Okay, so people were robbing each other now. Not exactly too surprising, considering how many people he knew were dead at this point, but that...it almost seemed odder. He could get taking the weapon and maybe the food, but the entire bag and all the other supplies? That seemed excessive.
But considering who had committed the robbery...
At Dale's comment about who Eric killed, RJ nodded, his smile having fallen.
"Cassini, yeah. Either stabbed or cut her, or something."
Ritzy had been vague about what happened, probably on purpose. Only clear things about it were that it was a surprise kill, and it probably involved a blade. RJ didn't want to try and figure out anything else.
He didn't want to think about Eric either, but his brain couldn't help itself. He knew the guy had been full of himself, but robbing and killing people was just. Okay, it was definitely in the realm of possibility at this point, since again, so many classmates had killed each other, but it felt wrong to think about.
Focus on the here and now, RJ, not what you remember about people. These people are showing they're full of surprises, and not good ones.
He ignored the comment about Eric's weight-like he could talk with his noodle arms-and focused on the rest of the conversation.
"Could be worse. I'd prefer getting robbed by Eric over getting robbed by Junji or something."
And honestly? It was a fact. If he had to guess, Eric would just threaten you then leave once he got what he wanted. Junji would taunt you and probably hurt you anyway just for shits and giggles, if he didn't just kill you outright.
Their mentor decided to make herself known, and RJ could help but involuntarily snort at her comment.
"I, uh...I think we're gonna be able to do more than just beat him up, if we need to."
He held the Carbine up a little higher as spoke, making it clear that he was referring to using it. He still wasn't fully sure if he was comfortable with the idea of shooting anyone alive, but Eric was a killer. Maybe it would be easier if it's a killer.
He hoped it would be easier when it's a killer.
Gene Hackman had it easier in The Poseidon Adventure
Open, a little before noon Day 2
Oh no.
Eric had forgotten about the mentors. They could communicate at any time, and presumably could give information beyond general advice, like the fact Eric was waiting around right here. Or...could they? He hadn't made out what that voice had said exactly, but based on their reactions (or lack thereof) she hadn't told them he was right here. Was it possible? It would be horribly bullshit and unfair, but the entire process of this was unreasonable, so why would they care about something like fair play?
Eric held his breath, rising to a crouch from his kneeling position, adjusting the scabbard as he took the Zip 22 into his hand. He had to change his plans. At this point, it was not unreasonable to assume they would know he was here soon. He had to admit, he was a little annoyed they were making fun of him; it was incredibly childish to poke fun at his weight just because they didn't like what he was doing. If they wanted to waste time making nice instead of surviving, that was on them.
He couldn't be reckless here, breathing heavily. But...right now, with how they were talking, they seemed distracted. He could see gun boy raising his weapon; the implication was clear. Eric swallowed hard. From how he'd been talking and acting, Eric didn't think he was a crack shot, or that he'd be able to pull the trigger on command. He shot out a window, but that didn't exactly mean much for shooting a real person, an enemy. Eric could do it, but could gun boy? Was he willing to take that risk?
The stairs down were only a few feet to his right. If he took a shot or two and sprinted off, the door was close by. As long as he could get through there, he could easily give them the slip. It was a bit of a risk, but he had a good head start and they wouldn't be expecting it. Eric took a deep breath. He slowly leaned forward towards the gap between the stairs, steading his hand on one of the steps. He pointed the gun carefully, roughly at the center of mass in the group. He didn't have any particular reason to hit any of them over anyone else, so maximizing his odds of hitting someone was the best bet.
Eric squinted, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.
BANG
BANG
Click
He exhaled. He didn't have time to wait to see who or what he hit. Eric pushed off, rising from a crouch into a full sprint with only a slight stumble. His footsteps thudded heavily down the stairs as he gasped, taking two steps at a time. He hit the deck with another thump and kept going. He didn't hear anything, or see anything, happening up there. Eric just ran.
He swung the door open with a grunt and slammed it behind him, then kept running.
((Eric Cunningham continued elsewhere))
Eric had forgotten about the mentors. They could communicate at any time, and presumably could give information beyond general advice, like the fact Eric was waiting around right here. Or...could they? He hadn't made out what that voice had said exactly, but based on their reactions (or lack thereof) she hadn't told them he was right here. Was it possible? It would be horribly bullshit and unfair, but the entire process of this was unreasonable, so why would they care about something like fair play?
