Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
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Post by Jack on Nov 7, 2007 19:56:55 GMT -5
JACK
Jack ran into the caves and tried to find the best thing available to cover up the beehive. He quickly grabbed an empty suitcase. Perhaps it was not the best thing available, but Jack didn't exactly have a whole lot of time. He hurried back out of the caves hoping that Charlie hadn't alright split the beehive. "How's this?" he asked Locke holding up the suitcase.
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Jack
Collecting Info for a Census
plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Nov 4, 2007 18:51:48 GMT -5
JACK
He turned to Locke, ignoring Charlie's statement as it would be no help to them to consider it. "What now?" Jack asked well aware of their current dilemma.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Nov 3, 2007 20:55:43 GMT -5
JACK
He slipped out of the caves with Kate to see what Locke and Charlie were doing out side the caves. "What's going on?" Jack asked trying to keep up with the situation.
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Jack
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Post by Jack on Oct 28, 2007 20:44:46 GMT -5
JACK
"Best to load up now and get them back to the beach. People can only wait so long."
"Yeah no kidding," Jack said with a small smile as he wiped some of the sweat off his face. "Alright, we'll get going as soon as everyone has gotten a chance to rest."
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Oct 26, 2007 21:54:29 GMT -5
JACK
"I do?"
"Yeah," Jack replied not taking much notice to the question. "Bring me your bottles," he told the Charlie and the others as he stood over the water with his empty bottle. "And keep an eye out for any medical supplies, drugs in particular," Jack ordered Charlie in a strict yet friendly tone.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Oct 24, 2007 14:59:06 GMT -5
JACK
***Jack, Kate, Lee-o, Erik, Ethan, Charlie, and Locke enter from F3 - Mid-Jungle Boar Territory***
Jack approached the entrance of the caves. "This is it," Jack said as he stepped inside with the others following close behind him. He turned to face them and then turned back as he continued towards the water.
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Jack
Collecting Info for a Census
plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Sept 27, 2007 22:21:59 GMT -5
JACK He continued on in the direction that he assumed was where the figure went. He slowed to a halt as he tried to catch his barrings. He looked around the jungle to try to see if he could spot the figure. As he did so he spotted plants, vines that almost shaped a hole the lead into what Jack could only assume was a cave. Jack swallowed hard, almost as if he were swallowing his fear before he entered. Not 2 minutes after he had entered the caves did he stop in his tracks again. His eyes lit up in amazement as if they had just spotted the most beautiful thing he could find. In front of him was water, fresh water surrounded by vines, and the water seemed to be flowing over a miniature waterfall. Jack examined the water and as he did so he spotted something odd in the pool of water on the waterfall. It was a doll. Jack curled his eyebrow as he stepped into the water to pick it up. It looked like a doll that would be found in the 1950s. Jack looked around the caves and noticed that there were tons of the exact same doll scattered all over the caves. It was almost a frightening sight, and certainly gave off the feeling of easement. Jack followed the trail back to a smashed box. Behind it was what looked like pieces of the plane. Jack could only figure that the box had fallen from the plane. Jack looked around at all the pieces of the plane that were logged in the vines as he tossed the doll to the ground. He waved the torch back and fourth as he examined every last bit of the caves. He once again found himself completely frozen in his tracks. Jack looked almost frightened. He looked down to see a coffin. His father's coffin. Jack stared it in disbelief as he sighed. "...Oceanic flight 125 non-stop to Singapore will be leaving from gate 14..." FlashbackJack stared at the coffin a moment longer before walking over to it. He rested as hand on it as he felt as if he was gunna fall over. He let out a single tear as he lowered his head. He looked up and he pulled the handle causing the coffin to fall to the ground. Some other boxes and pieces of the wreckage fell with it. Jack placed the torch next to it as he braced himself to open it up. He took one last deep breath and sung it open. Jack nearly fell back by the mental force that came from what was inside...Nothing. It was empty. Jack could feel his anger coming back, his pain. He slammed the coffin closed as hard as he could which caused some splinters in the wood. He grabbed a club near by and began to beat the coffin as hard as he could. Breaking every last piece of it. This was his chance to finally come to terms with his father's death, to finally move on. But instead there was nothing left for him to get past nothing for him to deal with. And so Jack filled the hole as he continuously smashed the bat into the coffin as he let out a growl of anger.
