"There's no one that comes to mind," was the first thing that came to mind, though Zach knew that if he really thought about it, perhaps there would be a face or two that he'd rather not hurt. Of course, in the long run, that wasn't going to matter. People were born, they lived, they died, all in various orders and at various times. He shrugged to punctuate the point, his attention now focused on retying his bandana over the camera on the collar.
It didn't matter to him, but he wasn't a jerk. If it made a difference to either of the other two, he didn't mind.
"There are more cameras than I expected, but these ones seem a little gimmicky," another offhand remark, more to himself than to the others.
((Continued in You're My Anchor))
The Boy Who Wasn't Actually a RocketBoat
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delicateMachine
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: void
Another camera turned himself into a microphone. Good. They had room to breathe, now.
Zoom out to static angles, see the group as a whole. Or was it too early to call them a group at all? They were a languid pilot episode, not a single drop of blood spilled between them, each member thoroughly ambivalent to the existence of the others. What would their name even be? The RocketCrew? The garish boat was almost guaranteed to hold a longer spot in the collective memory than any who stood atop it.
Still, every sentence made minor waves in the wider world. ‘Will there be a successful escape this season?’ was an enduring favorite of betting fools, and while it was doubtful that anyone had their money on Lark, specifically, it was sure to draw some idly curious eyes her way. Someone, somewhere, was surely rooting for them to make it out alive for the sake of their beer money, if nothing else. Thousands more just wanted to see which one of them cracked first.
Lark shifted her weight as she stood and listened to Zach, and that slight movement was reflected across a million monitors and televisions and phone screens, a boring arrangement of pixels that would pointlessly endure from that point on until the world ended.
“Show’s been leaning on gimmicks for a couple seasons now,” Lark said with a shrug. “Only so many different ways people can die before they start repeating themselves, I guess.”
Zoom out to static angles, see the group as a whole. Or was it too early to call them a group at all? They were a languid pilot episode, not a single drop of blood spilled between them, each member thoroughly ambivalent to the existence of the others. What would their name even be? The RocketCrew? The garish boat was almost guaranteed to hold a longer spot in the collective memory than any who stood atop it.
Still, every sentence made minor waves in the wider world. ‘Will there be a successful escape this season?’ was an enduring favorite of betting fools, and while it was doubtful that anyone had their money on Lark, specifically, it was sure to draw some idly curious eyes her way. Someone, somewhere, was surely rooting for them to make it out alive for the sake of their beer money, if nothing else. Thousands more just wanted to see which one of them cracked first.
Lark shifted her weight as she stood and listened to Zach, and that slight movement was reflected across a million monitors and televisions and phone screens, a boring arrangement of pixels that would pointlessly endure from that point on until the world ended.
“Show’s been leaning on gimmicks for a couple seasons now,” Lark said with a shrug. “Only so many different ways people can die before they start repeating themselves, I guess.”
“You mean like those teams? Those are something new, right?”
Seeing Zach move to cover his collar with his bandana, like Lark was already doing, Sarah decided to do the same; she untied her blue bandana from around her wrist and retied it around her neck instead. She’d rather just ignore the issue entirely, but it was a show of solidarity between the three of them if nothing else.
It was a little uncomfortable at first and Sarah continued to pull at it and fuss with it until it felt like it was covering her collar entirely. As she did, she gave Lark’s question some thought.
Was there anyone she couldn’t leave behind? The first people that came to mind were her old friends, like Julia, Katie and the rest, strangely enough; she hadn’t spoken to them for years now, Katie didn’t even go to Mangrove any more, but those were still the first people that came to mind when the word friends was invoked.
It was sad and she became annoyed at herself any time it happened.
“There’s no one for me either. I guess that makes this easier.” Maybe if the other members of the astronomy club were here she could bring them into this; they were friends, of a sort. Although, bringing anyone into this fake escape felt irresponsible.
“Um, we should probably leave soon?” What was supposed to be a statement ended up sounding more like a question. Sarah tried again. “The cruise ship is probably our best option.”
Seeing Zach move to cover his collar with his bandana, like Lark was already doing, Sarah decided to do the same; she untied her blue bandana from around her wrist and retied it around her neck instead. She’d rather just ignore the issue entirely, but it was a show of solidarity between the three of them if nothing else.
It was a little uncomfortable at first and Sarah continued to pull at it and fuss with it until it felt like it was covering her collar entirely. As she did, she gave Lark’s question some thought.
