The Management

[Sh4dE]

((FR05 Giselle Fillmore continued from this leaves me quite discheesed))

Giselle almost lost hope of them being on the cruise ship. They were not in the pool, when she arrived there, at least. Betrayal, again. Anthony, Emmy, she couldn't even trust Fisk and Vasily anymore. She tried to find an optimistic explaination on what could have happened for them to leave the pool. There were lots of rational reason as to why that happened, and Giselle feared that them having left her behind was one of them.

Maybe they had thought Anthony and her would've allied and Giselle would have betrayed Fisk with that. But Giselle knew Fisk longer than Anthony. They were childhood friends. Sure, Anthony and her got along together more than Fisk and her in terms of SOTF, but she wouldn't leave Fisk behind for Anthony.

Okay, she actually just did that when she decided to go for a walk with Anthony. It was probably her fault that they left.

But that walk wasn't worth it. Anthony wasn't worth it. Getting shot at wasn't worth it.

Giselle could consider herself lucky to have survived the jetties. She could've been dead. It was a dumb idea to go alone, to handle things on her own. If the Respects haven't abandoned her, she would swear to herself to never leave them again. She wouldn't do stuff on her own anymore, go anywhere alone anymore, try to handle shit anymore. Just stay with the group and keep safe. That's what she would need to do.

She needed to find them again, though. She walked around the Cruise Ship for a while, looking in certain places, but couldn't find a trace of them. The announcements came on while she was walking and it revealed that neither Fisk nor Vas were on them, which would cross out the theory in her mind that they weren't at the pool, because they were dead already. She was glad Fisk was alive, but the feeling of betrayal returned.

So, even if Giselle had managed to bring Rhonda and Xander to the poolside, she wouldn't have been able to shout 'shoot them' to Fisk, when she would have arrived, because they wouldn't even had been there!

What was more confusing about the announcements was that Ivan was not announced either. The whole thing was bizarre. It was as if the announcements were lying. Something was off with the whole season. The announcements also only mentioned people from her school, too. There was supposed to be another school, right? There always was another school. Giselle couldn't remember the briefing room that well. Were there even people from another school there? Were only people from her school killing the people? If that was the case, the producers certainly picked the right school for a game of SOTF-TV. Giselle always had the feeling her classmates were a bunch of sociopaths.

The announcements gave her more questions than answers. Why wasn't Ivan on there? Why did Fisk leave the pool? Was there only one school picked?

Giselle slowly walked across the cruise ship until she stood in front the door leading to the banquet hall. Giselle didn't look well, her pretty shirt was covered in blood. Xander's and hers.

Lot of Xander's blood was sprayed into her direction, but Rhonda's bullets also caused shrapnel to fly into her direction. Some of it hit Giselle.

She removed it herself, of course, back when she returned to the pool to rest for a bit after walking around wounded and realising Fisk wasn't there, but waiting for some minutes for them to return, which they didn't.

It was hard to not vaguely know how to use the first aid kit after having seen it several times on the screen. The shrapnel removal was not the cleanest execution and it hurt like hell, but there was no time for bitching, or anyone to bitch to for that matter, except for the cameras, and she wouldn't entertain the idiots watching this by ranting about the wounds she has received.

She'd need to ask Fisk if the wound is alright or if it needed to be treated better, but currently she wasn't bleeding out, which was good enough for her. She couldn't feel any more shrapnel stuck in her body, either. She checked it roughly. If the game was over in a couple of days, the medics would make a thorough check anyway. She wouldn't need to worry about something being permanently stuck in her, the doctors would find it, if she didn't.

Giselle tried to open the door, but it was locked.

[Catche Jagger]

((James Highchurch continued from In Dreams You Will Lose Your Heartaches))

James supposed he should be more grateful. He’d been handed a really good weapon, and really only had to stand around in a barricaded room while Bacchia handled the actual work of tending to Keegan and making sure he was alright.

But, like…

How was it possible to both extremely bored and scared out of your fucking mind at the same time? There was nothing to actually do out here and Keegan was unconscious and he still felt a bit weird about talking to Bacchia about how things went down. Like, he wanted to talk, James could definitely talk, but he got the impression that she’d either be pissed or sad, probably the former. Better to let that burn itself out.

James couldn’t even just listen to a bit of music to get his mind off of shit, since the producers hadn’t provided him with any sort of electronics for that. Even if he had his stuff, listening would probably be an awful idea since at any moment someone could just sneak up and bash his skull in.

He remembered something from history class that he had only half paid attention to, where conditions kind of like that were a big reason why all the Vietnam vets had PTSD. It was, like, them being stuck out there, knowing they could get shot at any moment, but they mostly just sat around waiting for it to happen, sort of rotting mentally. Something like that.

