The place had been forted up.
((Buddy Underwood, continued from Someday We Won't Remember This))
Which was why there were all those chairs and tables, leanin' right up against the front door. There were also a couple stoppin' the back door from gettin' used, but not to the same extent as the front one — still needed a route of escape if any uncool dude came in, after all. The area behind the bar — the bit of the bar where the barkeep always sat — was where everyone had slept or took a break throughout the day, idea suggested by Buddy himself. Given that the back door was the only point where a baddie comin' in was a risk, he told the rest of the group that sleepin' in a place where they couldn't immediately get seen by said bad dude was probably for the best. Which, of course, they took him up on. After they set up the barricades, after they decided to keep guards on shift, that was one of the major things decided, and this guy was the brains beside it all.
...Well, he was pretty sure they wouldn't really think of him as the brains — 'specially given how he woke them all up by playin' the piano earlier that mornin' — but hey, Buddy's plan was still goin' as normal. Bein' seen the way he was just helped that.
But yeah. That was where he was. It was his turn to keep guard duty up, and he was fulfillin' that by sittin' on the bar, sledgehammer in his hands. The other four (new guy stayed, nobody else came) were milling 'round, somewhere, but it didn't matter too much. He didn't need the company. All he needed to do was-
Check the back door. All he needed to do was check the back door.
So he pushed himself off the bar. Started headin' to the storeroom. Kept a head out, just t'see if anyone here was doin' anything he needed to note.
so this is the part where i regret making an elvis impersonator when i've never listened to an elvis song in my life, is
Phase 4 (37+ Hours)
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Wham Yubeesling
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((Leo Menendez continued from Someday We Won't Remember This)
This wasn't so bad, really.
The five of them had been holed up for most of the day and into the night by now. Leo had taken Edward up on his offer of food, finally, and that plus a few hours of sleep had him almost back to feeling like himself by the time Buddy decided to go to town on the piano.
The announcement had been bad, like the two before it. Leo hadn't commented on it, despite the way it made his stomach lurch. He didn't think there was really anything to say. They all understood that people who had shown up on the announcements were to be treated with caution if they approached the doors of the pub, and that was about it. Anything else was just rubbing salt in the wounds left behind by the friends and classmates they'd lost.
Now, Leo was seated on the floor behind the bar, back resting against the bar itself. He'd found himself unable to properly get back to sleep after the piano incident, but he'd been dozing off and on in between sparse conversation with Edward and the girls while Buddy kept watch out in the main part of the pub. The ringing in his ear hadn't subsided; it was mildly worrying but mostly annoying. He hadn't mentioned it to the others, but he thought they might have noticed him asking them to repeat themselves every once in a while if they were sitting to his right.
Leo stretched a little, shifting his position, and reached up to absently comb his fingers through his hair. He'd let it down earlier so he could sleep more comfortably, and hadn't gotten around to putting it back in its usual ponytail just yet. It was getting greasy by now. He could feel a couple days' worth of scratchy stubble on his cheeks and chin, too, and privately lamented the lack of anything to shave with. He didn't look good with a beard.
Movement caught his eye as Buddy passed. He wasn't sure about Buddy, to be honest. Leo got the impression Buddy didn't exactly like him. Probably hadn't back in school, but Leo had just never noticed because they didn't cross paths too much. He told himself that it didn't matter; he wasn't sure if it did or not.
"Everything look okay out there, bud?" He called as Buddy went by, more to say something than because he thought anything of note had happened.
This wasn't so bad, really.
The five of them had been holed up for most of the day and into the night by now. Leo had taken Edward up on his offer of food, finally, and that plus a few hours of sleep had him almost back to feeling like himself by the time Buddy decided to go to town on the piano.
The announcement had been bad, like the two before it. Leo hadn't commented on it, despite the way it made his stomach lurch. He didn't think there was really anything to say. They all understood that people who had shown up on the announcements were to be treated with caution if they approached the doors of the pub, and that was about it. Anything else was just rubbing salt in the wounds left behind by the friends and classmates they'd lost.
Now, Leo was seated on the floor behind the bar, back resting against the bar itself. He'd found himself unable to properly get back to sleep after the piano incident, but he'd been dozing off and on in between sparse conversation with Edward and the girls while Buddy kept watch out in the main part of the pub. The ringing in his ear hadn't subsided; it was mildly worrying but mostly annoying. He hadn't mentioned it to the others, but he thought they might have noticed him asking them to repeat themselves every once in a while if they were sitting to his right.
