((Yuka Nakagawa continued from The Worst Game in History))
The painted door of the island’s tourist association building opened with a crash as Yuka Nakagawa broke through the weathered lock with a charging shoulder. If she had thought about it, she’d have realised that not only had she probably let everyone around her know where she was, but she had also left herself with no way to lock the door behind her. Hell, there might’ve already been someone in there, and she could just have given them more time to prepare for her demise.
But there was no time for thinking; there was only time for crying.
She had managed to hold it in for the most part at the school, if only for her friends’ sakes: if they saw the always happy Yuka Nakagawa broken down into tears, what hope would they have? Even if she was strong enough then though, she couldn’t hold it in forever. As she had ran through the cold night air, the tears had started slowly at first, before finally streaming down her face full force. All this: it was bad, real bad: it was more bad than anything that'd happened to her before in her life.
No, it wasn’t even that bad.
It was terrible.
Throwing her bag down onto the sofa in the lobby, the gun inside having already being discovered (”A pistol? I guess that’s lucky.”) and tucked away in her pocket, Yuka sat down hard and tried her best to sob quietly. Why did this have to happen? Why to them? What did they ever do? Random lottery; fat chance! They, they did it out of spite didn’t they? Just because they hated their class! But they couldn’t hate everyone; why did her and her friends have to get involved?! Sure, sometimes they got up to some mischief, but they were good kids really! Why couldn’t they just take people like Souma or Kiriyama, or that stuck up snob Oda? They deserved it!
What am I thinking!? No-one deserves this!
Clasping her round face in her hands, Yuka’s cries wailed throughout the building, and far out the door. This was hopeless, it was hopeless.
They were doomed.
Grief
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The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
((Toshinori Oda continued from The Worst Game In History))
So far as Male Student #4, Toshinori Oda was concerned, things could have been worse. Granted he was on an island and his vulgar classmates were out there, likely trying to kill him, but still, the situation could have been poorer. For one thing, Nanahara was dead! Ha! His rebellion was always going to get him killed sooner or later, and to see the wannabee... urgh, rockstar gunned down was probably one of the sweetest moments of Toshinori's life.
And... Toshinori smiled and looked at the weapon in his hand. He was armed. Well armed. Perhaps the Nambu Type 14 was not an exceptional pistol, but it was most certainly a firearm, and that was good enough for him. It would certainly be superior to most of the common weapons out there, and in the hands of a superior individual such as himself, the competition wouldn't stand a chance.
Not far from Toshinori, a building loomed. Interesting... Having checked his map (only a fool wouldn't, meaning most of his classmates hadn't thought of it), Toshinori could place it as the tourist's association. The door was open. As he approached, he heard somebody sobbing and rolled his eyes. Urgh, one of the girls. Women were good for nothing more than trophies, and none of them were worth anything more to him than any of the boys. It wasn't like any of them paid attention to an exceptional individual like himself. They resented one who wasn't part of their own vulgar masses...
Toshinori creeped inside the building, gun in hand, the crying growing louder and more irritating with every step. He gave a quick look around, and there, on the opposite side of the lobby, was the source. He ducked back behind the door frame as quickly as he could. Urgh. Nakagawa. Fat Nakagawa. How could one become so overweight anyway? She was so vulgar... typically vulgar.
Killing her would be doing everyone a favour, but... He didn't know if anyone else was around. He had to wait, wait and take better stock of the situation.
So far as Male Student #4, Toshinori Oda was concerned, things could have been worse. Granted he was on an island and his vulgar classmates were out there, likely trying to kill him, but still, the situation could have been poorer. For one thing, Nanahara was dead! Ha! His rebellion was always going to get him killed sooner or later, and to see the wannabee... urgh, rockstar gunned down was probably one of the sweetest moments of Toshinori's life.
And... Toshinori smiled and looked at the weapon in his hand. He was armed. Well armed. Perhaps the Nambu Type 14 was not an exceptional pistol, but it was most certainly a firearm, and that was good enough for him. It would certainly be superior to most of the common weapons out there, and in the hands of a superior individual such as himself, the competition wouldn't stand a chance.
Not far from Toshinori, a building loomed. Interesting... Having checked his map (only a fool wouldn't, meaning most of his classmates hadn't thought of it), Toshinori could place it as the tourist's association. The door was open. As he approached, he heard somebody sobbing and rolled his eyes. Urgh, one of the girls. Women were good for nothing more than trophies, and none of them were worth anything more to him than any of the boys. It wasn't like any of them paid attention to an exceptional individual like himself. They resented one who wasn't part of their own vulgar masses...
Toshinori creeped inside the building, gun in hand, the crying growing louder and more irritating with every step. He gave a quick look around, and there, on the opposite side of the lobby, was the source. He ducked back behind the door frame as quickly as he could. Urgh. Nakagawa. Fat Nakagawa. How could one become so overweight anyway? She was so vulgar... typically vulgar.
Killing her would be doing everyone a favour, but... He didn't know if anyone else was around. He had to wait, wait and take better stock of the situation.
Yuka drew her hands away from her face, breathing in deeply and rapidly. Even if her tears were starting to dry up, she was still alone on the island, as a participant in the Program; no amount of crying would change that.
She still wanted to cry.
However, her overwhelming grief wasn't enough to eventually stop herself from forcing herself to her feet. Leaving her bag alone on the sofa, she mustered up the strength to look around the lobby, hoping to find something to take her mind off the pain she felt: the pain of the game, and the even greater pain of being alone.
What she really wanted, no, needed right now was for one of her friends to show up. Yukie, Yuko, Chisato; any one of them would be all she could ask for. She could practically hear their voices coming from the door: “Yuka!” they would cry, running up to hug her. “We found you at last!” It would be the perfect reunion.
If only it was possible.
Ironically, Yuka wasn't nearly as alone as she thought she was. However, whilst she wasn't alone, the person hid outside the room was one of the last people she'd have wanted to meet on the island; after all, he was one of the people she had just wanted to be on the island instead of her.
