((Enter Lucas Lupradio))
What a day. No, more than that, what a week. Everything together, the stress of finals, the thrill of impending graduation, the excitement of the school trip, the mind-wrenching gut-churning fear caused by being captured by terrorists and watching an execution, the stress of hiding, it was all too much. Just too much. Long story short, Lucas Lupradio had nearly had a breakdown. He'd nearly lost his cool, nearly lost himself. Nearly given up.
But, somehow, he'd pulled himself together, persisted, and so he still lived. He'd spent the first two days on the island dodging people, hiding, making his way from inhospitable climate to inaccessible environment in an effort to dodge the dangerous members of his class. He knew there would be some. Knew his relative popularity wouldn't be enough to keep him safe. He'd considered keeping to that strategy, hiding away until the end of the game, waiting everyone out, banking on his outdoors experience and stamina to keep him going.
Problem was, he had a little thing called a conscience, and it had been prodding at him the whole time, telling him he couldn't leave everyone to die, suggesting that he had a greater purpose than saving his own sorry hide. He'd been able to ignore it for two days. Ignore the occaisional gunshots, the couple of loud explosions. The plume of smoke. But, with today's announcement, it had just been too much. Forty people were dead. Forty of Lucas' classmates, gone, never to return. He couldn't stay in hiding after that.
But he couldn't exactly go around and let himself get killed easily, either. No, that wouldn't do well at all. It was why he had made sure to be armed. Strapped to his backpack was his assigned weapon. It was some sort of large, spiky stick thing. Looked fairly useless overall, unless he could keep his opponent at just the right distance.
That was why he was also carrying the Skorpion vz.61 he had found next to the decapitated body of one Dawne Jiang. The gun was heavy. Solid. Terrifying. Just what Lucas needed to keep himself safe. Better still, he'd figured out about how it worked, firing off three shots from the partially-emptied clip earlier on to get a feel for it. After unloading the clip and checking his ammunition, he felt pretty confident in his chances. Still six bullets in the gun. The other weapon on his back for a backup. No, Lucas Lupradio was going to be nobody's easy prey.
He didn't like the thought of killing his classmates, but he'd come to terms with the fact that a few of them had to go. Reiko Ishida. Maxwell Lombardi. Kris Hartmann. Clio Gabriella. Nick Reid. Alex Rasputin. These people had surrendered any right they had to explain themselves by killing multiple times. If Lucas saw any of them, he knew what he had to do. He would, much as it pained him, pull the trigger and blow them away.
Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. He was at the Greens because it was a recently-vacated danger zone. He'd been lurking nearby, ready to move in. Ready to set up camp. This way, he had the initiative. He had things under contol. He would turn this golf course into his fortress, and anyone not playing could find safety there.
The others... well, he had enough weapons to keep them out. He should probably think of a long term plan eventually, but that had never been his strong suit. For now, he would live in the moment, and this was a damn fine moment to be Lucas Lupradio.
((So, though Lucas is doomed to die, remember that your characters don't know that. Also, remember you can't GM him. Cheers!))
Not an Easy Out
Morning, Day 3
((Ericka Bradley continued from Just Like a Hangover But Without All The Fun))
It had taken awhile to find a place where Ericka could get a little bit of rest. It hadn't been much, she was too stressed to sleep very deeply, or for very long, but it would have to do. She woke up to the announcement and, eating some of her bread rations and drinking some water, she set out, hoping on doing something other than waiting in one spot until someone with murderous intent found her.
Arriving at what appeared to be an open field, Ericka took out her map to figure out where she was. The Greens... They were a danger- no wait, that's right, the danger zones had been cleared, the Greens were safe, and since there were deaths here there might be things to scavenge.
Ericka slowly walked around the outskirts of the area, hoping to find any dead bodies that might have anything that would be helpful with it. The first body she found, however, turned out to be less-than-dead. Eyeing him over, she saw that he had two weapons... Had he...? No, he didn't necessarily kill someone for a second weapon. Ericka knew she couldn't have been the only one who had the idea to search dead bodies for weapons or extra rations.
The question now was; Would he be friend or foe? Ericka edged closer to try to get a better look.
It had taken awhile to find a place where Ericka could get a little bit of rest. It hadn't been much, she was too stressed to sleep very deeply, or for very long, but it would have to do. She woke up to the announcement and, eating some of her bread rations and drinking some water, she set out, hoping on doing something other than waiting in one spot until someone with murderous intent found her.
Arriving at what appeared to be an open field, Ericka took out her map to figure out where she was. The Greens... They were a danger- no wait, that's right, the danger zones had been cleared, the Greens were safe, and since there were deaths here there might be things to scavenge.
Ericka slowly walked around the outskirts of the area, hoping to find any dead bodies that might have anything that would be helpful with it. The first body she found, however, turned out to be less-than-dead. Eyeing him over, she saw that he had two weapons... Had he...? No, he didn't necessarily kill someone for a second weapon. Ericka knew she couldn't have been the only one who had the idea to search dead bodies for weapons or extra rations.
The question now was; Would he be friend or foe? Ericka edged closer to try to get a better look.
Lucas was walking the greens, investigating the surroundings. It was unnatural, which made him feel odd. Not a bit like the wide wilderness of the rest of the island, where he'd been fairly at home. This was a golf course. A big old reminder of man's attempted mastery over the wilderness. The only reason Lucas was going to stick it out here was the visibility. A golf course was not a place where one could hide easily. He could see most anywhere, and, given his SMG, that would be to his advantage. No ambushes. No surprise knives in the back.
He was near a bunker he'd been inspecting when he turned, scanning the area, and caught a glimpse of movement. Someone was nearby. He couldn't make out who, couldn't begin to guess at their motives. That wasn't good. He readied his gun. Best to be safe. Wouldn't do to shoot up someone harmless, but... better safe than dead. Certainly.
"Hello?" he called in the general direction in which he thought he'd seen movement. There were some nice hills in the course, especially around this area, so he couldn't quite be sure. It would be a better move, he realized, to get on top of one, set up there. Then his line of sight would be nearly perfect. That, however, would have to come after he'd handled the current situation.
"Who's there? It's Lucas Lupradio. I'm not planning on shooting anybody who's not gonna do the same to me."
Except Reiko Ishida. And Kris Hartmann. And Alex Rasputin. And Nick Reid. And Clio Gabriella. And Maxwell Lombardi. Still, no reason to got warning them if it was one of the multiple-killers sneaking up, right?
He was near a bunker he'd been inspecting when he turned, scanning the area, and caught a glimpse of movement. Someone was nearby. He couldn't make out who, couldn't begin to guess at their motives. That wasn't good. He readied his gun. Best to be safe. Wouldn't do to shoot up someone harmless, but... better safe than dead. Certainly.
"Hello?" he called in the general direction in which he thought he'd seen movement. There were some nice hills in the course, especially around this area, so he couldn't quite be sure. It would be a better move, he realized, to get on top of one, set up there. Then his line of sight would be nearly perfect. That, however, would have to come after he'd handled the current situation.
"Who's there? It's Lucas Lupradio. I'm not planning on shooting anybody who's not gonna do the same to me."
Except Reiko Ishida. And Kris Hartmann. And Alex Rasputin. And Nick Reid. And Clio Gabriella. And Maxwell Lombardi. Still, no reason to got warning them if it was one of the multiple-killers sneaking up, right?