Was there anyone she couldn’t leave behind? The first people that came to mind were her old friends, like Julia, Katie and the rest, strangely enough; she hadn’t spoken to them for years now, Katie didn’t even go to Mangrove any more, but those were still the first people that came to mind when the word friends was invoked.
It was sad and she became annoyed at herself any time it happened.
“There’s no one for me either. I guess that makes this easier.” Maybe if the other members of the astronomy club were here she could bring them into this; they were friends, of a sort. Although, bringing anyone into this fake escape felt irresponsible.
“Um, we should probably leave soon?” What was supposed to be a statement ended up sounding more like a question. Sarah tried again. “The cruise ship is probably our best option.”
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delicateMachine
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: void
Three different team bandannas, all worn the same way. Unity in disunity - how theatric of them. Lark bet their mentors were groaning in unison at the lost causes they were saddled with.
“Yeah, teams got added a couple seasons ago. There still haven’t been any actual team wins, though. Maybe the third time’s the charm.” She shrugged. “Not like it matters to us, though.”
At least, it wouldn’t matter until one of them ran into a group of their allies and had to make an actual decision. It was hard to argue the value of their brief bond compared to people who had zero game incentive to hurt them, especially when escape still remained an idealistic horizon.
“The cruise ship, sure. I mean, half our class is probably thinking the same thing, but. Hey. More bodies to desecrate. We’ve given them long enough to kill each other, I think.” She smirked at her own morbidity and wondered how many people would think it was a sign she was going to snap.
Tools. Allies. Corpses. The three were interchangeable, if you squinted and had a loose commitment to definitions, but they’d need them all to succeed, and they weren’t going to find them on a crowd-favorite speedboat.
Lark made her way back down to the dock, gathered up her bag and her sack of steel. If they got separated, well, they’d find each other again or they wouldn’t. That’s all there was to it.
((“Goodbye, RocketBoat.”))
“Yeah, teams got added a couple seasons ago. There still haven’t been any actual team wins, though. Maybe the third time’s the charm.” She shrugged. “Not like it matters to us, though.”
At least, it wouldn’t matter until one of them ran into a group of their allies and had to make an actual decision. It was hard to argue the value of their brief bond compared to people who had zero game incentive to hurt them, especially when escape still remained an idealistic horizon.
“The cruise ship, sure. I mean, half our class is probably thinking the same thing, but. Hey. More bodies to desecrate. We’ve given them long enough to kill each other, I think.” She smirked at her own morbidity and wondered how many people would think it was a sign she was going to snap.
Tools. Allies. Corpses. The three were interchangeable, if you squinted and had a loose commitment to definitions, but they’d need them all to succeed, and they weren’t going to find them on a crowd-favorite speedboat.
Lark made her way back down to the dock, gathered up her bag and her sack of steel. If they got separated, well, they’d find each other again or they wouldn’t. That’s all there was to it.
((“Goodbye, RocketBoat.”))
Right, the cruise ship would probably be the first place any thought to go to; Sarah hadn’t considered that. It was the best place to find what they needed, but that logic applied to everyone else as well.
Lark accepted the suggestion easily enough, even as she pointed out the risks; on the one hand Sarah was glad that the girl was willing to follow along with what she decided, but if it was a bad idea then she kind of wished Lark would say so. Out of the two of them it was Lark who knew more about this game, even if Sarah was feigning having a plan to get out of here.
Picking up her bag and quickly checking to make sure her knife was still inside, Sarah moved to follow Lark off of the speed boat. It was too late the second guess herself now, so she just needed to hope that the cruise ship had what they needed and that no one would get in their way.
Because Sarah sure as hell wasn’t ready for whatever that would lead to.
MM02: SARAH LILLIAN WHITLOCK – CONTINUED IN Adrift in a Little Shop of Horrors
Lark accepted the suggestion easily enough, even as she pointed out the risks; on the one hand Sarah was glad that the girl was willing to follow along with what she decided, but if it was a bad idea then she kind of wished Lark would say so. Out of the two of them it was Lark who knew more about this game, even if Sarah was feigning having a plan to get out of here.
Picking up her bag and quickly checking to make sure her knife was still inside, Sarah moved to follow Lark off of the speed boat. It was too late the second guess herself now, so she just needed to hope that the cruise ship had what they needed and that no one would get in their way.
Because Sarah sure as hell wasn’t ready for whatever that would lead to.
MM02: SARAH LILLIAN WHITLOCK – CONTINUED IN Adrift in a Little Shop of Horrors