Wait, was it in poor taste for him to be thinking along the lines of “What I’m going through is like what happened in Vietnam”? It felt like it. Was that because Vietnam was a war and this was just a really violent, crazy game show? Yeah, comparing those two did feel really pretentious even if the life or death stakes were still there.

Another thing it was best not to think too much about, gotcha.

James was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door to the banquet hall. Immediately, he glanced over at Bacchia and put his pillowcase mask back on, readying the machine gun.

“Yeah? Who’s there?” He called out, slowly, deliberately stepping towards the barricade. He hoped whoever it was just ran off once they realized people were barricaded inside.

[MurderWeasel]

((FR03 Keegan Garcia continued from In Dreams You Will Lose Your Heartaches...))

There was something important Keegan needed to tell the others. As he realized he wasn't dying, it became more and more of a pressing concern, weighing on his mind, but his focus was still even more shot than his body, and every time he clawed his way towards consciousness something would press him back down into the murky depths of incoherence.

Most of the time, it was the pain. It was just easier to not be for a while, to hide out in a place inside where he still felt everything but didn't really comprehend it. He'd heard somewhere a long time ago that the brain was pretty good at not forming accurate memories of physical agony as a psychological defense mechanism, and he hoped that was correct. The seconds could pass and vanish, slipping through his fingers into forgotten nothing. It wouldn't cause any problems at all.

Well, not until his stupor was penetrated by motion, noise at the entrance, a voice—James' voice, he could realize that now, slowly but surely—calling out a challenge.

Finally, the guilt and the need to warn the others, his friends, won out.

Keegan shot upright. The speedy movement was inadvisable. The instant pain was another moment he hoped more than anything would not stick in his mind. He'd been laid out on one of the tables in the banquet hall, which he only realized as he felt the less-than-sturdy material of it shift beneath him. There was a flash of terror, as he grasped at nothing, but he wasn't dumped to the ground. Whatever medical assistance had been rendered to him held true, and his organs didn't spill right out. He gasped, made a noise that didn't sound like "argh" but didn't sound any more like anything else, and froze, wide-eyed, for just a half second.

It was only Bacchia and James here. He thought he remembered somebody else coming, but maybe he'd been wrong.

"Guys," Keegan hissed, "I need to, I... I fucked up.

"Ivan isn't dead."

[Primrosette]

((FR06 Bacchia Rubus continued from In Dreams You Will Lose Your Heartaches...))

Bacchia was thankful when James was taking care of business when someone was trying to get into where they were and she had been tempted to pick up her own mask and sword. But she was sure that James had got it this time and she was hoping that whomever it was, was gonna run away without bothering them. But if it was one of the others coming back, then she would be more relaxed and she wouldn't have to be worried about them.

Bacchia only jumped slightly when Keegan jumped upwards suddenly and she put her hand on his leg gently, trying to be somewhat comforting.

"Hey, hey. Don't move so much, Keegan." She was trying to soothe him and she didn't want him to accidentally re-open the wound. "Sadly, I'm not like the best doc around but I tried my best and...."

She trailed off when Keegan mentioned Ivan and she gritted her teeth. Yes, she knew that Keegan had royally messed up on his part with Ivan. But she had done worst than he did. He only made one fragile mistake. It didn't matter as they only had to find Ivan and finish him off. The guy had been close to death when they had left him and she was sure that they could overpower him easily if they had to.

"Keegan, it's alright. We heard the announcement and we know his name was not on there. It's okay." She was trying to be reassuring and she gave Keegan a brief, kind smile to hopefully keep him calm. "Don't worry about Ivan for now. You need to rest up and I'll watch over you. You.... You saved my life afterall. So I owe you for that. i'm also.... sorry for how I handled things with your friend Verity."

[Sh4dE]

Giselle felt relief when hearing James' voice. It was recognisable for Giselle on an instant. Hopefully the other Respects were also inside.

"It's me, Giselle. Could you please open the door? It's freakin' cold outside."

A little break would be just what Giselle needed. She was getting kind of tired, too and would love to sleep through the night. The events of the past twelve hours were already too much for her and she felt mentally exhausted.

[Catche Jagger]

James could feel himself relax almost as soon as he heard it was Giselle outside and not virtually everyone else. Not only did that clean up that concern about her vanishing off the face of the Earth, but it also meant that he wouldn’t have to use the gun in his hands.

He looked over at Bacchia and Keegan, just to make sure they heard alright, before returning his attention to their ally outside.

“Giselle! Shit, yeah, just hold on a second.” He called back to her, putting the machine gun down before stepping up to move some of their makeshift barricade aside so that the door could be opened.

As he made to let her in, James froze for a moment as he saw that Giselle was covered in blood. He quickly took a step back to give her space and to retrieve the weapon he’d been given.

“Uh, it’s just me and Keegan and Bacchia here. Fisk and Vasily went out. Keegan’s hurt.” There was a pause, some uncomfortable shuffling, before words came tumbling out of James’s mouth once more. “Like… shit Giselle, what the hell happened to you?”