Eric held his breath, rising to a crouch from his kneeling position, adjusting the scabbard as he took the Zip 22 into his hand. He had to change his plans. At this point, it was not unreasonable to assume they would know he was here soon. He had to admit, he was a little annoyed they were making fun of him; it was incredibly childish to poke fun at his weight just because they didn't like what he was doing. If they wanted to waste time making nice instead of surviving, that was on them.
He couldn't be reckless here, breathing heavily. But...right now, with how they were talking, they seemed distracted. He could see gun boy raising his weapon; the implication was clear. Eric swallowed hard. From how he'd been talking and acting, Eric didn't think he was a crack shot, or that he'd be able to pull the trigger on command. He shot out a window, but that didn't exactly mean much for shooting a real person, an enemy. Eric could do it, but could gun boy? Was he willing to take that risk?
The stairs down were only a few feet to his right. If he took a shot or two and sprinted off, the door was close by. As long as he could get through there, he could easily give them the slip. It was a bit of a risk, but he had a good head start and they wouldn't be expecting it. Eric took a deep breath. He slowly leaned forward towards the gap between the stairs, steading his hand on one of the steps. He pointed the gun carefully, roughly at the center of mass in the group. He didn't have any particular reason to hit any of them over anyone else, so maximizing his odds of hitting someone was the best bet.
Eric squinted, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.
BANG
BANG
Click
He exhaled. He didn't have time to wait to see who or what he hit. Eric pushed off, rising from a crouch into a full sprint with only a slight stumble. His footsteps thudded heavily down the stairs as he gasped, taking two steps at a time. He hit the deck with another thump and kept going. He didn't hear anything, or see anything, happening up there. Eric just ran.
He swung the door open with a grunt and slammed it behind him, then kept running.
((Eric Cunningham continued elsewhere))
-
Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
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- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Oh yeah, Gus was still very pissed at Eric. It simply wasn't fair that he just grabbed his belongings and left him naked. Very uncool.
Claudia, Gus' cute mentor spoke again, it's been a while. She said, if they saw him again, they should beat him up. Yeah, that sounded about right. Gus wouldn't object that at all. Neither would he if they would meet Matias. Gus was glad he got his teammates on his side for that. See:
You know they say all men are created equal, but you look at Gus and you look at Eric and you see that statement is not true. See, normally if you go 1 on 1 with another contestant, you got a 50/50 chance of winning. But Gus is a genetic freak and he's not normal. So you got a 25% chance at best at beat him. And then you add Dale Hawthorn and RJ Blackburn to the mix and Eric's chances of winning drastic go down. See, the 3-way at SOTF you got a 33 and third chance of winning. But Gus, Gus got a 66 and two-third chance of winning cause Matias knows he can't beat him and he's not even gonna try. So Eric you take your 33 and a third chance minus Gus' 25% chance minus and he got a 8 and a third chance of winning at SOTF. But then you take Gus' 75% chance of winning if they were to go 1 on 1 and then add 66 and two-thirds%. Gus got a 141 and two-thirds percent chance at winning at SOTF! Eric Cunningham? The numbers don't lie and they spell disaster for you at SOTF.
Then, the bullet dug through Gus' brain.
((Gustavo Thicke continued in At Home In The Forest))
Claudia, Gus' cute mentor spoke again, it's been a while. She said, if they saw him again, they should beat him up. Yeah, that sounded about right. Gus wouldn't object that at all. Neither would he if they would meet Matias. Gus was glad he got his teammates on his side for that. See:
You know they say all men are created equal, but you look at Gus and you look at Eric and you see that statement is not true. See, normally if you go 1 on 1 with another contestant, you got a 50/50 chance of winning. But Gus is a genetic freak and he's not normal. So you got a 25% chance at best at beat him. And then you add Dale Hawthorn and RJ Blackburn to the mix and Eric's chances of winning drastic go down. See, the 3-way at SOTF you got a 33 and third chance of winning. But Gus, Gus got a 66 and two-third chance of winning cause Matias knows he can't beat him and he's not even gonna try. So Eric you take your 33 and a third chance minus Gus' 25% chance minus and he got a 8 and a third chance of winning at SOTF. But then you take Gus' 75% chance of winning if they were to go 1 on 1 and then add 66 and two-thirds%. Gus got a 141 and two-thirds percent chance at winning at SOTF! Eric Cunningham? The numbers don't lie and they spell disaster for you at SOTF.
