((Johnny Silva Ruiz continued from RICKITY_CARNIVAL))
Another productive day of fucking around and staying out of the way of everyone else. Not that Johnny was bitching, not really. The less of these idiots he had to cross, the better. At least until shooting them dead was actually viable.
He pushed that thought aside for now as he stepped inside the house, rapping on the door and making his presence known since, like, what the fuck was someone gonna do, stab him? Good fucking luck.
But no. No signs of life. Walked around a bit and his own eyes showed the same result even in the near pitch blackness of the night. He could chill here for a bit. God, his was so tired.
But before sitting down, he shoved some sorta dresser in front of the door. Ya know, don't want any unwanted visitors. Not like he couldn't just blast them away, but still.
Good. Now no one can bother him. He found the bed and quickly drifted off into a dead sleep.
When he woke up, it was already well into daytime. Completely missed the announcements, not that that was a huge concern, but his collar wasn't beeping and he was still breathing so hey! No bitching here.
God he was starvin', though. Johnny rummaged through his duffel, taking inventory again. Still had some half-eaten stale-ass bread and half a shitty food bar. His rumbling stomach was deafening. He was gonna try and like, ration this shit out, but... he just devoured the last of the food bar.
It helped somewhat, but like... he really needed to find more food soon. Water, too, since he just had this one paltry sip left.
...Had, anyway. That was it. He squashed the bottle and chucked it on the floor like it was one of those "fun" restaurants you were supposed 'ta just toss peanut shells overboard like some sort of barbarian.
As the bottle went flying, Johnny's eyes were drawn to the writing on the wall, something that was even more clear in the late morning sun passing through the window. Some sorta score system. A tally of... something. The indentations looked fresh, which like... yeah, guess it made sense. Keeping track of the days and... maybe the killers on the announcements? That was Johnny's best guess. Kinda wonder why no one was around if they were so keen on staying up to date. Maybe they died yesterday or something.
Not that he cared.
Anyway, it was probably time to get going, just in case the last person here was gonna finally show up let alone with company. He closed and secured the bag, grabbed the shotgun, and started walking. Gave his shotgun another look over-
-and rammed his toes right into the dresser. He grimaced and seethed through his teeth, dropping the shotgun on top of the dresser and just took a minute to like, composure himself.
Oof. On second thought, he needed several minutes.
...Okay. He was good. Yeah, good. Good enough.
Johnny grabbed the shotgu- wait, what was this? Something was peeking out of the now partially open drawer.
Oh. Oh my God. 4 full bottles of water, right there. Chilling and ripe for the taking like this was fucking Resident Evil or some shit.
Johnny gleefully opened his duffel bag and nabbed the water.
...Actually, maybe he should leave one. At least that way it wasn't like he was really fucking over whoever was previously here. Honestly, he was doing this dude a favor; someone else would've probably taken them all, so wasn't it a good thing Johnny found it first?
...Maybe he'd leave two, even.
...No, just one. Yeah, one's good. One water bottle, the first aid kit, and the spare duffel were what Johnny settled on leaving behind as he closed and moved the dresser from the door and left the house.
He rushed back in and grabbed the shotgun, shook his head a couple of times, and left again, starting down the road past the gardens.
The Finders Keepers Fallacy & Other War Profiteering Parables
Day 5 - noonish, open once Frozen gets in but PMs before entering would be appreciated!
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Frozen Smoke
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((Parker_Green - Day 5 - 12:11 Local Time - Entering from Dystopia))
There was a small sense of relief as the incline started to level out, marking the top of the hill upon which the houses that were most intact on the island lay, starting to rely on familiarity rather than furtive checking with his compass and map to make sure he'd made the right turn on this or that particular dirt path.
The travel had been far too long, and far too hard. His calf burnt, and so did the soles of his feet, and his shirt was drenched with sweat from the humidity. But he'd kept pressing forwards. He needed to get somewhere safe, and whilst it wasn't exactly an impenetrable fortress, the house he'd found here had been good enough the past few nights. It wasn't a guarantee of safety, of course, but it seemed better than anywhere else he knew of right now.
