[Daisuke Nagazawa continued from Don't Go Breaking My Heart...]
Under the cover of nightfall, Daisuke and Logan crept into the sawmill compound, hoping to find a place to rest their weary heads. The main building was too large and too open ended for their liking, with too many ways to get caught unaware. Instead, they decided to hole up in one of the smaller buildings on the outskirts of the compound, which happened to be one of the bunkhouses meant for use for the workers of the mill. The bunk beds and the plastic-encased foam mattresses were still in tact, though they were dusty and dingy from years of wear and tear as well as recent abandonment.
For the most part, Daisuke didn't sleep. His paranoid mind was still wary of his traveling companion, as if their collaboration was just an act for Logan to steal his pistol and kill him in his sleep with that wicked pickaxe of his. Better safe than sorry was his M.O. even if it meant that one of the few occasions where he would probably ever sleep on a bed would mostly go to waste. He lay his head down on his arm, listening intently for the sound of creaking wood groaning under light footsteps that never came until his body finally gave way to sleep.
Daisuke awoke with a startled gasp for air as sunlight permeated through the windows of the bunkhouse. He quickly patted himself down to make sure none of his belongings were missing. His gun was right where he had left it; left inside pocket of his camo jacket. He sighed with relief as he made his way towards the bathroom.
...
"Of course there would be no fucking running water." Daisuke muttered to himself as he left the facilities. He had hoped to at least run a little bit of water on his face to help him wake up and wash up, but the terrorists had preemptively taken that slight pleasure away from him. Logan was still sleeping, so Daisuke decided to prepare a light breakfast for himself in the mean time.
Breakfast was a conservative ration of bread and water for Daisuke, since he wanted to make sure that his main supplies would last for as long as possible. From his own personal stash, Daisuke pulled out a snack bag of Doritos Nacho Cheese that he hadn't bothered to eat during the bus ride and finished it off just as the ominous sound of clapping filled the air.
"Logan! Wake up!" Daisuke yelled as Danya began his morning diatribe. This was important from the sound of it; the announcement could contain information necessary towards their survival, according to his little survival guide. Danya was about to tell them who their targets would be.
Daisuke ran straight for his bag, not even bothering to clean up what was left of his breakfast. He grabbed a pen and a notebook from his personal belongings and began to listen intently to Danya's gleeful retelling of his fellow student's demises.
"Our first elimination for the day was frankly a favour for the genepool...
Daisuke listened intently to the names being called, making notes of their stories. He didn't care about who was lost, as callous as that might have been. The boy was barely friends with anyone at school and hadn't cared much to remember most of Bayview's student body's names in the first place, a fact that Daisuke realized had come back to bite him in the ass. How would he recognize who was a killer and who was innocent now? He quickly jotted down notes about the killers, hoping that Danya would give him a little bit of information to work with.
Omar Burton: Gun. Don't know him.
Alex Rasputin. Don't know him.
Kris Hartmann. Don't know him. (though in actuality, Kris was a girl)
Clio Gabriella. Don't know her
Reiko Ishida...
Now that was a name and face he recognized. She was one of the Ishida twins, two of the few names and faces he'd actually bothered to remember from school, since her family was one of the few Japanese members of the community. It surprised him to find out that she'd killed two people on the first day alone, though he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt since her sister was one of the recently deceased.
Killed two people. Sister Dead. Dangerous? II
Nick Reid: Molotovs. Don't know him
Clio Gabriella. Don't know her. II He added the tally marks to Clio's name where he'd previously written it.
Janet Binachi. Don't know her (DKH).
Ivan Kuznetsov. Dangerous, beat someone to a pulp. DKH
Rob Jenkins. Nazi. DKH
Alex Rasputin. Don't know him. Chainsaw. II
Staffan Kronwall. DKH
Jackie Broughten. Saw. DKH
Colin Falcone... accidental? DKH
Kris Hartmann. Don't know him. Gun. II
Dangerzones: Lighthouse, Hut, Greens
"Dude! You know any of these guys?" Daisuke called out to Logan again, hoping that he at least knew a few of the people on their hit-list. "Cause I sure as hell don't."
Clap For The Killers
Logan and Daisuke Day 2 Start; Open
Clap For The Killers
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[Don't go breaking my heart... --> Logan]
Several hours of sore feet and squinting eyes it took to reach somewhere they could finally call safe. Several hours of trudging through unnerving woodland - both of the intact and felled variety - with only the light of the moon and their torches to guide them. Several hours of the worst damn hike Logan had ever been on.
He'd insisted on travelling slowly and ceaselessly, too cautious to stop, too paranoid to risk missing anything on the way. One unheard snap of a twig or rustle of leaves could be enough for a nighttime hunter to get the drop on them, seize the advantage, and off them both before they had a chance to make their weapons useful. Of course, just to make Logan feel even more like an overly-paranoid wreck already, nothing out of the ordinary occured. Other than being stranded on an island with bombs on their necks, ordered to kill each other. But apparently, that was the new norm, and how easily the hapless students seemed to accept that.
After what seemed like an eternity of creeping through the wilderness, Daisuke was the one to spot the Sawmill first. A quick recon showed the place to be empty, though the main building looked like a bomb had hit it - literally. In a hushed voice, Logan wondered aloud "Reckon that's recent?", but received no response. He didn't complain, couldn't blame his companion for wanting to keep silent, or perhaps for not wanting to think about what might've happened. Eventually, the pair settled on a small bunkhouse at the outskirts, a dank little hut, but far more welcome than the outdoors, or the disconcertingly open and empty main building.
---
It wasn't the sunlight on his face that roused Logan from his fitful slumber. Without anything but guesswork to tell the time - he'd managed to leave his watch inside his own bag, which he'd left in the tunnels under the assumption Danya's people had kept it - he had no solid idea of how long he'd sat awake into the small hours of the morning, but was fairly sure it was at 4 that his body had finally told his fear-addled mind to shut up and let him sleep. The sleep was scarcely restful, and when Daisuke's yelling brought him back to the waking world, Logan felt about as tired and fatigued as he'd been when he first lay down.
But he knew, as he sat up and felt strength reluctantly returning to his muscles, he'd be fine after a few minutes. His body would, at least, blessed with the mindless stamina from his sporting career. His head, on the other hand, was still a complete mess, filled with fear and doubt. However, Logan managed to hush his thoughts for the time being, long enough to hear Danya and his monstrously gleeful speech out.
As the list drew to a close, Logan's hands busied themselves with opening one of the tins of crackers in his day pack, while his eyes glanced over to Daisuke's list, and his heart sped up considerably at the realisation of just how many people were already dead. Doubts about his cause were quickly dispelled at the thought of how lucky he was to still be alive, to not have encountered a murderous student yet. He knew then that fighting back against them wasn't even a choice any more, it was a neccessity. Sure he could tell himself he was doing good, but he'd always know that he was simulataneously increasing his own lifespan.
The morbid train of thought was interrupted by Daisuke, asking if he knew any of the killers. He'd missed it when Danya read it out, too busy with his self-absorbtion, but one name jumped right out at him. "Rob Jenkins!? That guy's on the basketball team with me! I guess... yeah, I suppose I should've expected it, actually." Oh how much he wanted to lie there, to tell Daisuke - and himself - that Rob wouldn't commit murder, that he was a good guy. But he couldn't. There had always been an edge to his pride, his outbursts of anger. Logan was shocked, but after a few moments of thought, he wasn't surprised. Other than Rob, none of the other names really meant much to Logan. Ivan and Staffan sounded familiar, probably well known for something or other, but Logan couldn't really remember what. "Nope, nobody but him, really. Some of the others sound familiar, but I can't remember why... eh, I think Kris is a chick, though."
Logan shook his head, standing up to pace around a bit, idly putting a cracker in his mouth. It tasted of... well, not much, but he was glad he even had something to eat at all. He knelt down soon after, retrieving another few of the bland biscuits, as well as a bottle of water. "What does DKH mean, anyway?" he asked, proceeding to close his daypack up. He dumped it on his bunk, and reached for his coat and hakapik, finding the former to be an unusual comfort, and the latter to be a very understandable confidence booster. He was ready to go, itching to, in fact. He wouldn't admit it unless pressed, but his fears were picking up again, and being cooped up in such a small room wasn't helping. To mitigate it, he opened the door, slinging his daypack over his shoulder, and hovering near the exit.