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Jack
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Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Dec 27, 2007 11:33:47 GMT -5
BEN
Feeling board and extremely useless, I felt that there was nothing better to do to fill the void then walk around the beach and into the jungle a bit. Of coarse there was no way I was going deep into the jungle, especially not after what happened a few days ago, but of course Jack and his tribe always need to find a reason to go into the jungle.
I halted frozen in my steps. Why? Why did there have to be a strange and eerie noise while I was in the jungle? Of course I wasn't asking myself these question while I stood frozen to the ground, I was too damn scared. There was only to things to do, fight or flight. And so I carried on thinking I had a chosen flight, but unaware that I was walking towards the noise. He was walked out of the heavy bushes into an open area, "Whoa!" I shouted unexpectedly as I jumped back behind a tree. It took about a second for me to decipher what I just saw. "Oh jeez," I exclaimed as I bent over trying to catch my breath. "Its just you guys." I said to both Ana and Walter with my head between my knees.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Jul 24, 2007 2:02:00 GMT -5
***Flashback 2 years before the crash***
The sweat running down his face, the flex muscles wanting to rip out of the skin, not that it was visible what with his sweatshirt on. It was easy to hear him panting as he began to run out of breath, but he couldn’t hear it as he was throwing punch after punch after punch. But it was never enough, he had to keep going, he had to keep fighting until it was he who was finished from exhaustion.
“Why do they call ‘im Mad Fist Willy?” Tommy asked, being his usual, ignorant self. This never seemed to bother Neil, actually he quite enjoyed Tommy’s uneducated questions. Neil always had fun giving a sarcastic response, but it wasn’t as though he would display his amusement. He would have to seem irritated, it was all part of the act, without it, it wasn’t quit as fun.
“I thought tha’ was pretty obvious,” Neil replied, “Its because when he fucking pleasures his lonely self, he does it quite amazingly,” and there was Neil’s trademark sarcasm. “Hence the name Willy…Why the fuck do you think they call him Mad Fist Willy?”
Willy continued to throw punches over and over again, not really taking notice to their conversation. “That’s not wha’ I mean,” Tommy explained in a aggravated tone. But what it sounded like was a kid drying to defend himself while he’s getting bullied. “What I meant was why do they call ‘im that, if he punches just like any other boxer.”
“Oh I suppose your right Tommy, maybe they should call him predictable Willy…But it doesn’ have the same kinda ring does it?” Neil replied, making his point. Willy stop to take a breath, and put his head at his knees. Sweat dripped off him like morning dew on a leaf. He reached over with one hand, it looked as though it was taking every ounce of his strength. He grabbed the punching bag and held it steady.
Neil and Tommy were looking Willy over, as if to evaluate him, see if he was worth their trouble, it was kind of ironic seeing as how they didn’t have much of a choice. Willy was their fighter, and there was no means of changing that. Willy continued to pant heavily before quickly rising up and attacking the punching bag again, only this time he was head butting it and hitting it with his elbows.
“Is he allowed to do that?” Tommy asked. He never seized the stupidity or lack of knowledge, which ever one sounds less hurtful. Neil looked at Willy and then back at Tommy before replying. Sometimes Tommy’s ignorance even surprised Neil, and sometimes, was all the time.
“It’s an unlicensed boxing match,” Neil replied, this time actually displaying his shock of Tommy’s stupidity. Tommy wasn’t your average dimwitted chap, he was more like gangster living in the projects who grew up in Beverly Hills. No matter how hard he would try to fit in, it would be clearly obvious that something didn’t quite fit. “Not a tickling competition,” Neil had to throw a piece of sarcasm, he only got a perfect chance like this every so often…Actually, more often then you’d think. “These lads are out to hurt each other,” Neil continued.
They were in a run down, abandoned trailer park, it was quite similar to a warehouse. It was completely filthy, and the original colour would be impossible to tell even if you were offered a hundred pounds to figure it out. There were pieces of scrap all over the place, and some extremely old, worn out training equipment. Neil, with a look of disgust, was more concerned about his run down caravan. “Ugh,” he muttered, “Look at, its dreadful.”