Leo stretched a little, shifting his position, and reached up to absently comb his fingers through his hair. He'd let it down earlier so he could sleep more comfortably, and hadn't gotten around to putting it back in its usual ponytail just yet. It was getting greasy by now. He could feel a couple days' worth of scratchy stubble on his cheeks and chin, too, and privately lamented the lack of anything to shave with. He didn't look good with a beard.
Movement caught his eye as Buddy passed. He wasn't sure about Buddy, to be honest. Leo got the impression Buddy didn't exactly like him. Probably hadn't back in school, but Leo had just never noticed because they didn't cross paths too much. He told himself that it didn't matter; he wasn't sure if it did or not.
"Everything look okay out there, bud?" He called as Buddy went by, more to say something than because he thought anything of note had happened.
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Irina Ivanov
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(Edward Taylor continued from Someday We Won’t Remember This.)
Edward woke up from his long sleep looking even more messed up then he did before. Standing up and planning to get some doughnuts, he realised from the hair (ginger dye was coming off) and dirty clothing that he probably looked less like the faux-lawyer boy, and more like a deranged psycho who hadn’t slept for a few days. Well, considering it was pretty late, this was his first sleep in peace, and also that he had trouble going back to sleep afterwards, Edward was peeved.
Oh, if only I can give that boy a piece of my mind! Who thought playing a song in the early hours of the morning was a good idea? In The Program nonetheless!
Granted, they were in a safe house, as short-term as it will likely be, but still. On the subject, Edward had realised that while it’ll work for now, what will happen when they were the last few students remaining? Will they be dead by then? Killed by their own? And anyways, once people got there, all bets were off. He’s seen people in the program lose their morality in the last few minutes of the game, or worse, their lives.
Tucking in his hair and taking out a half eaten doughnut he saved, he began to eat his midnight snack. It was pretty a bad one yes, but it was good, and the super helped him get his energy back. Sitting down on the floor, Edward took a look to his side, and saw Leo trying to talk to Buddy. Hah, he’ll probably have to talk to the piano-playing prick later as well. In fact, maybe now. Edward was feeling a bit lonely.
“Hey, make sure we don’t have any of those killers come in, alright? Shoo them out if they come in.”
The announcement was a bit sickening to listen to. All things considered, it wasn’t a bloodbath, but as what he’s learnt, slow days often are followed by a gruesome, long announcement soon. Also the fact that oh, you know, that it was his classmates killing each other? There was one quite a while ago, that utterly creeped him out. The shy, quiet girl snaps, kills someone and then herself out of guilt.
Let’s just hope that no less-repentant killers come our way.
Edward woke up from his long sleep looking even more messed up then he did before. Standing up and planning to get some doughnuts, he realised from the hair (ginger dye was coming off) and dirty clothing that he probably looked less like the faux-lawyer boy, and more like a deranged psycho who hadn’t slept for a few days. Well, considering it was pretty late, this was his first sleep in peace, and also that he had trouble going back to sleep afterwards, Edward was peeved.
Oh, if only I can give that boy a piece of my mind! Who thought playing a song in the early hours of the morning was a good idea? In The Program nonetheless!
Granted, they were in a safe house, as short-term as it will likely be, but still. On the subject, Edward had realised that while it’ll work for now, what will happen when they were the last few students remaining? Will they be dead by then? Killed by their own? And anyways, once people got there, all bets were off. He’s seen people in the program lose their morality in the last few minutes of the game, or worse, their lives.
Tucking in his hair and taking out a half eaten doughnut he saved, he began to eat his midnight snack. It was pretty a bad one yes, but it was good, and the super helped him get his energy back. Sitting down on the floor, Edward took a look to his side, and saw Leo trying to talk to Buddy. Hah, he’ll probably have to talk to the piano-playing prick later as well. In fact, maybe now. Edward was feeling a bit lonely.
“Hey, make sure we don’t have any of those killers come in, alright? Shoo them out if they come in.”
The announcement was a bit sickening to listen to. All things considered, it wasn’t a bloodbath, but as what he’s learnt, slow days often are followed by a gruesome, long announcement soon. Also the fact that oh, you know, that it was his classmates killing each other? There was one quite a while ago, that utterly creeped him out. The shy, quiet girl snaps, kills someone and then herself out of guilt.
Let’s just hope that no less-repentant killers come our way.
