((Gabriela Garcia-Campos continued from Phone a Friend))
Few words had passed between Gabriela and Elliott as the day grew darker and colder and they made their way onto the massive cruise ship that occupied the center of the arena.
Gabriela could tell that her friend, still trailing behind her, remained uncomfortable or anxious or something like that. Maybe it was just him getting used to the concept of being out there. Maybe the problem wasn’t this place, but Gabriela herself.
She tried to think of something that might break the tension that lay in the air. Perhaps some fun little space fact that’d cheer him up. She could even go for one that might have some kind of metaphorical connection here. Like… Christa McAuliffe was the first American civilian selected to go into space, which would be a dangerous position that’d probably produce a lot of anxiety and nerves, but she had experts on the mission with her and… then they all died horribly when their shuttle disintegrated barely a minute into its flight.
Nevermind, fuck that. Fun space facts sucked when she did them, anyway. Instead, Gabriela decided to focus on the reason they’d come here in the first place.
Gabriela came to a stop by one of the corridor’s many windows and turned to face Elliott, doing her best to exude a calm, collected presence.
“So, no matter what you’re doing, you’re going to need a weapon. And that thing is not going to fucking cut it.” She explained, indicating Elliott’s spyglass.
And They Called It a Disaster
Open once RetroVenus joins
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Catche Jagger
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RetroVenus
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((Elliott-Blair Østergaard continued from Phone a Friend))
The sun was beginning to set as Gabriela and Elliott-Blair made their way onto the cruise ship.
The temperature was beginning to drop, too, which initially worried Elliott-Blair. He never fared well in cold environments, both due to his asthma and having been acclimatized to Florida's weather. But as it stands, the temperature was comparable to an average Miami night, so that was one less thing to worry about.
Oh, who was he kidding. Elliott-Blair was a bundle of nerves. For one, the two were on the cruise ship, an area he had rejected going to earlier on the grounds that his spyglass would be next to useless. He was mostly right; while he could view activity going on outside via the windows, any activity going on inside was beyond his spyglass' capability.
He was with Gabriela this time, who had a gun. That should count for something, but she likely wasn't the only one armed. They could easily be ambushed by someone who's quicker on the trigger than Gabriela, and that would be that.
That lead to the other thing: Was staying with Gabriela really the safest option? Yes, she was the one with a gun, but they were on different teams. She could just be stringing him along, waiting for the right opportunity to shoot him. Even if she wasn't, the fact that he was hiding behind a potentially well known killer would tank any attempts to forge other alliances.
But, well, what else could he do? Ditching her to find his proper teammates will just result in him getting shot, either by Gabriela or by someone else. Best to just stick with her.
Gabriela came to a stop, prompting Elliott-Blair to stop too. She told him that he needed a weapon. A real weapon, not his spyglass.
"Ah. Um—" Elliott-Blair started. He initially wanted to protest that the spyglass was a perfectly useful item. Well, maybe not here, but if they were in more open area he could spot potential threats.
He knew that's not what Gabriela meant, though. He couldn't rely on her for everything, he needed something to defend himself with.
"...Sure," he said. Gabriela seemed to have something in mind, so he waited to see what it was.
The sun was beginning to set as Gabriela and Elliott-Blair made their way onto the cruise ship.
The temperature was beginning to drop, too, which initially worried Elliott-Blair. He never fared well in cold environments, both due to his asthma and having been acclimatized to Florida's weather. But as it stands, the temperature was comparable to an average Miami night, so that was one less thing to worry about.
Oh, who was he kidding. Elliott-Blair was a bundle of nerves. For one, the two were on the cruise ship, an area he had rejected going to earlier on the grounds that his spyglass would be next to useless. He was mostly right; while he could view activity going on outside via the windows, any activity going on inside was beyond his spyglass' capability.
He was with Gabriela this time, who had a gun. That should count for something, but she likely wasn't the only one armed. They could easily be ambushed by someone who's quicker on the trigger than Gabriela, and that would be that.
That lead to the other thing: Was staying with Gabriela really the safest option? Yes, she was the one with a gun, but they were on different teams. She could just be stringing him along, waiting for the right opportunity to shoot him. Even if she wasn't, the fact that he was hiding behind a potentially well known killer would tank any attempts to forge other alliances.
