[[Ryan Montoya continued from Philistine]]
Well, that took long enough.
Three hours. By Ryan's reckoning, it took about three hours for her and sir-still-can't-really-believe-this-is-his-name Jethro to get their asses out of the officer's quarters and into the mess hall. An impossibly long time, it would seem- considering the proximity of the two buildings- but hell, distance was deceiving. The map didn't take into account the fact that the officer's quarters themselves had been a fucking maze, not to mention that the first staircase they came across was locked somehow, not to mention the fact that Ryan's paranoia kept them stopping to look around every three seconds or so. Slow didn't even begin to cover it, but eventually they somehow stumbled upon the kitchen entrance and wound up alone in the army's kitchen.
Time only went slower after that.
There was nothing to do. Not only that, there was nothing to say. Ryan didn't know Jethro, she didn't know anything about Jethro, and fuck if she wanted to be making small talk with a boy who could 1) easily kill her, 2) abandon her and leave her alone and defenseless, or 3) get on her last fucking nerve and make her regret having him as an ally to begin with. Besides, what was the point of getting to know someone on the Program? Either she'd have to kill him over the next few days, or she'd have to let him die. No other choices. No good reason to bond or whatever bullshit.
So, the little conversation they made was perfunctory. Made only for the purpose of keeping things from being too awkward, and also because the silence was making Ryan even jumpier than usual. Every sound was magnified. The girl was jumping out of her damn skin at the slightest noise.
It wasn't fun. And it was a few hours again that passed between them before another, louder sound made Ryan jump a literal two feet in the air.
BZZZZZZZZZZZT.
WH-WHAT THE FUCK?!
Oh...announcements. Right.
Ryan listened with her usual impatience and learned something interesting- someone was dead. Well, maybe it made her kind of a bitch, referring to that as something interesting, but whatever. It meant, in a way, the game had begun. The Program was starting. The fact that only one person was dead was kind of interesting in itself, though- Aren't there usually more kids going bugfuck by now? Like, shit's usually going hardcore by the second, third hour. Usually there's a good three or four kids dead by first announcement. Bunch of pussies in our class? Not surprising. Fucking hell. Least it's not anyone important gone.
She shook her head to herself, looking up at Jethro, wondering how he'd take the news. She surprised herself by opening her mouth.
"You know him?" Him meaning Matt. Matt Gourley. Ryan tried to put a face behind the name- he wasn't someone she was friends with. Wasn't he...he was kind of an asshole? Yeah, he definitely was. One of those patriotic, good-boy types who's actually a baby alcoholic behind his parent's back. Super popular, super spoiled, super racist. Totally not someone Ryan would care was dead.
Wait, did she just ask the black guy if he knew the racist white boy? Yeah, he probably does. Probably just as happy as I am that he's dead.
Vioectrolysis
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Hollyquin*
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Vioectrolysis
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Ryan wasn't exaggerating: their trip from their little meeting to the kitchen, two buildings that were next door to each other on the map, had taken three damn hours. After the first thirty minutes of wondering around in the same building, he was starting to get real tired of seeing the same doors over and over again.
They made it eventually though, and six hours after their team up he was long back to his usual, calm self. There hadn't been that much conversation during their stint, which bothered Jethro: sitting alone with a girl he had almost shot was awkward, but the fact that she was saying next to nothing just made it worse. Did he scare her? She was really jumpy on their way over, after all.
Jethro sat atop a preparation table as he bounced a ball off the wall in his head, his concerns overpowered by a sense of boredom that was starting to become stronger than the fear. With his loaded gun at his side, a full view of the kitchen's front entrance and three hours of nothingness, it was starting to look like this was gonna be the rest of their time in the Program.
The announcement was a welcome change of pace, even if Jethro didn't realise it.
“Fucking nutbag of an officer.” Jethro muttered quietly, spitting on the floor in disgust as he listened to what could have passed for an escaped mental patient. Only one person had died, huh? That had to be some kind of record for the Program not doing what it was meant to be. The other guys weren't as nuts as the general, that was for sure.
Then again, someone had to have been the one who had killed Gourlay; the name stuck out in his mind as he imagined the dead body with pit. Someone out there was playing to win. The two of them had to be careful, unless he'd done it in self defence. But if it wasn't they definitely needed to be careful, but who did they have to watch out for? Anyone else could've done it; anyone else could've been a killer.
Stay cool man, stay cool. Start getting paranoid, and everyone's gonna look like they're trying to kill you.” He glanced at Ryan out of the corner of his eye, appearing to him as nervous as ever. At least he knew that she hadn't done it. She couldn't have, unless she had managed to do someone in with that card box of hers when he wasn't looking.
It was comforting.
“You know him?” she asked, the first words spoken between them in for a while.
“Nah,” he replied “not closely. Knew who he was,” knew that he was a racist asshole “but I never had much to do with him.”
He was dead. Racist asshole or not, the guy was dead. Even if he had spent his life harassing people for whatever his reasons were, there weas nothing to be happy about; nothing happy about him being dead. He was only sixteen, tops; he shouldn't have died so soon. He shouldn't have been in the Program. He should've had a life.
He let out a long sigh as he faced the death in words, placing his hand on his gun. He had no reason to touch it, but he found the weapon both comforting and disturbing at the same time. It kept them both safe, and it would end someone else. If someone tried to kill them, he'd have to do the shooting.
“Shit.” he sighed once again.
