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Brat Camp: Turn-About Ranch

Utah

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a part of Brat Camp: Turn-About Ranch, by tornadofan2.

None

tornadofan2 holds sovereignty over Utah, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

523 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://wiki.fornits.com/index.php?title=turn-about_ranch http://www.bratcamps.com/turnabout.asp

Setting

Default Location for Brat Camp: Turn-About Ranch
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Utah

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Minimap

Utah is a part of Brat Camp: Turn-About Ranch.

8 Characters Here

Jack Jackson [11] ...well, it's better than fuckin' jail. Kinda. Wait, what's that about a goddamn horse?
Baby Stewart [10] "You cannot change those who do not wish to do so."
Harlem Faye [10] "You want to know what's wrong with me? People like you".
Serenity Calvert [9] "Horses? Pah! You gotta be kiddin' me".
Mike Stinster [9] ''Why should I change my behavior?''
Alison Keegan [8] "If I did nothing wrong, I wouldn't do anything."
Gage Rogers [8] "I was perfectly content with my life, I don't see why I have to change."
Matvei Markovich [7] "Oh dear, horses? I never was fond of them."

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Character Portrait: Jack Jackson Character Portrait: Baby Stewart Character Portrait: Serenity Calvert Character Portrait: Harlem Faye
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Harlem felt somewhat relieved when the guy called 'Brandy' entered the picture. Well, at least something was about to happen now, and that was a lot better then sitting around with this lot. His feeling off relief subsided after the man had finished speaking, however, and the feeling was replaced with anger.
Yeah, yeah, he didn't actually think they'd be allowed to smoke or drink here, but man, that didn't stop him from craving a cigarette so bad it hurt. The fact it wasn't, by far, his only intense craving made it a hell of a lot more difficult to bare. His didn't currently have any dye in his hair, so that wasn't a problem, but his nose ring would have to go and he dreaded the idea of having it pierced again. He'd had other piercings before, sure, but none had been as difficult to go through as the nose piercing, which he'd had done twice already it the past. It would almost certainly close over. He was glad his only other body decoration at the moment was his tattoo, and they couldn't very well remove that now, could they? He felt sympathy for the scene chick as he watched her remove her large quantity of piercings. She was going to lose a lot of metal.
He agreed with the chick who'd asked about what happened to the jewelry. The pendant around his neck, a pentagram filled with intricate symbols he didn't understand, was a ward against people hiding their true nature. He wasn't even sure if it worked, but he was quite fond of it regardless and would hate to lose it. He wasn't going to take it off until he was sure he would be getting it back.
It would turn out he was right about this place being hardcore. The food, bedding and level of freedom wasn't much to be hopeful about. No swearing? Not that he had a particularly crude mouth, but cussing was kind of habit for him and he was already being forced to break enough habits as it was. Not talking he could do. He wanted to vocalize as little as possible as it was, so that wasn't going to be a real issue. But really, no swearing? He doubted he could even stick to that rule. How could someone automatically rephrase their entire vocabulary just like that?
He didn't even get the entire purpose of this ranch place anyway. What, they thought they cold shape his entire character and change him from the inside out? Fuck that. He wasn't planning on being anything other then what he was, good or bad. Though, he imagined it wouldn't be that difficult to pretend; just follow rules, keep quiet and do what he was told. Then he could leave this place.
Maybe it was good he was being forced to kick the smack. He'd seen several of his friends destroyed by it's beautiful temptation. One chick he knew was out selling her body to afford her fix and he couldn't say that was a good thing. One of his mates had told him that heroin makes you content with the way things are, and that's the only reason it was bad. So yeah, maybe he was going down the wrong path and this was a good thing.
Nah, fuck that. He'd just about kill for a hit right now.
Harlem had to laugh at the butch chick claiming to be religious, and Buddhist at that? Yeah, sure. That was a joke and a half. He hid his laughter against the back of his hand, unsure if laughing was against the rules. The less trouble he got into, the sooner he could leave.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alison Keegan Character Portrait: Matvei Markovich Character Portrait: Jack Jackson Character Portrait: Baby Stewart Character Portrait: Mike Stinster Character Portrait: Gage Rogers Character Portrait: Serenity Calvert
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Alison Keegan

Just when things seemed to be not that bad, the muscular woman blew up. Not literally, that would have been cool, though.
As if Alison wasn't already completely irritated, the yells coming from this very.. burly girl wormed their way into her ears, resulting in a mild headache. Nothing she couldn't handle, but still annoying. Then they all started complaining - maybe they had just realized that they would have to spend a month, maybe more with these people. Allie was just starting to realize it, too.