But, well, what else could he do? Ditching her to find his proper teammates will just result in him getting shot, either by Gabriela or by someone else. Best to just stick with her.
Gabriela came to a stop, prompting Elliott-Blair to stop too. She told him that he needed a weapon. A real weapon, not his spyglass.
"Ah. Um—" Elliott-Blair started. He initially wanted to protest that the spyglass was a perfectly useful item. Well, maybe not here, but if they were in more open area he could spot potential threats.
He knew that's not what Gabriela meant, though. He couldn't rely on her for everything, he needed something to defend himself with.
"...Sure," he said. Gabriela seemed to have something in mind, so he waited to see what it was.
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Primrosette
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((Beau Lively continued from Rise, Rapture, Rise))
"A big spoon, huh, huh?"
Beau had checked what he had gotten as a weapon before he had headed through the corridors of the cruise ship and he hadn't had any luck of finding his friends or any of his teammates that he guessed that he needed. He hadn't been able to convince Leah to work with him and he wondered if it had been right to not go after her right away. Well, he could only wish that everyone from the yacht were safe and sound and he was going to talk to Olivia if he could find her again.
He felt lost in the corridors.
"I guess I could always fling some food at people for a fun little joke...?" He grinned slightly to himself and then his expression softened to a straight line of seriousness. "Maybe not a good idea. I could get stabby-stabbed or shotty-shot for something so dumb. Hmmm...."
He heard some voices around a corner and he paused his steps, trying to focus on trying to realize the voices. He hoped that it was friendly people. If not, eh, his bad if he ended up dying!
He moved to lean against the wall and he peeked slightly around it, hoping to see who it was without being caught.
He was tempted to drum the spoon against the wall to scare whomever it was for a moment. But then he decided against it.
This was not the time for him to do silly things.
"A big spoon, huh, huh?"
Beau had checked what he had gotten as a weapon before he had headed through the corridors of the cruise ship and he hadn't had any luck of finding his friends or any of his teammates that he guessed that he needed. He hadn't been able to convince Leah to work with him and he wondered if it had been right to not go after her right away. Well, he could only wish that everyone from the yacht were safe and sound and he was going to talk to Olivia if he could find her again.
He felt lost in the corridors.
"I guess I could always fling some food at people for a fun little joke...?" He grinned slightly to himself and then his expression softened to a straight line of seriousness. "Maybe not a good idea. I could get stabby-stabbed or shotty-shot for something so dumb. Hmmm...."
He heard some voices around a corner and he paused his steps, trying to focus on trying to realize the voices. He hoped that it was friendly people. If not, eh, his bad if he ended up dying!
He moved to lean against the wall and he peeked slightly around it, hoping to see who it was without being caught.
He was tempted to drum the spoon against the wall to scare whomever it was for a moment. But then he decided against it.
This was not the time for him to do silly things.
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Catche Jagger
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“Well, good.” Gabriela spoke again after a moment, placing her bag down.
Elliott’s tone confirmed her suspicion that he was still uncomfortable with her out here. Gabriela couldn’t really understand why, though. If she was going to fucking shoot him, she would have done it already, and she even went and offered to help Elliott.
He was always like this, skittish and stuff. Whatever, that was why he needed her. Without her, Elliott was guaranteed to get himself all fucked up and killed by some fame-hungry psychopath eager to do something “big” in order to get noticed by the audience back home.
Gabriela hated that.
Though she’d frequently argued for the in favor of them online to get a rise out of spastic idiots that couldn’t figure out how to articulate a basic fucking opinion, Gabriela was usually not a big fan contestants that tried to play that angle. It always came off as desperate and cloying like “oh look at me and how special and unique I can be.” Just play the fucking game.
It was almost a certainty that one of her more brainless classmates would resort to such an approach. If they got to her, got to Elliott...
Her mind was wandering to shit that didn’t matter. She needed to focus up.
“Alright. We’re going to set you up with a glass shiv. Not great, but you could, you know, stab somebody with it if you needed. First step is breaking that window” Gabriela explained in an almost clinical fashion. She’d seen this done in previous seasons, and kind of knew how it was done.