((Sylvia Veneski continued from Someday We Won't Remember This))
Sitting on a chair in her own little corner behind the bar, Sylvia carefully lined up bottles to her right.
Leo was also just a bit to her right, talking at Buddy, words that she considered for only a moment before tuning them out as idle conversation.
She'd taken his suggestion after all. Her left arm was more-or-less securely fastened in a sling - a sling made of a Mexican flag, torn down from the ceiling with help from the others. She felt a little uncomfortable about that, though probably less than if it had been the flag of Colorado or worse, the American flag. Even here she had no desire to wantonly break the flag code.
Her collarbone still hurt. She had chanced another glimpse of it when she had switched her arm to the sling. There was definitely swelling now, even if there was no visible break. She wasn't sure if she just hadn't gotten a good look the night before, or if it had gotten worse.
Either way, it wasn't serious. It hadn't even broken the skin. The damage it did was already done, was why she was with the others here instead of hiding somewhere else, lying in wait with another improvised weapon.
The littlest things made all the difference, a mistake here, a miracle there. One swing of a wrench and she was down an arm and a set of plans. One too-loose set of shoes and she was alive and here rather than caught and killed.
It still wasn't doing her any good to keep thinking about what had happened and what hadn't, so she had been glad whenever the others had made conversation. Too bad the conversation didn't seem very interesting right now. Too bad it was almost too dark to distract herself by evenly spacing out bottles on the bar surface.
Almost. With a measured movement she placed down another, and began to move all the others over to make room.
Sitting on a chair in her own little corner behind the bar, Sylvia carefully lined up bottles to her right.
Leo was also just a bit to her right, talking at Buddy, words that she considered for only a moment before tuning them out as idle conversation.
She'd taken his suggestion after all. Her left arm was more-or-less securely fastened in a sling - a sling made of a Mexican flag, torn down from the ceiling with help from the others. She felt a little uncomfortable about that, though probably less than if it had been the flag of Colorado or worse, the American flag. Even here she had no desire to wantonly break the flag code.
Her collarbone still hurt. She had chanced another glimpse of it when she had switched her arm to the sling. There was definitely swelling now, even if there was no visible break. She wasn't sure if she just hadn't gotten a good look the night before, or if it had gotten worse.
Either way, it wasn't serious. It hadn't even broken the skin. The damage it did was already done, was why she was with the others here instead of hiding somewhere else, lying in wait with another improvised weapon.
The littlest things made all the difference, a mistake here, a miracle there. One swing of a wrench and she was down an arm and a set of plans. One too-loose set of shoes and she was alive and here rather than caught and killed.
It still wasn't doing her any good to keep thinking about what had happened and what hadn't, so she had been glad whenever the others had made conversation. Too bad the conversation didn't seem very interesting right now. Too bad it was almost too dark to distract herself by evenly spacing out bottles on the bar surface.
Almost. With a measured movement she placed down another, and began to move all the others over to make room.
This signature intentionally left blank.
((Charlotte Pemberton continued from Someday We Won’t Remember This))
Charlie had always been the type to worry.
In a sense, she’d come to accept that. And it always felt like there was something to worry about, even back home. Did she do good on that assignment? Was going to college better than starting your first service? Did she use up data while playing Militia Mobile? When buying a gift for Toni, should she have gotten something cheaper? Did she lock the door before leaving the house? Was she going to be picked up for the Program? Did she come off bad?
It was stuff along the same vein, always.
And since the others had shown up, her thoughts had gone through a cycle.
Imagine a knife stick out of a body, or a head crushing under a hammer like a watermelon. Shake that thought away, it’s horrible. Take a few breaths. Look at the barricade. Wonder if it was sturdy enough. Gently push it. Get some relief from it barely moving. Look at the back. Imagine someone coming in. Close your eyes and give yourself another deep breath. Tell yourself to not worry as much. Wonder if you come off weird. Sit or lay back down.
And eventually it’d start up again.
Back home, she did have some ways to make herself stop… dwelling, she guessed. Sometimes she’d go out and find soldiers, sometimes she’d exercise, sometimes she’d go to the flea market or other places, sometimes she cooked. All things that her counselor approved of when dealing with stress like this. There were other things that helped, too.
Let yourself breathe. Count to ten, breathe in and out. Just take a few moments to breath.
