it must be a bug or a blade of grass, but it just wouldn't go away. On closer inspection, though, he felt like an idiot. The thing he saw being a rather large tattoo of a tree standing out boldly on his skin, and not a creepy-crawly. Oliver subtly looked over his shoulder, an impulse to check to see if anyone had saw his little blunder, before grabbing for the door handle again.

Surprisingly, it opened with relative ease, and he dragged himself inside the dry front hall. When in, he closed the door firmly behind himself, and all the urgency he felt before vanished in an instant. Oliver pressed his back to the wall, and slowly sunk to the floor. Dripping all over the tiles, he pushed sopping hair out of his face and pressed his palms into his eyes to try to quell the ache. Now that he was inside and out of the rain, his panic was slowly ebbing away but, in it's place, a small hollowness seeped in.

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Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White
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Finn's head shot up and his eyes followed. The rough pages of a book scraping against his face as it fell to his lap. The dark haired boy's breath came in short grasp as he laid a shaky hand over his chest and clutched his head. It felt as if someone had vacuumed out his mind leaving absolutely nothing in it but a sharp pain.

Wh-where am I? Who am I? The questions drifted lazily into Finn's head, slowly attracting more of his attention as it became painfully aware that he couldn't answer those questions. Panic began to claw at his chest, he couldn't even answer those simple questions? What had happened to him? Why had it happened?

Books, there were books everywhere, dusty still air filled Finn's nose as he regained his senses and became more aware of his surroundings. His back was beginning to feel sore from laying so heavily on the cheap wooden chair and his neck had a crook in it.

A library, I think I'm in a library. Finn nodded, it definitely was a safe assumption due to the amount of books and a sign by the librarians desk that read 'quiet please'. The panic began to subside a bit as he began to figure things out, but who am I? One very important question still remained?

Finn glanced down at his lap finding a book turned over on it's back. That's it, I feel like a page....a bank page.

Finn rubbed his head and picked up the book flipping it over.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Was he reading this? If so he had surely lost his page. A stack of books lay next to him on the table he was sitting at. Was I also reading these? He questioned, running his fingers along the spines. None of the books looked to be for reading enjoyment, only math, history and English books. The dark haired teen pushed away from the table and stood. Huckleberry Finn clutched tightly to his chest, it felt important for him to keep it.

A shiver ran down his spine as he finally noticed the eerie silence engulfing him. What if I'm the only remaining person alive? He thought beginning to make his way towards the library's exit.

Welp more pizza for me.

Was that a joke? If it was, it was a bad one. Finn pushed open the library door only to be greeted by a hallway, was he in a school?Finn looked over his shoulder, he was in a school library. Tentatively stepping into the hallway he immediately spotted a boy. Relief flooded his body at not being the only person alive, but a wave of fear immediately took its place as he stared at the stranger. He was sopping wet and sat with his back pressed against the wall. Finn clutched his book tighter to his chest.

"Hey." He finally called out his voice quiet but loud enough to reach the boy.

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Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White
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Oliver had been going over things in his head, trying to pull together some kind of information about himself. Or, really anything at all, for that matter. He had been hopelessly lost in thought when the voice called to him, making him flinch so hard it probably looked like the beginning of a seizure to any bystander. Oliver, seized with panic, didn't even dare to move for long moments. His imagination must be playing tricks on him, right? That had to be it, there hadn't been anyone else around, the place was practically a ghost town. But, the curiosity just became too much. The rain-soaked boy slowly lifted his head, dropping his hands into his lap, a wet mess of hair all in his eyes but he took no notice, looking up to the stranger at the end of the hall.

His eyes widened to the size of saucers, his face a mask of surprise as Oliver quickly scrambled to his feet, the deafeningly loud squeaking of his shoes on the linoleum making him wince. The stranger, or, more accurately, the boy, as Oliver was able to actually look at him for the first time, was at least a head or two shorter than himself. A shock of dark hair and bright pair of baby blues didn't go unnoticed as Oliver did a quick once-over. Something was clutched in the boy's arms, something small and rectangular in shape, but Oliver couldn't exactly make it out. Oliver didn't make any move to go any closer to the boy after he got up, a small bud of fear blooming in his chest, but he didn't making any move to run either. This was his chance. He needed to get some answers.