Elliott’s tone confirmed her suspicion that he was still uncomfortable with her out here. Gabriela couldn’t really understand why, though. If she was going to fucking shoot him, she would have done it already, and she even went and offered to help Elliott.
He was always like this, skittish and stuff. Whatever, that was why he needed her. Without her, Elliott was guaranteed to get himself all fucked up and killed by some fame-hungry psychopath eager to do something “big” in order to get noticed by the audience back home.
Gabriela hated that.
Though she’d frequently argued for the in favor of them online to get a rise out of spastic idiots that couldn’t figure out how to articulate a basic fucking opinion, Gabriela was usually not a big fan contestants that tried to play that angle. It always came off as desperate and cloying like “oh look at me and how special and unique I can be.” Just play the fucking game.
It was almost a certainty that one of her more brainless classmates would resort to such an approach. If they got to her, got to Elliott...
Her mind was wandering to shit that didn’t matter. She needed to focus up.
“Alright. We’re going to set you up with a glass shiv. Not great, but you could, you know, stab somebody with it if you needed. First step is breaking that window” Gabriela explained in an almost clinical fashion. She’d seen this done in previous seasons, and kind of knew how it was done.
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RetroVenus
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Gabriela set her bag down after a momentary pause, seeming to be slightly annoyed at Elliott-Blair's hesitance.
In a sense, such a response was comforting. Gabriela wasn't the most honest person, sure, but she only got this irritated whenever she told the truth. Perhaps the longer he stayed by her side, the more at ease he would feel.
Unless that's what she was planning all along, but the possibility of that being true seemed less likely every passing second.
Gabriela explained, in a matter-of-fact tone, that they were going to fashion a glass shiv from the nearby window. Elliott-Blair wasn't entirely sure how to make such a thing, but he's heard about them before and could imagine the process. It might be a bit dangerous to wield, but he was no klutz.
"Right, so how do we—"
Elliott-Blair's head suddenly snapped to the side.
There was a voice quietly echoing through the corridors, ceasing once it came close. Some moments later, a tuft of blue hair was visible around the corner of one of the halls.
"Someone's here," Elliott-Blair whispered to Gabriela, nodding in the blue hair's general direction.
In a sense, such a response was comforting. Gabriela wasn't the most honest person, sure, but she only got this irritated whenever she told the truth. Perhaps the longer he stayed by her side, the more at ease he would feel.
Unless that's what she was planning all along, but the possibility of that being true seemed less likely every passing second.
Gabriela explained, in a matter-of-fact tone, that they were going to fashion a glass shiv from the nearby window. Elliott-Blair wasn't entirely sure how to make such a thing, but he's heard about them before and could imagine the process. It might be a bit dangerous to wield, but he was no klutz.
"Right, so how do we—"
Elliott-Blair's head suddenly snapped to the side.
There was a voice quietly echoing through the corridors, ceasing once it came close. Some moments later, a tuft of blue hair was visible around the corner of one of the halls.
"Someone's here," Elliott-Blair whispered to Gabriela, nodding in the blue hair's general direction.
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Primrosette
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Beau couldn't really hear what they were saying as his hearing was not as great as he had hoped for and peeking out to see whom it was had been a mistake. One of the two persons - Elliot?? Elliott-Blair? (Right, two names, yeah, he remembered now!) - was staring in his direction and it made him whip his head back out of sight. Although, it might have been too late for that now.
He should have been more cautious.
Being cautious was not a Beau thing. But he definitely needed to be more careful and smarter with things. He was too impulsive, too stubborn, so naive.
Now what was he supposed to do? Should he just confront them? Hoping that they are a teammate? Hoping that the other person that he barely saw was one of his friends? Or should he just book it this time?
He didn't do any of those things.
He waited and leaned back against the wall, waiting to hear and see what they would do.
He should have been more cautious.
Being cautious was not a Beau thing. But he definitely needed to be more careful and smarter with things. He was too impulsive, too stubborn, so naive.
Now what was he supposed to do? Should he just confront them? Hoping that they are a teammate? Hoping that the other person that he barely saw was one of his friends? Or should he just book it this time?