Ericka had been noticed. By Lucas Lupradio, apparently. She didn't recognize the name, but then she was never exactly a social butterfly. She wondered whether she should introduce herself or if she should run, against her better judgment she decided to introduce herself.
"...I'm Ericka Bradley," She hesitantly called out, "I was attacked yesterday, and I had to k-kill him, so my name was...." She thought for a moment "Back at school I helped out at the school library as an extra-curricular, a lot of people remember me from that if it helps."
She stepped out past the treeline. "So, Is there a reason you're standing out in the open like that?"
"...I'm Ericka Bradley," She hesitantly called out, "I was attacked yesterday, and I had to k-kill him, so my name was...." She thought for a moment "Back at school I helped out at the school library as an extra-curricular, a lot of people remember me from that if it helps."
She stepped out past the treeline. "So, Is there a reason you're standing out in the open like that?"
Ericka Bradley. Killer. Victim? Frankie Watson. Two people Lucas didn't know, except through the announcements. That complicated matters, however, Ericka had been honest. She'd told him the score. That had to count for something. He hadn't known who she was. She could have tried to lure him out and kill him.
She was from the library? Lucas didn't spend too much time in the library. He was a film man, not a bookworm. Still, an academic background did not imply full-on insanity. A difficult decision, then. A very difficult one. She stepped clear of the cover of the tree line, and Lucas looked at her. Short. Skinny. Messy hair. Didn't look too threatening.
She asked why he was in the open.
"Well, Ericka, I figure our best bet here is to get a nice area set up and wait this out. A fortress, if you will. Keep away the psychos, keep a trusted group together. You're welcome to join."
Quick as he could, he snapped the SMG into line with the girl.
"Provided you spill the beans on that kill right now. Names. Places. Details. I want to believe you, but... with real murderers out there? Who can tell anymore?"
She was from the library? Lucas didn't spend too much time in the library. He was a film man, not a bookworm. Still, an academic background did not imply full-on insanity. A difficult decision, then. A very difficult one. She stepped clear of the cover of the tree line, and Lucas looked at her. Short. Skinny. Messy hair. Didn't look too threatening.
She asked why he was in the open.
"Well, Ericka, I figure our best bet here is to get a nice area set up and wait this out. A fortress, if you will. Keep away the psychos, keep a trusted group together. You're welcome to join."
Quick as he could, he snapped the SMG into line with the girl.
"Provided you spill the beans on that kill right now. Names. Places. Details. I want to believe you, but... with real murderers out there? Who can tell anymore?"
A fortress? He thinks a wide open space would make a good fortress? What is he thinking? It didn't take a tactical genius to know that many of the advantages he got from his "fortress" would also work against him. Either that was a lie or he just didn't realize that it was a bad plan, both possibilities were aggravating.
He wanted to know about her kill, in detail. How much detail was needed? Detail was not what she wanted to relive, especially not with a gun pointed at her.
"Uh... I was looking for a place to rest, I checked around the mine area. Frankie confronted me, at first I didn't recognize him, but then I realized I had seen him around the library. He seemed upset at me, I don't really know why, but a rumor I heard back at Bayview, if true, would explain it. He threw his knife at me, but it only hit me with it's handle. He ran at me, I shot and hit, but it wasn't fatal. He knocked me down and I dropped my gun. He grabbed his knife off of the ground and held it over me. Then he... I guess he hesitated, but he still would have killed me, I could tell, it's just... anyway, he dropped the knife and I grabbed it, and since you heard the announcement you can probably figure out what happened next. When he died he collapsed on top of me and I was stuck for awhile.... Oh, and I think he was traveling with someone, but I didn't see them if he was, probably ran when they heard the gunshot."
Ericka gulped nervously, she was attacked, but who would know if this boy would see it that way. She put her finger on the trigger and tightened her grip on her gun. The knife had been stored in her bag when she took her rest earlier, without any pockets she only had her hands, her bag, and her sleeves to carry things with, her left sleeve already had a clip hidden in it for easy access, and she wanted to keep her right sleeve unweighted.
"What about you?" She asked with a slight hint of annoyance in her voice, "You have two weapons. Did you kill anyone today?" She took a few steps back and raised her weapon and pointed it at the boy, "See? You're not the only one who can ask inconvenient questions while pointing a gun at someone. And you know what? I have a forest to slip into, unlike you and your so-called fortress."
He wanted to know about her kill, in detail. How much detail was needed? Detail was not what she wanted to relive, especially not with a gun pointed at her.
"Uh... I was looking for a place to rest, I checked around the mine area. Frankie confronted me, at first I didn't recognize him, but then I realized I had seen him around the library. He seemed upset at me, I don't really know why, but a rumor I heard back at Bayview, if true, would explain it. He threw his knife at me, but it only hit me with it's handle. He ran at me, I shot and hit, but it wasn't fatal. He knocked me down and I dropped my gun. He grabbed his knife off of the ground and held it over me. Then he... I guess he hesitated, but he still would have killed me, I could tell, it's just... anyway, he dropped the knife and I grabbed it, and since you heard the announcement you can probably figure out what happened next. When he died he collapsed on top of me and I was stuck for awhile.... Oh, and I think he was traveling with someone, but I didn't see them if he was, probably ran when they heard the gunshot."
Ericka gulped nervously, she was attacked, but who would know if this boy would see it that way. She put her finger on the trigger and tightened her grip on her gun. The knife had been stored in her bag when she took her rest earlier, without any pockets she only had her hands, her bag, and her sleeves to carry things with, her left sleeve already had a clip hidden in it for easy access, and she wanted to keep her right sleeve unweighted.
"What about you?" She asked with a slight hint of annoyance in her voice, "You have two weapons. Did you kill anyone today?" She took a few steps back and raised her weapon and pointed it at the boy, "See? You're not the only one who can ask inconvenient questions while pointing a gun at someone. And you know what? I have a forest to slip into, unlike you and your so-called fortress."
((Peter Siu continued from Don't go breaking my heart...))
People were pointing guns at each other. Peter hadn't expected that to be the the type of scene he'd find when happening across more living people since he'd last left the mansion over a day ago. Well, more living people besides Eiko. Regardless of the fact that he didn't expect this turn of events, he was hardly surprised. Danya had been gracious enough to tell him that some people had less compulsions against using their weapons on others.
He remembered the first morning he had awoken to the roaring announcements. He wasn't supposed to be asleep when it happened. Sleep had crept up on him like a ninja sometime in the hours of darkness before the dawn, when he was supposed to be keeping watch. He hadn't been given much of an opportunity to kick himself up over it, because Danya was using his time on the microphone to hammer home the reality of the game that they were in.
Sure, Peter and Eiko had passed one or two bodies on their way around the island, but Peter had expected at least one person to succumb to playing. He'd watched Survival of the Fittest before; somebody always started playing early. Peter had done his best to clean up the bodies and put them in a more peaceful position. In a way, he had wished that he'd been given a shovel instead of a sword; these people deserved some respect. At least more than they'd been given.