It wasn't even like he could sleep when he got there. The obligations that lost time placed on him forbade that. He had to update his information in preparation for tomorrow. Had to figure out exactly what he had left in terms of resources. Had to plan out his next moves from all of that. In theory, he could have been thinking about it as he'd walked, but every footstep and check of the map after his collar had stopped beeping had felt like it used up every ounce of his concentration. Like his brain was filled with the simple white noise of forcing one foot in front of the other.
His eyes picked up the movement in front of him, and Parker came to a halt abruptly as he squinted at the figure, the extra sound of footsteps on gravel filtering through that white noise.
Great.
Parker had no idea who he was. Taller than Parker, with a better tan and dark hair probably described a solid 30% of the male population of GHHS. But what he did recognise was the gun in his hands. An actual gun, too, not a rifle. One he recognised from far too many video game appearances.
He couldn't hide. That much was obvious. Diving into the flowers wasn't exactly an option that was likely to succeed. Maybe he could duck into one of the houses. Try and catch him around a corner. That seemed like it might work, but it would also trap him inside said house.
"...Yo." Parker greeted awkwardly.
There was a small sense of relief as the incline started to level out, marking the top of the hill upon which the houses that were most intact on the island lay, starting to rely on familiarity rather than furtive checking with his compass and map to make sure he'd made the right turn on this or that particular dirt path.
The travel had been far too long, and far too hard. His calf burnt, and so did the soles of his feet, and his shirt was drenched with sweat from the humidity. But he'd kept pressing forwards. He needed to get somewhere safe, and whilst it wasn't exactly an impenetrable fortress, the house he'd found here had been good enough the past few nights. It wasn't a guarantee of safety, of course, but it seemed better than anywhere else he knew of right now.
It wasn't even like he could sleep when he got there. The obligations that lost time placed on him forbade that. He had to update his information in preparation for tomorrow. Had to figure out exactly what he had left in terms of resources. Had to plan out his next moves from all of that. In theory, he could have been thinking about it as he'd walked, but every footstep and check of the map after his collar had stopped beeping had felt like it used up every ounce of his concentration. Like his brain was filled with the simple white noise of forcing one foot in front of the other.
His eyes picked up the movement in front of him, and Parker came to a halt abruptly as he squinted at the figure, the extra sound of footsteps on gravel filtering through that white noise.
Great.
Parker had no idea who he was. Taller than Parker, with a better tan and dark hair probably described a solid 30% of the male population of GHHS. But what he did recognise was the gun in his hands. An actual gun, too, not a rifle. One he recognised from far too many video game appearances.
He couldn't hide. That much was obvious. Diving into the flowers wasn't exactly an option that was likely to succeed. Maybe he could duck into one of the houses. Try and catch him around a corner. That seemed like it might work, but it would also trap him inside said house.
"...Yo." Parker greeted awkwardly.
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Johnny looked up and jumped out of his skin, immediately aiming the shotgun muzzle at the jump scare kid with a death grip.
"Whad'ya want?" He called out, pushing the stock more into his armpit as the duffel bag swung into his hip.
Godammit, Johnny really could barely go a whole day without some fucking twink sneaking up on him.
"Whad'ya want?" He called out, pushing the stock more into his armpit as the duffel bag swung into his hip.
Godammit, Johnny really could barely go a whole day without some fucking twink sneaking up on him.
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Frozen Smoke
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It wasn't an irrational response to point a gun at someone in the situation they were in. If anything, it just belied a rather rational distrust of strangers, which made it likely whoever was pointing the gun at him had their head screwed on. That, in turn, made it likely that he'd be cautious about pulling the trigger. But all that rationalisation couldn't stop the discomfort from spreading across Parker's face. He could almost feel the buckshot burning its way through his skin already. This wasn't the same as with Nia, though. He was reacting, his eyes were darting around as he spat out a questiom, rather than locked dead forwards in complete silence. His hands weren't covered in blood, and he hadn't just tried to kill someone else, as far as he knew.