Several hours of sore feet and squinting eyes it took to reach somewhere they could finally call safe. Several hours of trudging through unnerving woodland - both of the intact and felled variety - with only the light of the moon and their torches to guide them. Several hours of the worst damn hike Logan had ever been on.
He'd insisted on travelling slowly and ceaselessly, too cautious to stop, too paranoid to risk missing anything on the way. One unheard snap of a twig or rustle of leaves could be enough for a nighttime hunter to get the drop on them, seize the advantage, and off them both before they had a chance to make their weapons useful. Of course, just to make Logan feel even more like an overly-paranoid wreck already, nothing out of the ordinary occured. Other than being stranded on an island with bombs on their necks, ordered to kill each other. But apparently, that was the new norm, and how easily the hapless students seemed to accept that.
After what seemed like an eternity of creeping through the wilderness, Daisuke was the one to spot the Sawmill first. A quick recon showed the place to be empty, though the main building looked like a bomb had hit it - literally. In a hushed voice, Logan wondered aloud "Reckon that's recent?", but received no response. He didn't complain, couldn't blame his companion for wanting to keep silent, or perhaps for not wanting to think about what might've happened. Eventually, the pair settled on a small bunkhouse at the outskirts, a dank little hut, but far more welcome than the outdoors, or the disconcertingly open and empty main building.
---
It wasn't the sunlight on his face that roused Logan from his fitful slumber. Without anything but guesswork to tell the time - he'd managed to leave his watch inside his own bag, which he'd left in the tunnels under the assumption Danya's people had kept it - he had no solid idea of how long he'd sat awake into the small hours of the morning, but was fairly sure it was at 4 that his body had finally told his fear-addled mind to shut up and let him sleep. The sleep was scarcely restful, and when Daisuke's yelling brought him back to the waking world, Logan felt about as tired and fatigued as he'd been when he first lay down.
But he knew, as he sat up and felt strength reluctantly returning to his muscles, he'd be fine after a few minutes. His body would, at least, blessed with the mindless stamina from his sporting career. His head, on the other hand, was still a complete mess, filled with fear and doubt. However, Logan managed to hush his thoughts for the time being, long enough to hear Danya and his monstrously gleeful speech out.
As the list drew to a close, Logan's hands busied themselves with opening one of the tins of crackers in his day pack, while his eyes glanced over to Daisuke's list, and his heart sped up considerably at the realisation of just how many people were already dead. Doubts about his cause were quickly dispelled at the thought of how lucky he was to still be alive, to not have encountered a murderous student yet. He knew then that fighting back against them wasn't even a choice any more, it was a neccessity. Sure he could tell himself he was doing good, but he'd always know that he was simulataneously increasing his own lifespan.
The morbid train of thought was interrupted by Daisuke, asking if he knew any of the killers. He'd missed it when Danya read it out, too busy with his self-absorbtion, but one name jumped right out at him. "Rob Jenkins!? That guy's on the basketball team with me! I guess... yeah, I suppose I should've expected it, actually." Oh how much he wanted to lie there, to tell Daisuke - and himself - that Rob wouldn't commit murder, that he was a good guy. But he couldn't. There had always been an edge to his pride, his outbursts of anger. Logan was shocked, but after a few moments of thought, he wasn't surprised. Other than Rob, none of the other names really meant much to Logan. Ivan and Staffan sounded familiar, probably well known for something or other, but Logan couldn't really remember what. "Nope, nobody but him, really. Some of the others sound familiar, but I can't remember why... eh, I think Kris is a chick, though."
Logan shook his head, standing up to pace around a bit, idly putting a cracker in his mouth. It tasted of... well, not much, but he was glad he even had something to eat at all. He knelt down soon after, retrieving another few of the bland biscuits, as well as a bottle of water. "What does DKH mean, anyway?" he asked, proceeding to close his daypack up. He dumped it on his bunk, and reached for his coat and hakapik, finding the former to be an unusual comfort, and the latter to be a very understandable confidence booster. He was ready to go, itching to, in fact. He wouldn't admit it unless pressed, but his fears were picking up again, and being cooped up in such a small room wasn't helping. To mitigate it, he opened the door, slinging his daypack over his shoulder, and hovering near the exit.
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((Kris Hartmann continued from Clean and Righteous))
As Kris walked further, she began to lag more and more. Her mad flights previously in the day had drained her and since then she'd been in near constant motion (asides from when she'd fainted, and lying face down in your own puke didn't count as much of a respite). She'd snatched a couple of fitful hours sleep during the night, more or less collapsing amongst the tree trunks, but had been haunted relentlessly by - "Voice. Jump. Spin. Squeeze. Bang. Dead." - among other things, including but not limited to a gigantic leech attaching itself to her back, and her arm turning into blood. As such, Kris was still exhausted and her steps were more akin to shuffles.
At the very least, she'd got a change of clothes. Amber... hadn't been as tall as Kris, and their builds were different, but what the skater had scrounged wasn't too ill-fitting. Not that you'd notice particularly, unless you were familiar with Kris' dress. She now wore a reasonably sized skirt - mid-thigh length (the jeans just hadn't worked) and a t-shirt with the logo of some online game on it. Kris hadn't exactly been able to pick and choose. It felt dirty enough, wearing a dead girl's clothes.
The announcement came and went, Kris barely paying attention save from wincing twice at the mentions of her name, proclaiming her actions to all. Kimberly's name not being there was, for the briefest instant, a relief before Kris reminded herself that she'd still shot the other girl. Not being a treble murderer wasn't through any lack of intention on her own part.
So she shuffled on, head down, paying no attention to her surroundings, gun clenched in one fist and the opposite hand clinging to the wrist in a death grip, just as before. It was near futile to try to stop that base cowardice - that selfish survival instinct from kicking in, but she had to at least try. She hated what she'd done, putting in anything less than full effort into preventing it happening again would be nothing short of evil.
Yet Kris refused to throw the gun away. A mental block, a stalwart wall of refusal, they forestalled any such action.
At length, the skater happened to glance up, only to be completely taken aback by the sight of a small cluster of buildings in front of her, along with a much larger complex a short distance away, blasted with the ravages of some sort of explosion. The door of one of the clusters was open, and Kris pulled up short as she stared into the opening. She could have sworn she saw movement.
They knew... they would all know.
But... good. Kris didn't deserve to hide from her murders. She deserved to be punished for them.
That's what her heart told her. That's what most of her head told her. But in some secret, walled off section, a little part denied it again and again and again. No punishment, no redemption. Just... survival.
Kris wanted that little part of her dead.
Quelling the instant desire to raise her weapon, Kris stood there outside of the building, looking pale, drawn and downright sickly... but at least non mud-spattered, like before. It was a minor improvement on 'utterly awful'. Kris waited... and she hoped desperately that she could control herself.
Impossibility. smile
As Kris walked further, she began to lag more and more. Her mad flights previously in the day had drained her and since then she'd been in near constant motion (asides from when she'd fainted, and lying face down in your own puke didn't count as much of a respite). She'd snatched a couple of fitful hours sleep during the night, more or less collapsing amongst the tree trunks, but had been haunted relentlessly by - "Voice. Jump. Spin. Squeeze. Bang. Dead." - among other things, including but not limited to a gigantic leech attaching itself to her back, and her arm turning into blood. As such, Kris was still exhausted and her steps were more akin to shuffles.
At the very least, she'd got a change of clothes. Amber... hadn't been as tall as Kris, and their builds were different, but what the skater had scrounged wasn't too ill-fitting. Not that you'd notice particularly, unless you were familiar with Kris' dress. She now wore a reasonably sized skirt - mid-thigh length (the jeans just hadn't worked) and a t-shirt with the logo of some online game on it. Kris hadn't exactly been able to pick and choose. It felt dirty enough, wearing a dead girl's clothes.