Then, the bullet dug through Gus' brain.
((Gustavo Thicke continued in At Home In The Forest))
I'm so glad to be back !
Claudia's voice burst into the scene, congratulating the boys for finding one another and requesting they beat the shit out of Eric should they find him. Dale smirked and chuckled to himself when his mentor spoke. This was definitely a better situation than most people in SOTF could hope to find themselves in. Of course, Dale knew that he was judging that on such a steep curve it was practically a straight line. Gus was completely deprived and already had his ass kicked by some douchebag. RJ had the best weapon, so he was the only hope they had for scaring pricks away. Dale was in the firmly planted in the middle ground of "helpful" and "useless."
But either way, they had numbers, and they had team allegiance. Dale wasn't sure how many Krakens were left, but riding the wave of team victory seemed way more preferable than anything else right now.
Dale was about to second RJ's when the moment was interrupted by several gunshots. Before Dale could see where they originated, he saw Gus's head suddenly expel blood, skull, and brain matter out the back.
Dale immediately threw himself off the chair, loudly screaming as he hit the deck. The chair fell with his force, turning sideways and offering miniscule covering. He laid perfectly still on the ground, having curled his body a bit inwards in case the shooter was still nearby. He kept his gaze towards Gus's body. He couldn't see Gus's head from this angle, but he could see blood was starting to pool around his dead body and moving towards the edge of the deck. Dale froze and kept his eyes towards the growing puddle of blood. He felt his heartrate increase and tears starting to form in his eyes.
This is how I die. This is how I die. This is how I die.
But either way, they had numbers, and they had team allegiance. Dale wasn't sure how many Krakens were left, but riding the wave of team victory seemed way more preferable than anything else right now.
Dale was about to second RJ's when the moment was interrupted by several gunshots. Before Dale could see where they originated, he saw Gus's head suddenly expel blood, skull, and brain matter out the back.
Dale immediately threw himself off the chair, loudly screaming as he hit the deck. The chair fell with his force, turning sideways and offering miniscule covering. He laid perfectly still on the ground, having curled his body a bit inwards in case the shooter was still nearby. He kept his gaze towards Gus's body. He couldn't see Gus's head from this angle, but he could see blood was starting to pool around his dead body and moving towards the edge of the deck. Dale froze and kept his eyes towards the growing puddle of blood. He felt his heartrate increase and tears starting to form in his eyes.
This is how I die. This is how I die. This is how I die.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
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AnimeNerd
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- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Everything was going great. RJ would say wonderful, but a word like that had no place in the environment of SOTF. Not even great, actually. The words to describe the situation were 'actually not awful and kinda sorta good.' He had team mates with him, they both were in their right minds, and Claudia was trying to be helpful. Maybe this won't be completely awful, he thought.
Then gunshots sounded and Gus' brain exploded.
In that moment, RJ was frozen. His brain screamed at him to run, hide, move, do fucking something-but his body wouldn't listen. The most he could do was widen his eyes at the sight of Gus' body falling, pupils dilated, his body completely tense.
Some blood had splattered onto him. His face and his shirt, maybe his shorts. He didn't want to check if brain matter was mixed in with it.
Dale screamed and tried to get to cover, sending the chair tumbling down with him. He was terrified out of his mind, but at least he was alive.
There were footsteps coming from a staircase. He finally gained enough control over his body to see someone in blue and white run through a door, then slam it shut. Blonde hair. Thicker set.
RJ blinked.
In the span of, what, five minutes? Six? He wasn't sure, but in what was probably less than ten minutes, RJ had gained two allies, only for one of them to immediately get shot in the head, their robber possibly having decided to finish the job, before said ally killer ran away.
And he hadn't done anything. Didn't immediately turn and shoot them. Didn't dive for cover then try to shoot. Didn't even try to move from his spot. He just stood there, gun in his hands, doing nothing.
WHAT THE FUCK WAS WRONG WITH HIM?! He'd screamed at so many horror movie victims for doing this exact same thing! How could he just stand there like he was patiently waiting for someone to take his head off or something!? GUS JUST FUCKING DIED GOD DAMN IT!
His head swiveled to look in every direction. No other immediate signs of other people. Just RJ and a scared shitless Dale.
It felt like his feet had hundred pound weights on them, but he forced his legs to walk toward his ally. He needed help, so RJ would help.
