SOTF Mini

Morgan hadn’t noticed the stun gun. Not until now. Not until KeKe folded her arms and he saw the tiny little thing sticking out from her clenched fist, and all of a sudden his heart was pounding and he really really wanted a little paper bag to breathe into. And that was just at the sight of a stun gun. If he didn’t pull himself together soon, he was gonna be nothing more than a gibbering wreck the moment anyone even said the word ‘gun’.

And that was fucking insanity! The fact there was potential for people to be running around with guns and swords and nuclear warheads and stinger missiles and shit! Was this all that hanging out with the cool kids had lead to in his life? Being turned into pile of ash in the middle of a church? He’d known all along that he shoulda just accepted his lot in life and been happy with his brother as his best friend, but this put the whole thing so sharply into focus that Morgan felt like he’d suffered from whiplash.

Fuck. It had been about three weeks since he’d had a proper conversation with Collin. And worst thing was, his brother wasn’t even gonna hate him, as he watched the program on his TV in his little darkened bedroom. Collin was the sorta guy who saw the good in everyone. Even his stupid, soon-to-be-dead brother.

This stunk. His life really was just a series of punchlines that he couldn’t stop himself from walking into.

And now, preoccupied with his own thoughts, Morgan had missed all but the last snippets of conversation. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead, and the distinct and unpleasant sensation of it rolling down his spine beneath his shirt. At the very least, neither Dakota nor KeKe looked like they were about to throw bows, but the tension was stifling. Morgan breathed out and cleared his throat.

“So we can all agree this is a real pile of bullshit we’ve landed ourselves in, yeah? And that none of us want any part in it? Cause like, being honest here, cards on the table, I’m not planning on killing nobody. Like… Like, heh, I don’t… wanna die, y’know? And putting a target on my head, killing people this early, that’s the easiest way to do it and… uh…”

Fuck, his train of thought had been shunted off to the siderails, and now he was floundering. He took another deep breath in, clenched his teeth, then breathed out again, trying to send his brain fog out with it.

“Look, we’ve all had beef at school, right? But never so much that it’d make me like… onea them. One of those ‘players’. I’ve never hated anyone so much to wanna kill them, you get me?”

Morgan raised his arm, trying to put his palm over his heart.

“Hand on heart, I swear, I don’t-“

“HULK SMASH!”

Morgan squawked in fright, throwing the foam hands down on the ground as he did so.

“Fucking Christ, alright, taking these things off! You guys get the gist!”

Trying to keep herself from rolling her eyes as Dakota spoke was an incredibly difficult ordeal for her, but it was one that KeKe thought she accomplished well.

Sure, she definitely thought that Dakota kinda looked dead and acted like it too, but somehow, she persevered and allowed none of that to show on her face. She was being calm, she was being better, even if a stupid bish had just decided to go and shrug after she had told a group that she had just been attacked. Seriously. A shrug.

At the very least, that deserved a raise of the eyebrow, and that was what she did. Wasn’t about to say nothing, because that would just be adding more fuel to the fire, but she could think of all of the words she would have screamed, and that would have to do. Even if it made her gut feel like a volcano.

Hold it in. She'd just have to hold it in and tolerate these people. Not like, because no, there was no way in heaven or hell she would ever like people like these, especially Mr. Bargain Bread who shit-talked her, but she would have to pretend that she could actually stand them. That thought terrified KeKe. Would she have to do it? Probably. Did that make her feel any better about being stuck in a church with two people he was not thrilled about while trapped in a death game? Fuck no.

Still, she stayed silent, lips pursed, stun gun kept in hand. No way she was letting it go now.

There was especially no letting it go when Morgan, emotional wreck that he was, began stuttering and sweating. Not that she was gonna go knock him out or anything, but it was good to have a reminder for everyone else that she was the only one with an actual weapon in the building. Just as a statement.

She guessed she got what Morgan was trying to say, trying to unite them because they were all done with this shit, but it certainly was not coming across very well. Especially not with the sound effects of the glove once more and the audible scream from their owner.

Honestly, if she had been feeling less charitable, or if it had been in a less deadly situation, she probably would have laughed at Morgan, thought of it as karma for all the shit he had done before. Instead, she just winced in...well, not quite sympathy, but perhaps second-hand embarrassment.

