((B043- Adonis Alba: Start))
Adonis Alba was not happy with his current predicament. He was supposed to be going to Disneyworld. He was going to get to ride Test Track and eat at that German buffet they have in Epcot. But what happened? His whole freakin' class gets kidnapped and put into a stupid terrorist game that was supposed to have been over four years ago! First he misses out on prom, and now the school trip gets screwed up. For some reason, the universe really seemed to have it out for Adonis.
He grumbled as he walked along an old, overgrown golf course. It looked nothing like the courses he had seen on TV. The grass was out of control and dead in a few spots, and the water hazard was the nastiest fucking thing he had ever seen in his entire life. He came to a stop at a rusty golf cart that had been turned on its side long ago. As he looked at it, he thought about his current situation.
Okay, so these terrorist assholes kidnap our whole class because... who the fuck knows why... and they give us weapons and make us kill each other. That sounds like an awesome movie, but that kind of shit isn't supposed to happen in real life! It's just not supposed to happen, dammit! Why? Why does this crap have to happen to me? Why now? Wasn't missing prom bad enough, now I have to fucking DIE on top of that?
Brimming with rage, Adonis kicked the top of the old golf cart. It wasn't hard enough to cause any real damage to his foot, but it still hurt. In response to the pain, Adonis, being the prime example of intelligence he is, kicked it again. This time around, he recoiled after the impact, and shouted loud enough for the whole course to hear.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
Far Below Par
B043 Start
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ViolentMedic
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((G043: Mallory McCormick - START))
Mallory was freaking out.
She was standing very still. Eyes wide and not really staring at anything, hands gripping the strap on the bag so tightly her knuckles were white. G043 was printed on the bag. She hadn't opened it. She'd done nothing but stare into the distance.
Normally she didn't think about things. She just did stuff. Good or bad, she usually knew what she was doing, even if later she thought 'well, that was stupid.'
She did not have a fucking idea what to do. Her mind was just... blank. Apart from a vague, hypnotic but all-consuming sense that she was absolutely fucked.
...
The sensation of 'you are fucked' got stronger the longer she stood still. It got stronger and stronger. It became unbearable.
She couldn't stand still. She needed to move. Things would work themselves out if she just did something.
Mallory took a step forward. Another step forward.
And then she broke out into a run, sprinting as fast as she could. Like she could run away from the entire problem. She ran, her feet thumped against the ground, thump thump thump thump thump, and her heart beat raced and, just like when she played sports, just like when she did anything and it was hard but in the best way, she felt really alive.
...That never meant much to her until right at that moment.
And just as the rush that accompanied the running had almost nudged her out of her hypnotic state, a loud scream of 'son of a bitch' completely kicked her out of it. Mallory heard the shout before she saw Alba, king douchebag, standing in front of a rusted old golf cart. Mallory slowed down until she was just a few metres away.
She could only mimic his words.
"Son of a bitch," she said.
Of all people to run into.
Mallory was freaking out.
She was standing very still. Eyes wide and not really staring at anything, hands gripping the strap on the bag so tightly her knuckles were white. G043 was printed on the bag. She hadn't opened it. She'd done nothing but stare into the distance.
Normally she didn't think about things. She just did stuff. Good or bad, she usually knew what she was doing, even if later she thought 'well, that was stupid.'
She did not have a fucking idea what to do. Her mind was just... blank. Apart from a vague, hypnotic but all-consuming sense that she was absolutely fucked.
...
The sensation of 'you are fucked' got stronger the longer she stood still. It got stronger and stronger. It became unbearable.
She couldn't stand still. She needed to move. Things would work themselves out if she just did something.
Mallory took a step forward. Another step forward.
And then she broke out into a run, sprinting as fast as she could. Like she could run away from the entire problem. She ran, her feet thumped against the ground, thump thump thump thump thump, and her heart beat raced and, just like when she played sports, just like when she did anything and it was hard but in the best way, she felt really alive.