Still, the sheer number of people dead and killers was somewhat an unsettling notion to Peter. He had recognized most of the names, though many he knew of moreso than knowing personally. He'd made a list in his head as Danya rattled off the names: a list of the dead but not forgotten. It was equally important to note who had played the part of the killer: Kris Hartmann, Reiko Ishida, Clio Gabriella, and last but not least, a bear. Peter didn't know what he would do if he met any of them. He wasn't going to attack a girl, and there sure as hell was nothing he could do against a bear.
Peter and Eiko hadn't strayed too far off through the woods away from the large mansion. They had reached the small hut that sat at the edge of the expansive green lawn, but something had convinced him to keep moving past to another destination. Eiko had been understandably against that idea, but Peter just had a gut feeling that going there would not end well. In the end, they had settled for a makeshift camp not too far from the small hut. Peter felt more at ease in the open air, and he had reasoned it wouldn't be too much more comfortable to try to sleep in the hut.
Danya had finished reciting his litany of death, and had gone on to make the other administrative announcements of the day. Danger Zones were not a new concept to Peter, but it was something totally different just seeing it on television and actually being steps away from a newly named Danger Zone. The Greens and the Groundskeeper's Hut. Those were close to their camp, and that meant that he wouldn't be able to go back to the mansion for his stuff if something bad happened today, since the Greens would basically surround the mansion.
Peter had watched as people bolted from the little hut he'd been watching for the night. Luke Templeton and... Clio Gabriella. Fuck. She wasn't heading in his direction, but it was scary to think he'd been that close to a killer. If he'd actually gone inside, he could've been another name that would be on the morning announcements. His and Eiko's names.
In any case, the best plan had been to keep moving around, while trying to stay away from the big marked locations on the map. They would be easy gathering places for people and it was likely that one of the killers would come to the same conclusion. The two spent much of the day trailblazing through the woods around the mountain that loomed over the trees. The sword he had been given had been decent for bushwhacking, although Peter used it sparingly so as to not dull the blade's edge. The traveling companions had shared choice bits of small talk throughout their travels, but Peter was not much of a conversationalist.
He had suspected that Eiko wasn't happy with his attempts to baby her along the trail, so at some point he stopped checking on her tiredness every fifteen minutes. Still, it was obvious that she wasn't familiar with long hikes, so he needed to slow his pace and take breaks more frequently than he'd have liked. Their trek around the island had been met with no signs of human life. Either the island was way bigger than he originally expected, or everyone really was just clustered up where the map indicated there had been a town.
Night had fallen and Peter once again set up a makeshift camp for him and Eiko. Most of his spare clothes went to padding out a bed and blanket for Eiko, while he resigned himself to the night's watch. Again, that didn't last long as two days of hiking hadn't done great things for his mental fatigue. He awoke sometime in the dead hours before dawn, far past the time anyone would consider making an attack. Either way, he was going to do his best to keep up the watch.
The morning announcements arrived with the breaking dawn. The list was again full of names he recognized. Peter had been taken aback by the mention of Will killing somebody, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. It was not up to him to judge his friends on whether or not they killed. Still, he was relieved to hear that no more of his friends had died. The list of the dead grew, and Peter once again found himself wishing that he'd known more about many of the fallen. He knew names and faces, but not very much about the actual person behind that name and face. It felt like its own sort of failure that he couldn't remember more.
The coming of a new day meant resuming the long walk around the island. Eiko was understandably against that plan. A city girl like her just wasn't used to toughing it out in the woods for extended periods of time after all. Peter could hardly wait until it started raining; he could already imagine the complaining that would be brought in by the turn in weather. Still, he wasn't going to make a big fuss about it, and in the end they decided to turn around to get back to the newly cleared Groundskeeper's Hut. It would be closer to the Mansion and if they got there quickly enough, they could stake it out for themselves.
So here he was, back at the tall green grass. Back to where he started on this island.
Flat grassy plains were not Peter's ideal for terrain to be associated in. There was little cover, and it lacked the trees to block the glaring heat of the sun or the gusts of wind that swept across the flats. There really was little benefit to staying out here. Unless they were suntanning or something totally retarded like that.
Evidently, other people hadn't come to the same conclusion as he did. Stepping out of the treeline onto the green grass, Peter caught sight of two people off to his side. One was hovering near the edge of the plains and appeared to be conversing with the other, who was standing quite a ways farther in the open.
"Lemme go take a look. You should stay back." Peter held up his hand in somewhat of a stopping gesture. If things got hairy, it wouldn't do to have Eiko hanging too close with him. "I don't think there'll be trouble, but best to be safe." He wasn't sure at all if Eiko would accept a reason like that, but now wasn't the time to debate.
He hunched over and slowly crept toward the two, hoping that they were more preoccupied with each other to notice his approach. Peter had a knack for sneaking up on people back at school, mainly because he was the kind of person that didn't really attract attention. With any luck, he would be able to pull it off here on the island. As long as they didn't get jumpy about people sneaking around.
Ericka Bradley and Lucas Lupradio. Once he had closed the gap, he could make out their faces in the daylight. Peter couldn't say that he was close to either of them, and neither were the people he'd hear much about on the school rumor mills. What he did know was that Ericka had been named just this morning as having killed someone. Of course, the way that Danya had framed it made it sound like she had done it out of self defense as opposed to malice.
That, of course, didn't explain why she was pointing a gun at Lucas. Or vice versa. Lucas had made a show of pointing his gun at the girl first, but the only motion past that was Ericka returning the favor after a few moments of talking. Peter was still too far away to hear what she had said, just catching her last few words as she raised her gun. Peter needed to do something fast before someone actually got trigger happy. He shot a look over his shoulder to make sure Eiko wasn't following too closely; she'd be in danger if bullets started flying.
"Shouldn't you two be a bit more careful about where you're pointing those things?" Peter tried to keep a reasonable but dry tone as he rose from his position in the tall grass about ten feet behind Lucas. His sword, still sheathed, was loosely held in his off hand while he made a salute-like greeting. "Now, if you ask me, it seems like nobody here really wants to be shooting anyone. I mean, you already had plenty of time to do it." Peter punctuated the comment with a shrug. It made little sense to try to talk someone down in a game like this if you had a gun after all. "So let's have everyone chill out and put them guns down."
Peter put his hand on the sword's hilt and stepped forward toward Lucas. "Lucas, you first. You started this." Peter had tried to practice drawing and resheathing the sword the previous night, but it wasn't a skill that could be learned that quickly. If Lucas decided to use the gun, Peter would have maybe half a second to do something. He'd probably dodge to the side when Lucas swung his arm around, giving him more room to circle close to knock him down. Ericka was too far away to do anything about if she decided to fire; there was a lot more distance to cover to reach her.
Peter didn't want anything bad to happen, but he needed to be ready. This was Survival of the Fittest after all.
People were pointing guns at each other. Peter hadn't expected that to be the the type of scene he'd find when happening across more living people since he'd last left the mansion over a day ago. Well, more living people besides Eiko. Regardless of the fact that he didn't expect this turn of events, he was hardly surprised. Danya had been gracious enough to tell him that some people had less compulsions against using their weapons on others.
He remembered the first morning he had awoken to the roaring announcements. He wasn't supposed to be asleep when it happened. Sleep had crept up on him like a ninja sometime in the hours of darkness before the dawn, when he was supposed to be keeping watch. He hadn't been given much of an opportunity to kick himself up over it, because Danya was using his time on the microphone to hammer home the reality of the game that they were in.