Walking around the small room, Yuka's round eyes begged to see something, though not anything in particular: just something to distract her, or at least something useful. The room was mostly empty though, save for brochures and a large map of the island on the wall, which was more or less identical to the one in her bag apart from the details of the zones. But then, at least it was something she could stare it.
Unfortunately, It was no good: no matter how much she stared emptily at the wall, her eyes were still wet with tears. There really was no hope, was there? She was alone, with none of her friends, and no way off the island. No matter how much she cried, or pleaded, or hoped, she was most likely going to die, along with all her friends.
All she could do was hope that she was with them when it happened.
She still wanted to cry.
However, her overwhelming grief wasn't enough to eventually stop herself from forcing herself to her feet. Leaving her bag alone on the sofa, she mustered up the strength to look around the lobby, hoping to find something to take her mind off the pain she felt: the pain of the game, and the even greater pain of being alone.
What she really wanted, no, needed right now was for one of her friends to show up. Yukie, Yuko, Chisato; any one of them would be all she could ask for. She could practically hear their voices coming from the door: “Yuka!” they would cry, running up to hug her. “We found you at last!” It would be the perfect reunion.
If only it was possible.
Ironically, Yuka wasn't nearly as alone as she thought she was. However, whilst she wasn't alone, the person hid outside the room was one of the last people she'd have wanted to meet on the island; after all, he was one of the people she had just wanted to be on the island instead of her.
Walking around the small room, Yuka's round eyes begged to see something, though not anything in particular: just something to distract her, or at least something useful. The room was mostly empty though, save for brochures and a large map of the island on the wall, which was more or less identical to the one in her bag apart from the details of the zones. But then, at least it was something she could stare it.
Unfortunately, It was no good: no matter how much she stared emptily at the wall, her eyes were still wet with tears. There really was no hope, was there? She was alone, with none of her friends, and no way off the island. No matter how much she cried, or pleaded, or hoped, she was most likely going to die, along with all her friends.
All she could do was hope that she was with them when it happened.
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The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
Crying in such a scenario was so pathetic, and the fact that fat Nakagawa was still bawling so long after the school had emptied simply highlighted what a useless ball of blubber she was. You were embroiled in a struggle for your life and all you could do was sit there feeling sorry for yourself? If that helpless attitude was the same that Yuka took to everything in life, it was little wonder she resembled a blimp...
Toshinori took another peek around the corner of the door that had been so foolishly left open (really, she was just inviting trouble, such idiocy) and noted that fat Nakagawa was at least taking a look around at her surroundings, as if for the first time. Not only had she left the door open, but she hadn't even checked the area first? That was just... well, something. It did lend credence to the idea that she had a companion of some description though. If she was unconcerned about security, perhaps somebody was watching her back...
He deliberated a little longer. On the other hand, if somebody was willing to carry such a deadweight as this woman, then perhaps they would be a pushover too, that or a soft touch. Toshinori couldn't see any real contenders (mere pretenders to my inevitable crown...) being willing to team up with fat Nakagawa, or heck, anybody at all.
The frog-faced boy leaned a little further out of cover, pursing his lips in thought. The blubberball's back made a tempting (and large) target for his nambu, which he trained on her. But... no, he couldn't make a move too soon... superior individuals never acted prematurely.
Toshinori took another peek around the corner of the door that had been so foolishly left open (really, she was just inviting trouble, such idiocy) and noted that fat Nakagawa was at least taking a look around at her surroundings, as if for the first time. Not only had she left the door open, but she hadn't even checked the area first? That was just... well, something. It did lend credence to the idea that she had a companion of some description though. If she was unconcerned about security, perhaps somebody was watching her back...
He deliberated a little longer. On the other hand, if somebody was willing to carry such a deadweight as this woman, then perhaps they would be a pushover too, that or a soft touch. Toshinori couldn't see any real contenders (mere pretenders to my inevitable crown...) being willing to team up with fat Nakagawa, or heck, anybody at all.
The frog-faced boy leaned a little further out of cover, pursing his lips in thought. The blubberball's back made a tempting (and large) target for his nambu, which he trained on her. But... no, he couldn't make a move too soon... superior individuals never acted prematurely.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3432
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
((Kyoichi Motobuchi continued from Impatience and Survival))
It hadn't been that long since everyone left the school, so Kyoichi still had some hope of finding useful objects around. He'd struck out at the coop, true, but there was still a chance he could find something at one of the island's other structures. He'd immediately ruled out the clinic; it was sure to attract others who were actually planning ahead, or anyone hurt. Maybe even Hirono, and he didn't want to mess with her unless he was armed.
That left the farmhouse, the house with the wall, the house with the well, the tourist association, and the residential district. The house with the well was too isolated, too far away. If he didn't find something helpful there, he'd have wasted a lot of time. The walled house would make a good fortress, but nothing more, and he didn't have a gun. It was a potential trap right now. The farmhouse seemed unlikely to yield anything useful, and the residential district was sure to be crawling with students looking for weapons.
The tourist association, though, had potential. There, Kyoichi could find more detailed maps, and perhaps other information. He could learn the lay of the land, and maybe find a better improvised weapon. Knowledge was power, after all. Besides, it was close enough to the tangerine grove for him to hide or scrounge food, and close enough to the residential district for him to run and take cover there, if he had to. He had to have a plan, keep things together. He could do this. He could survive.
Kyoichi went South, away from Noda. He cut past the residential district, skirting the edge of the schoolhouse boundaries, being sure to stay on the safe side. He heard horrible noises at a couple of points, gunfire and screams, the latter of which were coming from the clinic or the tangerine trees or both. He gave both areas space, but still kept them in consideration as places to retreat to; nobody would stick around long after causing noise like that.
Then he was there, at the tourist association. He came up on it quietly, board gripped between his hands. He had to be careful. There could be someone hiding.