...That never meant much to her until right at that moment.
And just as the rush that accompanied the running had almost nudged her out of her hypnotic state, a loud scream of 'son of a bitch' completely kicked her out of it. Mallory heard the shout before she saw Alba, king douchebag, standing in front of a rusted old golf cart. Mallory slowed down until she was just a few metres away.
She could only mimic his words.
"Son of a bitch," she said.
Of all people to run into.
Adonis bent over and clutched his foot, cursing under his breath. Why did he have to kick that golf cart? He didn't know, but his foot hurt like hell because of it. He had to calm himself down. It was the only way he would last any length of time whatsoever on the island. He tried to remember some of the things he had been told in anger management... something about breathing exercises?
Heck, it's worth a shot
Adonis stood up straight and took a deep breath. Then he exhaled. He continued like this for a while. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. After a few repetitions, he felt like he could think straight again. Now he just had to get to work on figuring out what he was supposed to do in order to keep himself from dying.
OK, so I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere on an island where pretty much everyone is willing to kill me. That sucks, but that doesn't mean that I HAVE to die. Someone survives at the end, and I have to figure out how to make sure that that person's me. All right, now what's the first thing that you're supposed to do in a survival situation...
Adonis looked around as he mulled over his decision in his head. To be honest, he had no clue what the first step towards survival was. He was just winging it and hoping that whatever he decided to do worked. As he continued to look around, he saw someone go by. He couldn't ID them, so he just decided to do the next best thing.
"Hey! Hey, you! Come over here! I got something to say!"
Heck, it's worth a shot
Adonis stood up straight and took a deep breath. Then he exhaled. He continued like this for a while. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. After a few repetitions, he felt like he could think straight again. Now he just had to get to work on figuring out what he was supposed to do in order to keep himself from dying.
OK, so I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere on an island where pretty much everyone is willing to kill me. That sucks, but that doesn't mean that I HAVE to die. Someone survives at the end, and I have to figure out how to make sure that that person's me. All right, now what's the first thing that you're supposed to do in a survival situation...
Adonis looked around as he mulled over his decision in his head. To be honest, he had no clue what the first step towards survival was. He was just winging it and hoping that whatever he decided to do worked. As he continued to look around, he saw someone go by. He couldn't ID them, so he just decided to do the next best thing.
"Hey! Hey, you! Come over here! I got something to say!"
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ViolentMedic
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"You can say it while I'm a few meters away, Alba," Mallory shouted as she jogged around the cart.
She didn't want to stay still, for fear that her brain would stop working again. Right now, she was focused on one thing. Alba. Alba she knew. Alba she could deal with. She started jogging in a slow circle around the cart, staying a couple of meters away from Alba. After all, a guy like him... well, violent at the best of times. That was just ingrained into her system.
"So, you got something to say then? Shoot. ...Don't actually shoot if you have a gun or something, though, that'd be dumb."
...What did she have as a weapon? It was near impossible to check while running, but Mallory didn't want to stop.
She didn't want to stay still, for fear that her brain would stop working again. Right now, she was focused on one thing. Alba. Alba she knew. Alba she could deal with. She started jogging in a slow circle around the cart, staying a couple of meters away from Alba. After all, a guy like him... well, violent at the best of times. That was just ingrained into her system.
"So, you got something to say then? Shoot. ...Don't actually shoot if you have a gun or something, though, that'd be dumb."
...What did she have as a weapon? It was near impossible to check while running, but Mallory didn't want to stop.
Well, there was no mistaking who he was talking to now. Mallory McCormick a.k.a. the least feminine person he's ever met. Normally, he wouldn't bother with politeness when dealing with her, but at the moment, she had no reason not to attack him if he happened to piss her off, so for now, he had to choose his words carefully. True, Mallory wasn't acting too friendly herself, but she didn't have a reputation like he did. One false move, and she would be all over him, and not in a good way.