Sure, Peter and Eiko had passed one or two bodies on their way around the island, but Peter had expected at least one person to succumb to playing. He'd watched Survival of the Fittest before; somebody always started playing early. Peter had done his best to clean up the bodies and put them in a more peaceful position. In a way, he had wished that he'd been given a shovel instead of a sword; these people deserved some respect. At least more than they'd been given.
Still, the sheer number of people dead and killers was somewhat an unsettling notion to Peter. He had recognized most of the names, though many he knew of moreso than knowing personally. He'd made a list in his head as Danya rattled off the names: a list of the dead but not forgotten. It was equally important to note who had played the part of the killer: Kris Hartmann, Reiko Ishida, Clio Gabriella, and last but not least, a bear. Peter didn't know what he would do if he met any of them. He wasn't going to attack a girl, and there sure as hell was nothing he could do against a bear.
Peter and Eiko hadn't strayed too far off through the woods away from the large mansion. They had reached the small hut that sat at the edge of the expansive green lawn, but something had convinced him to keep moving past to another destination. Eiko had been understandably against that idea, but Peter just had a gut feeling that going there would not end well. In the end, they had settled for a makeshift camp not too far from the small hut. Peter felt more at ease in the open air, and he had reasoned it wouldn't be too much more comfortable to try to sleep in the hut.
Danya had finished reciting his litany of death, and had gone on to make the other administrative announcements of the day. Danger Zones were not a new concept to Peter, but it was something totally different just seeing it on television and actually being steps away from a newly named Danger Zone. The Greens and the Groundskeeper's Hut. Those were close to their camp, and that meant that he wouldn't be able to go back to the mansion for his stuff if something bad happened today, since the Greens would basically surround the mansion.
Peter had watched as people bolted from the little hut he'd been watching for the night. Luke Templeton and... Clio Gabriella. Fuck. She wasn't heading in his direction, but it was scary to think he'd been that close to a killer. If he'd actually gone inside, he could've been another name that would be on the morning announcements. His and Eiko's names.
In any case, the best plan had been to keep moving around, while trying to stay away from the big marked locations on the map. They would be easy gathering places for people and it was likely that one of the killers would come to the same conclusion. The two spent much of the day trailblazing through the woods around the mountain that loomed over the trees. The sword he had been given had been decent for bushwhacking, although Peter used it sparingly so as to not dull the blade's edge. The traveling companions had shared choice bits of small talk throughout their travels, but Peter was not much of a conversationalist.
He had suspected that Eiko wasn't happy with his attempts to baby her along the trail, so at some point he stopped checking on her tiredness every fifteen minutes. Still, it was obvious that she wasn't familiar with long hikes, so he needed to slow his pace and take breaks more frequently than he'd have liked. Their trek around the island had been met with no signs of human life. Either the island was way bigger than he originally expected, or everyone really was just clustered up where the map indicated there had been a town.
Night had fallen and Peter once again set up a makeshift camp for him and Eiko. Most of his spare clothes went to padding out a bed and blanket for Eiko, while he resigned himself to the night's watch. Again, that didn't last long as two days of hiking hadn't done great things for his mental fatigue. He awoke sometime in the dead hours before dawn, far past the time anyone would consider making an attack. Either way, he was going to do his best to keep up the watch.
The morning announcements arrived with the breaking dawn. The list was again full of names he recognized. Peter had been taken aback by the mention of Will killing somebody, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. It was not up to him to judge his friends on whether or not they killed. Still, he was relieved to hear that no more of his friends had died. The list of the dead grew, and Peter once again found himself wishing that he'd known more about many of the fallen. He knew names and faces, but not very much about the actual person behind that name and face. It felt like its own sort of failure that he couldn't remember more.
The coming of a new day meant resuming the long walk around the island. Eiko was understandably against that plan. A city girl like her just wasn't used to toughing it out in the woods for extended periods of time after all. Peter could hardly wait until it started raining; he could already imagine the complaining that would be brought in by the turn in weather. Still, he wasn't going to make a big fuss about it, and in the end they decided to turn around to get back to the newly cleared Groundskeeper's Hut. It would be closer to the Mansion and if they got there quickly enough, they could stake it out for themselves.
So here he was, back at the tall green grass. Back to where he started on this island.
Flat grassy plains were not Peter's ideal for terrain to be associated in. There was little cover, and it lacked the trees to block the glaring heat of the sun or the gusts of wind that swept across the flats. There really was little benefit to staying out here. Unless they were suntanning or something totally retarded like that.
Evidently, other people hadn't come to the same conclusion as he did. Stepping out of the treeline onto the green grass, Peter caught sight of two people off to his side. One was hovering near the edge of the plains and appeared to be conversing with the other, who was standing quite a ways farther in the open.
"Lemme go take a look. You should stay back." Peter held up his hand in somewhat of a stopping gesture. If things got hairy, it wouldn't do to have Eiko hanging too close with him. "I don't think there'll be trouble, but best to be safe." He wasn't sure at all if Eiko would accept a reason like that, but now wasn't the time to debate.
He hunched over and slowly crept toward the two, hoping that they were more preoccupied with each other to notice his approach. Peter had a knack for sneaking up on people back at school, mainly because he was the kind of person that didn't really attract attention. With any luck, he would be able to pull it off here on the island. As long as they didn't get jumpy about people sneaking around.
Ericka Bradley and Lucas Lupradio. Once he had closed the gap, he could make out their faces in the daylight. Peter couldn't say that he was close to either of them, and neither were the people he'd hear much about on the school rumor mills. What he did know was that Ericka had been named just this morning as having killed someone. Of course, the way that Danya had framed it made it sound like she had done it out of self defense as opposed to malice.
That, of course, didn't explain why she was pointing a gun at Lucas. Or vice versa. Lucas had made a show of pointing his gun at the girl first, but the only motion past that was Ericka returning the favor after a few moments of talking. Peter was still too far away to hear what she had said, just catching her last few words as she raised her gun. Peter needed to do something fast before someone actually got trigger happy. He shot a look over his shoulder to make sure Eiko wasn't following too closely; she'd be in danger if bullets started flying.
"Shouldn't you two be a bit more careful about where you're pointing those things?" Peter tried to keep a reasonable but dry tone as he rose from his position in the tall grass about ten feet behind Lucas. His sword, still sheathed, was loosely held in his off hand while he made a salute-like greeting. "Now, if you ask me, it seems like nobody here really wants to be shooting anyone. I mean, you already had plenty of time to do it." Peter punctuated the comment with a shrug. It made little sense to try to talk someone down in a game like this if you had a gun after all. "So let's have everyone chill out and put them guns down."
Peter put his hand on the sword's hilt and stepped forward toward Lucas. "Lucas, you first. You started this." Peter had tried to practice drawing and resheathing the sword the previous night, but it wasn't a skill that could be learned that quickly. If Lucas decided to use the gun, Peter would have maybe half a second to do something. He'd probably dodge to the side when Lucas swung his arm around, giving him more room to circle close to knock him down. Ericka was too far away to do anything about if she decided to fire; there was a lot more distance to cover to reach her.
Peter didn't want anything bad to happen, but he needed to be ready. This was Survival of the Fittest after all.