He didn't see anyone at first. He walked into the building, ever so cautiously, and then heard the sobs. Someone was crying. He looked for the source, and saw it was coming from inside a door. A door that someone was lurking outside. The form outside was male, slightly hunched, all too recognizable. Toshinori Oda. Kyoichi paused. Oda would be playing, right? He wasn't that smart. He wouldn't be able to conceive another way. But, who was the girl? Why was she crying? Perhaps Kyoichi could just wait, and take out the survivor. Then he would get two weapons. He needed to get a bit closer, though, and figure things out. Maybe... maybe he could win an ally. Maybe someone else would do all the killing here. Maybe he could talk them into giving him their weapons. Maybe they were unarmed, or had melee weapons. In that case, he would have to be careful, vest or no. Slowly, quietly, he began making his way towards Oda.
That was when he stumbled over the megaphone that somebody had left lying around, sending it clattering into a corner. Kyoichi froze, his heart rate shooting sky high, his breathing rapidly speeding up. He was in trouble now.
It hadn't been that long since everyone left the school, so Kyoichi still had some hope of finding useful objects around. He'd struck out at the coop, true, but there was still a chance he could find something at one of the island's other structures. He'd immediately ruled out the clinic; it was sure to attract others who were actually planning ahead, or anyone hurt. Maybe even Hirono, and he didn't want to mess with her unless he was armed.
That left the farmhouse, the house with the wall, the house with the well, the tourist association, and the residential district. The house with the well was too isolated, too far away. If he didn't find something helpful there, he'd have wasted a lot of time. The walled house would make a good fortress, but nothing more, and he didn't have a gun. It was a potential trap right now. The farmhouse seemed unlikely to yield anything useful, and the residential district was sure to be crawling with students looking for weapons.
The tourist association, though, had potential. There, Kyoichi could find more detailed maps, and perhaps other information. He could learn the lay of the land, and maybe find a better improvised weapon. Knowledge was power, after all. Besides, it was close enough to the tangerine grove for him to hide or scrounge food, and close enough to the residential district for him to run and take cover there, if he had to. He had to have a plan, keep things together. He could do this. He could survive.
Kyoichi went South, away from Noda. He cut past the residential district, skirting the edge of the schoolhouse boundaries, being sure to stay on the safe side. He heard horrible noises at a couple of points, gunfire and screams, the latter of which were coming from the clinic or the tangerine trees or both. He gave both areas space, but still kept them in consideration as places to retreat to; nobody would stick around long after causing noise like that.
Then he was there, at the tourist association. He came up on it quietly, board gripped between his hands. He had to be careful. There could be someone hiding.
He didn't see anyone at first. He walked into the building, ever so cautiously, and then heard the sobs. Someone was crying. He looked for the source, and saw it was coming from inside a door. A door that someone was lurking outside. The form outside was male, slightly hunched, all too recognizable. Toshinori Oda. Kyoichi paused. Oda would be playing, right? He wasn't that smart. He wouldn't be able to conceive another way. But, who was the girl? Why was she crying? Perhaps Kyoichi could just wait, and take out the survivor. Then he would get two weapons. He needed to get a bit closer, though, and figure things out. Maybe... maybe he could win an ally. Maybe someone else would do all the killing here. Maybe he could talk them into giving him their weapons. Maybe they were unarmed, or had melee weapons. In that case, he would have to be careful, vest or no. Slowly, quietly, he began making his way towards Oda.
That was when he stumbled over the megaphone that somebody had left lying around, sending it clattering into a corner. Kyoichi froze, his heart rate shooting sky high, his breathing rapidly speeding up. He was in trouble now.
If it wasn’t for the life-saving racket of the clattering microphone caused by the careless Kyoichi Motobuchi, Yuka would have never turned around from that map in time, but incredibly fortunately for her her stupor was broken by the noise, and she whipped around, heart racing, to learn that she wasn’t alone after all. What she saw in the doorway was an ugly young man, and the long barrel of a gun.
“Oda!” she cried, having no trouble recognising one of the most unpleasant people in her class: Oda may have kept to himself for the most part, but he always seemed to be in a bad mood; he never really took part in anything, nor did he seem interested in making any friends. He was a very depressing person, and Yuka was usually glad she’d only talked to him on rare occasions.
There wouldn’t be any talking this time either, unless she avoided getting gunned down there and then.
”Oh no! He's got a gun!” Yuka panicked; she was horrified by the total advantage Oda appeared to have. Her mind started racing for a solution, until she finally remembered that he wasn't the only one with a gun. Despite having the deadly nambu pointed at her, Yuka’s fear overwhelmed her caution as she rushed her hand into her pocket, hoping to wrap her fingers tightly around the protective metal of her own firearm and point it the threat in the doorway. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to feel so helpless; even if she’d never fired a gun before and her aim would probably go wide, it was still better than nothing.
“Do-don’t move Oda! Or I’ll shoot!” she would warn him, if she managed to get that far.
“Oda!” she cried, having no trouble recognising one of the most unpleasant people in her class: Oda may have kept to himself for the most part, but he always seemed to be in a bad mood; he never really took part in anything, nor did he seem interested in making any friends. He was a very depressing person, and Yuka was usually glad she’d only talked to him on rare occasions.
There wouldn’t be any talking this time either, unless she avoided getting gunned down there and then.
”Oh no! He's got a gun!” Yuka panicked; she was horrified by the total advantage Oda appeared to have. Her mind started racing for a solution, until she finally remembered that he wasn't the only one with a gun. Despite having the deadly nambu pointed at her, Yuka’s fear overwhelmed her caution as she rushed her hand into her pocket, hoping to wrap her fingers tightly around the protective metal of her own firearm and point it the threat in the doorway. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to feel so helpless; even if she’d never fired a gun before and her aim would probably go wide, it was still better than nothing.
“Do-don’t move Oda! Or I’ll shoot!” she would warn him, if she managed to get that far.
((Yuko Sakaki continued from Little Bird))
((Just passing through...))
In the time since Yuko left the Tangerine Tree's, going through rough wilderness, and through the ups and downs of the hills that separated the tree's and the building that the map promised was beyond the hills, and after slaying the demon, Yuko began thinking. Began remembering. When she arrived in the field, she was alone. And then the demon came, right?
...right?
Suddenly hitting Yuko, she remembered that the moments before seeing the demon, with black eyes, red skin, and that snarl plastered onto its face, there was someone else in the field. Someone who was just as terrified and scared as her. Yutaka. But...if it was just her and the demon in the field, where...where was Yutaka?