Clearing his throat quietly, giving far too much effort to trying to keep his voice from trembling pitifully, he called back, "Um... Hey. Do... Do you know... Where we are, perchance? Or, rather... Who you are?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Oliver felt unbelievably stupid, resisting the urge to immediately take back what he said and try to write it off as a joke. Of course this guy knows who he is. You're the only one having an identity crisis! On the inside, his inner monologue scolded him profoundly, but on the outside, he was only standing there like an idiot.

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Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White
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The soaked teen flinched as the words left Finn's mouth, causing Finn to take a step forward. Was this guy hurt, or had he just startled him? Finn wondered as he debated whether he should move closer to the wet stranger. He was beginning to think he was hurt when the boy didn't reply for a few moments, or make any acknowledgement that he heard him other than when he had flinched. Finally the boy looked up his wet hair falling into his eyes, giving him an innocent look that made the blue eyed book clutcher, let down his guard a bit. The stranger immediately stood though, a look of surprise plastered across his face, that now matched Finn's as he watched him stand.

He was tall, he was really tall, at least a good six inches taller than him. Finn gulped hoping the wet stranger before him wasn't hostile, because Finn knew if this ended up in a fight, he wouldn't stand a chance. For some reason he doubted that it would though, as he stared at the dark haired stranger at the end of the hall, he guessed the boys hair would be lighter if it wasn't wet.

The stranger cleared his throat and Finn did his best to look him properly in the eye from their distance.

"Um... Hey. Do... Do you know... Where we are, perchance? Or, rather... Who you are?" Finn's breath caught in his throat, this guy didn't know where he was either? What was going on?

Finn roughly raked a hand through his hair. "I think we're in a school. As for who I am, I'm frightened to say I can't answer that......" Finn trailed off and glanced over his shoulder at the library, he pointed to it. "I actually just woke up, in there and I couldn't remember anything. Maybe we took some really bad acid or something." He gave an awkward laugh at his horrible joke before he began walking towards the other teen deciding someone needed to make the first move, he sucked in a breath of air as he came to a stop in front of the tall stranger. He looked up at him, "I'm guessing you don't have much more knowledge than me on where we are or who you are if your asking me, but can you at least remember your name?" Finn asked shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

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Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman Character Portrait: Doc
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#, as written by Wispy
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"Do you think if I knew where we were or what was happening, that I would still be here? You need to screw your head on straight." She stood, looking at the lighter then stuffing it in her pocket. She sighed. This was the worst day ever. She didn't remember anything and had no more cigarettes left. Could the day get any worse? She walked down the hallway when she wasn't watching where she was going and they had apparently made it to the school entrance, where she again ran into a male. "Dammit. Why do I keep running into things?" She was so frustrated but then she turned to the other two males. "Who are you? Names?"

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Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman
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"I think we're in a school. As for who I am, I'm frightened to say I can't answer that..." Oliver nodded slowly. So he wasn't the only one going crazy. Thank god for that. He let his eyes trail slowly to where the blue-eyed boy was pointing, more to avoid the eye-contact that the teen was trying to initiate than Oliver actually wanting to see, but he couldn't deny that he was curious. "I actually just woke up, in there and I couldn't remember anything. Maybe we took some really bad acid or something." Oliver let out a breath of hesitant laughter, finding the stranger's laugh a touch funnier than the actual joke. However, he hesitated to take a step back as the other boy approached. The kid didn't seem bad to Oliver, he was just a bit too close for comfort.

Pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie up around around his elbows, feeling awkward suddenly, Oliver answered the stranger's last question sounding resigned, "I... No, I can't remember." He let out a sigh, rubbed at his tattoo, looking toward the floor as he was trying to think. He spoke slowly, like he was planning every word in advance, "I guess... We should think of something... Something to call ourselves, I mean--" Oliver was cut off abruptly as he got knocked off balance by a girl running directly into his side.

Oliver, regaining his composer, had the dignity to be embarrassed, and the reflex to apologize, "Sorry..." He muttered, despite the fact that she had been the one to smack into him, before flinching back as she started barked at them, "Who are you? Names?" Oliver shied away instinctively, taking refuge a few steps behind the smaller boy, slouching down as if he could actually be hidden despite the height difference.

"We... We were just saying that... That we don't remember..." Oliver fumbled his words, no longer being able to quell the slight tremor in his voice. He could deal with one stranger, if only barely, but two was enough to make his hands start to shake. Not to mention, this girl was giving off an intense no-nonsense, kick-your-teeth-in kind of vibe.