The announcement came and went, Kris barely paying attention save from wincing twice at the mentions of her name, proclaiming her actions to all. Kimberly's name not being there was, for the briefest instant, a relief before Kris reminded herself that she'd still shot the other girl. Not being a treble murderer wasn't through any lack of intention on her own part.
So she shuffled on, head down, paying no attention to her surroundings, gun clenched in one fist and the opposite hand clinging to the wrist in a death grip, just as before. It was near futile to try to stop that base cowardice - that selfish survival instinct from kicking in, but she had to at least try. She hated what she'd done, putting in anything less than full effort into preventing it happening again would be nothing short of evil.
Yet Kris refused to throw the gun away. A mental block, a stalwart wall of refusal, they forestalled any such action.
At length, the skater happened to glance up, only to be completely taken aback by the sight of a small cluster of buildings in front of her, along with a much larger complex a short distance away, blasted with the ravages of some sort of explosion. The door of one of the clusters was open, and Kris pulled up short as she stared into the opening. She could have sworn she saw movement.
They knew... they would all know.
But... good. Kris didn't deserve to hide from her murders. She deserved to be punished for them.
That's what her heart told her. That's what most of her head told her. But in some secret, walled off section, a little part denied it again and again and again. No punishment, no redemption. Just... survival.
Kris wanted that little part of her dead.
Quelling the instant desire to raise her weapon, Kris stood there outside of the building, looking pale, drawn and downright sickly... but at least non mud-spattered, like before. It was a minor improvement on 'utterly awful'. Kris waited... and she hoped desperately that she could control herself.
Impossibility. smile
"Rob Jenkins!? That guy's on the basketball team with me! I guess... yeah, I suppose I should've expected it, actually." Logan had seemed shocked at first to find someone he knew so well on the list, and yet he soon had come to terms with the idea. The surprise for Daisuke was how easily he accepted the fact, not even bothering to make an excuse for his wayward teammate. If that was the case, what did that say about this Rob kid? Could be dangerous.
Logan looked over the rest of the list, pausing as his eyes reviewed a few names that seemed somewhat familiar before returning the notebook to Daisuke. "Nope, nobody but him, really. Some of the others sound familiar, but I can't remember why... eh, I think Kris is a chick, though."
Kris Hartmann. Don't know him. HER. Gun. II
Daisuke clicked his pen shut and stuck it into the open page as a bookmark for their hit list...
This is really happening, isn't it. Daisuke paused, staring at the cover of his notebook as he thought to himself. For the first time since they had come up with their plan, Daisuke was beginning to realize exactly what he had signed up to do. It had all been under the guise of protecting the innocents and simply making it easier for others to survive, but they were still about to collaborate in murder.
Was murder still murder even if it was for heroic reasons? Would Daisuke be able to pull the trigger when it all came down to it? In the heat of the moment and his anger the plan had seemed like a good idea, but second thoughts were creeping into his mind. A niggling fear tugged at the back of his mind: He was only doing this to save himself.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he pushed those fears back into the dark recesses of his mind. No, he was doing the right thing. THEY were doing the right thing. Players were scum that preyed upon the weak, and someone had to stand up to them. Yes. That's exactly what they were doing.
"What does DKH mean, anyway?" Logan asked after he had munched on a few of his crackers.
"Oh, I just got tired of writing 'Don't know him or her' for every name." Daisuke answered, just as a thought dawned on him.
"Actually, I don't know why I bothered writing it, seeing as how I know like 0 percent of the student body." he said with a wry grin. He had been so caught up in cataloging the killers of the island he hadn't really stopped to think about what he was writing. The only one he'd ended up knowing was Reiko, and even then he was hesitant to actually label her a player.
"The only person I think I recognize on the list is Reiko Ishida... and as odd as it sounds, I'm not entirely sure if she's a killer yet. The announcement said that her sister was killed, maybe her kills were related?"
Daisuke sighed in disgust soon after uttering those words. Even to him it sounded like he was grasping for straws in Reiko's defense. He honestly didn't even know the girl that well, but because she was the only name he'd recognized, he subconsciously felt like he needed to defend her. "I mean, I don't know, I wasn't really paying much attention to the actual deaths, only the killers."
Daisuke threw his unzipped duffel bag onto his bunk bed and tossed the notebook inside before collecting a few wayward items from the floor of the hut. He wrapped the remaining bit of his first loaf of bread in the plastic bag it came in, tying it tightly in the hopes of preserving it for as long as necessary before tossing it in. He then pulled out what remained of his first water bottle and finished it off as he walked around the room looking for anything else he was missing. He passed the door just as Logan had opened it and casually glanced outside, noticing a figure approaching the hut. Thinking nothing of it, he crossed the threshold of the doorway as he finished off the last of his water, throwing the empty bottle into his bag for use later.
"Hey, who's that outside?" Daisuke asked Logan with drowsy complacency as he zipped up his bag, just as the realization THAT SOMEONE WAS THERE sunk in.
"Holy shit!" He exclaimed as he realized exactly what he had seen. There was someone out there, staring inside from a short distance away. Someone knew they were there.
Daisuke quickly drew his gun from his inner coat pocket, fumbling with the safety for a brief moment before leaping to take point on the cusp of the doorway across from where Logan was hovering.
"Dude!" Daisuke whispered tersely to his partner in crime from across the open doorway, his back against the wall as he tried to carefully peer around the corner for a better view of their possible assailant. "Dude, who is that?!"
Logan looked over the rest of the list, pausing as his eyes reviewed a few names that seemed somewhat familiar before returning the notebook to Daisuke. "Nope, nobody but him, really. Some of the others sound familiar, but I can't remember why... eh, I think Kris is a chick, though."
Kris Hartmann. Don't know him. HER. Gun. II
Daisuke clicked his pen shut and stuck it into the open page as a bookmark for their hit list...
This is really happening, isn't it. Daisuke paused, staring at the cover of his notebook as he thought to himself. For the first time since they had come up with their plan, Daisuke was beginning to realize exactly what he had signed up to do. It had all been under the guise of protecting the innocents and simply making it easier for others to survive, but they were still about to collaborate in murder.
Was murder still murder even if it was for heroic reasons? Would Daisuke be able to pull the trigger when it all came down to it? In the heat of the moment and his anger the plan had seemed like a good idea, but second thoughts were creeping into his mind. A niggling fear tugged at the back of his mind: He was only doing this to save himself.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he pushed those fears back into the dark recesses of his mind. No, he was doing the right thing. THEY were doing the right thing. Players were scum that preyed upon the weak, and someone had to stand up to them. Yes. That's exactly what they were doing.
"What does DKH mean, anyway?" Logan asked after he had munched on a few of his crackers.
"Oh, I just got tired of writing 'Don't know him or her' for every name." Daisuke answered, just as a thought dawned on him.
"Actually, I don't know why I bothered writing it, seeing as how I know like 0 percent of the student body." he said with a wry grin. He had been so caught up in cataloging the killers of the island he hadn't really stopped to think about what he was writing. The only one he'd ended up knowing was Reiko, and even then he was hesitant to actually label her a player.
"The only person I think I recognize on the list is Reiko Ishida... and as odd as it sounds, I'm not entirely sure if she's a killer yet. The announcement said that her sister was killed, maybe her kills were related?"
Daisuke sighed in disgust soon after uttering those words. Even to him it sounded like he was grasping for straws in Reiko's defense. He honestly didn't even know the girl that well, but because she was the only name he'd recognized, he subconsciously felt like he needed to defend her. "I mean, I don't know, I wasn't really paying much attention to the actual deaths, only the killers."
Daisuke threw his unzipped duffel bag onto his bunk bed and tossed the notebook inside before collecting a few wayward items from the floor of the hut. He wrapped the remaining bit of his first loaf of bread in the plastic bag it came in, tying it tightly in the hopes of preserving it for as long as necessary before tossing it in. He then pulled out what remained of his first water bottle and finished it off as he walked around the room looking for anything else he was missing. He passed the door just as Logan had opened it and casually glanced outside, noticing a figure approaching the hut. Thinking nothing of it, he crossed the threshold of the doorway as he finished off the last of his water, throwing the empty bottle into his bag for use later.