“Well its not as though we are world famous boxing promoters is it?” Tommy asked rhetorically.
“Still, I can’t run my business in this,” Neil continued, not taking much notice to Tommy’s comment, and not as though Tommy’s comment was to be taken notice of. “I want you to buy me a new one Tommy.”
“Why me,” he asked, sounding like a child whose been asked to clean the whole fucking house.
“Because, you have experience with this sort of thing,” Neil replied. His B.S. didn’t slip past anyone, but it didn’t hurt to flatter Tommy a bit. “I’ve already got everything arranged, all you have to do is go over there and pick it up. Here’s an address” Neil explained, holding up a piece of paper.
“It’s a fucking campsite,” Tommy replied in surprise and revulsion. “Its owned by gypos. I fucking hate pikeys,” Tommy complained.
“You’re a sensitive one aren’t you Tommy,” Neil joked, but with no grin on his face. “I’ll give ya 10 grand, and it would be nice to see some change,” Neil continued, making himself rather clear to anyone.
“Anyway, what’s wrong with this one?” Tommy asked and before Neil could reply, the caravan shifted on an angle as the back axle broke in half, and the wheels imploded on themselves. Neil watched as one of the rims rolled away.
“Oh nothing Tommy, its tip top, just I’m not sure about the colour,” he replied. Tommy sighed as he came to the realization that there was no way of taking his way out of his new found conundrum. Neil reached into his picket as he heard his cell phone ringing.
“Neil.” He said as he answered it, he wasn’t really in the mood for taking to strangers of insurance salesmen. “Really?...Well fuck me…No not you Kingpin, just a little sudden…Of course, we’ll be by in a few hours…Alright…” Neil closed the phone and put it back into his pocket.
“Who was that?” Tommy asked. Neil turned to him with a stubborn look, “You ask that like you weren’t listening in on the conversation. Anyway it was Kingpin, he wants Willy to fight for him,” Tommy’s face froze in fear, but that explanation was to come later.
“How did he get our number?” Tommy asked.
“How the fuck should I know?” Neil asked. He had the same fear as Tommy, but he kept pretty well buried, “I’m not Kingpin, ask him.”
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Jack
Collecting Info for a Census
plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Jul 23, 2007 2:12:45 GMT -5
Name: Tommy Age: 27 What you do: Runs the shops while I run the boxing business. He's my partner not in a sexual way. He's pretty much my brother. Appearance: Overview: A nice guys, probably not what people would call streets smart, but he does his best. He's kinda of like my shadow, but that's not to say he 'asn't saved my ass before, but that doesn't keep me from giving him a hard time, it keeps him in line. He's a stumbling fool most of the time, he's like a newly graduated intern, who knows nothing about the outside world. Name: Mad Fist Willy Age: 31 What you do: Boxer Appearance: Overview: My boxer, and a friend of mine. Perhaps a little dim witted, and will always try to pick a fight over very small issues to prove his strength. An idiot if you were to ask me, but of course I can't tell 'im that because I need 'im to fight. Name: Sullivan 'Kingpin' Polford Age: 64 What you do: Atop the food chain in organized crime. Appearance: Overview: A f*cking bastard, and a real pain in my ass, but he's also the f*ckhead who pays me so there's not much I can do. I have to pretend I respect him, when really, I'd love to see the sneaky f*ck degrading in the dirt. He's an extremely powerful man, and does not 'esitate to kill anyone who irritates him, in fact its the highlight of the c*nt's day. Of course he won't be the one to kill ya, he'll get his sodding associates to do it for 'im, and take my word for it, you don't want to run into those brutes in an alley. And believe me I know how sad it is that he calls himself Kingpin, as if makes him more f*cking masculine, but all I see in the name is a codename for a homosexual porn star.