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Blah blah blah. She went on and on about the kill. He'd wanted details, not an entire narrative. Really, he mostly wanted to see how much she tried to hide and justify things. The more of that there was, the less he wanted to trust her.
She didn't really whitewash things much, though. She'd been attacked, shot the assailant, then, when he dropped his weapon, picked it up and stabbed him to death with it. That sounded somewhat psychotic. She said he'd have killed her anyways. Maybe it was true. Maybe not. Did it even matter?
Then she turned it around, started coming after him. Ha. A valiant effort, but Lucas' conscience was completely clean. The worrisome bit was that she was getting awfully defensive. Pointing out her strategic advantages, trying to put him off guard. It all added up to one thing: she was looking for trouble. She was lying, planning to psych him out, confuse him, then, when his guard was down, kill him.
He was about to explain this to her in detail. About to make it crystal clear that he was on to her game. But then, out of absolutely nowhere, there was a guy behind him with a sword. A guy talking to both of them. Telling them to put their weapons down. Telling him to acquiesce first. No thank you. Not with a killer holding him up, and with a superior tactical position at that.
"Peter," he said. He knew the guy by sight, though couldn't recall that much about him. "Maybe you weren't paying attention earlier, but Ericka over there killed someone. I'll stand down as soon as she does.
"Oh, and Ericka, I found this gun next to a body. Someone who blew up yesterday. So, what do you say you put that gun away, I do the same, and we work this all out like civilized people?"
How he hoped she would listen. Doubted it, though. She didn't seem the type. This was gonna get nasty, and Peter was on the wrong side of the encounter. Lucas made sure his finger was on the trigger, made sure a twitch was all it would take to send bullets racing after his presumed foe. And, if Peter decided to cause trouble too? He had six shots. Three for each of them. No need to conserve ammo, since Ericka had a gun. Yes, if they were going to cause a problem, Lucas wouldn't let that stop him.
He had this under control.
She didn't really whitewash things much, though. She'd been attacked, shot the assailant, then, when he dropped his weapon, picked it up and stabbed him to death with it. That sounded somewhat psychotic. She said he'd have killed her anyways. Maybe it was true. Maybe not. Did it even matter?
Then she turned it around, started coming after him. Ha. A valiant effort, but Lucas' conscience was completely clean. The worrisome bit was that she was getting awfully defensive. Pointing out her strategic advantages, trying to put him off guard. It all added up to one thing: she was looking for trouble. She was lying, planning to psych him out, confuse him, then, when his guard was down, kill him.
He was about to explain this to her in detail. About to make it crystal clear that he was on to her game. But then, out of absolutely nowhere, there was a guy behind him with a sword. A guy talking to both of them. Telling them to put their weapons down. Telling him to acquiesce first. No thank you. Not with a killer holding him up, and with a superior tactical position at that.
"Peter," he said. He knew the guy by sight, though couldn't recall that much about him. "Maybe you weren't paying attention earlier, but Ericka over there killed someone. I'll stand down as soon as she does.
"Oh, and Ericka, I found this gun next to a body. Someone who blew up yesterday. So, what do you say you put that gun away, I do the same, and we work this all out like civilized people?"
How he hoped she would listen. Doubted it, though. She didn't seem the type. This was gonna get nasty, and Peter was on the wrong side of the encounter. Lucas made sure his finger was on the trigger, made sure a twitch was all it would take to send bullets racing after his presumed foe. And, if Peter decided to cause trouble too? He had six shots. Three for each of them. No need to conserve ammo, since Ericka had a gun. Yes, if they were going to cause a problem, Lucas wouldn't let that stop him.
He had this under control.
((Eiko Haraguchi continued from Don't Go Breaking My Heart...))
When Eiko was very young, she broke one of her father's expensive vases. She knew how hard her father worked to acquire it and desperately tried to fix it. Finding glue was the easy part. The hard part was reassembling all of the pieces and keeping them together long enough for the glue to dry. But the glue was weak and the pieces were heavy and the weather was hot and humid, so her efforts were in vain. She lost count of the number of times the sticky mound of porcelain collapsed, and by the time her father found her, she lied prostrate on the ground, with glue-stained clothes and a blotchy, tear-slick face.
Now she found herself in the position of both the crumbling vase and the child desperately trying to hold it together. Over the past forty-eight hours, her frustration with her plight had shifted between anger, fear, depression, and hatred, some of which she secretly directed at Peter.
Her opinion on Peter was no less divided than it was when she first met him. She should have left him long ago. She should have done better and killed him. She had nothing to kill him with. She needed him. She couldn't get his blood on her hands. She couldn't give into the game. She should accept the game as soon as possible. She hated him. She tolerated him. He was an idiot with no plan or clue. He was her only hope of getting out alive.
And at one point, she did actually start to relate to him a bit. Through sheer boredom, she'd resorted on numerous occasions to talking to this person that she kind of knew, but didn't really. She learned less from him than she was comfortable with learning, though; whenever she felt the temptation to ramble, he let her take it, staying silent more often than not. And then she noticed it happening and broke off the conversation, only to start a new one when she got bored again in the next two hours.
The only really worthwhile conversation she remembered was when they camped out at the end of the first day. She finally took it upon herself to open her bag, only to discover that her weapon was a cheap SOTF lunchbox. Upon seeing it, she immediately took out her frustration on it, stomping it into the dirt, breaking the cheap piece of shit hinges open and snapping the ugly plastic bits into as many small pieces as she could before wearing herself out. When Peter asked why it happened, she brought out the bento box and showed him what a real lunch container should look like. She ate the contents for dinner that night, explaining to him that out of all the bits of Americana she'd seen over the past year, those cheap mockeries of quality bento hit her the hardest. It wasn't terribly rational of her, but she thought was allowed that one quirk.
She was thankful for a few things, though. She once again thanked heaven that she'd brought outdoor wear, even if it wasn't suited for particularly long hikes, and she made sure to thank Peter for steering them away from the grounds-keeper's hut. Even if he didn't know that it would be a danger zone by the time they got there, it still saved them from a life-threatening situation.
But the gratitude that she gave Peter for that was almost immediately yanked away by his insistence that they patrol the island in an attempt to outmaneuver any potential killers. It was... it was a bullshit idea and Eiko told him so. As much as she could appreciate his logic of not being pinned down in one place, constantly hiking everywhere was only going to wear them out so that they wouldn't have the strength to run if they did happen to stumble upon a killer. She couldn't argue his point of trying to avoid landmarks as well, only stating that some of the named areas described the whole region, which would be impossible to avoid, and that they couldn't be the only people who thought of that, either.
That said, she didn't have any better ideas, so she ended up begrudgingly following Peter. It gave her time to think. Entirely too much time.
Now they were in the exact same place they met. Was it worth it, Peter? Was it? Eiko could feel the wrinkles furrowing in her face from her grimacing. She didn't even bother putting on makeup that morning. What was the point anymore?
For the first time since they left the mansion in the first place, she saw two other people, which would have been a welcome reprieve if not for the tense situation they appeared to be in. Peter wanted to handle the situation himself, which irked her. Armed or not, they were other people, a commodity she sorely missed for a long time. She stayed back, but not as far as Peter wanted her to. She got close enough to see and hear everything the other two people said.