"Hey, who's that outside?" Daisuke asked Logan with drowsy complacency as he zipped up his bag, just as the realization THAT SOMEONE WAS THERE sunk in.
"Holy shit!" He exclaimed as he realized exactly what he had seen. There was someone out there, staring inside from a short distance away. Someone knew they were there.
Daisuke quickly drew his gun from his inner coat pocket, fumbling with the safety for a brief moment before leaping to take point on the cusp of the doorway across from where Logan was hovering.
"Dude!" Daisuke whispered tersely to his partner in crime from across the open doorway, his back against the wall as he tried to carefully peer around the corner for a better view of their possible assailant. "Dude, who is that?!"
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Wait, what? All it had taken was for Logan to just open a door in the morning, keen to get moving, and pow, there was someone out there. He flattened himself against the wall, inches from the threshold. Waiting for them? Doubtful, they'd probably just arrived at a massively coincidental time. But thinking it through, could Logan really put it down to coincidence? They were in a literal deathtrap, and they themselves were meant to be the hazards, why should he assume this newcomer wasn't waiting for them, maybe hoping to salve his or her conscience by at least giving the two of them a fighting chance?
With a terse "I'm thinking about this too much," Logan turned so that his body faced Daisuke, and give him a safe-ish angle to peer out of the doorway. Not the most terrifying sight he'd ever seen, but could be a lot better as well as worse. The girl out there was pretty much unrecognisable, though Logan did find something about her familiar. It was hard to tell with her looking so bedraggled, and ironically obscured by the glare of the morning sun. Logan's eyes also told him that she looked decidedly awkward in the clothes she was wearing, but his brain didn't register it, too busy realising that she had a gun in her hand. He flattened himself against the wall again, not wanting to think what could happen if she just shot clean through the aged wood. "She's armed, guess that makes it almost fair, eh?"
With a terse "I'm thinking about this too much," Logan turned so that his body faced Daisuke, and give him a safe-ish angle to peer out of the doorway. Not the most terrifying sight he'd ever seen, but could be a lot better as well as worse. The girl out there was pretty much unrecognisable, though Logan did find something about her familiar. It was hard to tell with her looking so bedraggled, and ironically obscured by the glare of the morning sun. Logan's eyes also told him that she looked decidedly awkward in the clothes she was wearing, but his brain didn't register it, too busy realising that she had a gun in her hand. He flattened himself against the wall again, not wanting to think what could happen if she just shot clean through the aged wood. "She's armed, guess that makes it almost fair, eh?"
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Kris stood stock still for a long couple of moments, just watching the doorway, straining for a glimpse of anybody inside of the building. She'd certainly seen something in there and it bore investigation. Part of her was, as one would cajole a small child, trying to gently lead her away, telling her that she could just live and let live. Actual interactions with others had involved little in the way of conversation and a lot in the way of guns...
Yet... there were people she cared about out there. Granted, she'd already bailed out on two of them, but... but she hadn't had it together then. She still didn't, really, but at the least she could force herself to be calm. ...Maybe. Yet... after what she'd done, how could she face up to Etain? Kris hadn't been able to do that when he'd ran into her in the swamp, now that he knew for certain... and after Amber...
The skater shook her head to the side to snap herself out of it. Wrenching herself from her thoughts was difficult, everything seeming little more than a mire of guilt and flashes of the memories of her transgressions. Still staring at the building, Kris, through great force of will, stopped herself from levelling her gun 'just in case'.
Just in case? Just in case a good shot appears. Aim close, no wavering. Point and shot. Point and shoot... No. Can't. Won't. Leave it. Leave. It.
"Is... somebody there?" Kris called out, still looking at the doorway. She wanted to add 'Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt anybody'. But, well... Chances were, they already knew what she'd done.
All that remained was the consequences.
Yet... there were people she cared about out there. Granted, she'd already bailed out on two of them, but... but she hadn't had it together then. She still didn't, really, but at the least she could force herself to be calm. ...Maybe. Yet... after what she'd done, how could she face up to Etain? Kris hadn't been able to do that when he'd ran into her in the swamp, now that he knew for certain... and after Amber...
The skater shook her head to the side to snap herself out of it. Wrenching herself from her thoughts was difficult, everything seeming little more than a mire of guilt and flashes of the memories of her transgressions. Still staring at the building, Kris, through great force of will, stopped herself from levelling her gun 'just in case'.
Just in case? Just in case a good shot appears. Aim close, no wavering. Point and shot. Point and shoot... No. Can't. Won't. Leave it. Leave. It.
"Is... somebody there?" Kris called out, still looking at the doorway. She wanted to add 'Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt anybody'. But, well... Chances were, they already knew what she'd done.
All that remained was the consequences.
Daisuke watched in silence as Logan leaned out and peered out the doorway. The fact that they'd been caught off guard scared the shit out of him. His heart was racing with anticipation as Logan ducked back into position.
"She's armed, guess that makes it almost fair, eh?"
She? Armed? Armed with what? Daisuke needed to know. He quickly peaked out beyond the frame of the door to get at least some kind of info on their possible assailant. With the sun behind her it was tough to get a good look at her face, but he probably wouldn't have recognized her anyway. But yeah, she was armed alright. She had a gun. Whether that made her a threat or simply just a lucky survivor was yet to be determined.
"Oh yeah, thats totally fair game, as long as she doesn't start shooting at us." Daisuke quipped under his breath back to Logan. "Hell, I'm happy for her. It probably means that she can take care of herself when we send her packing, whoever she is."
Daisuke gripped the pistol in his hands tightly as he listened for any sound of approach from the girl. He didn't want to scare the girl by needlessly brandishing his own weapon in front of her, but the fact that she had a gun was unnerving to say the least. He hoped that she wouldn't start shooting. As long as she didn't do that or try to come inside, he wouldn't have to use his gun until they found someone truly worthy of punishment. For all he knew, this girl was just an innocent victim of circumstances.
"Is... somebody there?" She called to them, still standing in place outside. Apparently she hadn't lost interest in their little hideout. It probably didn't help that both of them had tried to sneak a peek at the girl. Hell, it hadn't helped that the door was open in the first place, but Dai couldn't fault Logan for that. Besides, he was the one stupid enough to just walk on by the open door, so she probably knew someone was there already.
"Dude, you take this one." Daisuke whispered, deferring to his teammate to take the lead. He wasn't eager to be the face of their little team, mostly since no one knew who he was. At least Logan was recognizable. Maybe that would work to their advantage. "Maybe you'll have better luck with her than I did at the mansion."
"She's armed, guess that makes it almost fair, eh?"
She? Armed? Armed with what? Daisuke needed to know. He quickly peaked out beyond the frame of the door to get at least some kind of info on their possible assailant. With the sun behind her it was tough to get a good look at her face, but he probably wouldn't have recognized her anyway. But yeah, she was armed alright. She had a gun. Whether that made her a threat or simply just a lucky survivor was yet to be determined.
"Oh yeah, thats totally fair game, as long as she doesn't start shooting at us." Daisuke quipped under his breath back to Logan. "Hell, I'm happy for her. It probably means that she can take care of herself when we send her packing, whoever she is."
Daisuke gripped the pistol in his hands tightly as he listened for any sound of approach from the girl. He didn't want to scare the girl by needlessly brandishing his own weapon in front of her, but the fact that she had a gun was unnerving to say the least. He hoped that she wouldn't start shooting. As long as she didn't do that or try to come inside, he wouldn't have to use his gun until they found someone truly worthy of punishment. For all he knew, this girl was just an innocent victim of circumstances.
"Is... somebody there?" She called to them, still standing in place outside. Apparently she hadn't lost interest in their little hideout. It probably didn't help that both of them had tried to sneak a peek at the girl. Hell, it hadn't helped that the door was open in the first place, but Dai couldn't fault Logan for that. Besides, he was the one stupid enough to just walk on by the open door, so she probably knew someone was there already.
"Dude, you take this one." Daisuke whispered, deferring to his teammate to take the lead. He wasn't eager to be the face of their little team, mostly since no one knew who he was. At least Logan was recognizable. Maybe that would work to their advantage. "Maybe you'll have better luck with her than I did at the mansion."