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Jack
Collecting Info for a Census
plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Jul 23, 2007 0:54:24 GMT -5
Status: Tailie Name: Neil Parkman Age: 28 Occupation back home: I was a boxing promoter. And I was a happy boxing promoter until a week ago. Appearance: Nationality: British Residence: I'd say crap whole f*cking island, but I'm getting the feeling you get that a lot around here. So I'll just say n/a Skills: I'm extremely useful in tight situations, what with my quick thinking and strength. Weaknesses/bad habits: I tend to fit in with bad people, and that alone, gets me into trouble. Also a lot of people can't tell when I'm joking. Frequent moods/expressions: I'm an easy going, regular guy. I can be a bit of an ass, but who isn't. I'm funny, in a sarcastic way. I'm calm and I always keep my cool. Reason for flight: Cause I didn't want to have my ass handed to me in Australia. Item from wreckage: A baseball bat...for protection.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Dec 12, 2006 19:51:31 GMT -5
oh I know its not actually a language, but I figured it'd be easier to follow if it were basic. And I thought it was a nationality
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Dec 11, 2006 16:35:40 GMT -5
Just so you know dialog written like this "like this" are in African, and dialog written like this "Like this" are in English.
***Flashback 5 years before the crash***
(Somewhere in the South Atlantic)
The water would smash against the side of the sailboat. The boat would sway back and forth as the rippled waves past underneath. They were odd shaped boats. With the sail tide to the mas, it looked like any regular boat, but the sail its self was an odd triangular shape with jagged points all around it, and had a strange design on it, with black and dark red colouring.
There were dozens of other boats and docks leading into a forest. Everyone on the sailboats continuously threw in nets and pulled out fish. Kojo stood straight up, shirtless. his shoulder broad, and his pants held together by a very thick rope through the belt loops. His muscles were a great advantage to him, especially since he was the only one working alone. He pulled in the net himself, with muscles all over his body tensing as he did so.
The sun began to set on the horizon, and all the sails were dropped. It was now just simple rafts floating in the ocean. Kojo pulled his sailboat to shore using the rope on the bow, and tied it to the dock. "Ah... you have the strength of 12 men, just like your father," one of the other sailors told him.
"Hello Benjamin," Kojo greeted. Benjamin simply smiled, before he jumped at the sound of gun shots. An automatic weapon went off in the distance. Almost everyone froze, a couple of people fell to the ground from the shock. It was all men at the docks, and they stood absolutely still. You could here many of them panting, and a few shriek. Kojo just stood still with his eyes wide open, and his mouth shut. He knew making noise would only attract the rebels.
For a second his eyes flared before he took off into the forest, "Kojo! Where are you going! Kojo!!!," Benjamin yelled, but Kojo was already sprinting through the forest. He was running as if he knew where he was running to, or what he was chasing after. He slowed down as he heard yelling in the forest.
"Papa!" he looked around to see where the sound was coming from. He caught a sight of his son and bolted toward him.
Kofe! Are you alright?" he called out. His son simply nodded his head. His son's name of course was Kofe, it was pronounced like coffee, except the 'o' was pronounced like g'o'. "Kofe," he said as he held his sons head against his chest, "Come, we must go," Kojo said getting up.
(Just outside Freetown)
The sound of gun fire was heard not 10 minutes ago, and already Kojo was smiling, and having a friendly chat with his son, "So what have they taught you?" Kojo asked as they walked home.
"I don't know," Kofe responded. Kofe was mearly 9 perhaps 10, "They mostly teach us English I guess," he continued.
"And how much have you learned?" Kojo asked in English.
"Quite a bit, I can now understand you and mama when you speak in English," Kofe responded.
"Well that is no good," Kojo stated, "Your mother and I will have to learn a new language," he joked. Kofe smiled. "I remember when I was your age, we had to walk 5km just to get to school," Kojo explained, "but that was when we still had the church." Kojo eyes seemed to drop to the ground. Both he and Kofe had a thick accent as they spoke in English.
"How long ago was it burnt down?" Kofe asked.
"It was burnt down three days before you were born," Kojo explained. Kojo instantly stopped, holding back his son with his hand, "Shh," he instructed. They could hear loud music in the distance, "Hide in the bushes," he ordered Kofe, "Go!" Kofe dove into the bushes, and Kojo removed a machete from the back of his pants. He began to run again, this time faster then before. Now as he got closer to his village he could hear screams, and gun shots.