Now if only she could remember who these people were.
When Eiko was very young, she broke one of her father's expensive vases. She knew how hard her father worked to acquire it and desperately tried to fix it. Finding glue was the easy part. The hard part was reassembling all of the pieces and keeping them together long enough for the glue to dry. But the glue was weak and the pieces were heavy and the weather was hot and humid, so her efforts were in vain. She lost count of the number of times the sticky mound of porcelain collapsed, and by the time her father found her, she lied prostrate on the ground, with glue-stained clothes and a blotchy, tear-slick face.
Now she found herself in the position of both the crumbling vase and the child desperately trying to hold it together. Over the past forty-eight hours, her frustration with her plight had shifted between anger, fear, depression, and hatred, some of which she secretly directed at Peter.
Her opinion on Peter was no less divided than it was when she first met him. She should have left him long ago. She should have done better and killed him. She had nothing to kill him with. She needed him. She couldn't get his blood on her hands. She couldn't give into the game. She should accept the game as soon as possible. She hated him. She tolerated him. He was an idiot with no plan or clue. He was her only hope of getting out alive.
And at one point, she did actually start to relate to him a bit. Through sheer boredom, she'd resorted on numerous occasions to talking to this person that she kind of knew, but didn't really. She learned less from him than she was comfortable with learning, though; whenever she felt the temptation to ramble, he let her take it, staying silent more often than not. And then she noticed it happening and broke off the conversation, only to start a new one when she got bored again in the next two hours.
The only really worthwhile conversation she remembered was when they camped out at the end of the first day. She finally took it upon herself to open her bag, only to discover that her weapon was a cheap SOTF lunchbox. Upon seeing it, she immediately took out her frustration on it, stomping it into the dirt, breaking the cheap piece of shit hinges open and snapping the ugly plastic bits into as many small pieces as she could before wearing herself out. When Peter asked why it happened, she brought out the bento box and showed him what a real lunch container should look like. She ate the contents for dinner that night, explaining to him that out of all the bits of Americana she'd seen over the past year, those cheap mockeries of quality bento hit her the hardest. It wasn't terribly rational of her, but she thought was allowed that one quirk.
She was thankful for a few things, though. She once again thanked heaven that she'd brought outdoor wear, even if it wasn't suited for particularly long hikes, and she made sure to thank Peter for steering them away from the grounds-keeper's hut. Even if he didn't know that it would be a danger zone by the time they got there, it still saved them from a life-threatening situation.
But the gratitude that she gave Peter for that was almost immediately yanked away by his insistence that they patrol the island in an attempt to outmaneuver any potential killers. It was... it was a bullshit idea and Eiko told him so. As much as she could appreciate his logic of not being pinned down in one place, constantly hiking everywhere was only going to wear them out so that they wouldn't have the strength to run if they did happen to stumble upon a killer. She couldn't argue his point of trying to avoid landmarks as well, only stating that some of the named areas described the whole region, which would be impossible to avoid, and that they couldn't be the only people who thought of that, either.
That said, she didn't have any better ideas, so she ended up begrudgingly following Peter. It gave her time to think. Entirely too much time.
Now they were in the exact same place they met. Was it worth it, Peter? Was it? Eiko could feel the wrinkles furrowing in her face from her grimacing. She didn't even bother putting on makeup that morning. What was the point anymore?
For the first time since they left the mansion in the first place, she saw two other people, which would have been a welcome reprieve if not for the tense situation they appeared to be in. Peter wanted to handle the situation himself, which irked her. Armed or not, they were other people, a commodity she sorely missed for a long time. She stayed back, but not as far as Peter wanted her to. She got close enough to see and hear everything the other two people said.
Now if only she could remember who these people were.
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Everybody always made things more complicated than they had to be. Why did they do that?
Because they're illogical idiots. This isn't news.
"I think you're the one not paying attention. I told you to put the gun down." His voice took on the consistency of cold metal, and every muscle in Peter's body tensed in anticipation of attack. There were hundreds of things that could signal an aggressive action. He had to be ready for every single one of them. "She could've shot you earlier. She didn't. Were you even listening to Danya this morning? She got attacked first." Peter shook his head in exasperation; it was normal for people to only hear the things they wanted to hear, but this was just getting absurd.
Because self-delusion isn't a valuable skill to have. I'm sure I'd know.
Peter released his grip on the sword hilt. A step forward, not too far, just to close the gap between them. With his right hand, he pointed up at Lucas. "You're not a killer. Fact of the matter is, none of us want to be killers." His hand shifted over, indicating the girl standing by the trees. "She didn't want to kill. She just didn't want to die." The pointer finger moved back to Lucas, maintaining its stance of mock authority. "Put the gun down, and nobody will get hurt."
He won't. This is an inevitability.
Peter fixed his gaze on Lucas, taking note of any slight movements that would betray his intentions. Quick reactions were the key to getting the upper hand if it ever came down to it. "I'm not going to say it again."
Remember the first rule of gun kata: do not be where the gun is pointing.
Because they're illogical idiots. This isn't news.
"I think you're the one not paying attention. I told you to put the gun down." His voice took on the consistency of cold metal, and every muscle in Peter's body tensed in anticipation of attack. There were hundreds of things that could signal an aggressive action. He had to be ready for every single one of them. "She could've shot you earlier. She didn't. Were you even listening to Danya this morning? She got attacked first." Peter shook his head in exasperation; it was normal for people to only hear the things they wanted to hear, but this was just getting absurd.
Because self-delusion isn't a valuable skill to have. I'm sure I'd know.
Peter released his grip on the sword hilt. A step forward, not too far, just to close the gap between them. With his right hand, he pointed up at Lucas. "You're not a killer. Fact of the matter is, none of us want to be killers." His hand shifted over, indicating the girl standing by the trees. "She didn't want to kill. She just didn't want to die." The pointer finger moved back to Lucas, maintaining its stance of mock authority. "Put the gun down, and nobody will get hurt."
He won't. This is an inevitability.
Peter fixed his gaze on Lucas, taking note of any slight movements that would betray his intentions. Quick reactions were the key to getting the upper hand if it ever came down to it. "I'm not going to say it again."
Remember the first rule of gun kata: do not be where the gun is pointing.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solomir. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
More people showed up when she finished asking her question. They tried to defuse the situation by getting her and Lucas to stop pointing their guns at each other. It was certainly a good idea, but Lucas didn't seem to be going for it while Ericka had her gun up, and she wouldn't drop her guard while the boy was aiming at her either.
Lucas answered her question; he had gotten the gun by doing what she had been planning to do, scavenging it from a one of the dead.
Peter tried to talk down Lucas, and Ericka saw her chance to escape. She figured that, with his attention, divided Lucas might not notice her if she moved slowly enough. Keeping her gun trained onto Lucas, she backed slowly and carefully towards the tree that had her bag under it. She didn't know what he would do if he noticed her, and she hoped she wouldn't have to find out.
Lucas answered her question; he had gotten the gun by doing what she had been planning to do, scavenging it from a one of the dead.
Peter tried to talk down Lucas, and Ericka saw her chance to escape. She figured that, with his attention, divided Lucas might not notice her if she moved slowly enough. Keeping her gun trained onto Lucas, she backed slowly and carefully towards the tree that had her bag under it. She didn't know what he would do if he noticed her, and she hoped she wouldn't have to find out.