[MurderWeasel]

"Oh," Keegan said, as Bacchia told him that they already knew all about Ivan and the incident.

Of course they did. The announcements had played, and the stupid thing was, Keegan even knew that had happened. It was one of the only clear impressions that had filtered through the murk of semi-consciousness: Ritzy Dagger's voice listing out a bunch of things he hadn't picked up on at all. That was something to figure out too, who all else had killed and died, but it could maybe wait? The others were missing still, but now James was calling to Giselle, so at least she was here. And, oh, there it was: Vasily and Fisk were out and about, but still alive. So the six of them were still together, for now at least.

Keegan let out a sigh of something between relief and anguish. The room was becoming more clear around him now, all the tables and chairs, some of those closest to him knocked askew or with their adornments scattered on the floor or freshly renovated with some charming new bullet holes. The chandeliers bathed the room in cheerful warm light, by now the only illumination—out the windows, night had descended. The narwhal horn was lying on another table maybe ten feet away, so long that it overhung on both sides.

Keegan shifted his posture to try to find a comfortable position, but the best he could do was slightly-less-uncomfortable. His limbs felt sluggish, but maybe that came from lying for what must have been hours on a hard plank of wood. Scooting closer to the edge in defiance of Bacchia's caution, he dangled his legs over, letting them swing, watching his shoes as if they were on the other end of a long tube.

Something Bacchia said stuck with him, though only after he turned it over in his mind a few times.

"It's okay," he said. "I just... we'd all do it. We're here for each other, right?"

He chuckled. It didn't hurt much more than anything else.

"And," he continued after a pause, "Verity, she, um..."

Keegan wished the silence didn't last as long as it did.

"It's okay," he finally settled on. "I messed up too. Didn't think she'd...

"Well, if we see her again?

"Now we know she's a threat."

[Primrosette]

Relief.

That was what Bacchia felt when it was just Giselle that was at the door and she hoped that they could close their barricade back up soon. They really couldn't afford to have another more outsiders seeing their faces for now and she didn't want people to see that they had a vulnerable member in the group. She really hoped that Vasily and Fisk would come back soon so that they can both see that Giselle was safe and sound and that they all deserved a break and a rest for the time being.

Keegan spoke up to her and her eyes shifted their focus back on him, making sure to take him in like a beacon of hope in the land of her darkest soul.

"Huh." She couldn't help but chuckle a little. "I guess you're right. We are supposed to be here for each other, huh?"

She shifted her position slightly on her slightly, rough-like seat and she was twiddling her fingers that were resting tirelessly on her lap.

She assumed that it was painful and heartbreaking to have a friend that hurt you and whom had betrayed your trust. Like she had done so with Emmy. She couldn't let herself fall into her emotions over a friend; even if she did feel a little, tiniest of guilt over it. Still getting shot by someone you trusted.... That was just hell.

"As much as I hate to say this.... If we do see Verity again or Ivan for that matter..." She clicked her tongue lightly and a small sigh escaped her lips. "We have to take care of them for good."

[Sh4dE]

Giselle stepped inside and as everyone else wore their masks, she instinctively decided to pull hers out of her bag to pull it onto her face, too. That would make it easier to tell her story without looking too angry.

"Where are Fisk and Vasily off to? And why wasn't Ivan on the announcements? I thought Fisk told Keegan to check if he was dead."

If James could've seen her face, she'd have frowned. Giselle took a deep breath.

"I got shot. Met Rhonda and Xander, but Emmy isn't trustworthy," she shouted that into Bacchia's direction so she'd get that information, too. "She sold me out to Xander and Rhonda shot at me, but hit Xander instead." Giselle could've taken Xander's place on the announcements. But she wasn't going to say that, because she wasn't a drama queen.

Giselle stared at the masked figure that was wounded.

"What happened to Keegan?"

[Catche Jagger]

“Wait… Emmy, like, got involved?” Out of everything Giselle said and asked, that was what stood out the most to James. He recalled Emmy’s plea to Bacchia, that Fisk wasn’t trustworthy or something like that.

Were the mentors, like, trying to actually stop them or something? It was a nerve-wracking thought. Perhaps James needed to talk with his own mentor, though that was just going to be another important conversation that he’d need to have, slotted alongside “Ask Keegan about whatever ‘concerns’ Bacchia mentioned” and maybe “Talk to Bacchia about being a bit too trigger happy.”

For now, though, the focus

“Fisk and Vasily went ‘hunting’ or at least that’s what Fisk said. And, uh, the Keegan situation was a little complicated, but basically he got shot by Verity. It seems like he’ll get out of it okay, though.” James nodded in response to Giselle’s question. She had a few of them and it was probably better to keep his answers on the brief end. He’d mostly just watched shit go down, so it was more on Keegan and Bacchia if they wanted to further explain all that crap.