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Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman
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"I...No, I can't remember." The stranger heaved a sigh and rubbed his now visible tree tatto. Finn stared at it in amazement, it was pretty massive and well drawn. He had always thought tattoos were cool, but he didn't have the guts nor did he think he could pull of the look of a tattoo to get one.

"I guess... We should think of something... Something to call ourselves, I mean--" The wet teen spoke carefully at first, dragging his sentences out as if he was trying to look for the right things to say, that was until his sentence was cut short.

A girl now stood in front of them, as Tree-tattoo, as Finn was now calling his wet acquaintance until further notice, shied away from the girl. Tree-tattoo uttered a sorry, apologizing even though she had run into him. The girl stood looking at them with a fierce look in her eyes. " Who are you? Names?" She spoke firmly and with power. Finn felt the need to back up, feeling more than intimidated. Despite her being shorter than both him and Tree-tattoo, he felt like he wouldn't be able to win in a fight against her either.

The girls hair was cut short, Finn couldn't quite place his finger on the color of her hair, but it looked between the orange and brown family, sort of tawny. Hazel eyes met theirs.

"We... We were just saying that... That we don't remember..." Tree-tatto stuttered from behind Finn. Finn glanced over his shoulder at him sensing his overwhelming nervousness. Clutching his book tighter Finn made up his mind. Quickly he tried to direct the girls attention away from Tree-tattoo in attempt to ease his nerves. Hey the guy had laughed at one of his jokes it was the least he could do, since it felt like a rarity for someone to do that.

"Yeah it's weird, but we can't seem to remember any personal information." He gave the girl a shrug and placed a hand on his forehead. "What about you, do you know what your name is? Do you know what's going on?" He asked. Half of him hoping the girl knew what was happening and the other hoping she didnt so he wouldn't seem like an idiot.

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A deep scowl set in on the Tawney-Haired Girl's slight features, looking both annoyed and resigned at the answer Oliver had given for her questions. She looked as though she expected the fact that they knew nothing, but that they just confirmed it brought annoyance. "Yeah it's weird, but we can't seem to remember any personal information." The Blue-Eyed Boy stepped up, talking lead in the conversation where it had started to flat line. Oliver was thankful for that, since now the Tawney-Haired Girl's intense gaze was draw away from the taller male, "What about you, do you know what your name is? Do you know what's going on?"

The girl gave a small huff of spiteful laughter, jamming her hands into her pockets as she spoke with a chipped tone, "Nope, can't recall and not a clue. But," Out of her pocket, she produced what looked like a small block of metal. Oliver squinted slightly, trying to make out what it was, but his efforts were for naught as she easily presented it for both boys to see, flicking it open and letting the flame burn. "'Lighter' will do just fine for a name. And this is--" She glanced over her shoulder, looking back into the empty hall like she expected someone to be standing there. Lighter grumbled something inaudible under her breath, but it sounded like nothing more than an awful lot of nasty words.

'Lighter'? Oliver was baffled. He guessed he had to give the girl some credit, though, because neither Oliver nor the Blue-Eyed Boy had thought of calling themselves by inanimate objects yet. They would still be stuck in an endless loop of unanswerable questions if Lighter here hadn't walked in. The girl scared him, she looked like, even though she was much smaller, she could take on both of the boys in a fight without breaking a sweat, but Oliver had to give credit where credit was due. Taking some initiative, even though he was a shaky, stuttering mess, Oliver stepped out slightly from his refuge behind the shorter boy.

Oliver's gaze was positioned just above Lighter's left shoulder, trying to fake the appearance of eye contact, if only slightly, "Then... You can call me... Um..." His voice started to lower in volume at an alarming rate, to the point where he was barely talking above a whisper. Eyes flicked down to his arm, he finished his statement sounding more like he was asking than telling, "Call me... Trees?"

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((Double Post. Sorry.))

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The tawny haired girl in front of Finn gave a mean laugh, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

"Nope, can't recall and not a clue. But," Her voice lingered in the air as she presented a small gray box to them, her eyes glowing with pride as she flipped it open. A flame jumped out, licking at the air around it. 'Lighter' will do just fine for a name. And this is--" Lighter looked over her shoulder as if searching for a person. She muttered something under her breath.

Finn cautiously took a step back at the sudden appearance of fire. Lighter fit her, he thought watching her through cautious eyes. It was definitely genius for her to come up with something to call herself for the time being. He would have chosen fire as her name, thinking it fit her wild personality better. Well as far as he could tell. He had only known the girl for a couple of seconds.