Oh silly Yuko. The demon was using Yutaka as a disguise! Yutaka would never have attacked you! He's much too nice for that, isn't he?
A smile came back onto Yuko's face. Of course! How could she be so naive? Yutaka couldn't have been the demon! The DEMON was Yutaka, as a disguise! It's not like...it wasn't like she...
Shaking her head, she noticed that her arm was...her arm was feeling rather weak. It looked rather pale, not flesh-coloured like arms were supposed to be. The cloth around her arm was growing redder, and her head was feeling rather light. But she couldn't sleep now. She had to get some medicine for her arm. Some stitches, and some alchohol, and...maybe her friends would be at the clinic.
Upon looking up from the ground, she spotted the tall building that was the Tourist Association looming in the moonlight. So according to the map, she had to take a south route, and find the clinic south of this location. Her eyes lit up when she saw people in the doorway. Her mouth opened wider when she found that they both had guns. She couldn't see them in the dark like this, but she didn't want to find out who they were. Chances are, they were going to kill her once they saw her, so there was no point pointing herself out now.
Holding back a few tears, she continued southwards. She hoped she made it to the clinic. She couldn't die like this.
((Yuko Sakaki continued in Caught in Limbo))
((Just passing through...))
In the time since Yuko left the Tangerine Tree's, going through rough wilderness, and through the ups and downs of the hills that separated the tree's and the building that the map promised was beyond the hills, and after slaying the demon, Yuko began thinking. Began remembering. When she arrived in the field, she was alone. And then the demon came, right?
...right?
Suddenly hitting Yuko, she remembered that the moments before seeing the demon, with black eyes, red skin, and that snarl plastered onto its face, there was someone else in the field. Someone who was just as terrified and scared as her. Yutaka. But...if it was just her and the demon in the field, where...where was Yutaka?
Oh silly Yuko. The demon was using Yutaka as a disguise! Yutaka would never have attacked you! He's much too nice for that, isn't he?
A smile came back onto Yuko's face. Of course! How could she be so naive? Yutaka couldn't have been the demon! The DEMON was Yutaka, as a disguise! It's not like...it wasn't like she...
Shaking her head, she noticed that her arm was...her arm was feeling rather weak. It looked rather pale, not flesh-coloured like arms were supposed to be. The cloth around her arm was growing redder, and her head was feeling rather light. But she couldn't sleep now. She had to get some medicine for her arm. Some stitches, and some alchohol, and...maybe her friends would be at the clinic.
Upon looking up from the ground, she spotted the tall building that was the Tourist Association looming in the moonlight. So according to the map, she had to take a south route, and find the clinic south of this location. Her eyes lit up when she saw people in the doorway. Her mouth opened wider when she found that they both had guns. She couldn't see them in the dark like this, but she didn't want to find out who they were. Chances are, they were going to kill her once they saw her, so there was no point pointing herself out now.
Holding back a few tears, she continued southwards. She hoped she made it to the clinic. She couldn't die like this.
((Yuko Sakaki continued in Caught in Limbo))
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The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
The wait continued, and at last Toshinori just couldn't bear it any longer. The more he delayed, the more likely it was some other member of the vulgar masses would come along and see his exposed back. Getting shot from behind was an utterly undignified way to die. Well, he didn't plan on dying any time soon at all, but it would be such a humiliating exit. He raised his nambu further, targeting the centre of that broad back, and...
There was an almighty clattering sound.
What the fuck!?
Toshinori's head snapped around. Motobuchi! That fool! His father might have worked for the government, but that didn't grant him a reprieve from such a collosall failure as this! Toshinori was about to round on the class president when the querelous voice of fat Nakagawa echoed through the building. Dammit! This just got worse and worse! He was caught between an imbecile and an obese imbecile. He'd waited too long after all!
Like attracts like, the vulgar will always gravitate to their own ilk! Come on Toshinori, your intellect is far superior to their's. Think your way out!
"N-Nakagawa!" he stammered masterfully. "Motobuchi! T-thank god! I was so frightened. I didn't want to call out in case y-you..." Toshinori quivered, lowering his gun. "Y-you guys! Y-you aren't playing, right? Right!?"
Come on you morons... take the bait.
There was an almighty clattering sound.
What the fuck!?
Toshinori's head snapped around. Motobuchi! That fool! His father might have worked for the government, but that didn't grant him a reprieve from such a collosall failure as this! Toshinori was about to round on the class president when the querelous voice of fat Nakagawa echoed through the building. Dammit! This just got worse and worse! He was caught between an imbecile and an obese imbecile. He'd waited too long after all!
Like attracts like, the vulgar will always gravitate to their own ilk! Come on Toshinori, your intellect is far superior to their's. Think your way out!
"N-Nakagawa!" he stammered masterfully. "Motobuchi! T-thank god! I was so frightened. I didn't want to call out in case y-you..." Toshinori quivered, lowering his gun. "Y-you guys! Y-you aren't playing, right? Right!?"
Come on you morons... take the bait.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3432
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Somehow, the mistake turned out to be in Kyoichi's favor. It was not what he had expected, but he wasn't complaining. Yuka turned the tables on Oda, holding him at gunpoint just as he had her. The two people in here were both pointing guns at each other, bullets could be flying any second, and Kyoichi was the only one who was remotely safe, thanks to his vest. It was delicious.
Then Oda went into his whiny ramble. It was all Kyoichi could do to keep from sighing. Was Oda telling the truth? Maybe, maybe not. Oda was scum, slime, and could not be trusted. He was probably just upset that he hadn't been able to shoot Yuka due to the interference. Whatever. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he was frightened out of his lumpy little skull; it didn't make an ounce of difference to Kyoichi. He was thinking once again of his discussion with Noda, of the conclusions he'd come to, and he knew what he had to do. He had to use this situation to his advantage. By the time this game started to wind down, he had to be armed if he hoped to live. Any survivors after the first day would probably be heavily armed or hopelessly doomed. Kyoichi had to do something to pull ahead now, while he could still get a leg up on his classmates.