They made it eventually though, and six hours after their team up he was long back to his usual, calm self. There hadn't been that much conversation during their stint, which bothered Jethro: sitting alone with a girl he had almost shot was awkward, but the fact that she was saying next to nothing just made it worse. Did he scare her? She was really jumpy on their way over, after all.
Jethro sat atop a preparation table as he bounced a ball off the wall in his head, his concerns overpowered by a sense of boredom that was starting to become stronger than the fear. With his loaded gun at his side, a full view of the kitchen's front entrance and three hours of nothingness, it was starting to look like this was gonna be the rest of their time in the Program.
The announcement was a welcome change of pace, even if Jethro didn't realise it.
“Fucking nutbag of an officer.” Jethro muttered quietly, spitting on the floor in disgust as he listened to what could have passed for an escaped mental patient. Only one person had died, huh? That had to be some kind of record for the Program not doing what it was meant to be. The other guys weren't as nuts as the general, that was for sure.
Then again, someone had to have been the one who had killed Gourlay; the name stuck out in his mind as he imagined the dead body with pit. Someone out there was playing to win. The two of them had to be careful, unless he'd done it in self defence. But if it wasn't they definitely needed to be careful, but who did they have to watch out for? Anyone else could've done it; anyone else could've been a killer.
Stay cool man, stay cool. Start getting paranoid, and everyone's gonna look like they're trying to kill you.” He glanced at Ryan out of the corner of his eye, appearing to him as nervous as ever. At least he knew that she hadn't done it. She couldn't have, unless she had managed to do someone in with that card box of hers when he wasn't looking.
It was comforting.
“You know him?” she asked, the first words spoken between them in for a while.
“Nah,” he replied “not closely. Knew who he was,” knew that he was a racist asshole “but I never had much to do with him.”
He was dead. Racist asshole or not, the guy was dead. Even if he had spent his life harassing people for whatever his reasons were, there weas nothing to be happy about; nothing happy about him being dead. He was only sixteen, tops; he shouldn't have died so soon. He shouldn't have been in the Program. He should've had a life.
He let out a long sigh as he faced the death in words, placing his hand on his gun. He had no reason to touch it, but he found the weapon both comforting and disturbing at the same time. It kept them both safe, and it would end someone else. If someone tried to kill them, he'd have to do the shooting.
“Shit.” he sighed once again.
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Hollyquin*
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Huh. Weird, the boy seemed oddly...torn up seemed a bit extreme, but at least a little upset that Matthew Gourlay was dead. Ryan was not giving a single fuck, not wasting a breath or thought or tear on Sir Racist Prickface Cocksucker™, but Jethro- who had, undoubtedly, had some fucked up shit said to him by this kid at some point or another, was actually upset that he was dead. That was all kinds of bizarre. It's good that he's dead, bro! One step closer to home! For me, anyway, but as long as you think you can make it, it's one step for you too, I guess. Fuckin'...yeah. Shit, if no one else killed him one of us would have to, so why does it matter?
Maybe he's just not into this whole Program thing yet.
I mean, you know, I'd rather not kill anyone either, but lets get serious for a minute. This is the goddamn Program, if we don't kill anyone we're going to die. So he needs to man up and get over this shit. Better a bunch of shitty assholes die than us. Or like, our friends. My friends.
Shit, I hope I find some of them soon. Hope one of them has a gun, I feel so fucking useless right now. This kid could kill me anytime he wanted- except wait, clearly this killing thing is freaking him out. Hell, that's good for me. I'm gonna run with that. Fuck, I kind of have to run with that, given my weapon is a CARDBOARD MOTHERFUCKING BOX.
Ryan looked back over at Jethro for a moment. Then back at the wall. Jethro had touched his gun. Cursed to himself. Ryan had an idea as to why.
He knows. He knows he needs that gun to defend himself but he knows he can't kill anyone. Or doesn't want to, anyway. Fuck. I need that gun, I could do so well with that gun...
She looked over at Jethro and put on what she hoped was a sympathetic face. She was gonna be a goddamn angel right now. Anything to keep herself above suspicion. Anything to get her hands on that gun.
"What're you thinking about?"
Maybe he's just not into this whole Program thing yet.
I mean, you know, I'd rather not kill anyone either, but lets get serious for a minute. This is the goddamn Program, if we don't kill anyone we're going to die. So he needs to man up and get over this shit. Better a bunch of shitty assholes die than us. Or like, our friends. My friends.
Shit, I hope I find some of them soon. Hope one of them has a gun, I feel so fucking useless right now. This kid could kill me anytime he wanted- except wait, clearly this killing thing is freaking him out. Hell, that's good for me. I'm gonna run with that. Fuck, I kind of have to run with that, given my weapon is a CARDBOARD MOTHERFUCKING BOX.
Ryan looked back over at Jethro for a moment. Then back at the wall. Jethro had touched his gun. Cursed to himself. Ryan had an idea as to why.
He knows. He knows he needs that gun to defend himself but he knows he can't kill anyone. Or doesn't want to, anyway. Fuck. I need that gun, I could do so well with that gun...
She looked over at Jethro and put on what she hoped was a sympathetic face. She was gonna be a goddamn angel right now. Anything to keep herself above suspicion. Anything to get her hands on that gun.
"What're you thinking about?"
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“What'm I thinking about?” Jethro chuckled at Ryan, “What aren't I thinking about? Home, my family... death. Thinking bout it all and more. When deaths in the room, you ain't got much choice but to look back on your life and wonder where the hell you went wrong."