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"Oh yeah, thats totally fair game, as long as she doesn't start shooting at us."
"Fair game? I meant a fair fight, but I guess that's true too..." was Logan's response to the snarky reply, trailing off at the end as he realised fairness was hardly the number one priority on anyone's mind. Not even his own, really, having had time to realise just how stupid a thing it had been to say in the first place. The girl had a gun. A weapon capable of ending a life in less than a second, with a good shot. Capable of ending a life slowly and painfully with a slightly worse shot, too. Not a good thing to be "fair" with.
"Hell, I'm happy for her. It probably means that she can take care of herself when we send her packing, whoever she is."
Heartless, but true. Unless of course, Kris would rather send the two of them on their way. Logan couldn't speak for anyone else, but he knew he wouldn't be much use if a firefight broke out, being not only a decidedly large target, but one that would have to run straight at the shooter to fight back. Sure he had some agility, fancy footwork learned on the basketball and tennis courts, but dodging bullets? Never. Even if he thought he could, he wouldn't take the risk. So with that in mind, and with a slight mocking tone in the paraphrasing, he replied "Yeah, I'm totally happy for her, as long as she doesn't start shooting at us."
"Is... somebody there?"
"Dude, you take this one. Maybe you'll have better luck with her than I did at the mansion."
Oh, laser-guided karma, such a fantastic time to strike. Scowling as he recalled the events of the previous day, where the mansion-guy... Logan had forgotten his name, or maybe he hadn't been told at all... had obviously been addressing Daisuke anyway. Was he still bitter about that, even though, as far as Logan was concerned at least, it wasn't his decision? Oh well, he did make a good point about not being the friendliest face to slap on a handgun and a hakapik, and that Daisuke himself hadn't been particularly successful yesterday. Even Logan, with his mixed reputation, at least had a reputation of any kind, and if the newcomer knew of him, she'd probably know he was essentially considered a good guy, if incredibly annoying at times.
He'd have to count on that, then. And hope that she knew he didn't lie about anything, for in a standoff, doubt's a powerful enemy to fight. "Two of us." he began, leaning closer to the threshold to let his voice carry better, but not nearly close enough to expose his head. "We're armed, and we know you are, so... let's not kill each other? 'Cause, y'know, not being dead is probably the best bit of my day.". A little dry humour, risky perhaps, if she took offense to the levity, but might pay off if it inspired some trust. Logan held out hope for the latter, in spite of the usual result sarcasm has in tense situations...
"Fair game? I meant a fair fight, but I guess that's true too..." was Logan's response to the snarky reply, trailing off at the end as he realised fairness was hardly the number one priority on anyone's mind. Not even his own, really, having had time to realise just how stupid a thing it had been to say in the first place. The girl had a gun. A weapon capable of ending a life in less than a second, with a good shot. Capable of ending a life slowly and painfully with a slightly worse shot, too. Not a good thing to be "fair" with.
"Hell, I'm happy for her. It probably means that she can take care of herself when we send her packing, whoever she is."
Heartless, but true. Unless of course, Kris would rather send the two of them on their way. Logan couldn't speak for anyone else, but he knew he wouldn't be much use if a firefight broke out, being not only a decidedly large target, but one that would have to run straight at the shooter to fight back. Sure he had some agility, fancy footwork learned on the basketball and tennis courts, but dodging bullets? Never. Even if he thought he could, he wouldn't take the risk. So with that in mind, and with a slight mocking tone in the paraphrasing, he replied "Yeah, I'm totally happy for her, as long as she doesn't start shooting at us."
"Is... somebody there?"
"Dude, you take this one. Maybe you'll have better luck with her than I did at the mansion."
Oh, laser-guided karma, such a fantastic time to strike. Scowling as he recalled the events of the previous day, where the mansion-guy... Logan had forgotten his name, or maybe he hadn't been told at all... had obviously been addressing Daisuke anyway. Was he still bitter about that, even though, as far as Logan was concerned at least, it wasn't his decision? Oh well, he did make a good point about not being the friendliest face to slap on a handgun and a hakapik, and that Daisuke himself hadn't been particularly successful yesterday. Even Logan, with his mixed reputation, at least had a reputation of any kind, and if the newcomer knew of him, she'd probably know he was essentially considered a good guy, if incredibly annoying at times.
He'd have to count on that, then. And hope that she knew he didn't lie about anything, for in a standoff, doubt's a powerful enemy to fight. "Two of us." he began, leaning closer to the threshold to let his voice carry better, but not nearly close enough to expose his head. "We're armed, and we know you are, so... let's not kill each other? 'Cause, y'know, not being dead is probably the best bit of my day.". A little dry humour, risky perhaps, if she took offense to the levity, but might pay off if it inspired some trust. Logan held out hope for the latter, in spite of the usual result sarcasm has in tense situations...
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((R.J. Lowe continued from Mad World))
How long had it been?
His feet sore from the treacherous terrain to the south, R.J. wondered how long it had been since he'd left the site of Eva Lancaster's final moments. Was it hours ago? Days? (It had, in fact, been seventeen minutes, but that would hardly be his first guess.) All he knew was that he was tired. Tired, and hungry. He'd been awake since he came to on the island, though it wasn't the longest he'd been without sleep. He hadn't stopped to eat or drink, either, however, and that was somewhat more problematic. The sawmill up ahead seemed as good a spot as any to rest. It was a sawmill, right? Smelled like a sawmill, at least. He approached, set his bag down, and took a seat against the outer wall. He reached toward his hip to set the gun down at his side, before realizing he'd never let go of it. Huh. Really has become part of me, hasn't it? Regardless, he laid it by his side, then reached into his bag to retrieve something to eat... only to notice his palms had been bleeding.
Christ, am I that out of it?
He went instead for the first aid kit, proceeding to open it up, haphazardly bandaging both hands. Close enough. Now, he could focus on eating. Searching his issued rations, he found little more than bread and water. Oh, for the love of... you're gonna make me waste my bullets if I want meat? Really? He sighed, before taking a bite out of the bread. He'd have to be careful not to go too crazy, like he usually did. He really didn't have the metabolism for so little food.
As he chewed on his first meal of the day, he heard voices coming from inside the building, not really able to discern what they were saying, but then, not particularly caring, either. Let them sort it out amongst themselves. They sound calm enough that I shouldn't need to step in.
How long had it been?
His feet sore from the treacherous terrain to the south, R.J. wondered how long it had been since he'd left the site of Eva Lancaster's final moments. Was it hours ago? Days? (It had, in fact, been seventeen minutes, but that would hardly be his first guess.) All he knew was that he was tired. Tired, and hungry. He'd been awake since he came to on the island, though it wasn't the longest he'd been without sleep. He hadn't stopped to eat or drink, either, however, and that was somewhat more problematic. The sawmill up ahead seemed as good a spot as any to rest. It was a sawmill, right? Smelled like a sawmill, at least. He approached, set his bag down, and took a seat against the outer wall. He reached toward his hip to set the gun down at his side, before realizing he'd never let go of it. Huh. Really has become part of me, hasn't it? Regardless, he laid it by his side, then reached into his bag to retrieve something to eat... only to notice his palms had been bleeding.
Christ, am I that out of it?
He went instead for the first aid kit, proceeding to open it up, haphazardly bandaging both hands. Close enough. Now, he could focus on eating. Searching his issued rations, he found little more than bread and water. Oh, for the love of... you're gonna make me waste my bullets if I want meat? Really? He sighed, before taking a bite out of the bread. He'd have to be careful not to go too crazy, like he usually did. He really didn't have the metabolism for so little food.
As he chewed on his first meal of the day, he heard voices coming from inside the building, not really able to discern what they were saying, but then, not particularly caring, either. Let them sort it out amongst themselves. They sound calm enough that I shouldn't need to step in.
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Somebody called out to her. Kris had seen figures next to the door and though they were in shadow now (or perhaps behind the door frame entirely), they had to have spotted her too. Which meant... which meant, well... they didn't know her.
Hidden, deception. ...Lies.