It was too bad he was hyperventilating again, too bad sweat was puring from his armpits and brow. He wanted to be cool and collected. He needed to be calm. This was like a job interview. If he didn't make his pitch right, he wouldn't get the position he wanted, in this case, that of sole survivor. It was time to do some acting.
"Toshinori!" he called, pouring false relief into his voice. "And... Yuka? It-it's me, Motobuchi. I was... looking for better maps. It's okay. I'm not playing."
He had seen Toshinori lower his gun, knew that the boy was equipped with a firearm. Whether Oda was bluffing or not, he'd put himself into a vulnerable position. He had to keep up his act, had to play innocent, or Yuka might get nervous and shoot him. Now all Kyoichi had to do was talk one of them, ideally the more dangerous Oda, into letting him see a gun. If he got his hands on a weapon, he could demand the ammunition, then make a run for it, strategically retreat and start again elsewhere, fully armed and ready to deal with all comers. Yes. That was a plan.
He glanced at Oda's hand, and decided to give persuasion a try.
"Oda," he said, putting as much concern and authority as he could fake into his voice. "You're lucky you didn't have to fight with that weapon. It looks like you left the secondary safety on. My uncle collects guns, and that model's a-a very odd one. Let me see it for a sec and I'll fix it for you."
It was a lame line, but the worst Oda could do was shoot him. The boy would probably go for his chest, since it would be easiest to hit. Kyoichi had this under control. He would be fine, and if Oda opened fire, maybe Yuka would do him a favor and eliminate the pest. The he could pick the gun off Oda's corpse.
Then Oda went into his whiny ramble. It was all Kyoichi could do to keep from sighing. Was Oda telling the truth? Maybe, maybe not. Oda was scum, slime, and could not be trusted. He was probably just upset that he hadn't been able to shoot Yuka due to the interference. Whatever. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he was frightened out of his lumpy little skull; it didn't make an ounce of difference to Kyoichi. He was thinking once again of his discussion with Noda, of the conclusions he'd come to, and he knew what he had to do. He had to use this situation to his advantage. By the time this game started to wind down, he had to be armed if he hoped to live. Any survivors after the first day would probably be heavily armed or hopelessly doomed. Kyoichi had to do something to pull ahead now, while he could still get a leg up on his classmates.
It was too bad he was hyperventilating again, too bad sweat was puring from his armpits and brow. He wanted to be cool and collected. He needed to be calm. This was like a job interview. If he didn't make his pitch right, he wouldn't get the position he wanted, in this case, that of sole survivor. It was time to do some acting.
"Toshinori!" he called, pouring false relief into his voice. "And... Yuka? It-it's me, Motobuchi. I was... looking for better maps. It's okay. I'm not playing."
He had seen Toshinori lower his gun, knew that the boy was equipped with a firearm. Whether Oda was bluffing or not, he'd put himself into a vulnerable position. He had to keep up his act, had to play innocent, or Yuka might get nervous and shoot him. Now all Kyoichi had to do was talk one of them, ideally the more dangerous Oda, into letting him see a gun. If he got his hands on a weapon, he could demand the ammunition, then make a run for it, strategically retreat and start again elsewhere, fully armed and ready to deal with all comers. Yes. That was a plan.
He glanced at Oda's hand, and decided to give persuasion a try.
"Oda," he said, putting as much concern and authority as he could fake into his voice. "You're lucky you didn't have to fight with that weapon. It looks like you left the secondary safety on. My uncle collects guns, and that model's a-a very odd one. Let me see it for a sec and I'll fix it for you."
It was a lame line, but the worst Oda could do was shoot him. The boy would probably go for his chest, since it would be easiest to hit. Kyoichi had this under control. He would be fine, and if Oda opened fire, maybe Yuka would do him a favor and eliminate the pest. The he could pick the gun off Oda's corpse.
Even though she had been standing there, gun pointed straight at Oda, her weapon seemed practically meaningless to her foe; he may have lowered his own weapon, but he was still holding it and still talking to her. He seemed really upset, but even the ever-friendly Yuka was beyond sympathy for her most hated classmate. He had been pointing a gun at her! Why the heck should she believe anything he says?!
Whilst he had stopped aiming in her direction, Yuka hadn’t returned the favour: she still had the gun poised, ready to shoot if he tried anything. “He’d kill me! I can’t let him kill me!” she reasoned, despite the clenching feeling she felt over the situation. Shooting one of her classmates? That was just too scary to imagne. She really didn’t want it to come to that; she just wanted him to leave!
Then the second figure appeared, looking even more terrified than Yuka was. She liked Kyoichi Motobuchi a lot more than she liked Oda: he was always working hard, and even if that was a bit dull, when he did come out of his books once in a while he was a nice enough guy to talk to. She had voted for him, after all!
Him, she could have trusted. If only he hadn’t pushed his luck.
You see, whilst Yuka was relieved to find the third person was someone she could put faith in, she couldn’t help but notice something was different: the first time he had talked, his voice was filled with panic; fear; terror. But the second time, that was gone. He was talking so firmly, so confidently. Wasn’t he as scared as the rest of them? Why had he suddenly calmed down so much!? And to ask Oda for his gun?!
That’s right; he had tried to sell them out at the classroom! Why would class rep do that to them!? He wanted them all to die whilst he lived!?
She had no choice, as she once again lost the control of her limbs to her frightened disposition. She pointed the gun rapidly between Oda and Kyoichi, her breathing becoming more rapid every second, sweat forming on her brow.
“Don’t move! Either of you!” Yuka ordered, taking a moment to point the gun directly at Oda. “Drop your gun already!”
She didn’t want to shoot anyone, but she couldn’t just sit down and die! It seemed unavoidable, but that didn’t mean she wanted it to happen A.S.A.P!
Whilst he had stopped aiming in her direction, Yuka hadn’t returned the favour: she still had the gun poised, ready to shoot if he tried anything. “He’d kill me! I can’t let him kill me!” she reasoned, despite the clenching feeling she felt over the situation. Shooting one of her classmates? That was just too scary to imagne. She really didn’t want it to come to that; she just wanted him to leave!