“Yeah, I'm gonna die.” Simple, goddamn motherfuckin' truth weren't it? Death, just around the fuckin' corner, and all he could do was sit in this kitchen with this chick waiting for the inevitable. Only one kid had died so far, and fuck if he was gonna be the next.
Fuck that, no he's right. He wasn't gonna be next in line; he was going to keep going! If someone came at him with a gun, then damn if he'd sit there quietly! He'd keep himself and Ryan alive, he vowed with a clenched fist!
….eh, who was he kidding; he sighed and he lowered his fist again. Death was coming fast, and like hell he'd defend himself from anyone shooting at him. He wouldn't sit still, but using the gun? Shit, that was a whole 'nother ball park that he just wasn't gonna hit that sucker out of. Fuck.
“Damn, Ryan! We can't just sit here!” he decreed, jumping to his feet since he couldn't just sit there “We gotta make a plan of action! We sit here forever, we're gonna end up getting shot through that door without a chance to do anything! We need a plan, Ryan!”
They damn well did!
He hoped she had one.
“Yeah, I'm gonna die.” Simple, goddamn motherfuckin' truth weren't it? Death, just around the fuckin' corner, and all he could do was sit in this kitchen with this chick waiting for the inevitable. Only one kid had died so far, and fuck if he was gonna be the next.
Fuck that, no he's right. He wasn't gonna be next in line; he was going to keep going! If someone came at him with a gun, then damn if he'd sit there quietly! He'd keep himself and Ryan alive, he vowed with a clenched fist!
….eh, who was he kidding; he sighed and he lowered his fist again. Death was coming fast, and like hell he'd defend himself from anyone shooting at him. He wouldn't sit still, but using the gun? Shit, that was a whole 'nother ball park that he just wasn't gonna hit that sucker out of. Fuck.
“Damn, Ryan! We can't just sit here!” he decreed, jumping to his feet since he couldn't just sit there “We gotta make a plan of action! We sit here forever, we're gonna end up getting shot through that door without a chance to do anything! We need a plan, Ryan!”
They damn well did!
He hoped she had one.
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
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“Damn, Ryan! We can't just sit here! We gotta make a plan of action! We sit here forever, we're gonna end up getting shot through that door without a chance to do anything! We need a plan, Ryan!”
Ryan was kind of starting to like this guy. He was such a fuckin' guy, what with the whole action-hero WE NEED A PLAN! shit. But he was still holding a gun, and the way he held that gun, the way he looked at still told Ryan that this boy wasn't gonna shoot anyone. And that was very good as long as they weren't being attacked, but was likely to be very, very bad in the future. She scratched her head, pretending to look thoughtful before speaking.
"Well. I mean, this is the Program. Plans don't really do anything, you know? Plans mean fuck-all when kids are out there pumping lead into each other. All we can do is protect ourselves. Stay out of trouble, hidden, as much as possible, and defend ourselves when necessary. And by 'defend ourselves' I mean 'you defend us' given that those bitch-ass fucking cocksuckers gave me a godfucking cardboard box."
Her voice got a little louder as her frustration was made increasingly clear. She shook her head and gave herself a moment to defuse.
"Well...I guess staying here for now's a pretty good idea. Shit, we've been here for how fuckin' long now with no interruptions? It's a good streak, man. The winning streak of not dying. I guarantee, hundred-percent, someone else is dead by now. At least one other person. And it's not us. So clearly we're doing something right. But..."
Ryan looked pointedly at the gun in his hand.
"You need to be ready to use that, man. I can tell you don't want to kill anyone- that's fair enough- but this is the Program. Someone's gotta defend us, you know? I'd do it if I had a gun. Trust me, I'm ready for this shit, but you just seem...kinda...shaky. No offense, man. It's normal, I guess. But I'm gonna be kind of pissed if I get shot because you're busy pussy-footing around."
Yeah, I think he's gonna take offense. Whatever, long as he doesn't shoot me.
Ryan was kind of starting to like this guy. He was such a fuckin' guy, what with the whole action-hero WE NEED A PLAN! shit. But he was still holding a gun, and the way he held that gun, the way he looked at still told Ryan that this boy wasn't gonna shoot anyone. And that was very good as long as they weren't being attacked, but was likely to be very, very bad in the future. She scratched her head, pretending to look thoughtful before speaking.
"Well. I mean, this is the Program. Plans don't really do anything, you know? Plans mean fuck-all when kids are out there pumping lead into each other. All we can do is protect ourselves. Stay out of trouble, hidden, as much as possible, and defend ourselves when necessary. And by 'defend ourselves' I mean 'you defend us' given that those bitch-ass fucking cocksuckers gave me a godfucking cardboard box."
Her voice got a little louder as her frustration was made increasingly clear. She shook her head and gave herself a moment to defuse.
"Well...I guess staying here for now's a pretty good idea. Shit, we've been here for how fuckin' long now with no interruptions? It's a good streak, man. The winning streak of not dying. I guarantee, hundred-percent, someone else is dead by now. At least one other person. And it's not us. So clearly we're doing something right. But..."
Ryan looked pointedly at the gun in his hand.
"You need to be ready to use that, man. I can tell you don't want to kill anyone- that's fair enough- but this is the Program. Someone's gotta defend us, you know? I'd do it if I had a gun. Trust me, I'm ready for this shit, but you just seem...kinda...shaky. No offense, man. It's normal, I guess. But I'm gonna be kind of pissed if I get shot because you're busy pussy-footing around."
Yeah, I think he's gonna take offense. Whatever, long as he doesn't shoot me.