Of course, the cycle had been broken in other ways, too. Sometimes they’d talk. But then there was the loud piano playing. Charlie had been on the floor, lost deep in her thoughts, right as she heard it right the fuck out of nowhere. Of course, it’d been someone in the group, but it still made her jump.
She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, points for having fun, she guessed. On the other… her eyes had instantly locked onto the backroom, then the barricade.
That’d been a while ago. And now it was his-- Buddy, she thought his name was-- turn for guard duty.
Charlie was seated at a table, but she leaned in. She tightened her eyes, tensed up, clenched her fist resting on the table, at the word “killers.”
She needed another deep breath.
Then, she stood up.
If she was needed, then she’d do what she could.
Charlie had always been the type to worry.
In a sense, she’d come to accept that. And it always felt like there was something to worry about, even back home. Did she do good on that assignment? Was going to college better than starting your first service? Did she use up data while playing Militia Mobile? When buying a gift for Toni, should she have gotten something cheaper? Did she lock the door before leaving the house? Was she going to be picked up for the Program? Did she come off bad?
It was stuff along the same vein, always.
And since the others had shown up, her thoughts had gone through a cycle.
Imagine a knife stick out of a body, or a head crushing under a hammer like a watermelon. Shake that thought away, it’s horrible. Take a few breaths. Look at the barricade. Wonder if it was sturdy enough. Gently push it. Get some relief from it barely moving. Look at the back. Imagine someone coming in. Close your eyes and give yourself another deep breath. Tell yourself to not worry as much. Wonder if you come off weird. Sit or lay back down.
And eventually it’d start up again.
Back home, she did have some ways to make herself stop… dwelling, she guessed. Sometimes she’d go out and find soldiers, sometimes she’d exercise, sometimes she’d go to the flea market or other places, sometimes she cooked. All things that her counselor approved of when dealing with stress like this. There were other things that helped, too.
Let yourself breathe. Count to ten, breathe in and out. Just take a few moments to breath.
Of course, the cycle had been broken in other ways, too. Sometimes they’d talk. But then there was the loud piano playing. Charlie had been on the floor, lost deep in her thoughts, right as she heard it right the fuck out of nowhere. Of course, it’d been someone in the group, but it still made her jump.
She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, points for having fun, she guessed. On the other… her eyes had instantly locked onto the backroom, then the barricade.
That’d been a while ago. And now it was his-- Buddy, she thought his name was-- turn for guard duty.
Charlie was seated at a table, but she leaned in. She tightened her eyes, tensed up, clenched her fist resting on the table, at the word “killers.”
She needed another deep breath.
Then, she stood up.
If she was needed, then she’d do what she could.
((Danielle Baumgartner continued from Tomb of the Forgotten))
She couldn’t shake the idea that she was doing something wrong.
From a purely objective standpoint, she was doing fine. Danielle Baumgartner was still alive, and in good enough health to put up a fight. Her past performance, though, didn’t sit well with her. After her confrontation in the graveyard, she’d spent the next day running and hiding, catching sleep while nestled in foliage. Sure, it kept her alive, but Danielle felt like she should be doing more.
She should be killing people.
Back in the graveyard, she’d shot the boy on a whim, not really caring about if it connected in the moment. Several hours later, when she’d learned that that boy hadn’t died, his survival bugged her. The whole ordeal didn’t look great to everyone watching back home as is, and she couldn’t even kill him? It was unbelievable.
Danielle felt like she wasn't just disappointing herself. She was disappointing her stepfather. Her country. Perhaps even the General himself. The Program was a test she felt ready for, but her performance wasn’t up to snuff. Sure, she wasn’t failing, but she also wasn’t passing with flying colors.
These thoughts were putting her in a dour mood. Danielle crept down an alleyway, scurrying from cover to cover, keeping her hand on her gun. She’d almost lost it before, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to lose it again. Over the past few hours, she’d developed a habit of squeezing it, as if to remind herself that it was still there.
It was getting dark, and Danielle was getting tired. As hypervigilant as she was, she knew she needed to get some rest to. It’d be nice to curl up somewhere, and give herself the luxury of letting her guard down - even if it was just a little bit. Danielle assured herself that being well-rested bode well for her future success. She was sure of it.
She had to he sure.
Her next hiding spot was behind a dumpster, where she was currently crouching behind. A little ways down the opposite wall was the only door that seemed unlocked. While she didn’t want to find somewhere people had been, she also didn’t want to spend more than thirty seconds trying to get into a building. Besides, people had been running around the island for nearly two days now. Not everyone was as smart as Danielle, and closed doors behind them.
