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Post by Hollywood Heidi on May 24, 2007 4:12:37 GMT -5
Preston Saint's home located in the Other's Utopia village. Location found in box C3 below: Far off shot of Othersville in relation to the crash sites:
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Post by Hollywood Heidi on May 24, 2007 4:13:51 GMT -5
***DAY 1 ENDS, DAY 2 BEGINS***
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Post by Preston Saint on May 24, 2007 9:42:45 GMT -5
Preston had been awake for a while, having spent the night on the sofa. He was preparing Samantha's breakfast and hoping she wouldn't attack him when he opened the door. For now, he was making pancakes and thinking about how to tell Ben.
He'd give her breakfast, and then go find Ben. She wouldn't be his problem anymore, she'd be guarded by...Pryce, or Jason or whoever.
He set the plate down on the dining table, and then went to his bedroom door. He knocked lightly.
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Post by ana on May 24, 2007 13:50:04 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
Inside Preston's bedroom, Samantha had slept like the dead for most of the night. The combination of the sedative and the weariness of making her way through the jungle ensuring she didn't wake. In fact she had slept so soundly, she'd hardly moved on the bed. Light through the window and a tapping at the door however, began to rouse her from her slumber like polar bear from hiberation. Rather awkwardly, she rolled onto her side, her eyes still firmly closed as the nights dreams remained in control.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 24, 2007 15:43:58 GMT -5
"Ms Harkness?" he said, raising his voice. "Samantha?" He unlocked the door, and with a cheery demeanour, walked right in. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey."
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Post by ana on May 26, 2007 10:53:44 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
Turbulence was never meant to be this bad. Samantha was being thrown around in her seat so much, she felt like she was on a rollercoaster. Once more, she pulled at the belt across her lap, hoping that tightening it just that little bit more would make a difference, but still she was buffeted around by the constant and violent jerking movements the plane was powerless to avoid. It was the single most terrifying thing she'd ever experienced. And deep down, she had an horrible feeling it might be the last thing she ever did.
A sideways glance at the girl she was sitting next to put things into persepctive for her. She wasn't the only one who thought they were going to die. In fact, there was so much screaming and panic on board the plane, that Samantha could barely hear herself think. Instinctively, she grabbed the girl's shaking hand in her own, and did her best to comfort her and tell her everything would be fine. The weak smile she got in return told her she hadn't been all that convincing, but it had been worth the try.
The brief moment of peace was swiftly torn to shreds when the oxygen masks dropped from the compartments above. The girl next to her began to panic even more, but Samantha kept her head. Letting go of her hand, she quickly pulled the mask over her face, feeling the cool oxygen enter her mouth with every shallow breath. Then she began to help the girl sat next to her, who had found it difficult to dis-entangle the straps from the tubes on the mask.
All the while at the back of Samantha's mind, was the distinct feeling that the plane was descending rather rapidly. There was a loud explosion behind her, but she couldn't look round to see what exactly it was. The creaking and screeching noises the airplane had been making were abruptly drowned out by the sounds of rushing wind. The plane had come apart somewhere. Definately not good.
The sinking feeling in her stomach only got worse as the now crashing plane picked up even more speed as gravity lured it down to earth. It was nigh on impossible for her to keep conciousness. The pressure of the descent was far too much for her to handle. Blindly, she tried to grab the girls hand again, but found it limp beside her. She had already passed out. Samantha felt herself doing the same. Her last thought was how unfair this all seemed. She was only twelve years old. It wasn't her time to die yet.
"Samantha?.... Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey."
She woke with a sudden start, her mind still believing she was dreaming, until she spotted who it was that had called her name.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 26, 2007 11:09:31 GMT -5
He smiled encouragingly at her. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sleep well?"
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Post by ana on May 26, 2007 11:15:57 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
A look of mis-trust crossed Samantha's face and she backed away from him on the bed.
"Thanks largely to your tea, Mr. Saint." She began to look around herself, seeing only an unfamiliar room.