He didn't do any of those things.
He waited and leaned back against the wall, waiting to hear and see what they would do.
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Catche Jagger
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A chill ran down Gabriela’s spine as Elliott informed her that they had company.
What was that shit about, anyway? Here she was, trying to prep herself and Elliot for tracking people down and getting into fucking fights, and then some absolute moron tries to sneak up on them? It was absurd.
She gave Elliot a quick nod, and then Gabriela lifted her pistol and turned around, pointing her weapon down the corridor, where Elliott had indicated the other presence. Though she didn’t see anyone herself, it was certainly possible that the intruder had simply ducked for cover.
“Alright, asshole! Come out! I’ve got a fucking gun, got it?” She called out, slowly approaching the corner at the end of the corridor while holding her hand up towards Elliott, indicating that he should leave this to her.
Gabriela hadn’t come to the cruise looking for that first kill, but if her hand was forced by some jumped up dipshit, there really wasn’t anything she could do. Right?
What was that shit about, anyway? Here she was, trying to prep herself and Elliot for tracking people down and getting into fucking fights, and then some absolute moron tries to sneak up on them? It was absurd.
She gave Elliot a quick nod, and then Gabriela lifted her pistol and turned around, pointing her weapon down the corridor, where Elliott had indicated the other presence. Though she didn’t see anyone herself, it was certainly possible that the intruder had simply ducked for cover.
“Alright, asshole! Come out! I’ve got a fucking gun, got it?” She called out, slowly approaching the corner at the end of the corridor while holding her hand up towards Elliott, indicating that he should leave this to her.
Gabriela hadn’t come to the cruise looking for that first kill, but if her hand was forced by some jumped up dipshit, there really wasn’t anything she could do. Right?
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RetroVenus
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The blue haired figure disappeared around the corner upon spotting Elliott-Blair.
For a fleeting moment Elliott-Blair was worried that Gabriela wouldn't believe him, that he was lying about someone else's presence in order to worm his way out of making a glass shiv.
Instead she gave him a quick nod before turning in the direction he indicated, pistol at ready.
So she trusted him. Shouldn't he trust her?
Gabriela shouted at the mystery person to come out, that she had a gun. She began to make her way to the end of the corridor at a slow pace. Elliott-Blair instinctively followed, but Gabriela put her hand up. Leave this to me.
For few seconds Elliott-Blair just stood there, blankly watching Gabriela approach the corner. Then the thought leaped out at him, what about the other end of the corridor?
He whipped around, half-expecting to see a similar tuft of blue hair peeking around that corner. But there was none, nor any other sign of human life.
Glancing at the window, Elliott-Blair walked a couple paces away from it so as to avoid being in any passerby's field of vision. He pressed his back against the sliver of wall between the two windows, eyes trained on the corridor corner. If Gabriela was focused on one end of the corridor, then Elliott-Blair would...act as an alarm for the other end.
Maybe he did need a weapon.
For a fleeting moment Elliott-Blair was worried that Gabriela wouldn't believe him, that he was lying about someone else's presence in order to worm his way out of making a glass shiv.
Instead she gave him a quick nod before turning in the direction he indicated, pistol at ready.
So she trusted him. Shouldn't he trust her?
Gabriela shouted at the mystery person to come out, that she had a gun. She began to make her way to the end of the corridor at a slow pace. Elliott-Blair instinctively followed, but Gabriela put her hand up. Leave this to me.
For few seconds Elliott-Blair just stood there, blankly watching Gabriela approach the corner. Then the thought leaped out at him, what about the other end of the corridor?
He whipped around, half-expecting to see a similar tuft of blue hair peeking around that corner. But there was none, nor any other sign of human life.
Glancing at the window, Elliott-Blair walked a couple paces away from it so as to avoid being in any passerby's field of vision. He pressed his back against the sliver of wall between the two windows, eyes trained on the corridor corner. If Gabriela was focused on one end of the corridor, then Elliott-Blair would...act as an alarm for the other end.
Maybe he did need a weapon.
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Primrosette
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Someone was yelling.
A girl's voice.
She has a gun.
Footsteps were coming closer towards the corner of the corridor.