"I think...I think he's gone." He said, his voice sounding almost as hollow as he felt. "Do you...need any help? Getting up?"
Then gunshots sounded and Gus' brain exploded.
In that moment, RJ was frozen. His brain screamed at him to run, hide, move, do fucking something-but his body wouldn't listen. The most he could do was widen his eyes at the sight of Gus' body falling, pupils dilated, his body completely tense.
Some blood had splattered onto him. His face and his shirt, maybe his shorts. He didn't want to check if brain matter was mixed in with it.
Dale screamed and tried to get to cover, sending the chair tumbling down with him. He was terrified out of his mind, but at least he was alive.
There were footsteps coming from a staircase. He finally gained enough control over his body to see someone in blue and white run through a door, then slam it shut. Blonde hair. Thicker set.
RJ blinked.
In the span of, what, five minutes? Six? He wasn't sure, but in what was probably less than ten minutes, RJ had gained two allies, only for one of them to immediately get shot in the head, their robber possibly having decided to finish the job, before said ally killer ran away.
And he hadn't done anything. Didn't immediately turn and shoot them. Didn't dive for cover then try to shoot. Didn't even try to move from his spot. He just stood there, gun in his hands, doing nothing.
WHAT THE FUCK WAS WRONG WITH HIM?! He'd screamed at so many horror movie victims for doing this exact same thing! How could he just stand there like he was patiently waiting for someone to take his head off or something!? GUS JUST FUCKING DIED GOD DAMN IT!
His head swiveled to look in every direction. No other immediate signs of other people. Just RJ and a scared shitless Dale.
It felt like his feet had hundred pound weights on them, but he forced his legs to walk toward his ally. He needed help, so RJ would help.
"I think...I think he's gone." He said, his voice sounding almost as hollow as he felt. "Do you...need any help? Getting up?"
"Well goddamn."
Dale remained frozen on the ground, starring at Gus's lifeless body. Thoughts swirled around in Dale's head like the last several hurricanes to hit Miami.
Was the killer coming?
Was RJ still alive?
Was this truly where he'd die?
Was this all he'd be remembered for?
Was this all that his life was building towards?
Would anyone besides his family remember him when he died?
Was anyone besides his family rooting for him to survive?
Was he already being recast for Invitacion al amor?
Was he already being recast for Little Shop of Horrors?
Was the public laughing at him? Was the public hoping he would die here?
Was the shooter more popular with the viewers than him?
Was the shooter coming over?
Was the shooter close?
Was that the sound of the shooter's footprints?
I think...I think he's gone. Do you...need any help? Getting up?
Dale exhaled a mixture of oxygen, exasperation, and terror. He could feel tears forming in his eyes and starting to dampen the deck he was laying on.
"Is he gone? Is he gone? Is he gone?" Dale blurted out, his voice shaky and up in pitch.
Dale could feel his jaw shaking. His breathing was haphazard and he was sputtering his words out as quickly as he could.
"Are we safe? Are we gonna die? Am I having a heart attack? Am I gonna die?"
Dale curled inwards, clutching his chest. He was having trouble breathing, and his heart was aching. Could he die from a heart attack when he's only 18 and physically healthy? It was starting to feel like he could.
Was the killer coming?
Was RJ still alive?
Was this truly where he'd die?
Was this all he'd be remembered for?
Was this all that his life was building towards?
Would anyone besides his family remember him when he died?
Was anyone besides his family rooting for him to survive?
Was he already being recast for Invitacion al amor?
Was he already being recast for Little Shop of Horrors?
Was the public laughing at him? Was the public hoping he would die here?
Was the shooter more popular with the viewers than him?
Was the shooter coming over?
Was the shooter close?
Was that the sound of the shooter's footprints?
I think...I think he's gone. Do you...need any help? Getting up?
Dale exhaled a mixture of oxygen, exasperation, and terror. He could feel tears forming in his eyes and starting to dampen the deck he was laying on.
"Is he gone? Is he gone? Is he gone?" Dale blurted out, his voice shaky and up in pitch.
Dale could feel his jaw shaking. His breathing was haphazard and he was sputtering his words out as quickly as he could.
"Are we safe? Are we gonna die? Am I having a heart attack? Am I gonna die?"