...She couldn't duck this. She wouldn't duck this. Revelling in anonymity was the smart thing to do, yeah. It was also the 'murderer' thing to do. Skirt the consequences, avoid the repercussions and steal trust away from others. Part of her couldn't believe that she was even considering revealing what she'd done when she'd had the fortune to run into somebody that didn't know her. At the same time, Kris was well aware that the protestations... were coming from the part that had pulled the trigger in the first place.
Kris had to face up.
She looked down to her feet, then up again. Strangely, she had a smile on her face. "Do you know who I am?" her hands, free and clutching a gun respectively, trembled. "My name is Kristina Hartmann. I'm damned and condemned and..." she closed her eyes, breathed. "I'll do my best to... make sure that you are too," she opened them again. "I m-m-murrrdered two people. Y-you'll be next."
Truth. The little thought... spring from its corner. Instinct. smiile. This is who she is. That is who she is. Kris. Mördare.
And she wanted to shoot. She truly, truly wanted to. Except that she didn't at the same time. Survival and morality. Kris had felt that she'd already slipped over the precipice, but for her words, she was still clinging onto the edge with a grim determination. Those guys... they couldn't remain close, because the longer they stuck around, the more Kris would be tempted to do... to do.. to do the smart thing and start firing. Kris hoped against hope that her words had put a scare into the two guys.
...She had far too good an idea what would happen if they hadn't.
Kris' finger hovered on the trigger.
D-d-d-don't. Voice. Jump. Spin. Squeeze. Bang. Dead. "Thanks for tha night, Kris." ...Etain. Sincere smile. "If you're going to shoot then sho-". Trigger, scream. Blood. Flee. Alive. Matter? No. Deep crimson tentacles wind around the hand... "Don't leave me!". Boom. "MOMMY IT HURTS!"... weak...
Hidden, deception. ...Lies.
...She couldn't duck this. She wouldn't duck this. Revelling in anonymity was the smart thing to do, yeah. It was also the 'murderer' thing to do. Skirt the consequences, avoid the repercussions and steal trust away from others. Part of her couldn't believe that she was even considering revealing what she'd done when she'd had the fortune to run into somebody that didn't know her. At the same time, Kris was well aware that the protestations... were coming from the part that had pulled the trigger in the first place.
Kris had to face up.
She looked down to her feet, then up again. Strangely, she had a smile on her face. "Do you know who I am?" her hands, free and clutching a gun respectively, trembled. "My name is Kristina Hartmann. I'm damned and condemned and..." she closed her eyes, breathed. "I'll do my best to... make sure that you are too," she opened them again. "I m-m-murrrdered two people. Y-you'll be next."
Truth. The little thought... spring from its corner. Instinct. smiile. This is who she is. That is who she is. Kris. Mördare.
And she wanted to shoot. She truly, truly wanted to. Except that she didn't at the same time. Survival and morality. Kris had felt that she'd already slipped over the precipice, but for her words, she was still clinging onto the edge with a grim determination. Those guys... they couldn't remain close, because the longer they stuck around, the more Kris would be tempted to do... to do.. to do the smart thing and start firing. Kris hoped against hope that her words had put a scare into the two guys.
...She had far too good an idea what would happen if they hadn't.
Kris' finger hovered on the trigger.
D-d-d-don't. Voice. Jump. Spin. Squeeze. Bang. Dead. "Thanks for tha night, Kris." ...Etain. Sincere smile. "If you're going to shoot then sho-". Trigger, scream. Blood. Flee. Alive. Matter? No. Deep crimson tentacles wind around the hand... "Don't leave me!". Boom. "MOMMY IT HURTS!"... weak...
Logan didn't seem too pleased about being put into the spotlight, but he played the part well with a mix of sincerity and dry humor. Sure the situation was tense, but maybe once the girl outside learned that they were the good guys, she might feel at ease and leave them alone.
Instead, the girl asked them a simple question.
"Do you know who I am?"
Daisuke wished he could see what she looked like right now and read her body language. Something about her statement seemed off without it, as if he was watching a music video on mute. He couldn't get the whole story from her voice alone.
"My name is Kristina Hartmann."
Daisuke's eyes widened in shock. He recognized that name.
Kris Hartmann. Don't know him. HER. Gun. II
Murderer...
"I'm damned and condemned and... I'll do my best to... make sure that you are too." She said. It seemed almost as if she was struggling with those statements. Did she really mean to kill them, or was she just trying to sound tough?
"I m-m-murrrdered two people. Y-you'll be next." She continued. Was she just trying to scare them? Granted, it was working; Daisuke was terrified. His heart raced as adrenalin coursed through his veins, telling him to either fight or run as fast as he could away from the danger. She was a killer. She was a player. They were trapped.
And yet, she sounded so nervous. He had expected that someone who had killed two people already would have sounded more confident in their abilities, or at least a little more psychotic. He had to see how she carried herself to know if her threats were real. If she didn't seem confident, maybe there was hope they could work things out without having to resort to murder.
"I'm going to take a quick peek." Daisuke whispered to Logan, not waiting for his answer before nodding resolutely to himself and turning ever so slightly towards the open doorway, leaning his head out over the threshold of the frame and peaked outside. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as Daisuke moved, allowing him to grasp every detail that he would see in those few seconds.
There she was, her ill-fitting clothes an odd juxtaposition with her boyish short hair and pretty face.
Her gun was in her hands.
Her finger was on the trigger.
And she was smiling.
"Fuck..."
Instead, the girl asked them a simple question.
"Do you know who I am?"
Daisuke wished he could see what she looked like right now and read her body language. Something about her statement seemed off without it, as if he was watching a music video on mute. He couldn't get the whole story from her voice alone.
"My name is Kristina Hartmann."
Daisuke's eyes widened in shock. He recognized that name.
Kris Hartmann. Don't know him. HER. Gun. II
Murderer...
"I'm damned and condemned and... I'll do my best to... make sure that you are too." She said. It seemed almost as if she was struggling with those statements. Did she really mean to kill them, or was she just trying to sound tough?
"I m-m-murrrdered two people. Y-you'll be next." She continued. Was she just trying to scare them? Granted, it was working; Daisuke was terrified. His heart raced as adrenalin coursed through his veins, telling him to either fight or run as fast as he could away from the danger. She was a killer. She was a player. They were trapped.
And yet, she sounded so nervous. He had expected that someone who had killed two people already would have sounded more confident in their abilities, or at least a little more psychotic. He had to see how she carried herself to know if her threats were real. If she didn't seem confident, maybe there was hope they could work things out without having to resort to murder.
"I'm going to take a quick peek." Daisuke whispered to Logan, not waiting for his answer before nodding resolutely to himself and turning ever so slightly towards the open doorway, leaning his head out over the threshold of the frame and peaked outside. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as Daisuke moved, allowing him to grasp every detail that he would see in those few seconds.
There she was, her ill-fitting clothes an odd juxtaposition with her boyish short hair and pretty face.
Her gun was in her hands.
Her finger was on the trigger.
And she was smiling.
"Fuck..."
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Well damn, one of the "two-kill club" members, as Danya so eloquently labelled them, had come to them. Saved hunting them down, but... so much for having any kind of advantage. Couldn't even claim home ground advantage, as the pair had spent no more than 30 minutes awake in the bunkhouse.
What it also spared them, or at least spared Logan, was the difficulty of choice. On the first day, with the memory of the auditorium and Danya's smug introduction raw in his mind, Logan had been understandably infuriated. When he woke up in a pitch-black tunnel, alone, with nothing but his fortuitious research to tell him there was a flashlight in his bag - that he had a bag at all, even - his anger at Danya and the entire program itself had only grown. Without thinking it through at all, he'd hastened to make a partnership, to agree on taking out players, to try to stop the game from progressing to it's usual end. He hadn't thought it through at all, he'd just spoken and felt, and never stopped to consider what it meant.