"Then....You can call me....Um...." A soft voice came from Finn's side, causing him to turn to his tall acquaintance. "Call me....Trees?" Tree-tattoo or rather Trees finished.

"Trees hmmm...okay. What about you bookworm? Why are you carrying around a book anyway, I'm not quite sure now would be a good time to return your library book." Lighter laughed shoving her lighter back into her pocket.

Finn jumped at that, clutching his book tighter as his blue eyes met her hazel ones. "I...I...I don't now he stuttered." The demand in her voice shaking him up a bit.

"Well think of one." She barked. "It can't be that hard, I did it, he did it. Just pick something." She motioned to Trees as she spoke. Crossing her arms over her chest after she finished.

Finn bit the inside of his cheek. What could he call himself? He definitely didn't want bookworm, it sounded nerdy and he definitely wasn't, or at least he assumed he wasn't nerdy.

Glancing down at the book in his hands he read the title of the book.

The adventures of Huckleberry Finn

This was the book he had woken up with. Before all of this he was reading it. It was important to him.

Finn.

That would be his name. It was apart of something special to him and sounded like a normal name.

Finn grinned. "Finn, I want to be called Finn."

"Great job." Lighter said sarcastically, giving a single clap. "Now that we are all properly introduce, is it just me or are you hungry? I'm sure there's a cafeteria or something in this lousy school." With that she took off down the hall not bothering to look back.

Finn ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling the effects of hunger as his stomach growled. He glanced over at Trees, unsure if he should follow this tough girl. He looked back at her, watching as she began to get farther and farther away from them. Finn let out a sigh, shrugging at Trees before jogging to catch up with her.

She seemed to have some idea of what she was doing, I mean she had helped them figure out names.

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Character Portrait: Captain Character Portrait: Lemon Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Quinn Abel (Mouse) Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman Character Portrait: Doc Character Portrait: Charlotte Montgomery (Splat)
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After listening to introductions and the ideas of others, Mouse nodded. The dimness of the school was unsettling, and it made her want to leave the place. Despite her want to flee - people may be left in the building, and she had no recollection of the outside world at the moment. The other guy that had joined the group was being terribly quiet, she found it a bit unsettling. Everyone she had met were as confused as she was - she liked that. It sounded terrible in her head that she was happy that other people were feeling the same amount of confusion as she - but it was what was binding the people together.
"Sounds like a good plan Lemony Lemon" she said to the blonde with a small grin before kicking an empty water bottle on the cafeteria floor with her aqua colored vans.

She began walking back towards the cafeteria doors they once entered. As glad as she was to find people, she couldn't help but feel rather...crowded. Something about being alone seemed very appealing. It was hard not knowing anything about yourself - why certain behaviors were evident, why you did certain things. Those girls seemed to have the same issue. She could tell Captain was a Casanova - it was blatantly obvious. In fact - that is what she made his nickname.

Quinn walked through the locker filled halls with quiet steps. Her eyes averted to the ceilings of the school. Some lights flickered dimly. It was eerie. The place was in obvious need of a good electrician.
"Do any of you know what time it is?" she called behind her to whoever may be listening. The clocks were still stuck at the same damn time.

Walking she fell to the ground suddenly when her body collided with a different one. Awkwardly she fell on top of whoever the person was with a small squeek.
"Oh shi-I'm sorry" she quickly apologized, getting herself off of the poor boy. The boy had a book in his hand and had brown hair with blue eyes.
"I found more people" she called out to the others she had met earlier. Brushing herself off she offered a hand to the guy she tumbled over.
"The floors, terribly slippery" she joked lamely, flashing a small smile. A girl to the side seemed to snort.
"Or you're just a giant fool, tripping over themselves" she mumbled. Mouse could smell the faint scent of smoke on her. She wrinkled her nose slightly in disgust. There was another guy nearby as well. Doing a mental body count there were 4 guys and 4 girls. Coincidentally even.



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Character Portrait: Captain Character Portrait: Lemon Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Quinn Abel (Mouse) Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman Character Portrait: Doc Character Portrait: Charlotte Montgomery (Splat)
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Finn, as the Blue-Eyed Boy had newly dubbed himself, turned to look at Oliver as Lighter stomped away in search of food. The taller boy could see it in Finn's eyes that he was making a decision, and, with a resigned shrug, he seemed to have came to his conclusion. Finn hurried away after Lighter, leaving Oliver standing be himself in is sopping wet clothes and the light of the flickering florescents. Then, in thoughts churned out of sheer panic, Oliver came to a conclusion of his own. That conclusion being, despite the fact that the pair of odd strangers frightened him dearly, he really didn't want to be alone right now. Alone meant solitary confusion and unanswerable questions.