Peter sure was confident. Sure was playing the good guy here. Thing was, something was wrong. Lucas couldn't quite put his finger on it at first, but something was definitely off. Peter didn't seem afraid. He was moving forwards, even, getting closer. Maybe preparing to use that sword of his. Maybe he just didn't care if Lucas shot Ericka. Maybe that was what he was hoping would happen, two targets for the price of one. And there was someone else behind him now, too. That did nothing to make the situation safer. No, maybe Peter was just confident because he had backup. Heavily armed backup.
Six shots against two people? Doable. Six shots against three? That was stretching it, especially if he had to return fire in two directions at once. Lucas glanced at Ericka, and... was she moving? Was she really trying that? What the hell? Did nobody take Lucas' weapon seriously? Was he a giant joke, someone they thought was too stupid to actually pose a threat?
Well. He'd show them. He was pretty positive Ericka was playing, now. Pretty positive Peter was up to something, too. The only sensible thing to do was take them out. It would take some maneuvering, though. Take some intelligent actions. It would require them to be off guard, and that meant taking a little risk.
"I could've shot her earlier too," Lucas said to Peter. "And, really, why should we believe Danya? You ever think he might, you know, not quite be on the level?"
And then, Lucas lowered the gun. Kept it grasped in his hand, but took his finger off the trigger, pointed the front away from Ericka.
"That's as far as I'm willing to trust you two for the moment. She lowers her gun and stops whatever she's doing, then maybe we'll talk more."
There. If that directed Peter's attention away from Lucas and towards Ericka, maybe he wouldn't be on the ball. Maybe he'd even be distracted enough for Lucas to deal with Ericka and get clear. After all, he couldn't be entirely certain that the boy was planning something bad. And there was still that other girl back there, the one causing Lucas to second guess himself. It would be best to leave her alone, unless she tried to pull something.
Just a second. All he needed was that tiny opening.
Six shots against two people? Doable. Six shots against three? That was stretching it, especially if he had to return fire in two directions at once. Lucas glanced at Ericka, and... was she moving? Was she really trying that? What the hell? Did nobody take Lucas' weapon seriously? Was he a giant joke, someone they thought was too stupid to actually pose a threat?
Well. He'd show them. He was pretty positive Ericka was playing, now. Pretty positive Peter was up to something, too. The only sensible thing to do was take them out. It would take some maneuvering, though. Take some intelligent actions. It would require them to be off guard, and that meant taking a little risk.
"I could've shot her earlier too," Lucas said to Peter. "And, really, why should we believe Danya? You ever think he might, you know, not quite be on the level?"
And then, Lucas lowered the gun. Kept it grasped in his hand, but took his finger off the trigger, pointed the front away from Ericka.
"That's as far as I'm willing to trust you two for the moment. She lowers her gun and stops whatever she's doing, then maybe we'll talk more."
There. If that directed Peter's attention away from Lucas and towards Ericka, maybe he wouldn't be on the ball. Maybe he'd even be distracted enough for Lucas to deal with Ericka and get clear. After all, he couldn't be entirely certain that the boy was planning something bad. And there was still that other girl back there, the one causing Lucas to second guess himself. It would be best to leave her alone, unless she tried to pull something.
Just a second. All he needed was that tiny opening.
Ericka lowered her weapon and listened to Lucas' ramblings. Clearly he didn't trust her, or Peter, or the other girl, or anybody else for that matter, but he was still unwilling to kill. Someone who was unwilling to kill, but also unwilling to trust wouldn't have a long lifespan on this island.
"Why would Danya tell the truth?" Ericka voiced the question that Lucas had implied, "It's true that Danya says whatever makes people more willing to kill, but a story of self-defense never does that... unless." She paused, "If Danya thought the story would teach us a lesson that would potentially create a higher body count he'd be willing to tell the truth.
"Look, you're obviously convinced I'm a player, right? And you didn't aim your weapon away from me until you noticed you were surrounded, so I'm guessing you don't trust those two either. I understand the feeling, every time I've come across another person on this island I've been in danger, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't listen to what others are saying. And not every player is a rabid predator who will try to kill everyone they meet."
She turned to walk behind behind the tree and retrieve her bag, but then stopped and turned back toward the others.
"Oh, before I go I should probably make sure you're aware of what Danya was trying to teach us by telling the truth about my kill shouldn't I? The message required us to know that Frankie was the attacker, and it was simply this; If you try to kill someone, make sure you can follow through."
Upon ending her explanation, Ericka raised her gun towards Lucas and opened fire.
"Why would Danya tell the truth?" Ericka voiced the question that Lucas had implied, "It's true that Danya says whatever makes people more willing to kill, but a story of self-defense never does that... unless." She paused, "If Danya thought the story would teach us a lesson that would potentially create a higher body count he'd be willing to tell the truth.
"Look, you're obviously convinced I'm a player, right? And you didn't aim your weapon away from me until you noticed you were surrounded, so I'm guessing you don't trust those two either. I understand the feeling, every time I've come across another person on this island I've been in danger, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't listen to what others are saying. And not every player is a rabid predator who will try to kill everyone they meet."
She turned to walk behind behind the tree and retrieve her bag, but then stopped and turned back toward the others.
"Oh, before I go I should probably make sure you're aware of what Danya was trying to teach us by telling the truth about my kill shouldn't I? The message required us to know that Frankie was the attacker, and it was simply this; If you try to kill someone, make sure you can follow through."
Upon ending her explanation, Ericka raised her gun towards Lucas and opened fire.
Lucas finally put the gun down. Crisis averted. Of course, he had to be all agonizingly slow and long-winded about it; not to mention that he clearly seemed reluctant to go through with it. Possibly worrying, but the most important thing was that people were no longer pointing guns at each other. Well, one side wasn't pointing guns. Ericka appeared to be backing up towards a big tree. Probably getting ready to bolt, since the danger had subsided.
Alternately, finding cover to hide behind while shooting. Can't rule out all possibilities.
Peter relaxed slightly. Now that Lucas had put his gun down, he could actually go back to his normal routine of not actually having to focus on one thing. It was more efficient to be taking in as much information from everything around him. A glance thrown over his shoulder informed him that Eiko had followed him a lot more closely than he'd have preferred. Not much of an issue now, but it could've been dangerous if things had actually gone the other way.
The grass danced their slow dance as a breeze rippled across the field. Peter heard voices again, but nobody else was visible in the vicinity. It took a moment to determine who was talking. Ericka was standing, right up against the large tree, and apparently laying down some observations about Lucas. Peter knew she was right about him not being trustworthy; a sword wasn't nearly as threatening as a gun, but that didn't mean he couldn't be dangerous.
Even Rick Holeman the marine lost using a gun against a fighter. Odds aren't exactly nil.
But she went on talking. About how trusting others wasn't the smartest plan. About how not every killer was instantly violent. And about how there was a lesson Danya was trying to teach them.
Well, turns out she was a psycho after all. Can't be right all the time after all.
No way. No fucking way.
Yes way. Contingency plans ahoy.
The words clicked together; their meaning was clear. It took only a fraction of a moment to put it all together. Too quick. Not quick enough. Another fraction for the thoughts to fully process, to determine a countermeasure. Again too quick. But also not quick enough.