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She wasn't agreeing with Jethro, which on some levels pissed him off. He could see the logic in her words, that what they were doing now was keeping them alive just fine, but at the same time staying in one place was just so damn tense.
He scoffed in frustration, letting Ryan continue with her little piece, letting her go on about how she didn't have a gun as he held his securely in his hand. Yeah, it was shit for her, but what was he supposed to do? It's not like he could go out and grab her another one, so why did she have to keep making it a damn fuss of it?
“Just cause we ain't dead doesn't mean we're doing it right.” he snorted aside, not even sure if Ryan had really heard him. No attacks, a thousand attacks, what difference did it make? Whoever was coming in next didn't give two shits in keeping their peace streak alive, or them alive either. Even if they stayed there forever, eventually people were going to come looking for food, a thought he'd had in his past few hours of quiet time; why he hadn't mentioned it till now was beyond him, but he still kept it to himself.
Then she started going on about that gun again, except this time it was how he wouldn't be able to use the damn thing. Of course he wouldn't be able to use it; he wasn't going to shoot one of his classmates, no matter how fucked up the program was! They didn't deserve to die any more than he did!
“You think it's just gonna be that easy?” he questioned her, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “You think I give you that gun you can just turn it on any one of your old classmates and pull that trigger? What if it's one of your best friends, what then? Kill 'em without a second thought?”
He could've practically laughed; he definitely wasn't listening to her defence if there was one, and he did not take the time to see if he was interrupting her either, chivalry be fucked.
“Kill or be killed; that's bullshit. It's don't be killed or go down screaming, and I think you know what I'm going with.”
He scoffed in frustration, letting Ryan continue with her little piece, letting her go on about how she didn't have a gun as he held his securely in his hand. Yeah, it was shit for her, but what was he supposed to do? It's not like he could go out and grab her another one, so why did she have to keep making it a damn fuss of it?
“Just cause we ain't dead doesn't mean we're doing it right.” he snorted aside, not even sure if Ryan had really heard him. No attacks, a thousand attacks, what difference did it make? Whoever was coming in next didn't give two shits in keeping their peace streak alive, or them alive either. Even if they stayed there forever, eventually people were going to come looking for food, a thought he'd had in his past few hours of quiet time; why he hadn't mentioned it till now was beyond him, but he still kept it to himself.
Then she started going on about that gun again, except this time it was how he wouldn't be able to use the damn thing. Of course he wouldn't be able to use it; he wasn't going to shoot one of his classmates, no matter how fucked up the program was! They didn't deserve to die any more than he did!
“You think it's just gonna be that easy?” he questioned her, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “You think I give you that gun you can just turn it on any one of your old classmates and pull that trigger? What if it's one of your best friends, what then? Kill 'em without a second thought?”
He could've practically laughed; he definitely wasn't listening to her defence if there was one, and he did not take the time to see if he was interrupting her either, chivalry be fucked.
“Kill or be killed; that's bullshit. It's don't be killed or go down screaming, and I think you know what I'm going with.”
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
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“Just cause we ain't dead doesn't mean we're doing it right.”
YES IT DOES THOUGH. Jesus Christ, is this boy a fucking idiot? All of the vague respect she'd built up for the boy in the last thirty seconds or so where she wasn't hating him (it wasn't much, but it was something) disappeared instantly. See, the thing about the fucking Program was that every second you were alive was a victory. One person would live and it probably wasn't going to be you, so your victory, every moment, was being not dead yet. Ryan and Jethro were not dead yet; by default, they were winning. Sure hanging around in this room was tense and boring, every moment, but being alive was this totally awesome thing Ryan planned on doing for as long as possible.
Jesus, was there a right way to do the Program? The government would say the right way was killing the shit out of everyone, but that didn't seem correct. What was Jethro's idea, then?
“You think it's just gonna be that easy?”
Ryan blinked, surprised.
“You think I give you that gun you can just turn it on any one of your old classmates and pull that trigger? What if it's one of your best friends, what then? Kill 'em without a second thought?”
She opened her mouth, quite ready to respond to that. Fuck yes I can turn on one of my classmates and pull the goddamn trigger. What are they to me? Shit, we all know that only one of us is getting out alive, it doesn't make us any better for curling up in a damn ball and accepting it. And no, I'm not gonna fucking kill my best friends, because they're not gonna try to kill me, because I don't make friends with anyone who would betray me like that! Jesus FUCK, this guy is-
But she didn't get the chance.
“Kill or be killed; that's bullshit. It's don't be killed or go down screaming, and I think you know what I'm going with.”
Ryan rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Seriously? Nah, man, trust me, kill or be killed is bullshit everywhere but the fucking Program. Here that is exactly what's happening. One person lives. And it's not gonna be someone afraid of taking out the competition, either. Has anyone ever won this game without killing anyone? No. Exactly. I don't want to die, neither do you, but at least one of us will. Every moment we're not dead yet, that's a victory. If you want to go out there, take the goddamn chance, fine. I'll come with you. I'm better off with you out there than alone in here, at least. But if shit gets a little too real out there, it's your fault for not sticking to the safe spot."
She was getting jumpy already, with the prospect of going back outside. Here she'd managed to suppress her paranoia, at least a little, but the outside world had people. Gun-wielding people. Trying to kill her. Her eye twitched involuntarily. This sucks.