Beau wasn't trying to hold his breath. No way. He had to do something instead of just standing there and he knew that he couldn't keep his mouth shut for too long. Guns were something that he was unfamiliar with besides Al forcing him to watch this show when he really didn't want to. He knew how dangerous guns could be in a person's hands and he really didn't want to meet his end by one. Yet. Yeah, he knew that he was most likely gonna die in the future, but he wanted to do there with people that he cared about.
He had to first make sure that he wasn't about to get a lovely bullet in his skull.
"Yo! Don't shoot...!" He suddenly called aloud to the girl's voice and he was still not making any unnecessary moves to make things more hostile. "I have a... hmm.... spoon that I would like to drum against the wall! Thank you very much!"
A girl's voice.
She has a gun.
Footsteps were coming closer towards the corner of the corridor.
Beau wasn't trying to hold his breath. No way. He had to do something instead of just standing there and he knew that he couldn't keep his mouth shut for too long. Guns were something that he was unfamiliar with besides Al forcing him to watch this show when he really didn't want to. He knew how dangerous guns could be in a person's hands and he really didn't want to meet his end by one. Yet. Yeah, he knew that he was most likely gonna die in the future, but he wanted to do there with people that he cared about.
He had to first make sure that he wasn't about to get a lovely bullet in his skull.
"Yo! Don't shoot...!" He suddenly called aloud to the girl's voice and he was still not making any unnecessary moves to make things more hostile. "I have a... hmm.... spoon that I would like to drum against the wall! Thank you very much!"
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Catche Jagger
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The response that Gabriela got from whoever the fuck had tried to sneak up on her was equal parts befuddling and frustrating.
It was a fact of SOTF that a great many of the contestants that got wiped out in the first half or so of the game were no hopers from the beginning, people that didn’t stand a chance and just floated around, not really understanding what the fuck they were doing right up until they got taken out. Thing was, people never really remembered contestants like that, so one could end up forgetting that it wasn’t uncommon to find some brainlet that lacked the IQ to pick their own fucking nose, let alone survive out here.
However, Gabriela seemingly was never going to be allowed to forget this, running into hopeless case after hopeless fucking case out here. Mariko forgot it was important to listen a person that had a fucking gun aimed at you and that idiot with her couldn’t figure out how the collars fucking worked for whatever reason. Now she had this absolute gem, a guy who just wanted to drum a wooden spoon on a wall in the middle of a life or death contest.
The first announcement had yet to come, and already this was feeling less like the fight for survival it was supposed to be and more like she was being put up to do some some sort of sick mercy kills on people that could not comprehend where the fuck they were.
Gabriela felt a knot in her stomach when she thought of it that way. Sounding like one of those edgy kids who went around like “the megakillers are actually the kind ones if you think about it” and then acted like they didn’t also torture bugs and lizards in their free time.
Whatever. Didn’t matter. Gabriela mattered and Elliott mattered and that was enough to fill her plate for now.
“I didn’t ask you what your weapon was or what you fucking wanted. I told you to come the fuck out. Are we going to have a fucking problem?” She replied, still unable to get a clear line of sight on the guy around the corner.
It was a fact of SOTF that a great many of the contestants that got wiped out in the first half or so of the game were no hopers from the beginning, people that didn’t stand a chance and just floated around, not really understanding what the fuck they were doing right up until they got taken out. Thing was, people never really remembered contestants like that, so one could end up forgetting that it wasn’t uncommon to find some brainlet that lacked the IQ to pick their own fucking nose, let alone survive out here.
However, Gabriela seemingly was never going to be allowed to forget this, running into hopeless case after hopeless fucking case out here. Mariko forgot it was important to listen a person that had a fucking gun aimed at you and that idiot with her couldn’t figure out how the collars fucking worked for whatever reason. Now she had this absolute gem, a guy who just wanted to drum a wooden spoon on a wall in the middle of a life or death contest.
The first announcement had yet to come, and already this was feeling less like the fight for survival it was supposed to be and more like she was being put up to do some some sort of sick mercy kills on people that could not comprehend where the fuck they were.