No sense thinking about what would be the right reaction. Just react.
"Get the fuck down!" Peter yelled as he launched himself forward. The loud bark of gunfire drowned out his last word. It sounded different, louder and less resonant, than how he'd imagined it. He had meant to direct his to Eiko, but saying her name would've taken valuable split seconds. He should've been ready. He had been ready: adrenaline had built up over the encounter and it had allowed for an explosive burst of energy to carry him forward in an unpracticed tackle.
He shouldn't have been ready. Adrenaline or no, it felt wrong.
React first. Think later. Lives hang in the balance. That includes my own.
That didn't matter. What mattered was making sure Lucas wasn't going to end up riddled in bullet holes. Because if he did, it would all be Peter's fault. All his fault that someone died and someone became a killer. A real killer. Peter didn't want in any part of that, but that wouldn't be his choice.
God, dead end scenarios sucked.
Alternately, finding cover to hide behind while shooting. Can't rule out all possibilities.
Peter relaxed slightly. Now that Lucas had put his gun down, he could actually go back to his normal routine of not actually having to focus on one thing. It was more efficient to be taking in as much information from everything around him. A glance thrown over his shoulder informed him that Eiko had followed him a lot more closely than he'd have preferred. Not much of an issue now, but it could've been dangerous if things had actually gone the other way.
The grass danced their slow dance as a breeze rippled across the field. Peter heard voices again, but nobody else was visible in the vicinity. It took a moment to determine who was talking. Ericka was standing, right up against the large tree, and apparently laying down some observations about Lucas. Peter knew she was right about him not being trustworthy; a sword wasn't nearly as threatening as a gun, but that didn't mean he couldn't be dangerous.
Even Rick Holeman the marine lost using a gun against a fighter. Odds aren't exactly nil.
But she went on talking. About how trusting others wasn't the smartest plan. About how not every killer was instantly violent. And about how there was a lesson Danya was trying to teach them.
Well, turns out she was a psycho after all. Can't be right all the time after all.
No way. No fucking way.
Yes way. Contingency plans ahoy.
The words clicked together; their meaning was clear. It took only a fraction of a moment to put it all together. Too quick. Not quick enough. Another fraction for the thoughts to fully process, to determine a countermeasure. Again too quick. But also not quick enough.
No sense thinking about what would be the right reaction. Just react.
"Get the fuck down!" Peter yelled as he launched himself forward. The loud bark of gunfire drowned out his last word. It sounded different, louder and less resonant, than how he'd imagined it. He had meant to direct his to Eiko, but saying her name would've taken valuable split seconds. He should've been ready. He had been ready: adrenaline had built up over the encounter and it had allowed for an explosive burst of energy to carry him forward in an unpracticed tackle.
He shouldn't have been ready. Adrenaline or no, it felt wrong.
React first. Think later. Lives hang in the balance. That includes my own.
That didn't matter. What mattered was making sure Lucas wasn't going to end up riddled in bullet holes. Because if he did, it would all be Peter's fault. All his fault that someone died and someone became a killer. A real killer. Peter didn't want in any part of that, but that wouldn't be his choice.
God, dead end scenarios sucked.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solomir. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Eiko had never seen an actual gun before, not this close, not in person, not in a situation where it could point at her and kill her with a twitch of a finger. Why would she? She was secure in life, her hobbies genteel, and guns were for more aggressive types, ones who lived away from the city and in America. There was no right to bear arms in her homeland, which suited Eiko just fine.
But now Eiko was beginning to regret being so sheltered. She was vulnerable out here, alone with only someone else's sword-arm to protect her. Deep down, she was truly grateful that the guns were being pointed at other people, and for once, this selfish thought went unchallenged in her mind.
She kept herself just close enough to catch the conversation between the boy and girl in the standoff, trying to place them and their names. No matter how hard she tried, she didn't recognize the other boy.
The girl, though, she'd seen before. During her frequent trips to the library, Ericka Bradley had often been on hand to help her find what she needed. The recognition triggered a pang of sympathy for her; Eiko hoped that she got out of this standoff alright. Then she heard that Ericka had killed someone. Frankie Watson, one of the more awkward students at school.
She didn't know what to think about that. Nor did she know what to think of the discussion of the announcement. The boy said Danya was lying about her killing in self-defense. Did he do that? Eiko had no idea; she knew as much about this sick game as she did about guns.
Then Bradley began to act strangely. She talked about the psychology behind the announcements, the little half-truths that made people panic and misjudge, causing more and more death. Just hearing about the effect made Eiko's stomach turn, and the more Ericka talked, the more she began to dread something. She didn't know what it was until Ericka raised her gun again.
Could Eiko have moved and saved the boy from her bullet? There was always a slim chance that she could sprint fast enough to push Bradley over and knock her aim off. Might she have tried?
No. She was frozen from being in a tense situation in an unfamiliar environment. She was unwilling to risk herself for a boy she didn't know; she knew half of the senior class and she didn't know him. If she'd had time to think things through, she would have noted that his death meant an unclaimed gun, which was enough reason to let him die.
All she ultimately did was get down, obeying Peter's order in the heat of the moment. She fell on her knees and covered her head as the sound of gunfire roared through the air. It was painfully loud, louder than she'd ever expected it, and it managed to drown out the sound, but not the feeling, of her heart trying to escape her body.
But now Eiko was beginning to regret being so sheltered. She was vulnerable out here, alone with only someone else's sword-arm to protect her. Deep down, she was truly grateful that the guns were being pointed at other people, and for once, this selfish thought went unchallenged in her mind.
She kept herself just close enough to catch the conversation between the boy and girl in the standoff, trying to place them and their names. No matter how hard she tried, she didn't recognize the other boy.
The girl, though, she'd seen before. During her frequent trips to the library, Ericka Bradley had often been on hand to help her find what she needed. The recognition triggered a pang of sympathy for her; Eiko hoped that she got out of this standoff alright. Then she heard that Ericka had killed someone. Frankie Watson, one of the more awkward students at school.
She didn't know what to think about that. Nor did she know what to think of the discussion of the announcement. The boy said Danya was lying about her killing in self-defense. Did he do that? Eiko had no idea; she knew as much about this sick game as she did about guns.
Then Bradley began to act strangely. She talked about the psychology behind the announcements, the little half-truths that made people panic and misjudge, causing more and more death. Just hearing about the effect made Eiko's stomach turn, and the more Ericka talked, the more she began to dread something. She didn't know what it was until Ericka raised her gun again.
Could Eiko have moved and saved the boy from her bullet? There was always a slim chance that she could sprint fast enough to push Bradley over and knock her aim off. Might she have tried?
No. She was frozen from being in a tense situation in an unfamiliar environment. She was unwilling to risk herself for a boy she didn't know; she knew half of the senior class and she didn't know him. If she'd had time to think things through, she would have noted that his death meant an unclaimed gun, which was enough reason to let him die.
All she ultimately did was get down, obeying Peter's order in the heat of the moment. She fell on her knees and covered her head as the sound of gunfire roared through the air. It was painfully loud, louder than she'd ever expected it, and it managed to drown out the sound, but not the feeling, of her heart trying to escape her body.
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