Dale curled inwards, clutching his chest. He was having trouble breathing, and his heart was aching. Could he die from a heart attack when he's only 18 and physically healthy? It was starting to feel like he could.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
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AnimeNerd
- Posts: 596
- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
RJ thought he heard Claudia make a comment, but it didn't sound like anything useful. He wasn't sure what could be said that would be useful, other than how to help someone through a panic attack, but he severely doubted that was anything near Claudia's realm of expertise.
And yes, RJ was pretty sure Dale was having a panic attack. Not that he could blame him, considering Gus had just got shot in the face, and had the killer done more he probably could've gotten RJ as well, considering how he'd been standing like a fucking statue as his team mates went down. The only reason he could think of for why he hadn't started screaming like a banshee was because the stress went to his body. He was as tense as a spring, ready to fly out and move if anything even crazier happened.
He really hoped nothing crazier happened immediately. He was pretty sure it end up killing someone-maybe even himself, if his heart just decided to pop out of his chest or something.
Dale asked questions and he looked like his own heart was going to explode. RJ tried to push the pity down to get the answers out.
"Yeah. He's...he's definitely gone." His voice still sounded a little hollow. Was it shock? It was probably shock. He'd probably sob himself to sleep, if he managed to get any sleep.
"I don't think it's a heart attack. Sometimes they can be caused by a great shock, but usually that happens to older, out-of-shape people. It's probably a panic attack, what you're dealing with."
RJ wasn't fully sure how to deal with panic attacks. Mom had taught him first aid and stuff meant to heal physically, nothing that helped with mental health. Mom and Dad had never been very goo with that in the first place. That's why he always went to Tandy or Grandpa with his emotional problems. Maybe something from those talks could help the situation a bit?
"Try...try breathing deeply. And slowly, so you don't hyperventilate. Breathe in for five seconds, then breathe out for five seconds. It...it should help."
And yes, RJ was pretty sure Dale was having a panic attack. Not that he could blame him, considering Gus had just got shot in the face, and had the killer done more he probably could've gotten RJ as well, considering how he'd been standing like a fucking statue as his team mates went down. The only reason he could think of for why he hadn't started screaming like a banshee was because the stress went to his body. He was as tense as a spring, ready to fly out and move if anything even crazier happened.
He really hoped nothing crazier happened immediately. He was pretty sure it end up killing someone-maybe even himself, if his heart just decided to pop out of his chest or something.
Dale asked questions and he looked like his own heart was going to explode. RJ tried to push the pity down to get the answers out.
"Yeah. He's...he's definitely gone." His voice still sounded a little hollow. Was it shock? It was probably shock. He'd probably sob himself to sleep, if he managed to get any sleep.
"I don't think it's a heart attack. Sometimes they can be caused by a great shock, but usually that happens to older, out-of-shape people. It's probably a panic attack, what you're dealing with."
RJ wasn't fully sure how to deal with panic attacks. Mom had taught him first aid and stuff meant to heal physically, nothing that helped with mental health. Mom and Dad had never been very goo with that in the first place. That's why he always went to Tandy or Grandpa with his emotional problems. Maybe something from those talks could help the situation a bit?
"Try...try breathing deeply. And slowly, so you don't hyperventilate. Breathe in for five seconds, then breathe out for five seconds. It...it should help."
Dale continued to cry and hyperventilate. He could hear RJ talking to him and trying to explain what was happening, but Dale could only register every other word. He could understand he was having a panic attack, but that was about it. Dale had never had a panic attack before. He had issues dealing with stress before, but that usually meant he'd be grumpy and sour for the rest of the day as long as he wasn't expected to act. But those he could control. His body was working against him for once, telling him he was going to have a complete physical breakdown whether he wanted to or not.
RJ began to talk about some breathing technique. Dale snapped a bit back into focus as he heard that.
Dale took a large breath in. Tears were still falling down his face, and holding his breath was making his throat hurt. He slowly exhaled it.
He continued to inhale and exhale, crying all the while. That was all he could do right now.
RJ began to talk about some breathing technique. Dale snapped a bit back into focus as he heard that.
Dale took a large breath in. Tears were still falling down his face, and holding his breath was making his throat hurt. He slowly exhaled it.
He continued to inhale and exhale, crying all the while. That was all he could do right now.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
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AnimeNerd
- Posts: 596
- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Dale was still panicking. RJ understood that, but he also needed it to stop. The longer there was noise being made on the deck, the more likely someone would check it out and see what’s going on, and at this point he wouldn’t be surprised if that someone was more than willing to shoot them until they turned to Swiss cheese.