Then the second figure appeared, looking even more terrified than Yuka was. She liked Kyoichi Motobuchi a lot more than she liked Oda: he was always working hard, and even if that was a bit dull, when he did come out of his books once in a while he was a nice enough guy to talk to. She had voted for him, after all!
Him, she could have trusted. If only he hadn’t pushed his luck.
You see, whilst Yuka was relieved to find the third person was someone she could put faith in, she couldn’t help but notice something was different: the first time he had talked, his voice was filled with panic; fear; terror. But the second time, that was gone. He was talking so firmly, so confidently. Wasn’t he as scared as the rest of them? Why had he suddenly calmed down so much!? And to ask Oda for his gun?!
That’s right; he had tried to sell them out at the classroom! Why would class rep do that to them!? He wanted them all to die whilst he lived!?
She had no choice, as she once again lost the control of her limbs to her frightened disposition. She pointed the gun rapidly between Oda and Kyoichi, her breathing becoming more rapid every second, sweat forming on her brow.
“Don’t move! Either of you!” Yuka ordered, taking a moment to point the gun directly at Oda. “Drop your gun already!”
She didn’t want to shoot anyone, but she couldn’t just sit down and die! It seemed unavoidable, but that didn’t mean she wanted it to happen A.S.A.P!
-
The Director
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:29 pm
Secondary safety? What manner of imbecile does Motobuchi think I am?
Toshinori knew a lot about guns, he had undertaken private shooting lessons, in fact. However, even had he not been an aficionado, he would have seen straight through Motobuchi. His attempt at guille was about as subtle as a brick, a mere amateur compared to the expertise he held in acting. That was no surprise. To superior individuals, superior talents.
Still, the (poor) bluff presented Toshinori with an opportunity. Fat Nakagawa had her gun on him, and undoubtedly that vulgar girl would attempt to shoot him if he just tried to leave or push past Motobuchi, so... he would have to be sly about this. Not that outwitting this pair of fools would prove to be much of a challenge, especially after Motobuchi had given him his chance on a platter.
"M-my gun?" Toshinori looked down at the weapon, widening his eyes for effect. "O-oh I'm so stupid! G-good thing I d-didn't run into anybody hostile, right?" Toshinori looked back to the incredibly irritating Nakagawa, still threatening him. "A-aren't we all f-friends here?" As if I'd ever be friends with such a pathetic pair...
Toshinori took a couple of steps towards Kyoichi, a nervous smile on his face. "Y-you know how to fix this, class P-president? W-well, here..." Toshinori extended the nambu to Motobuchi, butt first as he closed the remaining distance. Just as he was stood directly alongside him, however, Toshinori spun the pistol around. At point blank range, aimed directly at Motobuchi's head. Oda's smile grew sinister as he pulled the trigger, then grabbed hold of the class president and swung him around, putting him in between Toshinori and Nakagawa.
And then... well, he ran as fast as he could.
Discretion was the better part of valour, and Toshinori had no interest in getting involved in a gunfight.
One down. Many more to come! My excellence is the last thing my classmates will ever experience!
((Oda continued elsewhere))
Toshinori knew a lot about guns, he had undertaken private shooting lessons, in fact. However, even had he not been an aficionado, he would have seen straight through Motobuchi. His attempt at guille was about as subtle as a brick, a mere amateur compared to the expertise he held in acting. That was no surprise. To superior individuals, superior talents.
Still, the (poor) bluff presented Toshinori with an opportunity. Fat Nakagawa had her gun on him, and undoubtedly that vulgar girl would attempt to shoot him if he just tried to leave or push past Motobuchi, so... he would have to be sly about this. Not that outwitting this pair of fools would prove to be much of a challenge, especially after Motobuchi had given him his chance on a platter.
"M-my gun?" Toshinori looked down at the weapon, widening his eyes for effect. "O-oh I'm so stupid! G-good thing I d-didn't run into anybody hostile, right?" Toshinori looked back to the incredibly irritating Nakagawa, still threatening him. "A-aren't we all f-friends here?" As if I'd ever be friends with such a pathetic pair...
Toshinori took a couple of steps towards Kyoichi, a nervous smile on his face. "Y-you know how to fix this, class P-president? W-well, here..." Toshinori extended the nambu to Motobuchi, butt first as he closed the remaining distance. Just as he was stood directly alongside him, however, Toshinori spun the pistol around. At point blank range, aimed directly at Motobuchi's head. Oda's smile grew sinister as he pulled the trigger, then grabbed hold of the class president and swung him around, putting him in between Toshinori and Nakagawa.
And then... well, he ran as fast as he could.
Discretion was the better part of valour, and Toshinori had no interest in getting involved in a gunfight.
One down. Many more to come! My excellence is the last thing my classmates will ever experience!
((Oda continued elsewhere))
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3432
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
It had worked! Toshinori fell for the ploy, walking towards Kyoichi, whimpering a little. This was his chance. He'd take the gun, make a break for it, and find somewhere safe. He could do this.
He realized something was wrong a split second before Toshinori acted, and a split second too late to do anything. The boy moved more fluidly than Kyoichi had imagined he could, flipping his gun to point into his face, smiling...
Oh, damn.
The bullet hit Kyoichi in the left eye, shattering that lens of his glasses and sending them spinning off his face. The vision in his remaining eye went red. Everything went black.
A second later, he was on the floor, not thinking, hardly breathing. This had all gone so wrong. He had a future. His father would save them. He would... what was... how could...
"D-damn vest..." he muttered. "Didn't... do..."
Ninth Grade/Class B – Boy #20: Kyoichi Motobuchi: ELIMINATED
32 STUDENTS REMAINING
He realized something was wrong a split second before Toshinori acted, and a split second too late to do anything. The boy moved more fluidly than Kyoichi had imagined he could, flipping his gun to point into his face, smiling...
Oh, damn.
The bullet hit Kyoichi in the left eye, shattering that lens of his glasses and sending them spinning off his face. The vision in his remaining eye went red. Everything went black.
