One Room Death Game

[Deblod100]

Gerald heard the Director appear again. Since one of the people still in the room was tied, she had the gall to ask her fellow kidnapped hostages roll him to the right door.

Gerald wasn't going to do that. Business guy wanted action and Gerald was going to help him.

After the Director left the screen, Gerald checked for his token and the pepper spray that Nana left behind. Two items he needed for the worst. There were still some spare chairs lying around. Gerald got himself a folded up chair as a weapon. He wasn't strong, but he was going to keep his wits up and get Autumn and everyone else out of here.

Gerald went up to the businessman to clear up some stuff, before he gave the signal.

"How many people are we going with out there?" Gerald asked him, glancing at the tied up man. Gerald also made sure to speak in English.

"We leave him tied up in here, they are going to get impatient and try to drag him out. They might know what we're planning." Gerald thinks it's possible. The room was being monitored pretty much 24/7.

[NoLife42069]

Despite not being in the room proper, Kevin knew damn well what The Director spoke about. When she first came on the screen he cracked the door open a bit to get all the information. How nice of her.

She gave them time to prepare.

When Kevin finally exited the bathroom, his face was clean, and the blood on him was gone. Well besides his clothes, but that wasn't going to get clean anytime soon. In his hands The toilet tank's lid. "What's up with you people and hiding your shit in the bathroom?" Kevin spoke as he exited.

Kevin walked to the center of the room and set his "Weapon?" down on the ground. Kevin passed a glance at the two people crowding around their sole leverage. "Now I trust you two aren't braindead enough to untie creep? Besides, Eugene what the hell did I say, organize your rejects. Or did you not think that far ahead? We need to know our weapons, Our placement for when they come in, Who can even be useful in the fight, and what the ones who can't will do. Don't tell me I've put more thought into your plan in the last few minutes than you did this whole time."

Kevin sighed as he walked over to the telephone and dialed his phone number. Kevin wanted to have one last talk with The Director. That perpetual frown was back on his face.

[Fiori]

"At this point, I'd be shocked if they didn't" Eugene responded, turning to orange-shirt. He didn't know what to make the guy, the two having never really crossed paths up to this point, but he was keen to help and that was enough for him. "At the very least, we should assume they're onto us, which is why we need every able body on deck to pull this off..."

He was about to say something else, when Captain Knifedick re-joined the party, Eugene raising his brow with a mix of confusion and frustration on his face. God, he almost wished that he let things play out between him and Vasya at this point, taking a deep breath and rubbing his temple as he let it wash over him.

"Look, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but could you..." he began, only for Kevin to scoot off towards the phone before he even had a chance to respond, Eugene simply letting out a dejected sigh.

Much as he loathed to admit it with every fibre of his being, the guy at least had a point with regards to having a plan. In an ideal world where he was able to organise this more covertly he would have wanted to set up a proper ambush, try to lure them in and catch their enemy off guard. That was unlikely to be an option at this point, after having to out his intentions in order to unite everyone together. Besides, oddly enough he didn't exactly have much experience when it came to coming up with battle plans.

But, as an executive he said have one key skill that always came in use: Delegation.

"Right... I count at least six of us who're on board, seven once Lothario here is freed..." he began, before turning to Vasya. "Don't suppose you've much experience when it comes making the most out of an angry mob?"

[Pippi]

The revolution was arming itself. Pitchforks and torches were at a premium, it seemed, such meagre forces of rebellion too rich for their blood. It was chairs, and it was fists, and the odd knife or two, that would be the tools used for this uprising. And these were supposed to do... what, exactly, against an orginisation that could pluck them off the streets of their home city without anyone noticing? That could create this underground bunker they'd all been shoved into without alerting any kind of authority? That had been monitoring their every move from the very first second, including the fight back that they were so brazenly discussing right now?

David vs Goliath was one thing. David vs a goddamn platoon of Sherman tanks was another thing.

Hey, if it worked, by some unfathomable miracle, then all the better. Malachi would make sure he was mingling in the middle of everyone, letting them do all the hard work, the actual skirmishing, while he reaped the rewards in the end. Maybe the purple lady and her cronies would get overconfident, cocky in the knowledge that they had all the cards in their hand, accidentally let a couple slip through their fingers. There was only one way to find out.

If the revolution worked, he would be walking out of here alongside everybody else, clean as the moment he'd been dumped into this hellhole. If it didn't? He'd be the one cutting purse strings and walking home free in the manner their captor had intended.