He had to think of something to say, but he couldn't come up with anything. He probably should have come up with something before calling her over to talk, but the die had already been cast, and it was too late for him to change his mind. He had to say something to her, but what was he supposed to say? He couldn't exactly make small talk about being kidnapped by terrorists, after all. He just stared dumbly for a moment, when something she said struck him as odd.
Wait, did she just accuse me of wanting to shoot her? What the hell was that for?
His voice was a combination of displeased and confused as he spoke. "Whoa, hold it! I never said I was gonna shoot you! Hell, I don't even know what my weapon is!"
He thought for another moment, and wondered why she would accuse him of having a gun. Maybe she had one of her own, and was trying to throw blame onto him to hide her own guilt!
Damn, what did they call that in Psych class... reverse psychology or something?
He spoke out again, this time in a more accusatory tone. "Wait a second, how do I know that you don't have a gun, and aren't trying to shoot me?" He pointed his index finger at her, perhaps in an attempt to drive his point home.
He had to think of something to say, but he couldn't come up with anything. He probably should have come up with something before calling her over to talk, but the die had already been cast, and it was too late for him to change his mind. He had to say something to her, but what was he supposed to say? He couldn't exactly make small talk about being kidnapped by terrorists, after all. He just stared dumbly for a moment, when something she said struck him as odd.
Wait, did she just accuse me of wanting to shoot her? What the hell was that for?
His voice was a combination of displeased and confused as he spoke. "Whoa, hold it! I never said I was gonna shoot you! Hell, I don't even know what my weapon is!"
He thought for another moment, and wondered why she would accuse him of having a gun. Maybe she had one of her own, and was trying to throw blame onto him to hide her own guilt!
Damn, what did they call that in Psych class... reverse psychology or something?
He spoke out again, this time in a more accusatory tone. "Wait a second, how do I know that you don't have a gun, and aren't trying to shoot me?" He pointed his index finger at her, perhaps in an attempt to drive his point home.
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NotAFlyingToy
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((Hansel Williams, Courage is being afraid, then saddling up anyway))
In that moment, a person who definitely had a gun, and seemed fairly likely to shoot either of them, jogged onto the course, exploding out of a few scattered bushes at the forest's edge. Across his shoulder was the black duffel bag strap, in his right hand the unmistakeable shape of an assault rifle - FA-MAS, 25 round clip - and on his hat was a trademark hat that those who had known of him in High School would see as a stetson.
The figure squinted towards the two and continued to jog in their direction, halting a long ways off to survey the situation. It became clear that his left shoulder was bandaged competently, and his face and vibrant, red shirt was streaked with sweat and mud from his excursion into the forest and out again.
After a brief pause, Hansel Williams raised his right hand - FA-MAS intact - and waved it at the gathered coupling.
"Reckon I could come o'er?" he called, making his voice deep and booming. He then took note of the fact that one of them - the girl-looking one - kept running around the cart like a woman posessed, a slight crease to his brow forming as he watched her.
"Uh, why are y'runnin' around th'golf cart?"
In that moment, a person who definitely had a gun, and seemed fairly likely to shoot either of them, jogged onto the course, exploding out of a few scattered bushes at the forest's edge. Across his shoulder was the black duffel bag strap, in his right hand the unmistakeable shape of an assault rifle - FA-MAS, 25 round clip - and on his hat was a trademark hat that those who had known of him in High School would see as a stetson.
The figure squinted towards the two and continued to jog in their direction, halting a long ways off to survey the situation. It became clear that his left shoulder was bandaged competently, and his face and vibrant, red shirt was streaked with sweat and mud from his excursion into the forest and out again.
After a brief pause, Hansel Williams raised his right hand - FA-MAS intact - and waved it at the gathered coupling.
"Reckon I could come o'er?" he called, making his voice deep and booming. He then took note of the fact that one of them - the girl-looking one - kept running around the cart like a woman posessed, a slight crease to his brow forming as he watched her.
"Uh, why are y'runnin' around th'golf cart?"