Still, he had to react.
Parker's hands went up in the air immediately, the axe held loosely near the head in one of them, as he took a quick step back. He tried his best to turn the discomfort written on his face into surprise.
"Woah! Woah."
A pause, a moment to process the question, before discarding it. He didn't want anything in particular. At least, not from him. Not that he could reasonably get just by asking. He wanted intentions though, aims, goals.
"Just passing through, man." he explained tersely, tilting his hands towards himself in a subtle 'What the hell' gesture as he kept them raised above his head.
Still, he had to react.
Parker's hands went up in the air immediately, the axe held loosely near the head in one of them, as he took a quick step back. He tried his best to turn the discomfort written on his face into surprise.
"Woah! Woah."
A pause, a moment to process the question, before discarding it. He didn't want anything in particular. At least, not from him. Not that he could reasonably get just by asking. He wanted intentions though, aims, goals.
"Just passing through, man." he explained tersely, tilting his hands towards himself in a subtle 'What the hell' gesture as he kept them raised above his head.
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Johnny gave him a once, twice, thrice over.
Then he glanced over, left to right and back again. Dude looked like he was alone with the axe thing, but then again people were out here sniping shit so who really knew.
Johnny strafed off the path, his back near one of the houses and his eyes fixated on the would-be passerby. The muzzle shook ever so slightly.
"Then go."
Then he glanced over, left to right and back again. Dude looked like he was alone with the axe thing, but then again people were out here sniping shit so who really knew.
Johnny strafed off the path, his back near one of the houses and his eyes fixated on the would-be passerby. The muzzle shook ever so slightly.
"Then go."
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Frozen Smoke
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"Alright."
Parker started moving again, keeping his eyes firmly on the boy. He thought he recognised the face from somewhere now, as he got a better look at him. Not that he could place a name to shotgun boy. He supposed that was what he was going to be for now, Shotgun Boy, that was the most important characteristic anyway.
He kept his steps smooth and slow, trying not to look like he was deliberately stalling him, whilst also trying not to move too quickly. It was a hard mark to hit, and his steps were distinctly less smooth as he changed pace a few times, from too slow to too fast.
It looked like he was moving on anyway. Chances were he had already stayed as long as he needed to here, after all, it was long past morning now.
Something clicked.
Parker turned his head away from shotgun boy slightly, looking over at the house he'd stayed in the few nights before, the place he had been hoping to rest up in. The door to it was ajar. He was certain he hadn't left it like that in the morning.
There was one, very obvious candidate for who had opened the door. Time felt weird to him now, he wasn't sure how late in the morning it was now, and he hadn't checked his watch. Checking it now would look out of place, so he couldn't, but it seemed likely that shotgun had just finished waking up. That meant he'd either spent the night in the house, or one of the others, and had been simply looting the place.
Parker looked back at him for a moment. His expression shifted from that of concentration to that of concern as he slowed down his pace.
"You didn't drink the water, right?"
Parker started moving again, keeping his eyes firmly on the boy. He thought he recognised the face from somewhere now, as he got a better look at him. Not that he could place a name to shotgun boy. He supposed that was what he was going to be for now, Shotgun Boy, that was the most important characteristic anyway.
He kept his steps smooth and slow, trying not to look like he was deliberately stalling him, whilst also trying not to move too quickly. It was a hard mark to hit, and his steps were distinctly less smooth as he changed pace a few times, from too slow to too fast.
It looked like he was moving on anyway. Chances were he had already stayed as long as he needed to here, after all, it was long past morning now.
Something clicked.
Parker turned his head away from shotgun boy slightly, looking over at the house he'd stayed in the few nights before, the place he had been hoping to rest up in. The door to it was ajar. He was certain he hadn't left it like that in the morning.