He busied himself with looking busy, flitting about the crowd, trying to appear useful when he had no intention of doing anything of the sort; a skill well honed after years in the public sector. He waited for the moment, the bugle to sound out, the doors to swing themselves open and for everyone to fling themselves down.

He could feel the electricity crackling in the air alreayd.

[Namira]

She'd sacrifice herself because she worked retail?

Diana looked at the plushie, and felt the token to freedom beneath it, and felt sick to her stomach.

"Yeah. I will," she mumbled, unable to meet Lotte's eyes.

She stepped closer, hugged her around the waist, hiding her face against Lotte's body to mask the welling tears.

Then Diana moved back, turned, and fled headed for the exit door.

Coward, coward, coward.

[Spindarene]

Jimmy listened to the businessman, a grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll fight that bitch," Jimmy snarled, spitting blood on the ground. "What, you think I like her? I mean..." he paused, considering, "she's kinda hot, but nah. I don't like no bitches like that."

Plus, he didn't want to die. No way he was going to admit it to the other man, but there was a feeling of relief spreading through Jimmy at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to die here all trussed up like a pig.

"I've been in fights before, I'm good in a fight. And like, I don't care that she's a chick, I will bust her ass up. Just get me out of here, man."

[Dr Adjective]

Charlotte was all too glad to reciprocate the embrace. Too late to go back now, she'd made her stupid grand gesture to an audience of one, maybe two, and was entrenched in it now. She could tell herself that maybe there was some other way out, or maybe it really was all a hoax, she still hadn't actually seen anyone actually die in front of her or anything right? She could tell herself there was still hope, but in the very pit of her being she was pretty sure that wasn't true. But what right did she have to value her own life above someone who actually did something? Somebody who... well, wasn't nobody?

"Remember Charlotte Torres, okay?"

A few stray tears escaped down her cheek, left just the smallest bit of herself to escape the room in in Diana's hair. Hey. At least her last acts would be ones she could be proud of, after thirty years of waste.

"I mean it," she added, before releasing the smaller woman and canting her head to indicate the goofy plush. "He means a lot to me."

Charlotte turned away, unwilling to watch Diana head for the door. Seeing her leave would really make it real. So instead she turned her attention to the glimmer of hope she had left to hold onto. Eugene and his scheme. His Eug-scheme. She would've laughed in happier circumstances. She wanted to speak up, offer what she might be good at, clarify her lack of experience in fights, anything that might help the organisation... but words came up empty. So she dried her eyes and hovered, trying to look ready, whatever the fuck ready looked like.

[Namira]

Charlotte Torres.

Diana engraved the name on her heart, and stepped through the door.

[ItzToxie]

He paid Kevin no mind. He could talk all the shit he wanted like he thought of this as if seconds ago he wasn't planning to throw it all away to *try* and take Vasya out. He was still wary of the bastard, he knew he was planning something for when the chaos began.

Then again, so was Vasya.

Vasya glanced at Eugene, then back down to Jimmy.

Well, if even this fuckin' guy is down to clown, Vasya supposed this was about as best of a chance he had at getting out. Bit too late to do a repeat performance with Mikhailov's daughter, considering now just about everyone was doomed to die anyways. Beyond the twink, he wasn't sure who else had a medal, so buying himself extra time wasn't possible. People with nothing to lose, not even their lives weren't going to stop for shit. He'd might as well point them away from him and let the carnage commence.


Besides, more meatshields between him and death was better than him vs the world, at least for now.


Vasya took his karambit, and cut Jimmy free from his binds.

"Welcome to party, gandan."

[Fiori]

Eugene furrowed his brow as Jimmy made his case for why they should untie him.

It... Wasn't exactly encouraging.

Granted, did they have much of a choice? The guy was a scumbag, that was clear as day, but at least he was an angry scumbag who was willing to throw hands. They weren't really in much of a position to get picky about this sort of thing.

As such, Eugene didn't object when Vasya untied him, instead whistling for the rest of the room and gesturing for everyone to come close. Since Vasya didn't offer any suggestions, he needed to think of something fast.

"Alright, so here's how we're going to do this..." he began, his tone hushed as he turned to Charlotte. "I need you and Kevin to stand guard on either side of Stage Left. Vasya and I will do the same Stage Right, and the rest of you spread out around the room. Try not to bunch up, if they come with guns we need to make sure they don't have an obvious target to aim for..."