People started to settle down slightly when an old man walked in, and Allie immediately decided he was perverted, for no other reason than the fact he worked at this shit hole. He clapped like a seal to get their attention as he began, ''Right, boys and girls, I am Brandy, and I shall explain the rules and make sure you'll follow them. Within a few minutes, you'll be stripped from every juwelry, piercings included. We'll wash your hair and bring it back to its natural colour. If you don't agree on it and won't remove them, it will have consequences. From tomorrow on, you'll be ordered to stay in a stone circle, make your own breakfast and dinner, above your self-made fire. You may not talked unless you are asked something, and you may not leave the stone circle unless asked to. But tonight, you may just sleep. We have no mattresses, so you'll be handed a blanket and that's all you'll have. I don't want to hear any complaining, swearing, there will be no drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes. Again, no talking unless asked to from tomorrow on."

Her piercings had to go? Well, now, Brandy, it seemed that they had stumbled along a little problem there. Already, without hearing the rest, she knew she was going to be pissed with whatever the rest of his speech was. Now what was he saying, a fucking stone circle? What are they - actually, no animal lives in a stone circle. Make food, yadayadayada.. wait, she couldn't make a fire. I guess she'd just starve herself then. Then a blanket, well it was an upgrade from this little 'hut.' Then there was the no talking, complaining or swearing.. pssht, yeah right. Alcohol and smoking, none of that bothered her.

"Now, if I call your name, you will follow me and remove every jewelry and anything that can harm me, or one of the staff.''
As soon as her name was called, Alison stood up and walked over to the old guy.
"No hair color, and I can't take out my earrings, Mr.. uh.. Brandy. If I do they'll get infected. It's not pretty," she shrugged, in a whole 'It's not my fault or my problem' kind of way before continuing. "Oh, and here," she handed him the cheap ring she had bought before she arrived here, and then slipped off the necklace her mother had given her as a going away present. She didn't really give a damn about either of those.

She threw them on the ground at her feet. "I know out here you've been living off horse shit for your whole lives or whatever, but I don't know how to make a fire," she added sharply. "We weren't all raised in the wild you know, we're not animals." She rolled her eyes, before turning around.

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As Brandy watched the kids, he asked every single one of them to remove the piercings. ''You'll get them back when you have finished this camp.'' When Alison came however, a small problem raised. She didn't want to take out her earrings, and started complaining. Brandy grabbed her arm and dragged her to the entrance.

''Face that way, to the desert for 10 minutes. No turning around, talking or complaining. When I come back, I want your earrings removed! If you haven't, there will be consequences resulting into an extra day in the stone circle.'' Brandy left her there and continued to strip the others from their piercings and jewelry.

Jack Jackson also seemed to have a problem. ''Give it to me and all of your piercings too, no matter where they are. If you don't, you will get a day more in the stone circle.''




Mike and the rest who hadn't needed to remove anything or get their hair dyed to normal colour because it was already natural, were taken to their room, given a blanket and told to go and sleep.

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Serenity huffed as her name was called. She walked over to Brandy slowly handed him the bracelet. She knew she would get it back, but she still worried nonetheless. "Take care of it" She muttered. She was the escorted to her room. A loud snort burst out of her nose as they shoved the blanket in her arms and directed her to her bed. "What? No bedtime story?" Serenity asked. The guy shook his head and walked off. "Pfft".

With a small chuckle, Serenity sat down on her cold, wooden bed and sighed. She could tell it wouldn't be fun to sleep here. It made her think of her old bed, one with an actual matress and pillow. The warmth of her bedroom was unbelievable, and the view from her low down window was just icing ontop of the cake. However, it wasn't the same here.