Oliver didn't have to run to catch up to the fleeting figures, a few long-legged strides at a moderate pace brought him just a few steps behind the pair. He kept himself at a reasonable distance back, finding it hard to kept proper pace with his shorter companions without feeling like he was walking in slow motion. Oliver had been lost in thought, finding himself staring at the backs of Finn and Lighter with interest, when suddenly Finn was knocked to the floor. The sound of two bodies smacking against the linoleum made him jump out of his skin, taking a half-step back and tensing his muscles, ready to bolt.

However, Oliver hesitated his flee. The person who smacked into Finn, a dark haired girl whom was now getting back to her feet, muttering apologies and offering her hand to Finn in assistance, didn't look like the threatening type at all. Lighter was by far more intimidating, by any stretch of the imagination. This girl, however, just looked normal (Dressed a bit strange, but normal. Then again, Oliver was no expert of that kind of thing), for all Oliver was concerned. As she helped Finn back to his feet, she called over her shoulder into the hall behind her, "I found more people!"

That was when more figures came into view and the panic in Oliver's chest spiked again.

Aside from the girl who had toppled Finn, Oliver counted that there were two more girls and two guys trailing behind. Oh god... Oliver cursed himself mentally for not hanging back at the entrance now. This was a lot of people. Too many people, actually. As they all started to clot together in the middle of the empty hall, Oliver found himself edging toward the lockers that lined the walls, hovering off to the side hesitantly. One the guys, an average sized boy wearing an outrageously colored jersey, was already trying to pick fights with sharp-tongued Lighter. The tension between the two as they exchanged glares could be cut with a knife, but quickly dissipated as the jersey-clad boy turned to the dark haired girl to ask if she was alright.

Standing a few steps away from them, a blonde girl began to try to mediate the situation, "Don't fight, please. It won't get us anywhere and honestly, in a group this small, do you really want enemies? If you went half and half friends vs enemies you'd only have 4 friends!" After a moment, she smiled, turning to Finn, Lighter, and Oliver, and waved, "I'm Lemon."

Mustering up some courage he had on very short supply, Oliver decided that being a wallflower was going to get him nowhere fast. Out of all the new people, he found the blonde girl, Lemon, to be the most welcoming and probably the easiest to approach. Picking his way slowly and carefully around the edge of the crowd, Oliver offered Lemon his hand, only slightly shaky, talking just above a whisper, "Nice to... Nice to meet you, Lemon." Oliver had his eyes trained on his shoes, and had no intention of raising them, "I'm... Well... I'm calling myself... I'm Trees." He managed to finished lamely.

God, he must have been a blast at parties before all of this.

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Character Portrait: Captain Character Portrait: Lemon Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Quinn Abel (Mouse) Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman Character Portrait: Doc Character Portrait: Charlotte Montgomery (Splat)
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Charlotte "Splat" Montgomery




Splat blindly followed Lemon out of the cafeteria, but kept shyly at a safe distance behind. She felt more comfortable this way; blending in, following someone else obediently...it seemed like she had done this a lot in her life so far. She glanced curiously ahead once they reached where Mouse was and saw that she and an unfamiliar boy were on the floor. She smiled in slight curiosity as they regained their bearings before looking to the new additions to the strangers in the building; a seriously intimidating looking girl with fiery red hair, a guy with a tree tattoo, and another guy that Splat stared at longer than she should've. Charlotte's cheeks flushed when she realized this and turned to look instead at the other members of the group.

She watched as a few introductions were made and stood politely and quietly at where she was, not having enough confidence to speak up and say who she had dubbed herself as. Charlotte was perfectly fine staying as invisible and out of the spotlight as possible, and fidgeted shyly with the bottom of her cardigan while the others went back and forth with each other. She glanced up every so often to follow the conversation and show interest, but the ever-growing group made her feel more uncomfortable with each additional member, seeing as she didn't know any of them. This made her uneasy of her surroundings and the fact that the clocks were all frozen certainly didn't help either.