The first night undid all of that. Sure he'd read a lot of crime novels, seen a lot of action films, agreed that the gunpoint-justice dispensing heroes were awesome. What he hadn't done is killed anyone himself. Given the choice between "justice" and mercy after hunting a person down, Logan was quite sure he wouldn't have the guts for the former. Kris had just taken that choice away, and in an odd way, he was grateful. He wouldn't feel as guilty, if he somehow came out victorious. He wouldn't have as much trouble a second time. He'd mourn the loss of humanity, but he'd be glad for it.
"Fuck..."
"That bad, huh?" Logan replied, concern crossing his already troubled features. If the two of them were confident and concentrated, maybe they had a shot, but if Daisuke was scared...
Logan adopted a hushed tone, awkward for even Daisuke to hear. "I'd love to say 'we had a good run', but since we've achieved fuck all so far..." he began, not really caring if his rhetorical question had been replied to. "I really can't say it. So here's the plan."
Logan took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to suggest. In an even quieter whisper, to be doubly sure it wasn't overheard "Give me the gun, I'm gonna go out there. With any luck, if we look and sound as serious as she does, we might all come out of this alive."
Releasing the breath, the lanky boy stared at Daisuke. His hands trembled, his jaw refused to settle, but his eyes were set in stone; he was serious. Deadly serious. The look essentially said all that Logan did a few seconds later. "This is pretty much the only option, unless you have a better plan. I don't want to kill her, and I don't want to die, but I don't see any other choices."
What it also spared them, or at least spared Logan, was the difficulty of choice. On the first day, with the memory of the auditorium and Danya's smug introduction raw in his mind, Logan had been understandably infuriated. When he woke up in a pitch-black tunnel, alone, with nothing but his fortuitious research to tell him there was a flashlight in his bag - that he had a bag at all, even - his anger at Danya and the entire program itself had only grown. Without thinking it through at all, he'd hastened to make a partnership, to agree on taking out players, to try to stop the game from progressing to it's usual end. He hadn't thought it through at all, he'd just spoken and felt, and never stopped to consider what it meant.
The first night undid all of that. Sure he'd read a lot of crime novels, seen a lot of action films, agreed that the gunpoint-justice dispensing heroes were awesome. What he hadn't done is killed anyone himself. Given the choice between "justice" and mercy after hunting a person down, Logan was quite sure he wouldn't have the guts for the former. Kris had just taken that choice away, and in an odd way, he was grateful. He wouldn't feel as guilty, if he somehow came out victorious. He wouldn't have as much trouble a second time. He'd mourn the loss of humanity, but he'd be glad for it.
"Fuck..."
"That bad, huh?" Logan replied, concern crossing his already troubled features. If the two of them were confident and concentrated, maybe they had a shot, but if Daisuke was scared...
Logan adopted a hushed tone, awkward for even Daisuke to hear. "I'd love to say 'we had a good run', but since we've achieved fuck all so far..." he began, not really caring if his rhetorical question had been replied to. "I really can't say it. So here's the plan."
Logan took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to suggest. In an even quieter whisper, to be doubly sure it wasn't overheard "Give me the gun, I'm gonna go out there. With any luck, if we look and sound as serious as she does, we might all come out of this alive."
Releasing the breath, the lanky boy stared at Daisuke. His hands trembled, his jaw refused to settle, but his eyes were set in stone; he was serious. Deadly serious. The look essentially said all that Logan did a few seconds later. "This is pretty much the only option, unless you have a better plan. I don't want to kill her, and I don't want to die, but I don't see any other choices."
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Finishing up his meal, R.J. stood, zipped up his pack and slung it back over his shoulder, then grabbed the gun. Figuring he'd check out inside the mill, see if it was anyone he knew in there, he started around the building toward the front. He was down to the side wall, when he heard a new voice. And what he heard was a voice he definitely recognized. "I m-m-murrrdered two people. Y-you'll be next."
Oh, hell. Guess I found you after all, didn't I?
Chambering the next round, he moved quickly and quietly around the side, both hands on the gun and ready to fire at a moment's notice. He poked his head around the corner. That was Kris, alright. Different clothes, ones that didn't really suit her, but he sure as hell couldn't forget that face. That... smile? Was she threatening to kill them with a smile on her face? Was she really that far gone? That's a silly question. She's murdered two people already, hasn't she? This shit again? R.J. shook his head. Why did it have to come to this so soon? It may be too late for her, Robert, but you can still protect those inside. Yeah? And how do you think I should do that? I think you already know the answer to that. By any means necessary.
...So be it, I guess.
Rounding the corner, R.J. raised his weapon, aimed directly at Kris. He'd give her every opportunity to disarm and go quietly, but if it came to that, he'd do what he had to. Silently, he made his approach. No backing down. Not this time.
He came to within 10 yards of her, then proceeded to loudly clear his throat, making his presence known on his terms.
Oh, hell. Guess I found you after all, didn't I?
Chambering the next round, he moved quickly and quietly around the side, both hands on the gun and ready to fire at a moment's notice. He poked his head around the corner. That was Kris, alright. Different clothes, ones that didn't really suit her, but he sure as hell couldn't forget that face. That... smile? Was she threatening to kill them with a smile on her face? Was she really that far gone? That's a silly question. She's murdered two people already, hasn't she? This shit again? R.J. shook his head. Why did it have to come to this so soon? It may be too late for her, Robert, but you can still protect those inside. Yeah? And how do you think I should do that? I think you already know the answer to that. By any means necessary.
...So be it, I guess.
Rounding the corner, R.J. raised his weapon, aimed directly at Kris. He'd give her every opportunity to disarm and go quietly, but if it came to that, he'd do what he had to. Silently, he made his approach. No backing down. Not this time.
He came to within 10 yards of her, then proceeded to loudly clear his throat, making his presence known on his terms.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. 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.
No.
Kris suddenly flinched at the power of the... thought? Voice? It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, from within and from without. Her finger jerked... away from the trigger of her pistol. Kris' eyes flickered rapidly, pupils dilating, not really focusing on Logan and Daisuke any longer, in spite of her threat. Logic would've dictated that it would be a good idea to keep the gun trained ON the people she'd announced she was going to shoot, but logic wasn't exactly at home at that particular moment.
Abruptly, one of her knees decided it would be a good time to give out, causing Kris to lurch sideways as her left leg buckled, the knee hitting the ground with an audible impact. She was still halfway between standing and kneeling when a slight sound interjected itself into her awareness. Kris' head turned to look at where it had come from with an almost laconic swing. A pair of wide, glistening brown eyes locked onto those of R.J. Lowe, only vaguely registering and recognising the person she'd encountered already.
Kris just about managed to regain her feet, unsteadily tottering after pushing herself up again. The gun, oddly, was now held in slack fingers, not clung to, like it was before. She just... couldn't think. Too many images, too many scraps flashing through her head.
C-can't...
She took a shuffled step back from the pair in the cabin and the nearby R.J., then another. The skater slowly shook her head all the while, her hand suddenly clenching tightly around her pistol again. Confession. Flee? Told. play. Rrr-resist. L-leave...
Kris continued backpedalling her way right out of that little area around the sawmill. If anybody had cared to look closely, they would have seen her eyes streaming with tears.
((Kris continued in Where There Is Fire, We Will Carry Gasoline))
Kris suddenly flinched at the power of the... thought? Voice? It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, from within and from without. Her finger jerked... away from the trigger of her pistol. Kris' eyes flickered rapidly, pupils dilating, not really focusing on Logan and Daisuke any longer, in spite of her threat. Logic would've dictated that it would be a good idea to keep the gun trained ON the people she'd announced she was going to shoot, but logic wasn't exactly at home at that particular moment.
Abruptly, one of her knees decided it would be a good time to give out, causing Kris to lurch sideways as her left leg buckled, the knee hitting the ground with an audible impact. She was still halfway between standing and kneeling when a slight sound interjected itself into her awareness. Kris' head turned to look at where it had come from with an almost laconic swing. A pair of wide, glistening brown eyes locked onto those of R.J. Lowe, only vaguely registering and recognising the person she'd encountered already.
Kris just about managed to regain her feet, unsteadily tottering after pushing herself up again. The gun, oddly, was now held in slack fingers, not clung to, like it was before. She just... couldn't think. Too many images, too many scraps flashing through her head.
C-can't...