He slowly approached the camp, hiding behind an army Jeep. He peered over it to see something horrific, not just the innocent people being lined up and shot, but something worse. He slowly approached the center of the camp, only to notice that his grass hut (his home) was on fire.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Dec 11, 2006 15:44:16 GMT -5
Status: Midsection Name: Kojo N'Yanda Age: 40 Occupation back home: I was once a simple fisherman, before I was taken by the UFDR during the civil war, and I was forced to be their slave, along with hundreds of other innocent people. Appearance: Nationality: African Residence: Freetown, Sierra Leone Skills: I am strong, and... To be honest, I have never had many uses or skills, and if I do, I have never used them. Weaknesses/bad habits: I will over react to many things, putting my life, and many others in great danger. Frequent moods/expressions: I am rather quiet, I am very passionate, and what you Americans seem to call hardheaded. I am very optimistic, and I have much perseverance. I do not take kindly to many people, especially people who use for their advantage.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Nov 26, 2006 18:02:15 GMT -5
Name: Daniel Pickett Age: It doesn't matter, hot shot Occupation back home: Define 'Home' Appearance: Nationality: I guess you could say I'm American... if you wanted to. Residence: You planning on dropping by? Skills: Basically I'll do anything you want me to, but when I start taking matters into my own hands, that's when the party's over. Weaknesses/bad habits: Now why would you be interested in that? Frequent moods/expressions: Me? I'm just a regular guy, sometimes happy, some times funny... But if you piss me off, I will make you pay for it. Reason for flight: You say that like I was on the plane.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Dec 9, 2006 22:33:30 GMT -5
nice, short, but interesting, I like it. And I know it took me a while to read it, but I am going to get caught up with the flashbacks now ;D
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Dec 10, 2006 19:23:04 GMT -5
hey great job, yeah I know a couple of people like that with the same kinds of problems.
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Jack
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plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Dec 10, 2006 19:41:45 GMT -5
wow, how messed up, I'm intrigued to find out why that happened . Very good job.
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Jack
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Goodwin
Jun 11, 2007 18:50:20 GMT -5
Post by Jack on Jun 11, 2007 18:50:20 GMT -5
“Who are you?”
Goodwin stood perfectly still, he was still in shock by the sudden ambush. He was simply make a delivery, and now he was at gun point. One false move and he would no longer be a ‘threat’ to anyone. He could feel the sweat rolling down his face.
“I asked, ‘who are you?’” The man reiterated.
Goodwin remained still. He looked around at the people surrounding him. “Please, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Look, you’ll be fine, we’re not going to do anything to you, just tell us who you are,” the man assured Goodwin.
“Why?” he asked more for his own curiosity and fear then to be stubborn.
“You’re one of them aren’t you?” the man asked.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Goodwin said, hoping his ignorance would allow him to avoid any mishaps. The man pointed the gun sternly at Goodwin. He motioned with the gun to Goodwin’s feet.
“What’s in the boxes?” the man asked.
Goodwin looked down at his feet noticing the three boxes he had dropped as he was jumped. “I don’t--”
“What!?” the man yelled, demanding an answer.
“I don’t know!” Goodwin retorted panicking. “They didn’t tell me.”
“They?” the man asked. There was a loud whistle causing Goodwin, and surprisingly everyone else to jump. Goodwin looked up seeing a man with long dark hair walking towards them.
“Leave him be,” he ordered the other man.
Goodwin observed this man clearly. He looked past Goodwin’s head, down the open fields. “Are you alone?” he asked calmly.
“Yes.” Goodwin replied simply.
“And your people…they don’t know you’re out here?” he asked.
“No, no I’m supposed to be on my way back,” Goodwin replied, the fear was evident in his voice.
“Look, I’m sorry for all this,” the man told Goodwin sincerely, “My friends and I, we’re a bit hasty on stopping any unfamiliar faces and interrogating them. You and the ‘others’” he said putting emphasis on the word ‘others’.
“The ‘others’?” Goodwin asked, trying to remain calm, “That’s what you people are calling us?”
A grim look appeared on the man’s face. It almost seemed as if Goodwin was trying to make it seem as if he were better then them. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, but you people have been bothering us ever since you showed up,” the man explained to Goodwin, “Now I want to make sure that you and any other members of your ‘tribe’ so to speak, remain unharmed…for the time being,” the man continued, “and I want to make sure nothing happens to any of you. I know we have made a few attacks, but those are just warnings.”
Goodwin’s hand began to shake, “I don’t want to hurt you, but to make sure that we, none of us hurt you, you need to tell us who you are, and what you are doing here,” the man informed Goodwin.