There was one, very obvious candidate for who had opened the door. Time felt weird to him now, he wasn't sure how late in the morning it was now, and he hadn't checked his watch. Checking it now would look out of place, so he couldn't, but it seemed likely that shotgun had just finished waking up. That meant he'd either spent the night in the house, or one of the others, and had been simply looting the place.
Parker looked back at him for a moment. His expression shifted from that of concentration to that of concern as he slowed down his pace.
"You didn't drink the water, right?"
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Johnny broke eye contact and lowered the shotgun muzzle as he huffed and clenched his eyes shut with a head shake.
He raised the gun again, slightly lower than before as he shifted his footing left and right and glared at Axe Fucker again.
He licked his lips. The salty beads of sweat stung.
"What... what water?"
He raised the gun again, slightly lower than before as he shifted his footing left and right and glared at Axe Fucker again.
He licked his lips. The salty beads of sweat stung.
"What... what water?"
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Frozen Smoke
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"You know, Erika's water." Parker said, as he pointed behind himself with his thumb at the house in question. "At least I think it's Erika's"
Evidence. He needed evidence to back that up.
"- Found Blake's body around here a couple days ago -"
And a reason that he couldn't share that evidence.
"- Dragged it off into the bush, because I didn't want to sleep next to a corpse."
Parker paused for a moment, frozen in place as shotgun boy continued to level his weapon in his direction, waiting for a response as he tried his best to look self-assured.
Evidence. He needed evidence to back that up.
"- Found Blake's body around here a couple days ago -"
And a reason that he couldn't share that evidence.
"- Dragged it off into the bush, because I didn't want to sleep next to a corpse."
Parker paused for a moment, frozen in place as shotgun boy continued to level his weapon in his direction, waiting for a response as he tried his best to look self-assured.
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The gun dropped for a moment as Johnny's eyes fell on his duffel. He blinked and returned to glaring, gun raised again but at a lower level.
"Why ya holding onto the bottles, then? Gonna use them as a trap? That's kinda fucked up, dude."
"Why ya holding onto the bottles, then? Gonna use them as a trap? That's kinda fucked up, dude."
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Frozen Smoke
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- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:50 pm
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Parker tried his best to look genuinely confused for a moment, before responding all in a rush, as if it was suddenly making sense to him. Everything he was saying made total sense, it was a reasonable conclusion to draw, now that he'd thought about it for a second. It wasn't Erika leaving this trap, with how he'd explained it, it was him letting the trap stay around after it had already killed someone. Shit. Not a good look, but at least he had a moment to think about how to respond.
"No, no - I just like, didn't want to mess with it."
Not the finest answer he'd ever come up with. His eyes began to drift towards the eponymous shotgun in shotgun boy's hands now, as it stayed pointed at him, even if not fully brought to bear. Maybe trying to trick him into wasting a few bottles of water he'd already successfully acquired wasn't worth the cost here? In fact, why the fuck had he started down this path in the first place? Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut, or just walked in another direction when he heard footsteps?
Fuck he was tired.
He shrugged his shoulders as best as he could whilst still holding his arms above his head.
"Look, I don't mind what you do, man - Just wanted to warn you, you know?"
"No, no - I just like, didn't want to mess with it."
Not the finest answer he'd ever come up with. His eyes began to drift towards the eponymous shotgun in shotgun boy's hands now, as it stayed pointed at him, even if not fully brought to bear. Maybe trying to trick him into wasting a few bottles of water he'd already successfully acquired wasn't worth the cost here? In fact, why the fuck had he started down this path in the first place? Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut, or just walked in another direction when he heard footsteps?
Fuck he was tired.
He shrugged his shoulders as best as he could whilst still holding his arms above his head.
"Look, I don't mind what you do, man - Just wanted to warn you, you know?"
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"That's thoughtful of you." Johnny's words were as dry as his dehydrated throat.
The shotgun lowered all the way to the ground, but it still rested firmly in Johnny's greasy fingers. He remained at attention and unmoving. Just in case this dude had some sort of fucking trick up his sleeve. So remain in his spot he would. It's a free fucking country, anyway.