Gabriela felt a knot in her stomach when she thought of it that way. Sounding like one of those edgy kids who went around like “the megakillers are actually the kind ones if you think about it” and then acted like they didn’t also torture bugs and lizards in their free time.
Whatever. Didn’t matter. Gabriela mattered and Elliott mattered and that was enough to fill her plate for now.
“I didn’t ask you what your weapon was or what you fucking wanted. I told you to come the fuck out. Are we going to have a fucking problem?” She replied, still unable to get a clear line of sight on the guy around the corner.
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RetroVenus
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What was expected was the tuft of blue hair to beg Gabriela not to shoot.
What was not expected was the reason: that he had a spoon that he would very much like to drum against the wall, please and thank you.
Elliott-Blair scoffed. Really. That was the best excuse blue hair could come up with? It was so damn obvious that he had a weapon, presumably some sort of melee weapon if he was waiting for Gabriela to get close.
Elliott-Blair glanced at Gabriela. He considered going over to her, but quickly dismissed that thought. She non-verbally told him to stay put for a good reason; he was more likely than not to get himself hurt, or at least make the situation worse. He was already helping her anyway, acting as an alarm for the other end of the corridor.
So he resumed his duty, keeping a trained eye for the other end.
That is, until the self doubt kicked in, the dreaded what if?
What if blue hair really didn't have a weapon?
Elliott-Blair was no fan of the show, sure, but he was still a casual observer. If there was anything SOTF was known for, it was the random distribute of weapons. Some got actual weapons, like Gabriela and her pistol. Others got useful items, such as himself with his spyglass. Yet others would receive completely useless items, as blue hair got with his spoon, assuming he's telling the truth.
He shouldn't care, really. He already made up his mind that for him to survive, ten people needed to die.
but he's unarmed
Elliott-Blair heaved a sigh. He didn't want to have another argument with himself, he was growing fatigued with them.
To placate his worries, he moved one window closer to where the standoff was happening. Gabriela was repeating her demand for blue hair to come out. There was an...uncertain tone in her voice. Did she have the same fears he did? Or maybe it's just the fact that she was going to shoot someone.
Elliott-Blair stalled, unsure of what course of action to take. Hopefully the situation would resolve in whatever way it did, but if not...
What was not expected was the reason: that he had a spoon that he would very much like to drum against the wall, please and thank you.
Elliott-Blair scoffed. Really. That was the best excuse blue hair could come up with? It was so damn obvious that he had a weapon, presumably some sort of melee weapon if he was waiting for Gabriela to get close.
Elliott-Blair glanced at Gabriela. He considered going over to her, but quickly dismissed that thought. She non-verbally told him to stay put for a good reason; he was more likely than not to get himself hurt, or at least make the situation worse. He was already helping her anyway, acting as an alarm for the other end of the corridor.
So he resumed his duty, keeping a trained eye for the other end.
That is, until the self doubt kicked in, the dreaded what if?
What if blue hair really didn't have a weapon?
Elliott-Blair was no fan of the show, sure, but he was still a casual observer. If there was anything SOTF was known for, it was the random distribute of weapons. Some got actual weapons, like Gabriela and her pistol. Others got useful items, such as himself with his spyglass. Yet others would receive completely useless items, as blue hair got with his spoon, assuming he's telling the truth.
He shouldn't care, really. He already made up his mind that for him to survive, ten people needed to die.
but he's unarmed
Elliott-Blair heaved a sigh. He didn't want to have another argument with himself, he was growing fatigued with them.
To placate his worries, he moved one window closer to where the standoff was happening. Gabriela was repeating her demand for blue hair to come out. There was an...uncertain tone in her voice. Did she have the same fears he did? Or maybe it's just the fact that she was going to shoot someone.
Elliott-Blair stalled, unsure of what course of action to take. Hopefully the situation would resolve in whatever way it did, but if not...
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Primrosette
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Oh crap!
Well, looks like a bad joke hadn't worked in Beau's favor and now it just seemed that he had annoyed whomever it was who seemed done with him already. He guessed it would be better to just show his face instead of stalling. Making others more paranoid was not in his nature. At least he hoped it wasn't, he never wanted to intentionally make others uncomfortable or annoyed or mad at him. If he did.... Then he would just apologize for how he was. He couldn't help who or how he was as a human being.