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ViolentMedic
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"Hey, I just don't wanna be shot right now. I'm being careful, jerk! And I don't have a clue what my weapon is, either!" Mallory made a shrugging motion as she persisted jogging. "Okay, so you're not gonna shoot. I guess." She didn't trust Alba at all. But he wasn't holding a gun, so--
That was less worrying than the guy--the cowboy guy, she knew that much--who had just walked in with a FRIGGIN' GIGANTIC GUN.
"Aaaaaaah! Gun!" Mallory yelped, turning tail and hiding behind the cart. (Sure, the cart was near Jerkface Alba, but he didn't have a gigantic gun. To her knowledge.) Of course, the moment she stopped running, coupled with the realization of 'holy shit a gun' and maybe partly because the gas wasn't completely out of her system, made her knees practically buckle. She sank to the ground and clung to the dilapidated cart.
"Oh my god, we're all going to die," she said quietly, eyes wide and not really looking at anything again.
She'd stopped running. She'd put it into words. She couldn't run from the fact and now it was gluing her to this golf cart, which she was clinging to like she used to cling to her big brother when they were kids.
That was less worrying than the guy--the cowboy guy, she knew that much--who had just walked in with a FRIGGIN' GIGANTIC GUN.
"Aaaaaaah! Gun!" Mallory yelped, turning tail and hiding behind the cart. (Sure, the cart was near Jerkface Alba, but he didn't have a gigantic gun. To her knowledge.) Of course, the moment she stopped running, coupled with the realization of 'holy shit a gun' and maybe partly because the gas wasn't completely out of her system, made her knees practically buckle. She sank to the ground and clung to the dilapidated cart.
"Oh my god, we're all going to die," she said quietly, eyes wide and not really looking at anything again.
She'd stopped running. She'd put it into words. She couldn't run from the fact and now it was gluing her to this golf cart, which she was clinging to like she used to cling to her big brother when they were kids.
Yep, Adonis had pissed Mallory off. Not that that was much of a feat, but it wasn't really helping matters. At least she didn't know what her weapon was yet either, which means that she wasn't too likely to pull it on him. That was a positive. They didn't trust each other, but at least they weren't going to kill each other.
Unfortunately, the tension rose again when some guy in a cowboy hat wandered onto the scene holding what Adonis could only identify as a "big fucking gun". Mallory screamed and immediately hid behind the golf cart. Adonis decided that that seemed like a good idea and jumped behind it as well. He didn't scream, though, he just shouted at the guy with the gun.
"Dude, what the FUCK?"
Adonis looked out from behind the golf cart, waiting to see how Mr. Cowboy would react. Hopefully, it wouldn't involve shooting a hole through his head like a wooden duck at a carnival.
Unfortunately, the tension rose again when some guy in a cowboy hat wandered onto the scene holding what Adonis could only identify as a "big fucking gun". Mallory screamed and immediately hid behind the golf cart. Adonis decided that that seemed like a good idea and jumped behind it as well. He didn't scream, though, he just shouted at the guy with the gun.
"Dude, what the FUCK?"
Adonis looked out from behind the golf cart, waiting to see how Mr. Cowboy would react. Hopefully, it wouldn't involve shooting a hole through his head like a wooden duck at a carnival.
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NotAFlyingToy
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Hansel frowned at the reception he got, letting his gun hand drop to his side and his eyebrows raise in question. It was almost like a bad cartoon, where the two scared heroes leapt behind cover the moment the big bad villain wandered into the scene. Which, he supposed, wasn't entirely inaccurate. He kept his distance, aware that he had already taken one bullet and was absolutely not keen to take a second.
"Um," he eloquently replied to Mallory and Adonis' twin outbursts, switching the rifle to the other hand so that he could scratch at his cheek.
"Th'safety's on. I ain't gonna shoot y'all; I been shot myself." He made a vague reference to the blindingly aching wound on his shoulder with his hand, then moved to scratch the unkempt hair pouring from beneath his stetson.