Dale was trying to calm down, but RJ needed it to happen faster. Get off the deck, find a nice secluded place, maybe scream a little bit to release some of the tension in him, and figure out what to do from the-
Sound.
Sound that wasn’t coming from Dale.
Someone that might’ve wanted to kill them.
The spring was sprung.
RJ raised the riffle in tandem with turning towards the source of the noise. His finger was above the trigger, waiting for the moment his aim was on something important.
His aim landed on a figure.
RJ realized he recognized that figure the millisecond after he pulled the trigger.
Dale was trying to calm down, but RJ needed it to happen faster. Get off the deck, find a nice secluded place, maybe scream a little bit to release some of the tension in him, and figure out what to do from the-
Sound.
Sound that wasn’t coming from Dale.
Someone that might’ve wanted to kill them.
The spring was sprung.
RJ raised the riffle in tandem with turning towards the source of the noise. His finger was above the trigger, waiting for the moment his aim was on something important.
His aim landed on a figure.
RJ realized he recognized that figure the millisecond after he pulled the trigger.
An utterance of surprise, of hope and maybe a kindling that things were looking up for them. He'd found a friend, someone he'd been looking for since the first day here, and helping someone else to boot. RJ had not lost himself to the show.
Unfortunate, that things were never that simple.
Leo had let the moment take over, that second of seeing RJ across from them and waved his hand up in the air with a smile. A smile that quickly disappeared when the gun came into view, and replaced fully with a shocked expression once the flash went off. Leo tried to turn and run, but was stopped by the sudden rupture of warmth spreading across his chest.
His legs faltering, Leo started falling forwards towards the ground due to his momentum after his turn, he had tried to catch himself with his arm, but there were no strenght in it and he landed right on top of his broken one.
The signals went off in his head. He couldn't keep it within, and screamed as loud as he could.
Frantically, he tried to push himself up, but his arm crushed underneath wouldn't budge and every time he tried to move his shoulder he’d feel the muscle contractions and the signal inside his head would swirl red, and panic started setting in.
He yelled, and he cursed and he screamed.
Unfortunate, that things were never that simple.
Leo had let the moment take over, that second of seeing RJ across from them and waved his hand up in the air with a smile. A smile that quickly disappeared when the gun came into view, and replaced fully with a shocked expression once the flash went off. Leo tried to turn and run, but was stopped by the sudden rupture of warmth spreading across his chest.
His legs faltering, Leo started falling forwards towards the ground due to his momentum after his turn, he had tried to catch himself with his arm, but there were no strenght in it and he landed right on top of his broken one.
The signals went off in his head. He couldn't keep it within, and screamed as loud as he could.
Frantically, he tried to push himself up, but his arm crushed underneath wouldn't budge and every time he tried to move his shoulder he’d feel the muscle contractions and the signal inside his head would swirl red, and panic started setting in.
He yelled, and he cursed and he screamed.
Dale repeated the breathing method RJ told him. He wasn't sure if it was working, but he could start to feel himself calming down a bit. Maybe it was actually the rhythm and the repetition that was helping him get back to sorta-normal. He was still crying, of course. A man just died in front of him, so even if he didn't feel like his heart was going to explode, he was allowed to still be grief stricken over that.
Dale felt RJ move a bit away from him. Before Dale could say anything, there was another loud bang, but this one was much closer to Dale.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!?" Dale screamed, this time pushing away from RJ and against the deck's railing.
Dale straightened his back and looked in the direction RJ fired. Some other boy was now falling to the ground. RJ just shot him. What the hell was that about?
Dale began to crawl backwards, bumping into the overturned deck chair and his bag. One of his hands accidentally pushed down on the bandanna chain around his neck, briefly strangling Dale and causing him to fall onto his back.
He lifted himself back up to look towards RJ and the boy RJ just shot. His throat hurt and the hyperventilation was starting to come back. Suddenly, he couldn't remember the breathing exercise RJ taught him, and all he could focus on was the growing pile of bodies on the deck.
Dale felt RJ move a bit away from him. Before Dale could say anything, there was another loud bang, but this one was much closer to Dale.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!?" Dale screamed, this time pushing away from RJ and against the deck's railing.
Dale straightened his back and looked in the direction RJ fired. Some other boy was now falling to the ground. RJ just shot him. What the hell was that about?