Goodwin began to tremble, “I can’t,” he replied.
The man looked down at his feet in shame, “Alright then, I’m sorry to do this,” he turned to one of the men behind him holding a riffle. “Shoot him…kill him if he does not answer my question in, oh…” the man looked at his watch, “10 seconds.”
“No please!” Goodwin begged. The man lifted the gun and pointed it at Goodwin’s head.
“Time starts now,” the man told Goodwin.
“I can’t!” Goodwin yelled in fear.
“7 seconds,” the man said counting down with the watch. The man holding the riffle loosened his shoulders getting ready for the shot. Goodwin remained silent quickly looking around at everyone for help, but they all just simply stared back at him. “5 seconds.”
“Please, you have no idea what they’ll do to me if I talk!” Goodwin pleaded.
“4…3…” the man continued counting down.
“I can’t!” Goodwin yelled panicking.
“2…”
“No!” Goodwin yelled in fear.
“One…” the man holding the riffled cocked a shell into the chamber.
Goodwin yelled, trying to avoid getting shot in the face, “My name's Goodwin, and I’m a member of the Dharma Initiative!!!”
***Flashback 21 years before the crash***
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Jack
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Goodwin
Nov 12, 2006 2:22:17 GMT -5
Post by Jack on Nov 12, 2006 2:22:17 GMT -5
***Flashback Day of the crash***
Goodwin found himself doing random things around the house, he always seemed to be a man with little to do. Of course it wasn't up to him to decide what he does. He adjusted a picture frame on his wall. The picture held some sort of significance to him, at least he liked to think so. He always stared at the painting with the same face, a face of dignity and strength. The painting was of two woman bent over with a baby in their hands, both with their eyes shut, as if they were bowing or praying. And in front of them was a king, with a sword through the middle of the baby.
He walked to the front door and left the house. It was once again a nice, crisp day. Utopias weren't Goodwin's thing, but he didn't mind it here. He watched as people walked around doing their business, most of them had gotten use to living here, but not Goodwin, it all felt so disquieting, not saying that every now and then he doesn't wake up feeling like he's at home, but that feeling is instantly taken away. He made his way over to a familiar friends house. Everything here was so green and alive, it was almost like pathetic fallacy, except it was the complete opposite to what Goodwin felt. Because of his age and skill, Goodwin was treated with much respect.
He knocked on the door and was delighted to see who opened it. "Goodwin," she said in delight, she rapped her hands around him, "What are you doing here? When did you get back?" she asked.
"Hey Julie," he said, Juliet and him weren't in a relationship or anything, they were just close friends, "Danny and I got back last night," he told her.
"Oh man your filthy," she told him. He laughed, he always enjoyed her company. Her house was very colorful and bright.
"So what have you been up to?" he asked.
"Oh the usual," she told him, "Making my world famous muffins," they both shared a laugh. He looked over to see the little dog house like structure with the front of it taken off. She caught him looking at it, "Yup he still hasn't fixed it."
He looked at her trying to make sure they were talking about the same thing, "I can't imagine how you can go eight days without using the washroom," he joked.
"Well Goodwin, there is a jungle at my disposal," she told him.
He smiled, "Remind me to follow you out there some time," he laughed.
She smiled. There was a pause before she spoke again, "So really, why'd ya stop by?" she asked.
"Just wanted to let you know I wont show up for your book-club meeting... Ben," he said giving her the reason.
She nodded, "Of course," he stepped down from her porch, "You should really be careful out there, you know how I worry about you and Danny," she told him.
"I know," he said, "I'll see ya later," he walked off to his house and stumbled inside. He pulled out some books and rearranged them, that's when it hit him. The sudden rumbling. At first he thought it was an earth quake, then he realized what it truly was, "Damn it Dezy," he said to himself. He closed his eyes as everything fell and shattered. He made the symbol of the cross on his chest, "The Lord is my Shepard I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteo..." he stopped there. The shaking had stopped. He threw open his door to take a look outside.
He looked up into the sky as a plane broke into three pieces, he watched the tail fall off into the distance, he seemed to be more interested in it then anything. Then he could hear Ben's voice, "Goodwin!"
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