It paid to be cautious. Danielle darted across the alley, and gingerly pressed her palms to the door. As soon as it opened enough for her to squeeze through, she hazarded a peek inside - seemingly empty. She gave her gun another reassuring squeeze before ducking into the storeroom.
She couldn’t shake the idea that she was doing something wrong.
From a purely objective standpoint, she was doing fine. Danielle Baumgartner was still alive, and in good enough health to put up a fight. Her past performance, though, didn’t sit well with her. After her confrontation in the graveyard, she’d spent the next day running and hiding, catching sleep while nestled in foliage. Sure, it kept her alive, but Danielle felt like she should be doing more.
She should be killing people.
Back in the graveyard, she’d shot the boy on a whim, not really caring about if it connected in the moment. Several hours later, when she’d learned that that boy hadn’t died, his survival bugged her. The whole ordeal didn’t look great to everyone watching back home as is, and she couldn’t even kill him? It was unbelievable.
Danielle felt like she wasn't just disappointing herself. She was disappointing her stepfather. Her country. Perhaps even the General himself. The Program was a test she felt ready for, but her performance wasn’t up to snuff. Sure, she wasn’t failing, but she also wasn’t passing with flying colors.
These thoughts were putting her in a dour mood. Danielle crept down an alleyway, scurrying from cover to cover, keeping her hand on her gun. She’d almost lost it before, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to lose it again. Over the past few hours, she’d developed a habit of squeezing it, as if to remind herself that it was still there.
It was getting dark, and Danielle was getting tired. As hypervigilant as she was, she knew she needed to get some rest to. It’d be nice to curl up somewhere, and give herself the luxury of letting her guard down - even if it was just a little bit. Danielle assured herself that being well-rested bode well for her future success. She was sure of it.
She had to he sure.
Her next hiding spot was behind a dumpster, where she was currently crouching behind. A little ways down the opposite wall was the only door that seemed unlocked. While she didn’t want to find somewhere people had been, she also didn’t want to spend more than thirty seconds trying to get into a building. Besides, people had been running around the island for nearly two days now. Not everyone was as smart as Danielle, and closed doors behind them.
It paid to be cautious. Danielle darted across the alley, and gingerly pressed her palms to the door. As soon as it opened enough for her to squeeze through, she hazarded a peek inside - seemingly empty. She gave her gun another reassuring squeeze before ducking into the storeroom.
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Wham Yubeesling
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"Think so, just have to check the storeroom, but-"
A noise, comin' right from the one place he hadn't checked yet.
...Well, y'know what they say about leavin' the best for last. Sorta wished that like, the best had been saved for Eddie or, like, someone not him, but whatever. If there was one thing this place had taught him is that the assholes around here were constantly in your face. The fact that Buddy had nearly gone an entire day without seeing one (if you didn't count how Eddie felt about him doin' his jig on the piano, given all the fuckin' scowling) was honestly prolly the exception that proved the rule, or somethin'.
Could also be proof that the whole safehouse thing was workin', but he'd need a little bit more time to determine that. Hopefully bein' here was a good thing.
He mouthed a shuuuuusssshhhhh to the rest of the group as he clutched the sledgehammer tighter. Felt his heart tryin' to rip itself outta his chest as he took the distance to the storeroom, hopin' to catch whatever the voice was. He looked around, tried ta find a shape in the darkness, and
A noise, comin' right from the one place he hadn't checked yet.
...Well, y'know what they say about leavin' the best for last. Sorta wished that like, the best had been saved for Eddie or, like, someone not him, but whatever. If there was one thing this place had taught him is that the assholes around here were constantly in your face. The fact that Buddy had nearly gone an entire day without seeing one (if you didn't count how Eddie felt about him doin' his jig on the piano, given all the fuckin' scowling) was honestly prolly the exception that proved the rule, or somethin'.
Could also be proof that the whole safehouse thing was workin', but he'd need a little bit more time to determine that. Hopefully bein' here was a good thing.
He mouthed a shuuuuusssshhhhh to the rest of the group as he clutched the sledgehammer tighter. Felt his heart tryin' to rip itself outta his chest as he took the distance to the storeroom, hopin' to catch whatever the voice was. He looked around, tried ta find a shape in the darkness, and
Leo had only a brief second to be put off by Buddy shushing him. The next second, he realized why Buddy would have done that.