She flopped onto her back and pulled the blanket over her body, shuddering at how cold it was. 'The sooner I go to sleep, the sooner I can wake up and get this unecessary crap out of the way' She thought, closing her eyes as she let her body relax a little more.

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Character Portrait: Alison Keegan Character Portrait: Baby Stewart
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Baby had continued to shed herself of the four earrings she had after extracting her other favored gauge. She was only complying following the reassurance of being able to receive them back. She was lifting her shirt to eliminate her body of her belly button ring when her head raised to watch Alison bicker about her ears. Aw, poor poor her. Her ears might get red and irritated. The blonde shook her head and scoffed. She had no idea what an infection was. Baby had once pierced her tongue when she was thirteen and had stupidly smoked a cigarette which had really done her in. She couldn't eat without crying. Her tongue had turned green. It was a really bad time. Pah! She had no idea the pain that a piercing could really cause.
Her foul response had gotten her punishment. She could over hear Brandy's command of being forced to stare into the desert. It would not have been very bad if it were not for the blazing heat that radiated from the sand and burned down harshly from the burning Sun.
She felt bad for her now, but her sincerity quickly vanished when her feelings were erased by him stepping back into the room and call her up.
She had just taken off her last piercing and went to unclasp the diamond necklace her oldest brother that had passed away had gifted her with before he had died while being over seas. She almost let herself go for a moment but restrained herself from shedding a single tear and letting anyone call her weak for something they didn't know.
She handed him all of the jewelry that she had collected from herself and let it fall into his hand without a word from her mouth.
He called in another male and he took her away from the group and led her into a separate room. He handed her a blanket and shut the door, a click following afterwards.
Really? She surely was not going to be attempting any escape.
She examined the bed and decided against that. The floor looked just as inviting as the wooden bed. It was also colder so it would be comforting.
She lay down and rested on her back, pulling the blanket only up to her waist. She was thankful for how long and thick her hair was. She pulled it up and lay her head on it. It was at least a little better than nothing at all. Before she knew it, she found her eyelids feeling heavier and she was fast asleep in minutes.

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Gage let out an elongated sigh and slowly stood up, walking over to this man with the crazy-ass name. Gage removed his hands from his pockets and slowly removed each piercing, trying to prolong it as much as he could to bug the man who called himself Brandy.

"So, did you Mom name you Brandy?" he asked, pulling out the tongue piercing and purposely talking almost inaudibly to the man. As he spoke, a drop of spit flew at Brandy and landed on his cheek. Gage smiled subtly. "Sorry." He held his hand out with the saliva-covered tongue piercing (he made sure it was like that on purpose), his eyebrow piercing, and his ear piercings. "The right ear one might have some puss on it and blood...it got a bit infected before I came here." With that, he gave the man a broad smile and turned on his heel to walk off.

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Character Portrait: Alison Keegan
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Alison Keegan

This oldie grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the entrance.
"What the fuck? I'm not an animal, aren't you supposed to be promoting the opposite of violence?" She could tell she was getting angry, and would probably go all violent fury shit in a minute. She slapped his arm away and rubbed her arm, glaring at him.
''Face that way, to the desert for 10 minutes. No turning around, talking or complaining. When I come back, I want your earrings removed! If you haven't, there will be consequences resulting into an extra day in the stone circle.'
"What's this whole stone circle thing about, anyway, huh?" she asked, with an eye roll, before muttering, "Gladly," under her breath and striding out of the door. She slammed the door behind her, and immediately realized why this was punishment. Being from Ireland, where temperatures over 20 degrees Celsius were rare, this heat was practically unbearable. The only reason she kept the jacket on was to stop her shoulders from burning to a crisp.

She took out her earrings immediately, they weren't worth it, anyway. Besides, that wasn't the piercing she had wanted to keep. The piercing she wanted to keep on was the one on her stomach, her belly button to be precise, which was hidden under the ugly tank she was wearing. She kept walking, slipping her earrings into her jacket pocket and not looking back. If he wanted her to turn around he could bloody well tell her, instead of all this 'ten minutes precisely' shit.