"I ain't gonna shoot y'all," he repeated, "was more hopin' fer a conversation, or teamwork, or... somethin'."
The last word hung in the air as he fidgeted slightly. Hansel Williams was many things, but a master of icebreaking wasn't one of them.
"Um," he eloquently replied to Mallory and Adonis' twin outbursts, switching the rifle to the other hand so that he could scratch at his cheek.
"Th'safety's on. I ain't gonna shoot y'all; I been shot myself." He made a vague reference to the blindingly aching wound on his shoulder with his hand, then moved to scratch the unkempt hair pouring from beneath his stetson.
"I ain't gonna shoot y'all," he repeated, "was more hopin' fer a conversation, or teamwork, or... somethin'."
The last word hung in the air as he fidgeted slightly. Hansel Williams was many things, but a master of icebreaking wasn't one of them.
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ViolentMedic
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Mallory didn't loosen her grip on the old golf cart, even though now Alba had joined her behind it. As much as she hated him under normal circumstances, he wasn't the one with the gun. That was the Cowboy. The Cowboy with the gun, the Cowboy who said he wasn't going to shoot but he'd been waving that thing all over the place and Mallory was more frightened than she'd ever been in her life, apart from perhaps that one time her parents had taken her to the top of the Seattle Needle when she was younger and she'd freaked out because it was so high, but this was a gun, a freaking gun, a freaking giant gun. Sure he said he was safe but...
Mallory peeked over the cart. "Then don't wave it around," she said timidly. "You're gonna shoot someone and--oh crap you're really bleeding." She raised her head a bit more, looking concerned. "Who shot you? Wh--are they around here?" She ducked back down. "There's too many guns!"
Come to think of it, she hadn't checked her weapon. Unzipping the bag, she rifled around and--
A screwdriver?
...Well, that wasn't a gun. She was half relieved, half annoyed. She glanced sideways at Alba.
"What do you have, anyway?" she murmured underneath her breath, too quiet for Hansel to hear. Hatred was pushed aside for now. Right now, Alba was the only person here she wasn't completely terrified of, unlike the Cowboy and whoever'd attacked him.
Mallory peeked over the cart. "Then don't wave it around," she said timidly. "You're gonna shoot someone and--oh crap you're really bleeding." She raised her head a bit more, looking concerned. "Who shot you? Wh--are they around here?" She ducked back down. "There's too many guns!"
Come to think of it, she hadn't checked her weapon. Unzipping the bag, she rifled around and--
A screwdriver?
...Well, that wasn't a gun. She was half relieved, half annoyed. She glanced sideways at Alba.
"What do you have, anyway?" she murmured underneath her breath, too quiet for Hansel to hear. Hatred was pushed aside for now. Right now, Alba was the only person here she wasn't completely terrified of, unlike the Cowboy and whoever'd attacked him.
Even if the Cowboy Kid was telling the truth about not wanting to shoot them, Adonis still wasn't happy about him coming out of the blue with a huge gun. Seriously, a little courtesy would have been appreciated, or at least a little less artillery. According to him, he had been shot, and Mallory backed that up by saying that he was bleeding.
So the games have already begun. That's just freakin' great.
Mallory ducked back behind the cart, still freaking out about the gun. She unzipped her bag and started digging through it, before whispering something to him. She wanted to know what his weapon was. Hell, hadn't he just said that he hadn't checked yet? Still, if other people are running around with guns, it might be good to find out what he had to work with.
"Okay, hold on..." He whispered back. He unzipped his bag and sifted through the contents. Beneath the first aid kit, food, and other such supplies, he found something that stuck out among everything else. He grabbed it and pulled it out of the bag. It looked like a knife, with a white hilt and some sort of sharpened black rock acting as the blade. He looked back at Mallory to respond.
"Looks like some kind of knife."
So the games have already begun. That's just freakin' great.