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Character Portrait: Captain Character Portrait: Lemon Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Quinn Abel (Mouse) Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman Character Portrait: Doc Character Portrait: Charlotte Montgomery (Splat)
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Finn glanced over his shoulder at Trees, glad that the tall fellow had ended up coming with them. Finn wasn't quite sure how long he would be able to handle Lighters blunt and snarky remarks by himself. He gave the wet teen behind him an appreciate smile before turning back around. As they walked through the cold deserted hallways of the school, Finn noticed how the few clocks they came in contact with, weren't working. How weird.... Had time actually stopped or just the clocks? Had they been placed in some warp black hole or something? Everything about who they were, had been erased. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? A blessing or a curse?

Finn clutched his head as a headache began to resurface, thinking about anything before waking up in the library made his brain scream. Finn tried to shake the pain away as he shut his eyes beginning to concentrate on the things he knew for a fact. Concentrating so hard that he was completely unaware of the person in front of him. Well before he was on the ground.

Finn stared up into green eyes. "Oh shi-I'm sorry." The girl on top of him immediately stood up, glancing behind her as she spoke. "I found more people." Her eyes returned to his. "The floors, terribly slippery." She gave him a smile and extended her hand. Finn gave a short nod, "I knew it couldn't have just been my charm that made you fall into my arms." The blue eyed boy laughed awkwardly, returning the lame attempt at a joke and rubbing one of his arms that had been crushed between their bodies while he had tried to continue to hold his book.

"Or you're just a giant fool, tripping over themselves." Finn glanced over at Lighter who stood off to the side, he groaned inwardly feeling the need to apologize for her words as a male came stomping out of some door. It seemed like Lighter and the guy in the football jersey would definitely bump heads the way he stood up to her.

"You alright, love?" The dark haired male asked the girl, his caring tone and worried eyes, making Finn think the two were an item. "You okay?" The boy asked now addressing Finn, only getting a small nod in response.

Finn stared at the two out stretched hands. One from the girl who he had run into and one from the football player. Quickly tucking his book under his armpit he took both, hoisting himself up.

"Thanks." He nodded looking around, while on the ground he had missed quite a lot. A girl with golden blonde hair, named Lemon, Finn thought he caught while on the ground, stood by Trees introducing themselves.

It seemed like a lot of people now occupied the hallway, Finn noticed as his eyes passed over a girl with dark brown hair standing near the back. His eyes immediately returned to her, and he couldn't stop himself from staring. She was absolutely beautiful, her hazel eyes were shyly fixated on the ground and every so often, she would glance back up, but Finn could never seem to catch her gaze. Though he had no idea what he would do if he did catch it. Probably make an absolute fool of himself.

Finn turned back to the girl he had run into regrettably tearing his gaze from the shy girl in the corner.

"You wouldn't happen to know your names would you?" Finn asked doubtfully remembering that the blonde headed girl had called herself Lemon.

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Rose tried to pin everyone down into a group as they talked, her eyes darting around. It seemed a lot of them were shy, and the rest were outrageously outgoing. Captain was just that- probably a jock, probably popular. But he was the only one Rose could really see as being surrounded by friends all the time. Maybe Mouse was, too, but it was harder to see her in that spot. Doc- maybe, maybe not. Splat was certainly a shy one, but she was nice enough and she seemed like a good kind of person.

One of the new boys had recognized that, obviously, as he was looking at her- though he didn't seem to be planning on speaking with her. Still, Rose was glad of that- Splat was off to the side of the group, alone, and Rose didn't want her to be left out, and if the new boy thought she was good for a conversation he would speak with her, eventually. Rose wondered if life was easier when everyone had their place- she wondered if people stayed in them. As far as Rose knew, she could have hated some of these people, planned her day around never talking or seeing them. One could have been her best friend, and now she knew nothing. It was an odd sort of feeling, like one of those dreams that feels so real when you wake up you almost can't believe it.

"Nice to... Nice to meet you, Lemon." Rose stopped watching the group around her and turned towards the whisper, which Rose almost thought she had thought up on her own. The man with the tattoo was looking at his feet in front of her, and Rose smiled at him, though it felt fake and she was glad he didn't see it. Rose wondered if she'd often had a fake smile on her face before she forgot, and that's why it came so easily to her. "I'm... Well... I'm calling myself... I'm Trees." Trees finished off, though he never once raised his eyes from his shoes.