The second after that, the gunfire started.
The second after that, the gunfire started.
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Irina Ivanov
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One moment, he was eating a doughnut, then as if it were magic, it turned into mayhem. Ducking for cover under the bar, Edward had to clasp his hands onto his mouth to prevent himself from screaming and causing even more chaos.
For a few seconds after Buddy told him to shush, Edward was annoyed, but also filled with dread. This was the bloke that banged the piano, woke everyone up, and now he was telling them to be quiet? Either this guy was extremely hypocritical, or something made him like that. Something horrible, something...
Edward snapped out of it when a loud gunshot came out of nowhere, and he hid like a coward. This was the most eventful thing he's been in since coming here. Sure, he's heard yelling from somewhere, and came across dead bodies of horrifying familiarity, but this was life or death. A real fight.
If only he had his bag! That was where he stored his bow and arrow, but he'll have to come out of hiding to do that. Besides, he doubted he had the awareness and control currently needed walk straight. He only had a can of half opened sardines, which gave him even more problems. Wasn't like he was very active either.
For now, Edward simply hyperventilated behind the bar, unable to do much until he calmed himself down. Which might take a while.
For a few seconds after Buddy told him to shush, Edward was annoyed, but also filled with dread. This was the bloke that banged the piano, woke everyone up, and now he was telling them to be quiet? Either this guy was extremely hypocritical, or something made him like that. Something horrible, something...
Edward snapped out of it when a loud gunshot came out of nowhere, and he hid like a coward. This was the most eventful thing he's been in since coming here. Sure, he's heard yelling from somewhere, and came across dead bodies of horrifying familiarity, but this was life or death. A real fight.
If only he had his bag! That was where he stored his bow and arrow, but he'll have to come out of hiding to do that. Besides, he doubted he had the awareness and control currently needed walk straight. He only had a can of half opened sardines, which gave him even more problems. Wasn't like he was very active either.
For now, Edward simply hyperventilated behind the bar, unable to do much until he calmed himself down. Which might take a while.
She had seen a gun before, last time.
She hadn't heard gunshots before, not this close. That was new and scary and she didn't want to look for Buddy in the dark in case he had been turned into a body.
Why did it always have to be at night? Why did the other door always have to be blocked?
The neck of the bottle was smooth and cold, her grip so tight she felt as if she was trying to crush it. The smallest of plans, to always have a weapon close by just in case. She had thought having the others around would keep her sane and keep her from thinking but now, as she scrambled off her chair and fell into a crouch and tried to figure out where to move, she could only hear Edward's breathing, too shallow and too fast. Infectious fear.
She was next to him, all but pushing the bottle into his hands.
"Take it," Sylvia hissed. And politeness was what she didn't say - shut up, shut up, please shut up.
She hadn't heard gunshots before, not this close. That was new and scary and she didn't want to look for Buddy in the dark in case he had been turned into a body.
Why did it always have to be at night? Why did the other door always have to be blocked?
The neck of the bottle was smooth and cold, her grip so tight she felt as if she was trying to crush it. The smallest of plans, to always have a weapon close by just in case. She had thought having the others around would keep her sane and keep her from thinking but now, as she scrambled off her chair and fell into a crouch and tried to figure out where to move, she could only hear Edward's breathing, too shallow and too fast. Infectious fear.
She was next to him, all but pushing the bottle into his hands.
"Take it," Sylvia hissed. And politeness was what she didn't say - shut up, shut up, please shut up.
This signature intentionally left blank.
The storeroom was dark and dingy, though at this point Danielle wasn’t exactly picky about where she’d have to spend the night. She’d have to clear away the bottles to make a little alcove where she could lay down, and she’d also have to barricade the door to the alleyway and whatever door led into here-
Her train of thought came to a screeching halt as she heard footsteps. Danielle dropped to a crouch, half behind a crate, just as they came to a halt. There was a tall figure filling the doorway, silhouetted against the light beyond. It was impossible to discern any sort of distinguishing features, though it didn’t matter to her. They were an adversary, whether they were a threat or not.
Danielle did not hesitate to open fire.
The gun let out three short howls, all directed at the figure in the doorway. In the heat of the moment, she had no idea if she’d even hit him. Either way, Danielle wasn’t going to repeat the scenario in the grave yard. This time, she’d make sure they went down. A second after the last shot rang out, she sprung to her feet and propelled herself forward, colliding with the figure and slamming the gun’s muzzle into their face.