"Ah, well, crap. Sorry, sorry! I'll come out! I don't have any problems with anyone right now!" He called out to the girl's voice.
He held the spoon close to his chest and then he took a few steps out into the open.
"Hey, uh."
He noticed the gun and he smiled despite it being there.
"I don't want no trouble. I swears to it!"
Well, looks like a bad joke hadn't worked in Beau's favor and now it just seemed that he had annoyed whomever it was who seemed done with him already. He guessed it would be better to just show his face instead of stalling. Making others more paranoid was not in his nature. At least he hoped it wasn't, he never wanted to intentionally make others uncomfortable or annoyed or mad at him. If he did.... Then he would just apologize for how he was. He couldn't help who or how he was as a human being.
"Ah, well, crap. Sorry, sorry! I'll come out! I don't have any problems with anyone right now!" He called out to the girl's voice.
He held the spoon close to his chest and then he took a few steps out into the open.
"Hey, uh."
He noticed the gun and he smiled despite it being there.
"I don't want no trouble. I swears to it!"
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Catche Jagger
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Finally the kid stepped out and she managed to recognize him, at least vaguely, She didn’t know Beau well, or at all, really, but that ridiculous blue hair was hard to miss. Ridiculous hair to match the ridiculous smile he had plastered over his face.
Even now, out in the open, Beau was playing like this was some joke, like this was a game where the stakes weren’t life-and-death. Looking at him standing there, not a fucking care in the world, as if he could just walk away from SOTF at any given moment and not be bothered with any of it, made Gabriela’s skin crawl, made her feel sick to her stomach.
“What the fuck are you smiling about? Do you think this is some kind of joke? That the gun pointed at your face is funny? Do you think that I’m a fucking-?” She began to rant at the boy, only to be cut off as the first announcements of the game began their broadcast.
They’d already passed through one phase of the game and Gabriela hadn’t earned a single kill, left to hear the names of those who had already proven her better in that category. She was flailing, she was floundering and now she’d tied herself to Elliott so that he’d be dragged down with her.
Everything was all fucked up.
Before the announcements had even concluded, Gabriela shifted herself, gun still pointed forward, and pulled the trigger.
Even now, out in the open, Beau was playing like this was some joke, like this was a game where the stakes weren’t life-and-death. Looking at him standing there, not a fucking care in the world, as if he could just walk away from SOTF at any given moment and not be bothered with any of it, made Gabriela’s skin crawl, made her feel sick to her stomach.
“What the fuck are you smiling about? Do you think this is some kind of joke? That the gun pointed at your face is funny? Do you think that I’m a fucking-?” She began to rant at the boy, only to be cut off as the first announcements of the game began their broadcast.
They’d already passed through one phase of the game and Gabriela hadn’t earned a single kill, left to hear the names of those who had already proven her better in that category. She was flailing, she was floundering and now she’d tied herself to Elliott so that he’d be dragged down with her.
Everything was all fucked up.
Before the announcements had even concluded, Gabriela shifted herself, gun still pointed forward, and pulled the trigger.
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RetroVenus
- Posts: 117
- Joined: Mon Nov 04, 2019 1:40 pm
- Location: isekai'd
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Finally, finally, the tuft of blue hair emerged from behind the wall, giving a figure to the odd choice of hair color. He was...someone from Mangrove, that was certain. Elliott-Blair recognized him, but not enough to put a name to his face.
Elliott-Blair's stomach sank upon seeing the wooden spoon clutched close to blue hair's chest. So he really was unarmed. Ten people had to die, but this wasn't right. None of this was right.
Blue hair stated that he didn't want any trouble, Gabriela told him to wipe that smile off his face. Good, so she was still exchanging words instead of gunfire. Elliott-Blair moved another window closer, placing him right next to Gabriela. All he needed to do was tap her on the shoulder and somehow convince her that shooting blue hair wasn't worth it. Such a thing may not be easy, but he hoped he learned his lesson from the last time he confronted her.
The game, it seems, had other ideas.