YES IT DOES THOUGH. Jesus Christ, is this boy a fucking idiot? All of the vague respect she'd built up for the boy in the last thirty seconds or so where she wasn't hating him (it wasn't much, but it was something) disappeared instantly. See, the thing about the fucking Program was that every second you were alive was a victory. One person would live and it probably wasn't going to be you, so your victory, every moment, was being not dead yet. Ryan and Jethro were not dead yet; by default, they were winning. Sure hanging around in this room was tense and boring, every moment, but being alive was this totally awesome thing Ryan planned on doing for as long as possible.
Jesus, was there a right way to do the Program? The government would say the right way was killing the shit out of everyone, but that didn't seem correct. What was Jethro's idea, then?
“You think it's just gonna be that easy?”
Ryan blinked, surprised.
“You think I give you that gun you can just turn it on any one of your old classmates and pull that trigger? What if it's one of your best friends, what then? Kill 'em without a second thought?”
She opened her mouth, quite ready to respond to that. Fuck yes I can turn on one of my classmates and pull the goddamn trigger. What are they to me? Shit, we all know that only one of us is getting out alive, it doesn't make us any better for curling up in a damn ball and accepting it. And no, I'm not gonna fucking kill my best friends, because they're not gonna try to kill me, because I don't make friends with anyone who would betray me like that! Jesus FUCK, this guy is-
But she didn't get the chance.
“Kill or be killed; that's bullshit. It's don't be killed or go down screaming, and I think you know what I'm going with.”
Ryan rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Seriously? Nah, man, trust me, kill or be killed is bullshit everywhere but the fucking Program. Here that is exactly what's happening. One person lives. And it's not gonna be someone afraid of taking out the competition, either. Has anyone ever won this game without killing anyone? No. Exactly. I don't want to die, neither do you, but at least one of us will. Every moment we're not dead yet, that's a victory. If you want to go out there, take the goddamn chance, fine. I'll come with you. I'm better off with you out there than alone in here, at least. But if shit gets a little too real out there, it's your fault for not sticking to the safe spot."
She was getting jumpy already, with the prospect of going back outside. Here she'd managed to suppress her paranoia, at least a little, but the outside world had people. Gun-wielding people. Trying to kill her. Her eye twitched involuntarily. This sucks.
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He was getting seriously annoyed now: in the Program or not, Ryan was talking like she was already prepared to lay down and die; the point that Jethro was going out of his way not to make.
“Hey girly, how bout you shut up for a minute and listen to me.” His father would've cringed if he'd heard him talking to a woman like that, but stressful waits and cramped conditions take the manners out of better people than a sixteen year old surrounded by hell. “See where we are right now? In the fucking kitchen. Sooner or later, someone's gonna get real hungry and come here looking for food, and odds are if he's still alive that long he's gonna be toting something that ain't good for our health.”
Yeah, he'd said what he'd been thinking that whole time. Hell, why hadn't he said it sooner? Would've probably pulled Ryan over to his way of thinking a lot faster than just his fucking pep talk.
“Think they know this place is empty?” he asked, the barren shelves around him embellishing the point. “Bet you your life that they'll come here the moment their stomach comes rumbling, and when they find this place is empty?” Munch munch, cannibalism time.
Okay, now he was overreacting, but dealing with some starving guy was not high on his to do list.
"Chill Jeth" he reminded himself, sensing his excitement. "Stuff is shitty enough without you making it worse." Gotta stay cool, gotta stay chilly willy, as he would say years ago when trying to impress his big brothers with childish jargon. Ryan was on edge enough as it was and she didn't need some rifle carrying huge dude bearing down on her like he'd put a bullet in her head at any moment.
“Look, I see where you're coming from,” he resumed, stifling his frustrations with a pinch to the bridge of the nose. “going out there ain't exactly the most inviting thought in the world, I can dig that. But trust me on this, when you're in a war zone the last thing you want to do is stay bunkered down. Keep moving, or you'll get sniped off and that's that.”
Yeah, he'd learnt that from fucking Medal of Honour.
He scooped up his bag and headed towards the door, still holding the gun in his hand. “I ain't gonna make you come with me Ryan, but you just said you would so we might as well make a move, yeah?” He tried to smile, but all that came out was a cocky eyebrow quip.
He knew he was acting rashly, but his body was moving on its own now, pushed along by a tightening force. “Gotta stay on the move, gotta protect the women, gotta be the hero,” he told himself. “Hero ain't going down to no damn sniper.”
“Hey girly, how bout you shut up for a minute and listen to me.” His father would've cringed if he'd heard him talking to a woman like that, but stressful waits and cramped conditions take the manners out of better people than a sixteen year old surrounded by hell. “See where we are right now? In the fucking kitchen. Sooner or later, someone's gonna get real hungry and come here looking for food, and odds are if he's still alive that long he's gonna be toting something that ain't good for our health.”
Yeah, he'd said what he'd been thinking that whole time. Hell, why hadn't he said it sooner? Would've probably pulled Ryan over to his way of thinking a lot faster than just his fucking pep talk.
“Think they know this place is empty?” he asked, the barren shelves around him embellishing the point. “Bet you your life that they'll come here the moment their stomach comes rumbling, and when they find this place is empty?” Munch munch, cannibalism time.
Okay, now he was overreacting, but dealing with some starving guy was not high on his to do list.
"Chill Jeth" he reminded himself, sensing his excitement. "Stuff is shitty enough without you making it worse." Gotta stay cool, gotta stay chilly willy, as he would say years ago when trying to impress his big brothers with childish jargon. Ryan was on edge enough as it was and she didn't need some rifle carrying huge dude bearing down on her like he'd put a bullet in her head at any moment.