"Where the devil am I?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 26, 2007 11:23:44 GMT -5
"Where the devil am I?"
"I'd love to explain it all to you, Ms Harkness. I'm afraid it would be a little overwhelming right now." he replied cooly. "Now, if you'd like to get up, I'm prepared some breakfast and it's getting cold."
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Post by ana on May 26, 2007 11:34:31 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
Why was he being so civil towards her when just last night he'd drugged her tea? And why did he even do that, just so he could make her breakfast? Nothing was making any sense anymore, and now that Samantha could smell the pancakes and hear her stomach growling, she decided the easiest way to find out who this man was and what he wanted with her, would be to try and talk to him. Besides, he no doubt still had the doors locked, so she couldn't escape if she tried.
Slowly she got up off the bed, on the opposite side to where Preston had sat down. Testing her blistered feet on the carpet to see if they'd still carry her after so much abuse yesterday.
"Do you really expect me to eat anything you made after what you did to me? How do I know, you're not just going to drug me again?" She said calmly, edging towards the door.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 26, 2007 11:39:15 GMT -5
"Do you really expect me to eat anything you made after what you did to me? How do I know, you're not just going to drug me again?"
"I won't drug you again unless you give me reason to." he replied, standing, ready to tackle her if she tried to run or touch his CD collection. "Everything will be sorted out soon, and I know this is a very stressful and bizarre time for you. But things'll be fine. No one's going to hurt you."
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Post by ana on May 26, 2007 11:52:13 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
"I think bizarre is quite the understatement Mr. Saint." She said, wiping sleep from her eyes. Compliance. That was the key. If she pretended to play along, she could bide her time and look for an oppertune moment to get away. He kept talking about other people on this island. They couldn't all be as creepy and weird as Preston could they? Someone would help her. At least she hoped they would.
Hesitantly, she wandered into the dining room under the ever watchful eye of Mr. Saint. Before her was a quite lovely breakfast display which he had seemingly gone to quite some effort to arrange.
"If it wasn't for the fact you were holding me hostage right now, I'd be fairly impressed by that."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 26, 2007 11:58:17 GMT -5
"If it wasn't for the fact you were holding me hostage right now, I'd be fairly impressed by that."
"Thank you." he stated, moving around the table. "I didn't lie to you. Not really. We are on an island, I am the resident doctor, but...we have other, more noble purposes then just building a community and there would be a few too many questions if rescue boats turned up."
He took a seat. "I'm very sorry to tell you, Ms Harkness, but you can't go home. Not quite yet, anyway."
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Post by ana on May 27, 2007 16:24:35 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
"I didn't lie to you. Not really. We are on an island, I am the resident doctor, but...we have other, more noble purposes then just building a community and there would be a few too many questions if rescue boats turned up."
"I'm not even going to pretend that I know what you are talking about Mr. Saint. Whatever this secret noble purpose is that you have; I haven't the foggiest. In fact, I'm not even interested." She lied. By now, she was desperate to know what the hell was going on here. But apparently that track of conversation wasn't going anywhere. He was most adamant that he wasn't going to spill the beans.
"So you can just call me a rescue boat and I'll be on my merry way. Honestly, I wouldn't mention it to a soul."
"I'm very sorry to tell you, Ms Harkness, but you can't go home. Not quite yet, anyway."
Samantha felt like she was banging her head against a brick wall. It was clearly pointless to bargain her release right now. She just had to think of a better way of getting out. But first, she needed to eat. And before Preston could tuck into his own plate of pancakes, she reached over and switched plates with him. After a funny look was thrown in her direction, she explained.
"I'm not foolish enough to trust you yet. I'll take the non-sedated pancakes thank you very much."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 27, 2007 16:28:12 GMT -5
"So you can just call me a rescue boat and I'll be on my merry way. Honestly, I wouldn't mention it to a soul."
He gave a short, little laugh. "I'm sorry. The answer's no."
"I'm not foolish enough to trust you yet. I'll take the non-sedated pancakes thank you very much."
He looked over at her, with a slight look of disappointment. As if he'd even think of drugging her food. Oh. Wait.