A second later, he was on the floor, not thinking, hardly breathing. This had all gone so wrong. He had a future. His father would save them. He would... what was... how could...
"D-damn vest..." he muttered. "Didn't... do..."
Ninth Grade/Class B – Boy #20: Kyoichi Motobuchi: ELIMINATED
32 STUDENTS REMAINING
Even with her gun pointed at her classmates, they didn’t seem to care. They didn’t seem to care about the weapon pointed at them, and they didn’t seem to care about talking to each other. Most horribly, they didn’t seem to care whether they killed or not.
Yuka let out a scream as she saw the event unfold, too nervous to pull the trigger of her gun on either of them as it happened. As the pistol in Oda’s hand whirred around expertly, she watched in horror as the male class representative got a bullet through his eye; the loud bang of the gun echoed throughout the building and screeched through her ears.
She would have shot after his killer, but as Kyoichi’s body was spun around to block their escape she found herself too terrified to take her eyes off his falling body: blood was oozing freely out his eye socket, running down his face and staining his features red.
He was dead.
“Class-rep!” Yuka cried, dropping her gun in utter shock and dropping onto her knees, crawling over tearfully to his motionless corpse. He was dead. But he couldn’t be dead! This was all just a game, a program! Why did it have to be real?!
She wept into Kyoichi’s still chest, the tears running freely once again. She wept the name of her deceased classmate over and over to his dead ears, begging him to wake up. He had always been so hard working, why did he have to end like this? She didn’t mean those horrible thoughts! She didn’t mean to want him dead! He was just scared like everyone else; why did she have to treat him like a murderer before he died!? “I’m sorry Kyoichi! I’m so sorry!”
Why did it have to be real?!
------
Eventually Yuka stopped cradling herself on Kyoichi’s long-dead chest. She brought herself to sit upright, and wiped her sleeve across her face to dry her tears into the material. What had happened was horrible: Kyoichi was shot down right in front of her. The images were still flashing across her mind, refusing to leave her thoughts. He was dead, and there was nothing bringing him back. It was Oda’s fault.
That little frog faced monster!
He wasn’t safe. She had never liked him before, and it was just showing her why here on the island: he was a murderer, and he hadn’t hesistated to shoot Kyoichi dead! He was a remorseless, cold murderer! She would never forgive him for this! Never!
Bringing herself to her feet, Yuka resolved her will and picked up her bag. She was still devastated by the gunning down of the innocent class-rep, and she still wanted to cry, but she couldn’t stay there forever. She didn’t want to die, not anymore: she had cried that out of her system over the last hour. It still hurt, it still really hurt, but she couldn’t just lay down and die. Oda was still out there, Oda was a monster: he’d killed already, who knows how long it’d be till he killed again? What if he tried to kill one of her friends? Or someone else that was innocent?
She had to warn them all about him: let everyone know to stay away from the ugly one. Whether or not anyone would be thankful enough not to try to kill her wasn’t a thought that crossed her mind; all she cared about was keeping her friends safe, and for now keeping her friends safe meant getting out of there and finding them. She couldn’t let them die, knowing about Oda: she had to warn them.
Deliberately avoiding looking at his empty crimson face, Yuka walked past Kyoichi Motobuchi and back out the door of the tourist association. The sun had come up whilst she was inside, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was keeping her friends safe from froggy.
With that thought in mind, she set off.
((Yuka Nakagawa continued elsewhere.))
Yuka let out a scream as she saw the event unfold, too nervous to pull the trigger of her gun on either of them as it happened. As the pistol in Oda’s hand whirred around expertly, she watched in horror as the male class representative got a bullet through his eye; the loud bang of the gun echoed throughout the building and screeched through her ears.
She would have shot after his killer, but as Kyoichi’s body was spun around to block their escape she found herself too terrified to take her eyes off his falling body: blood was oozing freely out his eye socket, running down his face and staining his features red.
He was dead.
“Class-rep!” Yuka cried, dropping her gun in utter shock and dropping onto her knees, crawling over tearfully to his motionless corpse. He was dead. But he couldn’t be dead! This was all just a game, a program! Why did it have to be real?!
She wept into Kyoichi’s still chest, the tears running freely once again. She wept the name of her deceased classmate over and over to his dead ears, begging him to wake up. He had always been so hard working, why did he have to end like this? She didn’t mean those horrible thoughts! She didn’t mean to want him dead! He was just scared like everyone else; why did she have to treat him like a murderer before he died!? “I’m sorry Kyoichi! I’m so sorry!”
Why did it have to be real?!
------
Eventually Yuka stopped cradling herself on Kyoichi’s long-dead chest. She brought herself to sit upright, and wiped her sleeve across her face to dry her tears into the material. What had happened was horrible: Kyoichi was shot down right in front of her. The images were still flashing across her mind, refusing to leave her thoughts. He was dead, and there was nothing bringing him back. It was Oda’s fault.
That little frog faced monster!
He wasn’t safe. She had never liked him before, and it was just showing her why here on the island: he was a murderer, and he hadn’t hesistated to shoot Kyoichi dead! He was a remorseless, cold murderer! She would never forgive him for this! Never!
Bringing herself to her feet, Yuka resolved her will and picked up her bag. She was still devastated by the gunning down of the innocent class-rep, and she still wanted to cry, but she couldn’t stay there forever. She didn’t want to die, not anymore: she had cried that out of her system over the last hour. It still hurt, it still really hurt, but she couldn’t just lay down and die. Oda was still out there, Oda was a monster: he’d killed already, who knows how long it’d be till he killed again? What if he tried to kill one of her friends? Or someone else that was innocent?
She had to warn them all about him: let everyone know to stay away from the ugly one. Whether or not anyone would be thankful enough not to try to kill her wasn’t a thought that crossed her mind; all she cared about was keeping her friends safe, and for now keeping her friends safe meant getting out of there and finding them. She couldn’t let them die, knowing about Oda: she had to warn them.
Deliberately avoiding looking at his empty crimson face, Yuka walked past Kyoichi Motobuchi and back out the door of the tourist association. The sun had come up whilst she was inside, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was keeping her friends safe from froggy.