Dale began to crawl backwards, bumping into the overturned deck chair and his bag. One of his hands accidentally pushed down on the bandanna chain around his neck, briefly strangling Dale and causing him to fall onto his back.
He lifted himself back up to look towards RJ and the boy RJ just shot. His throat hurt and the hyperventilation was starting to come back. Suddenly, he couldn't remember the breathing exercise RJ taught him, and all he could focus on was the growing pile of bodies on the deck.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
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AnimeNerd
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- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Dale was screaming and moving around again, but he may as well have been quiet as a mouse for all that RJ reacted to it. He was stock still-like the real RJ had been replaced with a statue, gun pointed forward toward the scene in front of him, his face still blank and free of any emotion, other than shock, considering how wide his eyes were.
He had shot someone.
Someone he knew.
Someone he was friends with.
Someone he was very good friends with.
What the fuck had he done.
The stone statue crumbled as the boy underneath showed himself again, a grimace overtaking his face as he started running to the boy he had shot. He needed to figure out how to deal with gunshot wounds-he had never done that before, but he had also never fucking shot his friends before, so today was full of new experiences.
The guilt was already eating at him, tears forming at the edges of his eyes, his vision blurring, and when he spoke, it was more akin to a choked sob than a normal shout.
"LEO!"
He had shot someone.
Someone he knew.
Someone he was friends with.
Someone he was very good friends with.
What the fuck had he done.
The stone statue crumbled as the boy underneath showed himself again, a grimace overtaking his face as he started running to the boy he had shot. He needed to figure out how to deal with gunshot wounds-he had never done that before, but he had also never fucking shot his friends before, so today was full of new experiences.
The guilt was already eating at him, tears forming at the edges of his eyes, his vision blurring, and when he spoke, it was more akin to a choked sob than a normal shout.
"LEO!"
((Mary Cheung continued from Miss Negativity))
Her ears rang.
Mary had lagged behind a bit. She’d knelt down to adjust her belongings, only for Leo to disappear once she stood back up. She’d huffed. Maybe he wanted to be alone after all. Maybe he was waiting for her to catch up. Maybe… well, a lot of things.
But she’d try to find him. Keep focused. Keep your hand on the oar.
She still wasn’t sure about the cruise ship? Like, it was big, but she didn’t know if Seo-yun was still using it as prowling grounds or what. Plus, it was, well, big, and big attracted people. In some ways, it was risky.
And then she heard gunshots.
Great.
Breath in. Steady yourself.
And what sucked about that, aside from the obvious, was that gunshots were much louder than movies made it look. When she heard them, her body recoiled into itself, like a can under a hydraulic press. Her eardrums felt like they momentarily exploded from the pressure.
Mary stopped her search for a moment, standing, looking like a frozen rabbit as she heard shouting and screaming. Then, a name made her move.
“Leo?” she echoed.
She wasted no time. She burst forward, her oar briefly slamming against the deck as she ran. Then, she came across a group of people. The other two she didn’t register, but the one on the ground--
Mary froze again. Her muscles felt taut. Then, with heavy arms, she lifted the oar closer to herself.
Her ears rang.
Mary had lagged behind a bit. She’d knelt down to adjust her belongings, only for Leo to disappear once she stood back up. She’d huffed. Maybe he wanted to be alone after all. Maybe he was waiting for her to catch up. Maybe… well, a lot of things.
But she’d try to find him. Keep focused. Keep your hand on the oar.
She still wasn’t sure about the cruise ship? Like, it was big, but she didn’t know if Seo-yun was still using it as prowling grounds or what. Plus, it was, well, big, and big attracted people. In some ways, it was risky.
And then she heard gunshots.
Great.
Breath in. Steady yourself.
And what sucked about that, aside from the obvious, was that gunshots were much louder than movies made it look. When she heard them, her body recoiled into itself, like a can under a hydraulic press. Her eardrums felt like they momentarily exploded from the pressure.
Mary stopped her search for a moment, standing, looking like a frozen rabbit as she heard shouting and screaming. Then, a name made her move.
“Leo?” she echoed.
She wasted no time. She burst forward, her oar briefly slamming against the deck as she ran. Then, she came across a group of people. The other two she didn’t register, but the one on the ground--
Mary froze again. Her muscles felt taut. Then, with heavy arms, she lifted the oar closer to herself.