He turned to glance at the door behind, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "These doors are chokepoints, so as soon as one of them opens up we need to dogpile whoever tries to come out, use them to block the others. Try to funnel 'em, deal with these people one at a time, make sure they don't spill out into this room. It's the one advantage we've got, but if we play our cards right... We just might be able to pull this shit off."

It wasn't much of a plan, even Eugene would admit that. But at short notice, it was the best he could think of. Besides, anything more complicated was doomed to fall to pieces the moment things kicked off.

"Any questions?"

[MurderWeasel]

Faintly, barely audible to those closer to the righthand side of the room, there was the sound of an internal door opening—presumably the door at the far end of the hall, the second stage of the airlock. Seconds stretched, however, without the inner door moving.

At the same time, the bathroom door quietly, inconspicuously slid closed. With a soft whirring, the lock engaged, closing it off to the people in the room.

[MurderWeasel]

After a single ring, there was a click, and The Director's voice greeted Kevin. It held the same cheerful tone as ever; if she was under any stress, no trace of it was audible.

"What can I do for you?" she said. "We might have to make it quick. I think we both may be busy in a moment."

[ItzToxie]

"I have suggestion."

Vasya turned to Eugene. "There is a big chance, big fuckin' chance that this won't work the first time. What's likely is they will try to take someone with them and leave. Could be this shit right here, or it could be anyone they get their hands on. They will try to keep them alive though, execute them in public viewing for us to see on the tv. Demoralize us. It's what I'd do."

Vasya glanced over at the door him and Eugene were supposed to be on. He was certain he heard something go off back there.

"I say we take one from their playbook. If they all leave, there is nothing stopping them from locking the doors and leaving us to starve. If we take one of them though, there is motivation to come back, to try to win, if only to stop the suka from talking. When we fight, I say we fight to kill, as that's their plan for us, I do not care if you are squeamish or weak. Put your thumbs in their eyes, grab their balls and squeeze, cave their neck in, anything to disable them, to hurt them."

"But we try to take one alive. I can make them talk. I am creative; Kevin knows this. We can find way out from one of them."

Vasya smiled.

[NoLife42069]

Kevin smirked. "Yeah let's keep this quick. Especially since both our plans aren't going the exact way we intended." Kevin shook his head as the dumbasses behind him cut the creep he worked so hard to tie up.

"Had some stuff I wanted to talk with ya about. I had a whole plan for how I'd do it too. But that doesn't really matter anymore. You're planning a way to crush this revolution and I'm a part of it I guess."

Eugene asked for suggestions. Vasya spoke up. Kevin gave him a middle finger, "It's all fucking cliché. Watch fewer Mafia movies and overdose already. I'm sure the shit you would see will give you the first original thought you've ever had."

Returning his attention to the phone. "Back to you Director. First I guess I'm supposed to beg for mercy or some shit. Then I'm supposed to probe you for information... I'm not doing any of that."

Kevin slightly lowered his voice, "Director... Thanks. This has made me feel more alive in a few hours than I have in the last 12 years. I'm certain this wasn't your intent. I don't know why you did this. Why you took a bunch of randos and bastards, shoved them in this concrete box, and made this little Death Game. And frankly? Besides base human curiosity, I don't much care. But there is one part of your plan I want to know."

Kevin looked over the remaining people in the room. "Why me? Some of these others I can tell. Vasya? Fucker is part of the mob. Eugene is some executive, the mob boss's daughter. Everyone else? You probably just saw them out and said fuck it. But what I want to know is why you chose me. Director, you're not stupid, you can't plan all of this out, grab all these people, build all this shit, and be an idiot. I'm sure, No, I'm certain you did some background checks on us. You know exactly the type of people you brought here. So tell me, before everything happens, before the number of corpses you deal with rapidly increases. Why? Explain it to me."

[Dr Adjective]

Charlotte had no questions for Eugene, and waited patiently as Vasya expedited firstly how much a monster he was - as if she didn’t know by now - but secondly and more importantly, how that informed a very good point. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like that she agreed completely, either.

“He’s right,” she nodded, drawing close and lowering her voice.

“Not a question,” she added, “but obviously they’re watching us. Don’t know if they can hear us right now, but can definitely see. Should we only take positions at like, the very last second? Get at least some kind of surprise element?”