With that thought in mind, she set off.
((Yuka Nakagawa continued elsewhere.))
((Shinji Mimura continued from Gameplan.))
Shinji hadn't really been keeping track of direction, as apart from avoiding the danger zones, one place was as good as another (Lucky for him, he had started his trek by heading east, so he had completely missed zone G8). He was too busy looking for positives. Okay. One: he was still alive. Two: he had a plan and the necessary equipment. Three: his weapons were useful. That was it. On the downside, his friends were dying, and people were playing to win. As he approached the large building, he looked at his map, and then his compass. He had been walking north for about a mile or two, so he was most likely at E9. He entered the building with care, looking straight ahead when he almost tripped over something. He looked down, noticing the regulation duffel bag at his feet. His was still around his shoulder, so somebody had to have dropped this one. But why would anyone do such a thing? As he looked around, he found his answer. He had been so busy looking ahead for other people, he hadn't noticed Kyoichi Motobuchi lying on the ground not five feet away. Well, Kyoichi's body, anyway. The hole where Kyoichi's left eye should have been was a bit of a giveaway to what had happened.
Okay, who killed him? Why? Was he playing to win? Of course, all those questions were irrelevant Kyoichi was dead now, and whoever had killed him was probably long gone (Unbeknownst to Shinji, the killer was Toshinori Oda, who had deliberately killed Kyoichi about twenty minutes before Shinji had arrived). It wasn't like Kyoichi was going to rise from the dead seeking revenge. Shinji simply knelt down, putting a hand on Kyoichi's shoulder.
It might have been a lame attempt, but you still tried something to get out. Like I should ... huh?
As he squeezed Motobuchi's shoulder, Shinji felt something weird. Like Motobuchi was wearing an extra garment under his clothes. But why would he wear something that thick, unless ...
Shinji slowly started to unbutton Motobuchi's jacket, looking around every couple of seconds to make sure that nobody was around. NOt only was he a prime target in this position, but a passerby might get the wrong impression. No matter, anyway. He had gotten to Kyoichi's shirt. Shinji only had to undo about two buttons to notice the black vest. The thick, black vest, kinda like the one he saw the police ...
Kevlar. Kyoichi had received a bulletproof vest. Of course, it hadn't done him much good, but for Shinji it could be a game changer ... so long as nobody had the foresight to simply aim for the head as had been done with Kyoichi. But there was another important advantage: if Shinji had the vest, then he knew that nobody else had it. Quickly, Shinji stripped off Motobuchi's shirt, jacket, and vest, setting the vest aside before putting the shirt and then the jacket back on Kyoichi, buttoning them up, making every effort to make it seem like the body had not been disturbed. Then, he quickly removed his shirt and jacket, putting the vest on and affixing the straps so it was snug around his torso. Then he opened Kyoichi's bag, and put the contents of that bag into his own, including the map and compass, before walking out. E9 had just become off-limits. No way was he going to be able to explain a dead body without looking bad.
I know this is bit callous, but you've been a real help, man. Shinji's situation was starting to look up. Now if only he could keep up the momentum.
((Shinji Mimura continued elsewhere ...))
Shinji hadn't really been keeping track of direction, as apart from avoiding the danger zones, one place was as good as another (Lucky for him, he had started his trek by heading east, so he had completely missed zone G8). He was too busy looking for positives. Okay. One: he was still alive. Two: he had a plan and the necessary equipment. Three: his weapons were useful. That was it. On the downside, his friends were dying, and people were playing to win. As he approached the large building, he looked at his map, and then his compass. He had been walking north for about a mile or two, so he was most likely at E9. He entered the building with care, looking straight ahead when he almost tripped over something. He looked down, noticing the regulation duffel bag at his feet. His was still around his shoulder, so somebody had to have dropped this one. But why would anyone do such a thing? As he looked around, he found his answer. He had been so busy looking ahead for other people, he hadn't noticed Kyoichi Motobuchi lying on the ground not five feet away. Well, Kyoichi's body, anyway. The hole where Kyoichi's left eye should have been was a bit of a giveaway to what had happened.
Okay, who killed him? Why? Was he playing to win? Of course, all those questions were irrelevant Kyoichi was dead now, and whoever had killed him was probably long gone (Unbeknownst to Shinji, the killer was Toshinori Oda, who had deliberately killed Kyoichi about twenty minutes before Shinji had arrived). It wasn't like Kyoichi was going to rise from the dead seeking revenge. Shinji simply knelt down, putting a hand on Kyoichi's shoulder.
It might have been a lame attempt, but you still tried something to get out. Like I should ... huh?
As he squeezed Motobuchi's shoulder, Shinji felt something weird. Like Motobuchi was wearing an extra garment under his clothes. But why would he wear something that thick, unless ...
Shinji slowly started to unbutton Motobuchi's jacket, looking around every couple of seconds to make sure that nobody was around. NOt only was he a prime target in this position, but a passerby might get the wrong impression. No matter, anyway. He had gotten to Kyoichi's shirt. Shinji only had to undo about two buttons to notice the black vest. The thick, black vest, kinda like the one he saw the police ...
Kevlar. Kyoichi had received a bulletproof vest. Of course, it hadn't done him much good, but for Shinji it could be a game changer ... so long as nobody had the foresight to simply aim for the head as had been done with Kyoichi. But there was another important advantage: if Shinji had the vest, then he knew that nobody else had it. Quickly, Shinji stripped off Motobuchi's shirt, jacket, and vest, setting the vest aside before putting the shirt and then the jacket back on Kyoichi, buttoning them up, making every effort to make it seem like the body had not been disturbed. Then, he quickly removed his shirt and jacket, putting the vest on and affixing the straps so it was snug around his torso. Then he opened Kyoichi's bag, and put the contents of that bag into his own, including the map and compass, before walking out. E9 had just become off-limits. No way was he going to be able to explain a dead body without looking bad.
I know this is bit callous, but you've been a real help, man. Shinji's situation was starting to look up. Now if only he could keep up the momentum.
((Shinji Mimura continued elsewhere ...))