Mallory ducked back behind the cart, still freaking out about the gun. She unzipped her bag and started digging through it, before whispering something to him. She wanted to know what his weapon was. Hell, hadn't he just said that he hadn't checked yet? Still, if other people are running around with guns, it might be good to find out what he had to work with.
"Okay, hold on..." He whispered back. He unzipped his bag and sifted through the contents. Beneath the first aid kit, food, and other such supplies, he found something that stuck out among everything else. He grabbed it and pulled it out of the bag. It looked like a knife, with a white hilt and some sort of sharpened black rock acting as the blade. He looked back at Mallory to respond.
"Looks like some kind of knife."
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NotAFlyingToy
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Hansel was fast getting tired of this song and dance, rolling his shoulder experimentally as the aching burn seared through his arm. He continually tested the wound, hoping that he'd get more movement out of his left side if he kept probing at it. So far, he'd concluded that he wouldn't really be able to stabilize the FA-MAS with his left hand if he was going to shoot with it. It did have a stand, but that'd require him to prop it on something.
"Uh, yeah," he said, incredulity finding its way into his voice, "blood tends t'follow when y'got bullets passin' through ya. Theodore - the fairy - shot me. Wavin' around a gun all wild-like."
He took a few steps in a circular motion, trying to crane his neck to see around the golf cart, a frown coming over his face. In the silence that followed, he heard rummaging - the hiss of a zipper, the flapping of fabric as someone rifled through a bag. In his head, Adonis was snickering as he pulled out a snub-nosed revolver, and Mallory was tossing a grenade from hand to hand, mocking him from out of sight.
The idea set him back on edge.
"Look," he said, his voice becoming harder, "I ain't got time t'piss about, here. Y'all comin' out from behind that f-f-huhcking cart, or am I moseyin' onward?"
"Uh, yeah," he said, incredulity finding its way into his voice, "blood tends t'follow when y'got bullets passin' through ya. Theodore - the fairy - shot me. Wavin' around a gun all wild-like."
He took a few steps in a circular motion, trying to crane his neck to see around the golf cart, a frown coming over his face. In the silence that followed, he heard rummaging - the hiss of a zipper, the flapping of fabric as someone rifled through a bag. In his head, Adonis was snickering as he pulled out a snub-nosed revolver, and Mallory was tossing a grenade from hand to hand, mocking him from out of sight.
The idea set him back on edge.
"Look," he said, his voice becoming harder, "I ain't got time t'piss about, here. Y'all comin' out from behind that f-f-huhcking cart, or am I moseyin' onward?"
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ViolentMedic
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Screwdriver and a weird-looking knife. Against the giant gun. Fuck, that was not going to go well. That was like sending the Seattle Seahawks up against a team of five-year-olds. Mallory pulled the screwdriver out of her bag properly so Alba could see it and made a face.
"We are so fucked if he does something crazy," she whispered. And it seemed like hiding behind the cart was not going to be an option for much longer. He was sounding grumpy, they were so dead. Unless he meant he wasn't going to shoot, but he was sounding all dangerous and shit. Mallory wasn't sure what moseying meant, but the context made it sound ominous. Hiding wasn't a thing. And there was only one other thing she could do when she was scared.
That was to act like she didn't give a damn and wasn't scared at all, just like she used to do with the bully hiding next to her. She'd do that and maybe everything would just sort itself out.
Mallory clambered to her feet and slipped around the cart, dragging her bag with her.
"Yeah, we can talk. Long as you put the gun away or keep it pointed at the ground or something. No need to start moseying or anything," she said, trying to sound tough. Her voice quavered a little as she said it. (Acting tough around a bully was one thing. Acting tough around someone who could end her life in a split second was completely different.)
"We are so fucked if he does something crazy," she whispered. And it seemed like hiding behind the cart was not going to be an option for much longer. He was sounding grumpy, they were so dead. Unless he meant he wasn't going to shoot, but he was sounding all dangerous and shit. Mallory wasn't sure what moseying meant, but the context made it sound ominous. Hiding wasn't a thing. And there was only one other thing she could do when she was scared.