Her train of thought came to a screeching halt as she heard footsteps. Danielle dropped to a crouch, half behind a crate, just as they came to a halt. There was a tall figure filling the doorway, silhouetted against the light beyond. It was impossible to discern any sort of distinguishing features, though it didn’t matter to her. They were an adversary, whether they were a threat or not.
Danielle did not hesitate to open fire.
The gun let out three short howls, all directed at the figure in the doorway. In the heat of the moment, she had no idea if she’d even hit him. Either way, Danielle wasn’t going to repeat the scenario in the grave yard. This time, she’d make sure they went down. A second after the last shot rang out, she sprung to her feet and propelled herself forward, colliding with the figure and slamming the gun’s muzzle into their face.
And before she had enough time to think about it, noises like firecrackers filled the air.
No, she realized. They weren’t firecrackers.
Charlie’s heart dropped. Within a moment, she sunk under the table for shelter, collapsing her large frame underneath. Her hands clasped around her mouth, trying to suppress any noise.
Someone was here. Someone was dangerous. She clenched her eyes. She didn’t know if anyone was hurt.
She could leave. Maybe having this many people here wasn’t safe. Maybe even if they were fine, someone else was going to-
Charlie’s eyes opened and darted towards the barricaded exit. She’d tried several times, it wouldn’t budge. But maybe it would. Only way out was the storeroom.
That’s when her eyes flicked again, this time towards a wooden chair. Her hand jumped forward, clasping a leg. Chairs were nothing against guns. But if they came any closer…
Keep breathing.
She slid herself out, keeping a grip on the chair. Charlie pushed aside the thought of smashing into someone’s head, before looking to see--
A gun muzzle slammed into Buddy’s head, and Charlie’s skin paled.
She had to do something. She couldn’t just let him--
Charlie stood up, holding the chair with both hands like a lion tamer in a zoo.
“Hey!” she yelled.
And her heart sunk a moment later, and she felt her face twist in horror, as she realized what she just got into.
No, she realized. They weren’t firecrackers.
Charlie’s heart dropped. Within a moment, she sunk under the table for shelter, collapsing her large frame underneath. Her hands clasped around her mouth, trying to suppress any noise.
Someone was here. Someone was dangerous. She clenched her eyes. She didn’t know if anyone was hurt.
She could leave. Maybe having this many people here wasn’t safe. Maybe even if they were fine, someone else was going to-
Charlie’s eyes opened and darted towards the barricaded exit. She’d tried several times, it wouldn’t budge. But maybe it would. Only way out was the storeroom.
That’s when her eyes flicked again, this time towards a wooden chair. Her hand jumped forward, clasping a leg. Chairs were nothing against guns. But if they came any closer…
Keep breathing.
She slid herself out, keeping a grip on the chair. Charlie pushed aside the thought of smashing into someone’s head, before looking to see--
A gun muzzle slammed into Buddy’s head, and Charlie’s skin paled.
She had to do something. She couldn’t just let him--
Charlie stood up, holding the chair with both hands like a lion tamer in a zoo.
“Hey!” she yelled.
And her heart sunk a moment later, and she felt her face twist in horror, as she realized what she just got into.
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1255
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- Location: there is a man standing behind you
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found it right as they fired a shot that only just missed his face.
The fact that he wasn't dead took a second to enter his head. By the time he'd figured that out, by the time he'd raised his sledgehammer, the person in the storeroom was headed right toward him. By the time he was ready to attack, her face was right in front of his. By the time he'd realized that, her gun had slammed against him, and there was a dull sensation he could feel as the back of his skull hit the wall and the sledgehammer hit the ground.
Didn't last too long, though. Buddy was used to bein' hurt. Now was the time to deal some of it back. His arms went out and pushed her as his leg went up to try and get a hit.
The fact that he wasn't dead took a second to enter his head. By the time he'd figured that out, by the time he'd raised his sledgehammer, the person in the storeroom was headed right toward him. By the time he was ready to attack, her face was right in front of his. By the time he'd realized that, her gun had slammed against him, and there was a dull sensation he could feel as the back of his skull hit the wall and the sledgehammer hit the ground.
Didn't last too long, though. Buddy was used to bein' hurt. Now was the time to deal some of it back. His arms went out and pushed her as his leg went up to try and get a hit.