She took a shuffled step back from the pair in the cabin and the nearby R.J., then another. The skater slowly shook her head all the while, her hand suddenly clenching tightly around her pistol again. Confession. Flee? Told. play. Rrr-resist. L-leave...
Kris continued backpedalling her way right out of that little area around the sawmill. If anybody had cared to look closely, they would have seen her eyes streaming with tears.
((Kris continued in Where There Is Fire, We Will Carry Gasoline))
"Fuck..."
Daisuke quickly pulled his head back in and pressed his back tightly against the wall behind him. His chest rose and fell heavily as he breathed short, panicked breaths.
"That bad, huh?" Logan said, sizing up Daisuke's panic fairly accurately. Of course it was bad. She was pointing a gun right at them! Daisuke could do nothing more than nod a response to Logan's question.
"I'd love to say 'we had a good run', but since we've achieved fuck all so far..." He said hesitantly. It was the truth of course. For all of his high and mighty words, Daisuke had really done nothing more than look out for himself, and it showed. They had accomplished nothing. Here was an honest to God murderer in front of them ripe for vengeance to be bestowed upon her head, and yet Daisuke couldn't even bring himself to just shoot her already even as an excuse to save himself.
"I really can't say it. So here's the plan." he continued in a conspiratorially hushed tone. "Give me the gun, I'm gonna go out there. With any luck, if we look and sound as serious as she does, we might all come out of this alive."
He's offering you a way out. he thought to himself. If he let Logan take his gun, he wouldn't have to worry about killing anyone. Everything would be Logan's fault. Let him be the scapegoat.
Daisuke's hand trembled as he looked at his gun. His grip loosened. The gun was dangling in his hand at his side. It wouldn't be too much effort now to just toss Logan the gun and let him take care of their little problem.
"This is pretty much the only option, unless you have a better plan. I don't want to kill her, and I don't want to die, but I don't see any other choices."
The temptation to let Logan do their dirty work was strong. Logan was offering him a way out of their pact, to let him just take care of everything.
I... I can't...
You're a fucking disgrace.
Something from deep within Daisuke berated him for his cowardice.
Are you gonna let everyone look down on you like you're some weak little bitch that needs to be saved?
It reminded Daisuke of all of the kids who used to make fun of him when he was younger and how he desperately would hide instead of taking action and stand up for himself. How he would let the adults take care of everything for him, even after he had screwed everything up later in his life.
He was always finding new ways to avoid responsibility, weather by virtue of his own inaction or his desperation to drown his self-hatred in drugs and alcohol. Even his second chance at life was orchestrated for him by his parents. And now, even as he stood on death's doorstep, he was almost willing to sit back and just let Logan take care of everything for him. It would be all too easy to say yes now and just hide until everything was over.
For once in your life; man the fuck up.
"No." Daisuke answered as his resolve solidified. No more hiding. No more easy way out. His life was forfeit either way. He was the one who signed on to go after the players. He wasn't forced into this; he volunteered. If Logan was stout enough to try and take on the world, Daisuke wasn't about to let him do it alone.
"I'm sick of just waiting for everyone else to solve my problems." He said, still lost in his train of thought. "It's time I actually did something right for a change. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I just sat back and let you do all the hard work?"
Daisuke looked Logan straight in the eyes as his previous fear was replaced with a righteous fury. Today was the day that he took control of his own life, no matter how short it was destined to be. Today, he would avenge the deaths of his fellow students. Today, he would own up to every boisterous thing he'd ever said in his life.
The rush of confidence was exhilarating. He was focused. He was ready.
"Follow me on three. If I get shot, you know what to do. Ready?" He asked as he raised his hand, starting the countdown on his fingers. His mind raced with anticipation.
3...
2...
1...
Go.
Daisuke spun around and ran straight out the door with his gun at the ready, aiming straight for... Some guy.
"What?" Daisuke said as he stopped abruptly in the middle of the road. Where the fuck was Kris? Who the hell was this guy? Did she get away because it took him so long to man up and take action? Did this guy scare her off?
They were too late.
If Daisuke had a hat, surely it would have been thrown to the ground in disgust.
"Fuck! We had her! We fucking HAD her, and I let her get away!" He said as he angrily kicked gravel from the makeshift road into the air before turning to face the guy who had taken Kris' place in the distance. "And who the fuck are you!"
Daisuke quickly pulled his head back in and pressed his back tightly against the wall behind him. His chest rose and fell heavily as he breathed short, panicked breaths.
"That bad, huh?" Logan said, sizing up Daisuke's panic fairly accurately. Of course it was bad. She was pointing a gun right at them! Daisuke could do nothing more than nod a response to Logan's question.
"I'd love to say 'we had a good run', but since we've achieved fuck all so far..." He said hesitantly. It was the truth of course. For all of his high and mighty words, Daisuke had really done nothing more than look out for himself, and it showed. They had accomplished nothing. Here was an honest to God murderer in front of them ripe for vengeance to be bestowed upon her head, and yet Daisuke couldn't even bring himself to just shoot her already even as an excuse to save himself.
"I really can't say it. So here's the plan." he continued in a conspiratorially hushed tone. "Give me the gun, I'm gonna go out there. With any luck, if we look and sound as serious as she does, we might all come out of this alive."
He's offering you a way out. he thought to himself. If he let Logan take his gun, he wouldn't have to worry about killing anyone. Everything would be Logan's fault. Let him be the scapegoat.
Daisuke's hand trembled as he looked at his gun. His grip loosened. The gun was dangling in his hand at his side. It wouldn't be too much effort now to just toss Logan the gun and let him take care of their little problem.
"This is pretty much the only option, unless you have a better plan. I don't want to kill her, and I don't want to die, but I don't see any other choices."
The temptation to let Logan do their dirty work was strong. Logan was offering him a way out of their pact, to let him just take care of everything.
I... I can't...
You're a fucking disgrace.
Something from deep within Daisuke berated him for his cowardice.
Are you gonna let everyone look down on you like you're some weak little bitch that needs to be saved?
It reminded Daisuke of all of the kids who used to make fun of him when he was younger and how he desperately would hide instead of taking action and stand up for himself. How he would let the adults take care of everything for him, even after he had screwed everything up later in his life.
He was always finding new ways to avoid responsibility, weather by virtue of his own inaction or his desperation to drown his self-hatred in drugs and alcohol. Even his second chance at life was orchestrated for him by his parents. And now, even as he stood on death's doorstep, he was almost willing to sit back and just let Logan take care of everything for him. It would be all too easy to say yes now and just hide until everything was over.
For once in your life; man the fuck up.
"No." Daisuke answered as his resolve solidified. No more hiding. No more easy way out. His life was forfeit either way. He was the one who signed on to go after the players. He wasn't forced into this; he volunteered. If Logan was stout enough to try and take on the world, Daisuke wasn't about to let him do it alone.
"I'm sick of just waiting for everyone else to solve my problems." He said, still lost in his train of thought. "It's time I actually did something right for a change. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I just sat back and let you do all the hard work?"
Daisuke looked Logan straight in the eyes as his previous fear was replaced with a righteous fury. Today was the day that he took control of his own life, no matter how short it was destined to be. Today, he would avenge the deaths of his fellow students. Today, he would own up to every boisterous thing he'd ever said in his life.
The rush of confidence was exhilarating. He was focused. He was ready.
"Follow me on three. If I get shot, you know what to do. Ready?" He asked as he raised his hand, starting the countdown on his fingers. His mind raced with anticipation.
3...
2...
1...
Go.
Daisuke spun around and ran straight out the door with his gun at the ready, aiming straight for... Some guy.
"What?" Daisuke said as he stopped abruptly in the middle of the road. Where the fuck was Kris? Who the hell was this guy? Did she get away because it took him so long to man up and take action? Did this guy scare her off?
They were too late.
If Daisuke had a hat, surely it would have been thrown to the ground in disgust.
"Fuck! We had her! We fucking HAD her, and I let her get away!" He said as he angrily kicked gravel from the makeshift road into the air before turning to face the guy who had taken Kris' place in the distance. "And who the fuck are you!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Lawther. 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.