“Look, I see where you're coming from,” he resumed, stifling his frustrations with a pinch to the bridge of the nose. “going out there ain't exactly the most inviting thought in the world, I can dig that. But trust me on this, when you're in a war zone the last thing you want to do is stay bunkered down. Keep moving, or you'll get sniped off and that's that.”
Yeah, he'd learnt that from fucking Medal of Honour.
He scooped up his bag and headed towards the door, still holding the gun in his hand. “I ain't gonna make you come with me Ryan, but you just said you would so we might as well make a move, yeah?” He tried to smile, but all that came out was a cocky eyebrow quip.
He knew he was acting rashly, but his body was moving on its own now, pushed along by a tightening force. “Gotta stay on the move, gotta protect the women, gotta be the hero,” he told himself. “Hero ain't going down to no damn sniper.”
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
(Benjamin Latimer continued from ...Once Upon A Time)
He had left the barracks with Johan in time for the next announcement to play. His classmates knew what he had done now. They must be so ashamed of him, how he had killed someone else. Harris.
Of course the minorities would be happy, Harris hadn't been the best to them. He wasn't sure whether they deserved it or not, after all most people seemed to think that the minorities were trouble. Then again, Harris had wanted to shoot him with a shotgun, and that wasn't exactly welcoming.
It seemed Michael hadn't followed them, oh well he was twitchy. Of course they were all twitchy now.
The mess hall stood in front of him. Wonderful. Maybe there's some food in there. I can't make it on just this bread and that ration pack or whatever they call it. He opened the door up, trying to peer inside despite his large frame. "Anyone in here? We just wanna place to crash for the night?"
He felt it was best to check first, he didn't want to get shot as soon as he went inside the door.
He had left the barracks with Johan in time for the next announcement to play. His classmates knew what he had done now. They must be so ashamed of him, how he had killed someone else. Harris.
Of course the minorities would be happy, Harris hadn't been the best to them. He wasn't sure whether they deserved it or not, after all most people seemed to think that the minorities were trouble. Then again, Harris had wanted to shoot him with a shotgun, and that wasn't exactly welcoming.
It seemed Michael hadn't followed them, oh well he was twitchy. Of course they were all twitchy now.
The mess hall stood in front of him. Wonderful. Maybe there's some food in there. I can't make it on just this bread and that ration pack or whatever they call it. He opened the door up, trying to peer inside despite his large frame. "Anyone in here? We just wanna place to crash for the night?"
He felt it was best to check first, he didn't want to get shot as soon as he went inside the door.
(M18 - Johan Luther continued from ...Once Upon A Time.)
After Johan and Ben left the Barracks, the announcements played.
"Resident ...patriot... douche... psycho... uh, Harris Van Allen was the next to go. He too suffered death by hot lead, this time from Benjamin Latimer."
Johan couldn't help but sigh. Great. Just great. Well, at least I wasn't the killer. I could say that Harris deserved it, but then again, does anyone really deserve this?
But he decided to keep silent, since he figured that it wasn't really going to do him any good.
Michael didn't seem to follow, so Johan felt like a weight was taken off of his shoulders. He certainly didn't want an obviously unstable and maybe a little pissed guy with a shotgun following them. Then again, the uncertainty might have been just as bad. But whatever. They had to move on...
As they reached the door, Ben opened the door a bit and peered in. "Anyone in here? We just wanna place to crash for the night?"
Johan silently questioned the wisdom of giving out their location to... someone, but he kept quiet. At least he was out of range.
After Johan and Ben left the Barracks, the announcements played.
"Resident ...patriot... douche... psycho... uh, Harris Van Allen was the next to go. He too suffered death by hot lead, this time from Benjamin Latimer."
Johan couldn't help but sigh. Great. Just great. Well, at least I wasn't the killer. I could say that Harris deserved it, but then again, does anyone really deserve this?
But he decided to keep silent, since he figured that it wasn't really going to do him any good.
Michael didn't seem to follow, so Johan felt like a weight was taken off of his shoulders. He certainly didn't want an obviously unstable and maybe a little pissed guy with a shotgun following them. Then again, the uncertainty might have been just as bad. But whatever. They had to move on...
As they reached the door, Ben opened the door a bit and peered in. "Anyone in here? We just wanna place to crash for the night?"
Johan silently questioned the wisdom of giving out their location to... someone, but he kept quiet. At least he was out of range.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Un67. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
“Hey girly, how bout you shut up for a minute and listen to me.”
This boy was seriously angling to get his ass beat. Ryan took a moment to look the boy over- she figured he was too distracted by his rage to really get what she was doing- deciding exactly where she'd strike for maximum damage. But there was that gun again.
“Think they know this place is empty?” he asked, the barren shelves around him embellishing the point. “Bet you your life that they'll come here the moment their stomach comes rumbling, and when they find this place is empty?"
There were several good responses to that one. Yes, they probably know the place is empty because they never leave food lying around on the Program, ever. Of course our school is full of fucking idiots so it's still possible. And the fuck is that "when they find this place is empty"-question-mark bit about? What, he thinks they're gonna kill us and eat us? Jesus, that's...fucked up. This kid's fucked up. This game is fucked up.
“Look, I see where you're coming from, going out there ain't exactly the most inviting thought in the world, I can dig that. But trust me on this, when you're in a war zone the last thing you want to do is stay bunkered down. Keep moving, or you'll get sniped off and that's that.”
This kid's played too many video games.