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Brady had enough of the stubborn teenagers. He grabbed Gage's arm and dragged him along too to outside and put him in the stone circle. ''No talking, no lying down, no talking.'' Brady left and went to Alison. He handled her off and made sure she got to the bedroom. He handled off the others too, including Gage, and made sure they were all brought to the bedroom they shared. One for the boys, one for the girls. Once they were gathered in their room, he closed the door and locked it. There were no windows, so no escape.

~~~

Mike laid down on the wooden bed without mattress and pulled the blanket half over himself before he fell asleep.

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Gage clenched his jaw as Brady grabbed his arm. He fought for a bit and even felt tempted to punch the man. Reluctantly, he sat down like a good boy and rolled his eyes. Once Brady came back for him, he stalked to the room and jumped a bit as the door was slammed shut.

"Great...now I really feel like a prisoner," he remarked. He flopped down on a bed and stared at the ceiling.

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Jesus, this place wasn't just a fuckin' prison, it was a prison run by a senile old fuck. Hell, she wasn't makin' a practice of listenin' to what everyone else was sayin' to the dude, but even Jack Jackson knew when people were full'a shit, and this here Brandy fucker fell into that category so squarely she was willin' to bet if she cut him from his throat down to his ass there'd be no entrails and a pile'a shit would spill out. Not just 'cause he wanted to take her nenju beads (what kind of cold stone livin' piece'a shit takes away a Buddhist's beads, I ask the coldest and most heartless of you mortal beings!) but 'cause'a the way he said it. The way he said it, you'da thought Jack couldn't lift him over her head and then crack his skull open on the floor beneath their feet, and goddamn did she wanna do it. Fucker deserved it, that much was for sure. Nobody took that kinda tone with Jack Jackson. Nobody took what was hers, and nobody sure as hell threatened to take her fuckin' piercings. Y'know, the ones she didn't have, but-- ah fuck, it was the principle of the thing. Nobody talked to her like that.

Oh for fuck's sake, do it, reach on out and grab him by the throat and break the shithead. The guards'll get at us but not before we teach this asshat a lesson in who's the bigger fish of us two. Send this worthless shitstick back to the nursing home where he belongs. Who gives a fuck about being able to live legally? This ain't Scotland no more. Nobody knows us here. We made it on the run back home, we get outta here, we'll never be seen again. Make a break for it. Hurt the old bitch. Run-- attack-- kill--

Jack's fingers twitched. It was feeding her all these different, conflicting, contradictory suggestions, but the one that stood out the most was the impulse to hurt the old fuck. Hurt him for talking down to her when she stood damn near a foot higher than he did. For taking what was hers when she could snatch whatever he valued right out of him. She just... wanted to make him hurt. Punish him. Teach him a lesson-- that nobody spoke to her like that, and those who did, got fuckin' beaten down. That was the rule of life, eh? Don't try and fuck with people stronger and harder than you, or you'd get burned to a crisp. Brandy here had apparently missed school for that lesson. Brandy here was about to be sent back to school, and... okay, so that metaphor had sounded a little more threatening in Jack's head. Point was, beat him down, make him hurt, make him sorry, make him understand you are the superior being here. Jack was starting to feel like it was talking sense.

But she did no such thing. Because some chick had come up sayin' that if she took her piercin's out, she'd end up with an infection, and that was about where the 'senile old fuck full'a shit' bit came in. 'cause the fucker heard that, then grabbed the chick by the arm, dragged her off, and then started yellin' at her to take the things out.

That was just about when and where Jack made her decision-- a hard one, to be sure, but like all hard decision Jack had ever faced in life, she deliberated over it for about half a second before she made up her mind. Brandy returned to Jack, her expression replaced with a strange, almost impassive general lack of an expression.

"You really think this system'a yours works?" she mused aloud, taking hold of the nenju beads. "That this'll do jack shit to help anybody? You really think that, or you actin' out some kinda power fantasy here? Whatever it is, though, I'll play along..." She tore the necklace of beads off, the small wooden spheres scattering to the ground, and she held the string that had held them together out to Brandy. "'cause I wanna be here to see it backfire in a big way. Right on you."