"I... I mean, whoever took 'em, there is one more chilling back in that dresser. But I don't give a shit about what you do with it."
The shotgun lowered all the way to the ground, but it still rested firmly in Johnny's greasy fingers. He remained at attention and unmoving. Just in case this dude had some sort of fucking trick up his sleeve. So remain in his spot he would. It's a free fucking country, anyway.
"I... I mean, whoever took 'em, there is one more chilling back in that dresser. But I don't give a shit about what you do with it."
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
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- Location: Dreamland
((Amber woozily trudged towards the large, eye-catching houses she had seen in the distance, her whole body drenched in sweat and dully aching, with her baseball bat clutched tight in one hand, dragging the ground underneath her.))
The bat was covered with significantly more blood that was much fresher than it had been previously, albeit still dried out. The fronts of her clothes were still stained brown from falling into the mud, and both her tank top and her jeans were freshly ripped in various places. Slightly bloodied bandages were clearly visible through the tears in the fabric. The bandages she had wrapped around her arms were fresh, and were not stained by either mud or blood.
So, uh, are we going to talk about what happened?
Amber let out a dejected sigh.
I will never speak of it ever again. If I pretend it didn't happen, I don't have to worry about it.
I... guess so. I'm not sure if that's healthy, but so long as it makes you feel better...
Her eyes drifted downwards, glancing at the baseball bat briefly, before returning to the path ahead of her. She had originally planned to throw it off the cliff, but after the incident yesterday, she made the executive decision to keep it with her, in case the need to use it ever arose again.
She had slept very little the previous night; the bodily aches, poor sleeping conditions, and her steadily worsening nicotine withdrawal had all made it very difficult for her to fall asleep before the sun eventually rose. She had been wandering aimlessly for a few hours in her exhausted state, having no particular plan as to where she exactly she was traveling to, other than away from where she had been before. Seeing the oversized, extravagant houses in the distance finally gave her a landmark to travel towards as a potential place of rest and comfort, and she had been slowly but steadily moving towards them for a few minutes.
Eventually, she finally arrived near the back of one of the houses, only dimly aware of the sounds of voices in the distance. They were probably far away, she thought, since she had only just started to hear them. All she would have to do round the corner and duck into the front door-
As she rounded a corner, she came to a halt not too far away from the pair, behind Johnny. Her eyes went wide as she saw the shotgun in his hands, the first firearm she had encountered in this place, and she immediately began to panic, waking up and finally returning to full alertness. Not thinking properly, she shouted the first thing that came to mind.
"HOLY SHIT, IS THAT A GUN?"
The bat was covered with significantly more blood that was much fresher than it had been previously, albeit still dried out. The fronts of her clothes were still stained brown from falling into the mud, and both her tank top and her jeans were freshly ripped in various places. Slightly bloodied bandages were clearly visible through the tears in the fabric. The bandages she had wrapped around her arms were fresh, and were not stained by either mud or blood.
So, uh, are we going to talk about what happened?
Amber let out a dejected sigh.
I will never speak of it ever again. If I pretend it didn't happen, I don't have to worry about it.
I... guess so. I'm not sure if that's healthy, but so long as it makes you feel better...
Her eyes drifted downwards, glancing at the baseball bat briefly, before returning to the path ahead of her. She had originally planned to throw it off the cliff, but after the incident yesterday, she made the executive decision to keep it with her, in case the need to use it ever arose again.
She had slept very little the previous night; the bodily aches, poor sleeping conditions, and her steadily worsening nicotine withdrawal had all made it very difficult for her to fall asleep before the sun eventually rose. She had been wandering aimlessly for a few hours in her exhausted state, having no particular plan as to where she exactly she was traveling to, other than away from where she had been before. Seeing the oversized, extravagant houses in the distance finally gave her a landmark to travel towards as a potential place of rest and comfort, and she had been slowly but steadily moving towards them for a few minutes.