"Hi, Trees. I guess if you're going by that you don't know your real name either, then?" Rose said, catching her lip between her teeth when she was done. It felt off to her, talking with someone personally instead of as a group. She wondered why- she didn't seem shy, as she didn't mind the talking part of it- rather she didn't feel like she was worthy of talking to Trees- or anyone else for that matter. Like she was bad and she didn't want to corrupt them.

"If it makes any difference you don't look like you'd have a bad name, in any case. My real name is probably something downright awful," Rose joked, wondering what sort of name she had. She really hoped it wasn't something too bad- something she wouldn't mind introducing herself with. She also wondered if it was something very girlish or something more neutral, or if before many people had known it. Rose suddenly felt unlike herself, like she was occupying a body that didn't belong to her.

"This is the ultimate existential crisis," she said, mostly to herself.

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Character Portrait: Captain Character Portrait: Lemon Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Quinn Abel (Mouse) Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman Character Portrait: Doc Character Portrait: Charlotte Montgomery (Splat)
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"Okay slow down Casanova, I'm not your love" she laughed slightly before awkwardly waving to the the group of people they had met. She looked as the people introduced themselves, the girl that had called her a fool spoke up as well.
"Lighter" she said with a sigh, making Mouse raise her brow. She patted herself off and smiled at boy she fell on.
[color=#4A2C46]"It could have been the charm. You defiantly radiate girl magnet"
she humored, patting Captain on the shoulder.
"Chill out, I have the strangest feeling I've been called worse than a fool" she said, her eyes darting to give Lighter a annoyed glare. To the man that named himself Trees she questioned how he got his name. Tree humping possibly. She shook the thought. At least her personality remained in tact despite her lost memories.

Mouse smiled over at Lemon about the name comment. With the realization none of these people probably had their memories either - or knew there names, Mouse was a bit more reassured.
"I swear if my name is Agnes or Eleanor, I'm going to jump off the roof of the school" Mouse sighed, crossing her arms across her chest. The Nirvana logo was now covered, but she still had the Modest Mouse C.D. Faintly she heard the sound of rainfall echoing throughout the hallways. Was it raining? It would explained why one of them seemed a bit...wet.

She ran fingers through her dark hair and desperately wished for answers. She didn't feel like a religious person but they all needed a prayer at this point. A needing of being alone crept into Quinn. People felt like a drain on her, though she was the jokester witty tongued girl, she felt as if that wasn't the whole of her being. Parts of her felt dark and missing. It was a strange feeling to say the least. Not knowing who you are, where your from, your mom or dads name, what kind of life is that.

"I'm guessing there are no more people around, and that outside it's pouring" she thought aloud, looking over each of the people critically. Trees was a shy one, it was plain as day. The boy she bumped into seemed to be witty tongued like herself, but she got the vibe that he much rather be alone somewhere. Lighter - well she was just her. A spitfire. Splat looked to be the artsy creative shy type from what she judged so far, and Lemon looked to be a bit of a moral compass.




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Character Portrait: Captain Character Portrait: Lemon Character Portrait: Anders Greyson Character Portrait: Oliver White Character Portrait: Quinn Abel (Mouse) Character Portrait: Hazel Rose Ackerman Character Portrait: Doc Character Portrait: Charlotte Montgomery (Splat)
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Charlotte "Splat" Montgomery




Charlotte listened intently as the gorgeous new stranger asked who everyone was, turning towards Lemon. She sighed a small sigh of relief and hugged herself more tightly, wondering about the strange sound resounding above them.

"I swear if my name is Agnes or Eleanor, I'm going to jump off the roof of the school," Mouse had sighed as she crossed her arms across her chest. Splat smiled in agreement, noticing the CD in her hands and the probable reason for the girl's name. She watched as the girl ran her fingers through her hair and looked around in thought, as if trying to figure everything out. Each member in the group had their own ways of trying to decipher what had happened to all of them, and it was interesting to Charlotte to see how each of them showed and voiced their process. Watching people was captivating to her, it was interacting with them that she seemed to have the biggest struggle with.

"I'm guessing there are no more people around, and that outside it's pouring," Mouse went on aloud before looking at each and every member of the group. When her eyes went to Splat, she met her gaze shyly, glad there were more leader-type members in the group than she.

"This is probably really stupid to suggest, but should we go look? Outside, I mean. There might be other places with food or better shelter..." Charlotte rambled and then trailed off. Her voice had started strong and clear but by the end of her sentence was barely above a whisper. Wow, she was terrible at this.