Goddammit what in the fuck are we doin'? Can't we just go along with it and shut the fuck up and not take any chances and-- this is our only chance! If we fuck this up, we get sent back to jail in goddamn Glasgow. Don't we ever think?

Ha, like hell, served that son of a bitch up a nice hot plate of kiss my ass with a steamin' side'a fuck off and die! Worst case scenario, we end up sittin' 'round the dumb fuckin' stone circle again, big motherfucking deal.

Damn that felt fuckin' good-- hell, shoulda finished it off with a nice left hook to his wrinkly ass of a face, just in case the senile fucker didn't have his hearin' aids in and didn't catch the drift!

There's a great fuckin' plan-- looks like we got Niels goddamn Bohr callin' the shots, eh? Can't think'a nobody else coulda thought'a somethin' as genius as that, truly. Punch the bastard, buy yerself a free goddamn ticket back to the Gorbals, spend the next five, ten years in the chophouse-- Napoleon Bona-fuckin-parte couldn't'a come up with something that ingenious.

Considerin' that fuckhead invaded goddamn Russia in the middle of winter, that sounds pretty damn fai--

Jesus christ, what am I on about, I-- shut the--. Jack pressed a hand to her forehead-- just about slapped a hand to her forehead, really, getting sick with.... well, herself. Fuckin' A, she just hated this. The necessity of it. It wasn't her-- goddamn fault how she'd tur-- how everything had ended up. There were plenty people who deserved to be here for why she'd ended up on the run and she wasn't fucking one of them. Er, as in, she wasn't among them. Not to say she was not engaging in sexual intercourse with one of them. Which was to say, she wasn't, not to say she was, she very obviously wasn't. So very obviously it didn't even need to be said. The very thought made her kinda sick. She'd been goin' somewhere with this line of tho-- wait, no she hadn't. To the sleeping place! she decided, and then nearly ran into a wall before she finally figured out where in the hell she was supposed to be goin' and went that-a-ways.

Alas-- it would be only the harbinger of more bad news. You gotta be kiddin' me. Segregated bedrooms... and I gotta sleep with the fuckin' chicks? Fuckin' great. Why, it's my lifelong dream, to sleep in the presence of a bunch'a bickering, drama-obsessed, inane teenage girls. God forbid, y'know, I get my own goddamn room or some shit... then again, what in the hell led me to actually think that'd happen? Jack marched over to her bed irascibly, willing herself to forget that anyone existed around her. But their presences were there, and undeniable. It felt like a pressure from without-- the presence of other people, pressing down on her like an oppressive heat, an unshakable force that bore down upon her no matter how much she tried to pretend she was alone there. Goddamn, she hated that feeling. It made her want to rage and unloose the immense discomfort it inflicted upon her in the form of some kind of physical violence-- that most effective of therapies.

But it seemed that would have to wait. Preferably, when there wasn't anybody who could report her and fuck everything up for her. 'til then, she'd have to tolerate it-- it'd be tough, without a doubt, but fuck it, she could do it. Had to do it. And anyway, looking on the bright side (it was a new tactic she'd recently taken up trying out, about two seconds ago); I get a blanket. That's some cool shit, eh? She lifted the flimsy article-- though hell, for all she cared it coulda been made'a thick wool-- and slowly sank down onto the bed. It creaked under her, but held its place. "Probably collapse int'a pile soon's I fall asleep," she figured, but fuck it, she could sleep on the floor if she had to. Either way, she didn't figure she'd be getting much sleep, if any...

Not five minutes later, Jack was snoring like a sailor. Very, very literally.

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Character Portrait: Matvei Markovich
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#, as written by Leon21
Matvei Markovich


"You've got to be kidding me!" Matvei stared at Brandy in absolute disgust. What was the man thinking?! "You are not touching my hair! Do you have any clue how hard it is to get it to this colour?!" It actually wasn't that hard for Matvei to keep his hair at its light white-blonde colour, considering his hair was naturally a fairly pale blonde, and he only needed a bit of bleach and toner to make it the perfect shade, but since when would Matvei pass up a chance to complain?

His complaints were in vain when two men, clearly workers at the ranch, grabbed him by the arms, dragging him backwards away from the circle. "Yeesh, I can walk, you know," he grumbled, trying to shoot glares at the two men. When this gathered no response, Matvei simply went limp. This may not have seemed like much, until you realised that this action put Matvei's full weight on the arms of the two men, and, while Matvei was thin, he was not light. His height ensured that his weight never dropped below 180 pounds, and the slight muscle he had ensured that it was often more than that. The grunts from the men as they struggled to drag him along amused him quite a bit, even if it did mean that his legs got completely covered in dirt. Oh well. These clothes were too ugly to bother keeping clean.