Eventually, she finally arrived near the back of one of the houses, only dimly aware of the sounds of voices in the distance. They were probably far away, she thought, since she had only just started to hear them. All she would have to do round the corner and duck into the front door-
As she rounded a corner, she came to a halt not too far away from the pair, behind Johnny. Her eyes went wide as she saw the shotgun in his hands, the first firearm she had encountered in this place, and she immediately began to panic, waking up and finally returning to full alertness. Not thinking properly, she shouted the first thing that came to mind.
"HOLY SHIT, IS THAT A GUN?"
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Frozen Smoke
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Shotgun boy wasn't buying it, but Parker also was still breathing, so whatever motivations he'd assigned they were at least not enough in his eyes to warrant execution. His eyes tracked the motion of the barrel of the gun as it began to slowly tilt downwards, away from Parker's chest, before flicking up to meet his. It felt like just a little bit of tension was easing out of things, giving him time to think, even as his brain still felt woozy.
Shotgun boy was a bad liar, unless that trip up was some deliberate tilting of the hand, which felt unlikely. He was to some extent conscientious too, leaving one bottle of water to the mostly likely single person you were stealing from was ultimately just mercy, and he certainly wasn't demanding that Parker hand over all his water. He also probably hadn't killed anyone, given his lack of supplies, and the fact that he couldn't recall any shotgun specific deaths. Without a name he couldn't be certain of that, but he was unlikely to get one he could trust, given that he had nothing to verify it with.
Parker made a mental note to come up with a few alias names he could give out if he needed to.
Still, the most important observation he'd made about shotgun boy was something he'd revealed to him. He needed water, and he didn't know where to find it safely, to the point that he was willing to take water that was simply lying out in the open - Despite the known presence of poisoners in the game. That either made him stupid, or desperate, or perhaps a combination of the two. He also had one of the things Parker needed most, a weapon.
All of those characteristics made shotgun boy, whilst not trustworthy, certainly pliable. Parker just had to figure out how to offer him what he needed, for what Parker wanted, in a way that he would likely accept. Or, at least, not flip out in response to.
"Thanks." he responded, trying to pick out the right level of graciousness to give whilst trying to keep with the image of the bottles in question being poisoned, his smile small and strained as he spoke.
"Alright, so - I know we kinda started off on the wrong foot here, but if you need water, I ca-"
"HOLY SHIT, IS THAT A GUN?"
The voice came crashing through everything, and Parker turned towards her, irritation borne clear on his face. His grip on the axe tightened as he tried to fish her movement out in the middle distance, the feeling of the square edges of the metal biting into his palm helping him suppress the urge to yell back, and ask her exactly what she thought it was.
A loaf of bread, perhaps?
Shotgun boy was a bad liar, unless that trip up was some deliberate tilting of the hand, which felt unlikely. He was to some extent conscientious too, leaving one bottle of water to the mostly likely single person you were stealing from was ultimately just mercy, and he certainly wasn't demanding that Parker hand over all his water. He also probably hadn't killed anyone, given his lack of supplies, and the fact that he couldn't recall any shotgun specific deaths. Without a name he couldn't be certain of that, but he was unlikely to get one he could trust, given that he had nothing to verify it with.
Parker made a mental note to come up with a few alias names he could give out if he needed to.
Still, the most important observation he'd made about shotgun boy was something he'd revealed to him. He needed water, and he didn't know where to find it safely, to the point that he was willing to take water that was simply lying out in the open - Despite the known presence of poisoners in the game. That either made him stupid, or desperate, or perhaps a combination of the two. He also had one of the things Parker needed most, a weapon.
All of those characteristics made shotgun boy, whilst not trustworthy, certainly pliable. Parker just had to figure out how to offer him what he needed, for what Parker wanted, in a way that he would likely accept. Or, at least, not flip out in response to.
"Thanks." he responded, trying to pick out the right level of graciousness to give whilst trying to keep with the image of the bottles in question being poisoned, his smile small and strained as he spoke.