He delicately began to eat his pancakes. "You know, you might not believe me, but I'm a good person. Really, I am. We're all good people, doing great things." He looked over at her. "Do you consider yourself a good person? Or better yet, a good person who's done something great?"
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Post by ana on May 27, 2007 16:34:55 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
"You know, you might not believe me, but I'm a good person. Really, I am. We're all good people, doing great things...Do you consider yourself a good person? Or better yet, a good person who's done something great?"
Samantha started to eat, feeling slightly re-assured that even though she'd swapped plates with him, he didn't hesitate to eat. Which meant he was past using dirty tricks on her. For now.
"You're starting to sound like one of those evangelical preachers," she chuckled, between mouthfuls of food. "Or better yet...one of those cult leaders that gets everyone to follow them to a backwater retreat where you manage to talk everyone into killing themselves for the greater good."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 27, 2007 17:10:15 GMT -5
"You're starting to sound like one of those evangelical preachers, Or better yet...one of those cult leaders that gets everyone to follow them to a backwater retreat where you manage to talk everyone into killing themselves for the greater good."He stared up at her with violent shock, and then slammed his fists down on his plate, shaking the whole table. He stood, and glared directly at her with gritted teeth. "I am not like that. Say it. Say I'm not like a preacher. Say it." He couldn't be like that. Not like those people. flashback triggered: abclost.proboards40.com/index.cgi?board=rpgbios&action=display&thread=1176881922&page=1#1180303886
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Post by ana on May 27, 2007 17:27:22 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
The sudden change in Preston's demeanor startled Samantha so much, she actually jumped in her seat when he slammed his hand on the table.
"I am not like that."
For a moment, she just looked at him with wide eyes, unsure whether or not to say anything.
"It's not..."
"Say it. Say I'm not like a preacher." Samantha faltered.
"Look, I didn't mean...."
"Say it." There was a sudden chill down her spine and Samantha gulped a nervous breath.
"Alright. You're not like a preacher." She waited to see if those words would make any difference to someone who she'd clearly hit a nerve with.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 27, 2007 17:29:23 GMT -5
He sat back down, closing his eyes and calming himself. "Now," he began. "We're just going to eat. Like good, normal people do and don't insult one another."
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Post by ana on May 27, 2007 18:03:46 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
Samantha's attention was unwaivering from Preston. It was hard not to wonder what had just happened in his mind. What had she said to cause such offense? That he was preaching? Did he have some kind of deep seated hatred of religion? Whatever it was, Samantha was keen not to explore it, at least not until she had some kind of weapon to defend herself with in case he decided to lose his temper again. And it was certainly an explosive temper.
She put her head down and stayed quiet, cutting at her panckes with the knife in her hand. There was a pause. Why have I only just realised I have a knife? She thought, mentally slapping her forehead as if the obvious had been right there in front of her the whole time. Okay, it wasn't very sharp, but it could still be damaging if enough force was behind it. She stopped staring at the silver blade, hoping Preston hadn't seen the look and realised he'd made a mistake. He hadn't. His attention was elsewhere, his brain still working to calm himself down. She carried on eating normally, but her eyes were now looking for a way to make this work.
There was no way she would just be able to walk out the door, even with a knife in her hand. Firstly, he was a capable looking man, no doubt able to overpower her should she decide to attack him. And secondly, the doors were likely to be locked and she didn't know where to look for a key. Logic suggested he had it on his person, in which case, she was buggered. Unless he had sedated the pancakes after all and was stupid enough to forget, she wasn't walking out the door.
Her attention fell upon the kitchen window, lying half in her eye-line from where she sat. The window that was slightly ajar! It was hard to judge, from her vantage point, but it did look hopeful that she would be able to fit through it. Assuming, that was, she could distract Preston long enough to make a dash for it.
"That's quite the formidable music collection you have there, Mr. Saint." She stated, nodding towards the neat stack of CD's. Inside she hoped the change of subject wouldn't cause as much offense as the last one.
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