After his hair had been washed with no obvious care - Matvei's head hurt quite a bit afterwards - he was thrown into the cabin with an appearance similar to that of a cat that had been thrown into a swimming pool. His hair hung down on either side of his face in dripping curls, the shoulders of his shirt completely soaked. His hair was a bit darker than normal because it was wet, and the colour appeared to be slightly more blonde than white, but that was the only difference between it and how it had formerly looked.

"Blech. That was horrible," he muttered, glaring at nothing in particular. Matvei grabbed one of the blankets from the small pile, wrapping it around himself before gracefully falling down onto the wooden bed, curling up, and falling asleep.

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Character Portrait: Harlem Faye
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Harlem reluctantly removed his piercing and his necklace and handed the items over with a look of complete loathing. He didn't understand why he didn't have the right to keep hold of his very special, personal possessions. He watched the fuss the others made about the ordeal (and the consequences which followed) and admired them for it. He, however, didn't see the sense in fighting about it. Eventually, the other party would win and he would just be putting himself through a whole lot more unnecessary shit then what was already being presented to him (which was enough). Especially since the jewelry wasn't that important. It wasn't worth being forced to stare at a desert for ten minutes, anyway. What the hell kind of punishment was that anyway?

When he had finished with the exchange, he followed the next set of instructions and found himself in a room. Not much to look at and not very appealing. No mattress, even? Seemed like pointless cruelty to him, but then, most things did. He didn't see much point to the large percentage of things. How hard cold it be for these stupid people to provide mattresses, for example? What sort of valuable life lesson did such depravity hope to teach? Okay, maybe 'depravity' were too harsh of a word, but really.

He lay down on his side, trying to get comfortable and thinking over everything that had lead him to be in this fucked up place. He didn't really blame himself. Okay, it was kind of his fault for not doing a good enough job killing himself... You're kind of supposed to die and all that. It was just all a little pointless, wasn't it? The whole cycle. You're born, you grown up, you make money, you fall in love, maybe have a family and then you die. Everyone always dies, so you might as well chose when you go out, right? Seemed like a easy enough concept to conceive, yet there was something terribly wrong with him for wishing to snuff it, for taking drugs so he didn't have to feel, for being withdrawn because idle chatter was senseless. Hah! That was a joke and a half! More like there was something terribly wrong with the world and the people in it. Anyone with common sense would want to get the fuck out of there as soon as they could, right?

What was worse then the whole, pointless cycle was the bad shit that happened, like this very uncomfortable bed, for example. He doubted he would be able to sleep at all. His body was jerking and aching too much for that. Even in a comfortable bed, he'd probably not be able to sleep.

And what was this stone circle shit he kept hearing about? What exactly would that achieve? Turn him around, make him revert his oh so sinful ways due to a stone circle? Nah, fuck that. It wouldn't achieve shit. Let them just wait and see.

He lay tossing and turning, his body in a feverish state. He'd even bashed his head fervently against the wall, half trying to knock himself out until finally, just before sunrise, he fell asleep, where his dreams were dark and filled with regret.

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Character Portrait: Mike Stinster
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(I'm gonna start next day so we can continue)

Brandy looked at his watch. Six a.m. exactly. He went to the boys cabin first and knocked firmly on the door to wake them up. ''Wake up! Six a.m.! Perfect time to get up. You must all be downstairs within five minutes.'' Brandy left the boys room and knocked on the girls one. ''Wake up. Six a.m.! Perfect time to get up. You all must be downstairs within five minutes!'' Brandy went downstairs to wait for them.




Mike had hardly slept a bit, bit apparently it was time to get up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, then got his shoes on and got up. Without even thinking if the others were awake, he went downstairs and positioned himself before the table they were about to eat at.