"Alright, so - I know we kinda started off on the wrong foot here, but if you need water, I ca-"
"HOLY SHIT, IS THAT A GUN?"
The voice came crashing through everything, and Parker turned towards her, irritation borne clear on his face. His grip on the axe tightened as he tried to fish her movement out in the middle distance, the feeling of the square edges of the metal biting into his palm helping him suppress the urge to yell back, and ask her exactly what she thought it was.
A loaf of bread, perhaps?
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Ya know, fucking thirsty as Johnny was, he really needed food. But still if Axe Fucker had some sorta proposit-
Johnny turned around at the shout, and a short distance aways was a girl covered in what looked like mud and blood and bandages like she just survived a fucking Michael Bay movie. Also had a bat that looked like it got plenty of fucking mileage.
So of course the first thing Johnny did was raise the shotgun at the newcomer, taking a step back and bracing himself. He glanced over at Axe Fucker on the other side; now Johnny was sandwiched between the two of them, unless he could dive into the dense shrubbery in front but who knew what the fuck was in there.
Fuck.
He turned back to the girl and grit his teeth. "And who the fuck are you!?"
Johnny turned around at the shout, and a short distance aways was a girl covered in what looked like mud and blood and bandages like she just survived a fucking Michael Bay movie. Also had a bat that looked like it got plenty of fucking mileage.
So of course the first thing Johnny did was raise the shotgun at the newcomer, taking a step back and bracing himself. He glanced over at Axe Fucker on the other side; now Johnny was sandwiched between the two of them, unless he could dive into the dense shrubbery in front but who knew what the fuck was in there.
Fuck.
He turned back to the girl and grit his teeth. "And who the fuck are you!?"
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VoltTurtle
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There were many ways to react to having a shotgun leveled in your direction. One person might react by surrendering and explaining herself. Another person might react by calmly negotiating her way out of the situation. A different person entirely might try to whip out her own gun to defend herself, or slowly approach before charging in when the holder of the shotgun got briefly distracted.
Amber was none of those people.
Instead, her reaction to having a shotgun pointed at her was to unleash an ear-piercing scream before immediately throwing her trembling hands up into the air. Her face was contorted into an expression of sheer panic, and fresh tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. As she stared death in the face, the pain she was just experiencing was now a complete non-issue. Never before in her life had she felt such visceral fear, her very being now balanced on a knife's edge. She thought that when her time came, she would handle it with grace, but seeing as her entire existence was capable of being obliterated with a single pull of the trigger, she now understood what true thanatophobia was like.
She maintained her screaming fit until her lungs were completely depleted, trailing off into a wheeze and a gasp. Her face now soaked with tears, it was only then that she finally regained the capacity for speech.
"OHMYGOSHIMSOSORRY-" she screamed anew, each of her words blending into the next. "-IDIDNTMEANTORUNINTOYOULIKETHISMYNAMEISAMBERIMNOTGOINGTOHURTYOUPLEASEDONTKILLMEEEEEEE-"
Amber was none of those people.
Instead, her reaction to having a shotgun pointed at her was to unleash an ear-piercing scream before immediately throwing her trembling hands up into the air. Her face was contorted into an expression of sheer panic, and fresh tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. As she stared death in the face, the pain she was just experiencing was now a complete non-issue. Never before in her life had she felt such visceral fear, her very being now balanced on a knife's edge. She thought that when her time came, she would handle it with grace, but seeing as her entire existence was capable of being obliterated with a single pull of the trigger, she now understood what true thanatophobia was like.
She maintained her screaming fit until her lungs were completely depleted, trailing off into a wheeze and a gasp. Her face now soaked with tears, it was only then that she finally regained the capacity for speech.
"OHMYGOSHIMSOSORRY-" she screamed anew, each of her words blending into the next. "-IDIDNTMEANTORUNINTOYOULIKETHISMYNAMEISAMBERIMNOTGOINGTOHURTYOUPLEASEDONTKILLMEEEEEEE-"