"Yeah, 'guess I do," KeKe nodded, eyes focused. Had to keep it cool.

"I mean, none of us here are hunky dory, but we don't have to be that to try to find a way to save our asses, you know? Together."

"I don't want anything to do with...that." Man, she sounded like she barely knew how to speak. There wasn't much she could add though, besides agreement. Just like she had done in school all those times. The sudden burst of sound that came from Morgan's hulk fists made her jump as well. Although unlike him it just sent a jolt through her body and kicked her heart rate up a few notches.

It wasn't much, but she felt the idea of joining up and finding a way out was probably the best for her. She worked well in groups. If was she in a group she could blend in and avoid any issues, avoid being specifically targeted and avoid conflict. People were less likely to go after a group unless they had a group of their own. Just like at school there was safety in numbers.

She was unsure what to make of KeKe though. She seemed to be barely holding something beneath the surface. Dakota didn't know exactly what it was but she could read it all across the girl's face and through her eyes. The way she spoke also said more than the words she used.

Dakota's vision went over to Morgan and she tried to silently communicate her feelings about the other girl in the room.

"I'd be up for working together," She said softly. "As long as we're all on the same page."

Grant thought about the explosive in his bag, thought about the idea of what he was doing with Charity here.

Thought about those others in there, thought about the bomb.

Nah.

Grant pulled back and shook his head.

"Not worth it. Too many people. Too unpredictable. I say we split."

He backed up all the way out of the door and jerked a thumb over his head.

"Let's peace. Better opportunities, you know?"

Grant did a little whirl around his head with a finger and stepped out and away.

((Grant considers the events of Earlier That Morning))

Well, hey. Charity wasn't going to get anything out of arguing with that.

"Fine by me, pretty boy." She grinned again, tension leaving, to ease any potential sting from her words. Grant was good-looking and knew it, but some guys got weird about being called pretty.

Grant did his little twirl and sidestep. Charity followed with a bit less flair.

((Charity Gardner continued in Tomb of the Forgotten))

Morgan allowed himself a small, shaky grin, because holy shit, Dakota and KeKe both seemed to be on the same page as him, despite his reputation, despite all the shit he had pulled. He’d even screamed at a pitch he didn’t know humans could even hear and made a complete idiot of himself, and they still seemed willing to partner up with him.

Holy shit.

Maybe he actually had a shot at this after all.

“Y-Yeah, see!” Morgan said, still a little shook up after the Hulk gloves had betrayed him, still a little in disbelief that this was actually working. “We’re bigger than all of this. We don’t need to start shooting people up because of what happened at school or because the General told us to. I’m not gonna, and… I, uh, trust neither of you will.”

‘Trust’ was a big, big word out here. If Morgan had been honest, he’d have told them that he was momentarily suspending his mistrust and his paranoia because it seemed like it was working out for all of them, and that he really didn’t feel like he could trust anyone except, maybe, himself.

Shockingly, he didn’t really feel like KeKe and Dakota would appreciate that sentiment, so he kept shtum.

“Okay, so, uh, if you’re with me, I think we should head out of here,” Morgan spoke up again, shuffling his feet, visibly antsy. “This place is, uh, guh… kinda a bad place to hole up in for too long, y’know? Lotta open space, easy access but nowhere to really escape from once we’re in here. Prob’ly best to look for another place, we might find more friendly faces there.”

Again, tiny little white lie there. The real reason Morgan wanted to get out of this place pronto was because it was beginning to creep the fuck outta him. Sure, the stained glass windows were still pretty, and a little part of him wanted to see what they looked like in the evening as the light changed their colour and shades. But the rest of the church? Cold and old and grey and surrounded by dead bodies under the ground? Yeesh, yeah, that was heebie-jeebie material alright.

Morgan realised he hadn’t been saying anything for a few seconds, and he coughed, cheeks flushed, before clapping his hands together. Even with the sound echoing around the church, it was still only about half the volume of his buddy The Hulk.

“Okay, right, uh, let’s… let’s get moving, yeah?”

Morgan started to move towards the church’s exit.

Then he doubled back, picked up the Hulk gloves again, and finally left.

((Morgan Jones continued in Huge boats. With guns. Gun boats.))