That was to act like she didn't give a damn and wasn't scared at all, just like she used to do with the bully hiding next to her. She'd do that and maybe everything would just sort itself out.
Mallory clambered to her feet and slipped around the cart, dragging her bag with her.
"Yeah, we can talk. Long as you put the gun away or keep it pointed at the ground or something. No need to start moseying or anything," she said, trying to sound tough. Her voice quavered a little as she said it. (Acting tough around a bully was one thing. Acting tough around someone who could end her life in a split second was completely different.)
Adonis watched Mallory reach into her bag to pull out her weapon... and his face dropped as she pulled out a screwdriver. Sure, Adonis' weapon wasn't much good against someone with a gun like, say, the guy on the other side of the golf cart, but Mallory's pick meant that she was screwed if she met anyone with a serious weapon like a gun, or, hell, even his knife.
Cowboy was starting to sound mighty pissed, which made Mallory seem even more freaked out. Heck, she never reacted to Adonis like that at school, no matter how much he ragged on her. Then again, Adonis didn't have a firearm. Despite that, she got out from behind the cart to confront the dude with the gun. Adonis had to admit, that took guts. On the downside, he now felt obligated to get out of cover himself. Hell, he couldn't let himself look like a coward when someone else stepped up. That just wasn't his style.
With a little hesitation, he put his knife back in his bag and zipped it back up. He got up and walked around the cart to see the Cowboy again. He didn't want to get within the guy's line of sight, but since he was already up, he might as well go all the way with it. He tried to keep up his tough-guy front as he spoke.
"The chick's right. Put the gun away and we won't have any problems."
Cowboy was starting to sound mighty pissed, which made Mallory seem even more freaked out. Heck, she never reacted to Adonis like that at school, no matter how much he ragged on her. Then again, Adonis didn't have a firearm. Despite that, she got out from behind the cart to confront the dude with the gun. Adonis had to admit, that took guts. On the downside, he now felt obligated to get out of cover himself. Hell, he couldn't let himself look like a coward when someone else stepped up. That just wasn't his style.
With a little hesitation, he put his knife back in his bag and zipped it back up. He got up and walked around the cart to see the Cowboy again. He didn't want to get within the guy's line of sight, but since he was already up, he might as well go all the way with it. He tried to keep up his tough-guy front as he spoke.
"The chick's right. Put the gun away and we won't have any problems."
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NotAFlyingToy
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"Put it where?" Hansel shot back, "It ain't like I kuh-can jus' stick it in a pocket, is it? Safety's on, an' I ain't lookin' to take lead from another form of asshole today."
He resisted the sudden urge to experiment again with his shoulder, refusing to let on that he was feeling slightly sick and clammy from the encounter. All it would have taken was three inches more to the right, and he might not've been standing in front of these two like this.
Despite his instincts to keep the gun in a useable position in case either of them pulled something better, he lowered the FAMAS to point towards the ground, however, and kept the distance between himself and the other two at a healthy amount. Quietly, he tapped his index finger against it, frowning in thought before speaking again.
"What's y'all's plan?" he snapped, aiming the question towards Mallory. She looked more subdued than Alba, easier to press.
"Unless it was what I interrupted jus' now. In which case, y'might as well continue."
He resisted the sudden urge to experiment again with his shoulder, refusing to let on that he was feeling slightly sick and clammy from the encounter. All it would have taken was three inches more to the right, and he might not've been standing in front of these two like this.
Despite his instincts to keep the gun in a useable position in case either of them pulled something better, he lowered the FAMAS to point towards the ground, however, and kept the distance between himself and the other two at a healthy amount. Quietly, he tapped his index finger against it, frowning in thought before speaking again.
"What's y'all's plan?" he snapped, aiming the question towards Mallory. She looked more subdued than Alba, easier to press.
"Unless it was what I interrupted jus' now. In which case, y'might as well continue."