“I ain't gonna make you come with me Ryan, but you just said you would so we might as well make a move, yeah?”
God, she was getting sick of Jethro playing hot and cold with her. One moment he was a gigantic asshole and the next he seemed like a pretty decent guy. It was more and more frustrating how she was completely impossible it was for her to beat the everloving fuck out of him, but whatever. Bodyguard, Ryan. He's a goddamn bodyguard, that's all he is. When you meet up with some cooler people you can ditch him. Yeah. Awesome plan.
She opened her mouth to speak.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT-
MOTHERFUCKER-
Ryan knew what that buzzing noise was, not that that stopped her from jumping when she heard it. She didn't want to hear it, either, given that the announcements were really just five minute of bad news and bullshit. Wasn't the last announcement, like, mad recent? Shit, we've been here longer than I thought. Maybe he's right, maybe we should get out of here while the gettin's good, or whatever that fucking saying is.
The announcement had begun as she spoke. "Yeah, no, you're right, I guess. Sort of right." Admitting being wrong was not something Ryan excelled in. "We should get out of here. I mean, I don't think you're right on the whole, everyone's gonna run here and go all cannibalistic on our shit front, but I think we might as well go. This just kinda sucks, honestly, sitting around doing nothing. If we're gonna-"
"Vaughn Pearson and Chanel Martin did the dirty deed to one another. Uh... killed each other, th-"
That's as much as Ryan heard before a strangled shriek emerged from her throat.
She stared at the nearby speaker, willing it to add a JUST KIDDING to the end of that remark, but instead Adams moved right on to the next death of the day, leaving Ryan standing there in stunned silence, eyes locked on the speaker like something was likely to crawl out of it. She felt her head shake- just twitching a fraction of an inch to either side, over and over, because there was no way Chanel Martin was dead. That was impossible because Chanel Martin was Ryan's best friend and she could not be dead. It was impossible. There was no fucking way and Ryan wasn't going to accept it.
She was barely noticing the announcements anymore, so it was pure luck that she managed to heat "Lastly, good ol' Henry Barren learned-" but that was all she heard before erupting again.
"FUCK! No, no, no, shit, Henry, not you too-"
Her head was shaking more rapidly now as she denied everything, repeatedly and loudly, because goddammit, this wasn't how this was supposed to happen. She was supposed to find Chanel, find Henry, and they were supposed to...supposed to what? Waltz on outta the program? No, that didn't matter, it didn't matter because Chanel and Henry were dead and Ryan would never, ever see them again.
"Anyone in here? We just wanna place to crash for the night?"
Bad timing on the boy's part.
"NO! Get the FUCK out of here!" Ryan screamed at the boy coming through the door, her voice breaking with her barely-repressed rage. If she had a gun the poor boy'd probably be dead already.
Not that she gave a fuck. Not that she gave a fuck about much right now.
This boy was seriously angling to get his ass beat. Ryan took a moment to look the boy over- she figured he was too distracted by his rage to really get what she was doing- deciding exactly where she'd strike for maximum damage. But there was that gun again.
“Think they know this place is empty?” he asked, the barren shelves around him embellishing the point. “Bet you your life that they'll come here the moment their stomach comes rumbling, and when they find this place is empty?"
There were several good responses to that one. Yes, they probably know the place is empty because they never leave food lying around on the Program, ever. Of course our school is full of fucking idiots so it's still possible. And the fuck is that "when they find this place is empty"-question-mark bit about? What, he thinks they're gonna kill us and eat us? Jesus, that's...fucked up. This kid's fucked up. This game is fucked up.
“Look, I see where you're coming from, going out there ain't exactly the most inviting thought in the world, I can dig that. But trust me on this, when you're in a war zone the last thing you want to do is stay bunkered down. Keep moving, or you'll get sniped off and that's that.”
This kid's played too many video games.
“I ain't gonna make you come with me Ryan, but you just said you would so we might as well make a move, yeah?”
God, she was getting sick of Jethro playing hot and cold with her. One moment he was a gigantic asshole and the next he seemed like a pretty decent guy. It was more and more frustrating how she was completely impossible it was for her to beat the everloving fuck out of him, but whatever. Bodyguard, Ryan. He's a goddamn bodyguard, that's all he is. When you meet up with some cooler people you can ditch him. Yeah. Awesome plan.
She opened her mouth to speak.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT-
MOTHERFUCKER-
Ryan knew what that buzzing noise was, not that that stopped her from jumping when she heard it. She didn't want to hear it, either, given that the announcements were really just five minute of bad news and bullshit. Wasn't the last announcement, like, mad recent? Shit, we've been here longer than I thought. Maybe he's right, maybe we should get out of here while the gettin's good, or whatever that fucking saying is.
The announcement had begun as she spoke. "Yeah, no, you're right, I guess. Sort of right." Admitting being wrong was not something Ryan excelled in. "We should get out of here. I mean, I don't think you're right on the whole, everyone's gonna run here and go all cannibalistic on our shit front, but I think we might as well go. This just kinda sucks, honestly, sitting around doing nothing. If we're gonna-"
"Vaughn Pearson and Chanel Martin did the dirty deed to one another. Uh... killed each other, th-"
That's as much as Ryan heard before a strangled shriek emerged from her throat.
She stared at the nearby speaker, willing it to add a JUST KIDDING to the end of that remark, but instead Adams moved right on to the next death of the day, leaving Ryan standing there in stunned silence, eyes locked on the speaker like something was likely to crawl out of it. She felt her head shake- just twitching a fraction of an inch to either side, over and over, because there was no way Chanel Martin was dead. That was impossible because Chanel Martin was Ryan's best friend and she could not be dead. It was impossible. There was no fucking way and Ryan wasn't going to accept it.