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Irina Ivanov
- Posts: 222
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 9:47 am
- Location: The Land Down Under
Deep breath. One, two, three...one, two....Alright this isn't working. It never does.
Edward grabbed the bottle in his hands while still looking straight, and clenched onto to it as tightly as he could without breaking it. A sort of crutch to keep him here, and not the void of catastrophizing and worst-case scenarios. Alright, he was in The Program, he was in a fight involving guns, and did not have his weapon. At this point, it was entirely justified to panic. But he was strong, brave, resilient, and he would, no, will not die. He kept reassuring himself over and over, trying to turn it to truth.
It worked better then the deep breaths at least. Must be a placebo effect. Edward wasn't quite so scared anymore, or if he was, he at least wasn't having a panic attack. His bag was on the other side of the place, if he could run fast enough then he could probably get it. Especially since he had a weapon now, as ineffective as it probably will be.
He froze in place, on the edge of his hiding area, once he heard someone cry out. An ally's voice. Then, he heard the sound of something dealing blunt trauma. Surely, he would be safe with all the commotion, right? All he need was a few seconds, and then his own weapon would be with him. An excellent, usable, powerful weapon.
He hesitated for a moment, and then stood up and ran. Ran, ran, like nothing else mattered. Ran because his life depended on it.
Edward grabbed the bottle in his hands while still looking straight, and clenched onto to it as tightly as he could without breaking it. A sort of crutch to keep him here, and not the void of catastrophizing and worst-case scenarios. Alright, he was in The Program, he was in a fight involving guns, and did not have his weapon. At this point, it was entirely justified to panic. But he was strong, brave, resilient, and he would, no, will not die. He kept reassuring himself over and over, trying to turn it to truth.
It worked better then the deep breaths at least. Must be a placebo effect. Edward wasn't quite so scared anymore, or if he was, he at least wasn't having a panic attack. His bag was on the other side of the place, if he could run fast enough then he could probably get it. Especially since he had a weapon now, as ineffective as it probably will be.
He froze in place, on the edge of his hiding area, once he heard someone cry out. An ally's voice. Then, he heard the sound of something dealing blunt trauma. Surely, he would be safe with all the commotion, right? All he need was a few seconds, and then his own weapon would be with him. An excellent, usable, powerful weapon.
He hesitated for a moment, and then stood up and ran. Ran, ran, like nothing else mattered. Ran because his life depended on it.
The boy slammed into the wall, whatever weapon he was wielding clattering to the ground. Danielle’s had underestimated her own momentum, and nearly stumbled into him. She stuck out a hand to brace herself against the wall, the other one clinging her gun, aimed right at the boy’s chest.
Then there was a shout.
Those few seconds seemed to last an eternity, as she whipped around and saw the girl standing there. Danielle’s heart plummeted into her stomach as she realized what she’d gotten herself into. Her focus was solely on the boy in the door, and she hadn’t even considered the possibility of other people being in the room. She’d gotten cocky, fucked up, and now was in a situation she couldn’t handle.
Or at least, that’s what she’d thought at first. Danielle Baumgartner was not a failure, and was not going to die a stupid death. Sure, she’d made a mistake, but she was going to rise above her errors.
And that meant killing this girl and whoever else was in this room.
In an instant, Danielle shifted her gun’s sights from the boy to the girl, aiming right for her face. Before she could pull the trigger, though, a swift kick in the stomach knocked the wind out of her and sent her tumbling backwards. Before she hit the ground, before she even registered the pain, she felt was her gun slipping through her fingers.
Danielle let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Then there was a shout.
Those few seconds seemed to last an eternity, as she whipped around and saw the girl standing there. Danielle’s heart plummeted into her stomach as she realized what she’d gotten herself into. Her focus was solely on the boy in the door, and she hadn’t even considered the possibility of other people being in the room. She’d gotten cocky, fucked up, and now was in a situation she couldn’t handle.
Or at least, that’s what she’d thought at first. Danielle Baumgartner was not a failure, and was not going to die a stupid death. Sure, she’d made a mistake, but she was going to rise above her errors.
And that meant killing this girl and whoever else was in this room.
In an instant, Danielle shifted her gun’s sights from the boy to the girl, aiming right for her face. Before she could pull the trigger, though, a swift kick in the stomach knocked the wind out of her and sent her tumbling backwards. Before she hit the ground, before she even registered the pain, she felt was her gun slipping through her fingers.
Danielle let out a bloodcurdling scream.