Ritzy Daggers' broadcast was loud and clear as she rattled off the names of the deceased, as well as those responsible for their fates. First a Verity Stewart pushed a Timothy Torales overboard. Okay, that's two names Elliott-Blair didn't recognize. Then a Carol Hong pushed...Oliver? Oliver Sheffield?
Elliott-Blair bit his lip. Fuck, that was someone he knew. Not very well, but it was someone he knew.
Ritzy didn't give him a moment to breath, to process, for she continued to rattled off the names of the dead in a breezy manner. Next was a Xander Miles—
Gabriela shifted, causing Elliott-Blair to look in her direction.
Just in time to see her take a shot at blue hair's arm.
Elliott-Blair's stomach sank upon seeing the wooden spoon clutched close to blue hair's chest. So he really was unarmed. Ten people had to die, but this wasn't right. None of this was right.
Blue hair stated that he didn't want any trouble, Gabriela told him to wipe that smile off his face. Good, so she was still exchanging words instead of gunfire. Elliott-Blair moved another window closer, placing him right next to Gabriela. All he needed to do was tap her on the shoulder and somehow convince her that shooting blue hair wasn't worth it. Such a thing may not be easy, but he hoped he learned his lesson from the last time he confronted her.
The game, it seems, had other ideas.
Ritzy Daggers' broadcast was loud and clear as she rattled off the names of the deceased, as well as those responsible for their fates. First a Verity Stewart pushed a Timothy Torales overboard. Okay, that's two names Elliott-Blair didn't recognize. Then a Carol Hong pushed...Oliver? Oliver Sheffield?
Elliott-Blair bit his lip. Fuck, that was someone he knew. Not very well, but it was someone he knew.
Ritzy didn't give him a moment to breath, to process, for she continued to rattled off the names of the dead in a breezy manner. Next was a Xander Miles—
Gabriela shifted, causing Elliott-Blair to look in her direction.
Just in time to see her take a shot at blue hair's arm.
avatar by pan, sprite by the wonderful Yugikun
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Primrosette
- Posts: 900
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
Oh, crappy crap!
Smiling only made her more angry at him and Beau felt his smile fading away as he knew that he hadn't meant to make her more upset. He was about to cut in on her rant but the announcement decided to do that for her instead. His attention was now on the deaths that were blaring out of the speakers and hearing both the names of victims and killers were crushing to his heart dearly.
Even the ones that he didn't know personal. It hurt to hear.
Xander Miles.
Wait.
His eyes widened in shock.
He saw sudden movement from Gabriela.
"Oh shit-"
The gun went off and his body tried to move itself to go back to hiding around the corner. Okay, it wasn't really a hiding place for him, but it was better than nothing.
His arm was stinging.
His arm was bleeding a little.
She had grazed him.
He jerked back up against a wall.
He did the only thing that came to mind.
He threw the spoon with his good arm towards Gabby's face.
And then he sped down the corridor, making sure to zigzag to avoid getting shot at again.
He didn't want to die yet. Not yet!
((Beau Lively continued in YOO, GUYS! I TOTALLY GOT SHOT ON TV!! NOT CLICKBAIT, NOT CLICKBAIT!!))
Smiling only made her more angry at him and Beau felt his smile fading away as he knew that he hadn't meant to make her more upset. He was about to cut in on her rant but the announcement decided to do that for her instead. His attention was now on the deaths that were blaring out of the speakers and hearing both the names of victims and killers were crushing to his heart dearly.
Even the ones that he didn't know personal. It hurt to hear.
Xander Miles.
Wait.
His eyes widened in shock.
He saw sudden movement from Gabriela.
"Oh shit-"
The gun went off and his body tried to move itself to go back to hiding around the corner. Okay, it wasn't really a hiding place for him, but it was better than nothing.
His arm was stinging.
His arm was bleeding a little.
She had grazed him.
He jerked back up against a wall.
He did the only thing that came to mind.
He threw the spoon with his good arm towards Gabby's face.
And then he sped down the corridor, making sure to zigzag to avoid getting shot at again.
He didn't want to die yet. Not yet!
((Beau Lively continued in YOO, GUYS! I TOTALLY GOT SHOT ON TV!! NOT CLICKBAIT, NOT CLICKBAIT!!))