And then his mind just looped back to the mentor issue. If Emmy was actively trying to take them out, then shit really might be bad. His gaze nervously drifted off of Giselle toward some point on the wall by her, neglecting to ask any further about her injuries.

Fuck fuck fuck… like, holy fuck. Just how big of a target had James painted on himself? He’d needed the allies, he’d needed the guidance, and these were cool people, right? He knew these guys, and knew they’d be able to help him.

James glanced over at Bacchia and Keegan and felt his grip on the machine gun tighten. In turn, he needed to help them out, right?

[Polybius]

((Calla Evans continued from No Rest For the Wicked))

Calla was having an awful night.

She came out, soaking wet, right outside of the cruise ship. Her arm was going through the most intense pain she'd ever had in her life. She'd lost her makeshift weapon, and she'd dropped her bag back with Eric; which meant no caltrops, no map, and no first aid kit. Calla found herself walking through the dark corridors of the cruise ship, looking for anything she might use to patch herself up. The announcement played as she searched - and as much as Calla might have wanted to listen in any other circumstances, she barely paid attention.

She was beginning to feel weary. Her steps were sluggish, and her head was swaying. She realized she must have looked terrible - exhausted, messy hair, and ruined makeup. She'd take care of that later. Stumbling through the hall, she opened a set of double doors. She was truly surprised by what she saw. The placed was trashed with makeshift barricades everywhere, which was normal enough, but among the barricades there were people. They were all wearing pillowcases with faces drawn on.

Calla immediately snapped to attention, and stepped back, cradling her injured arm. Her eyes darted between the masked figures- two, three, four.

"Wh-who are you?" she rasped

[Catche Jagger]

James jumped as the unfamiliar voice cut into the banquet hall and he quickly turned to face Calla, machine gun at the ready. He didn’t know the girl from most anyone else in class, but he still felt some relief in having kept his mask on this time.

“Oh shit! Um... hey, this whole thing here is kinda private, not looking for any more members.” He explained, attempting to maintain as clear and authoritative a tone as possible. It was his job to keep things under control this time, and he wasn’t going to escalate things any farther than necessary.

“So, it’d probably be best if you found somewhere else to stay.” He nodded. Part of him wanted to add a “sorry” to the end of that, looking over the sorry state the girl seemed to be in, but he held off, finding himself a bit concerned of what Bacchia and maybe the other Respects might think of him apologizing to someone that was essentially a trespasser.

He hesitated to raise the gun and actually point it at her, though. Certainly no need for threats yet.

[Sh4dE]

"Yes, Emmy was acting against me, despite being my assigned mentor. You cannot trust her."

Keegan apparently got shot by Verity, the same Verity that scored a kill according to the announcements. Verity was a weird girl in school, but now she was one to look out for if she had the audacity to shoot into a group that presumably outnumbered and outarmed her. Before Giselle could ask if Verity was alone, someone entered the room and Giselle quickly turned around to see who it was.

It was some goth girl. Of course it was, that was a trendy thing since Jewel Evans won SOTF. Suddenly everyone in their school was a goth and the hallways of Mangrove turned darker and you could hear more conversations about The Cure and Jewel and all that jazz. Giselle didn't recognise the name of the goth girl, but she seemed like a fan, just by the looks of her clothing choices.

Calla seemed scared, which was no surprise given them all wearing masks. Giselle readied herself mentally to grab the shiv out of her pocket again.

"Yeah, do what he says."

[Primrosette]

Bacchia guessed that Emmy acting against them was inevitable. The fact that she and Giselle had attacked one of their own teammates was the start of it and she honestly thought that Ivan would be an obstacle to be taken care of. She was almost impressed that Emmy almost got one of the Respects killed due to her interruption. However, she was not going to let the others know of that thought.

"Thank you for the warning about Emmy." Bacchia said simply while she had put her own mask on and she hoped that Keegan would get the hint to put his own on as everyone else had. "Ivan and Verity are on the list of people to-"

She stopped speaking when someone was shifting around their half-open barrier and she was feeling a bit irritated that it had not be closed off as quickly as she had hoped.

The person who had come in was someone that she knew as well.

Calla.

A friend. A goth. A strange one. They were close per say. Bacchia was kind of picky when it came to friends. Heck, she supposed the closest person to a best friend would be Mary even when they had like a love-hate relationship with each other. But right now Calla being there, was the worst luck on her part and Bacchia had to do something about it.

Just hope there isn't a gun this time.

Bacchia couldn't take any chances. She slowly got up to her feet and she reached out for the sword that was near her by the table.

"Calla."

[backslash]

A voice whispers from Calla's collar, sounding much more drained than the first time she spoke to it:

"Miss Evans, this area isn't safe. This group is bad news. Please leave."