She was barely noticing the announcements anymore, so it was pure luck that she managed to heat "Lastly, good ol' Henry Barren learned-" but that was all she heard before erupting again.
"FUCK! No, no, no, shit, Henry, not you too-"
Her head was shaking more rapidly now as she denied everything, repeatedly and loudly, because goddammit, this wasn't how this was supposed to happen. She was supposed to find Chanel, find Henry, and they were supposed to...supposed to what? Waltz on outta the program? No, that didn't matter, it didn't matter because Chanel and Henry were dead and Ryan would never, ever see them again.
"Anyone in here? We just wanna place to crash for the night?"
Bad timing on the boy's part.
"NO! Get the FUCK out of here!" Ryan screamed at the boy coming through the door, her voice breaking with her barely-repressed rage. If she had a gun the poor boy'd probably be dead already.
Not that she gave a fuck. Not that she gave a fuck about much right now.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
((Sorry. Inactivity Cop.))
Yeah. New people were coming. That was some bad shit right there. Real nightmare news. And Ryan was flipping out, too. They were going to die. They were gonna get gunned down in here by some moron with a machine gun, trapped like rats in a box. Oh hell no. That wasn't going to happen to Jethro Stuarts.
So he shouted over his shoulder, "Come on!" and raced out the door, shoving past the new arrivals. Sure, it wasn't very smart or elegant, but at least he had surprise on his side.
((Jethro Stuarts continued in Plenty Death To Go Around))
Yeah. New people were coming. That was some bad shit right there. Real nightmare news. And Ryan was flipping out, too. They were going to die. They were gonna get gunned down in here by some moron with a machine gun, trapped like rats in a box. Oh hell no. That wasn't going to happen to Jethro Stuarts.
So he shouted over his shoulder, "Come on!" and raced out the door, shoving past the new arrivals. Sure, it wasn't very smart or elegant, but at least he had surprise on his side.
((Jethro Stuarts continued in Plenty Death To Go Around))
((Luke Mendoza Continued from: There's No Fun in Playing Cowboys for Pretend.))
He was headed to the Mess Hall. With hungry people around, there was bound to be others there. Using it as a base maybe; not too many rooms, it was perfect. But no sooner as Luke neared the building; a black kid was darting away from it. A gun was in his hand. One thing was for sure; the Mess Hall, was now a building that Luke decided to best keep away from, at least right now. If a guy with a gun ran away from there, it could only mean trouble. He'd come back later. For now, he'd keep his distance on the boy, but slowly follow him in his haste.
((Luke Mendoza Continued to: Plenty Death To Go Around.))
He was headed to the Mess Hall. With hungry people around, there was bound to be others there. Using it as a base maybe; not too many rooms, it was perfect. But no sooner as Luke neared the building; a black kid was darting away from it. A gun was in his hand. One thing was for sure; the Mess Hall, was now a building that Luke decided to best keep away from, at least right now. If a guy with a gun ran away from there, it could only mean trouble. He'd come back later. For now, he'd keep his distance on the boy, but slowly follow him in his haste.
((Luke Mendoza Continued to: Plenty Death To Go Around.))
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
Dang. Screaming. Did they know who was and what he had done? Was that why they were screaming at him to leave? Still, what if she was dangerous. Had a gun. He didn't want to get killed by some crazy chick with a gun. He had to remember their plan, no use getting in unnecessary fights.
Guess I'll just be leaving then.
Then some guy came charging out, running away. Whoa man, I'm not going to hurt you. That's what he wanted to say, but he didn't. He hadn't planned on killing Harris, and look where that had gotten him. But then the guy was gone. Nothing to worry about, right?
He waited. Yelling chick might come running out the next moment, at the same time maybe she was upset with him and that's why she went all crazy.
He turned to Johan and mouthed the word "Plan?" He needed a second opinion, his own hadn't been doing too hot lately. It had ended in someone else dying, it would be better to let Johan take over for a minute.
Guess I'll just be leaving then.
Then some guy came charging out, running away. Whoa man, I'm not going to hurt you. That's what he wanted to say, but he didn't. He hadn't planned on killing Harris, and look where that had gotten him. But then the guy was gone. Nothing to worry about, right?
He waited. Yelling chick might come running out the next moment, at the same time maybe she was upset with him and that's why she went all crazy.
He turned to Johan and mouthed the word "Plan?" He needed a second opinion, his own hadn't been doing too hot lately. It had ended in someone else dying, it would be better to let Johan take over for a minute.
In the middle of the announcements, Johan heard screaming. He gulped. Screaming was never a good sign, even if he didn't have the first clue what people were screaming about.
And then Johan saw someone running out of the door.
It didn't seem like they were running away from Johan and Ben, though. But Johan did hear a "Come on!", so there was probably more people to come.
Ben seemed hesitant. Johan wanted to get out ASAP, but figured he had to wait for Ben. who then mouthed to Johan, "Plan?"
Johan quickly mouthed back, "Out.", and decided that he didn't see any point in waiting any longer, and finally went out the door. Ben had better follow him.
(M18 - Johan Luther continued in Nice Morning for a Shootout)
And then Johan saw someone running out of the door.
It didn't seem like they were running away from Johan and Ben, though. But Johan did hear a "Come on!", so there was probably more people to come.
Ben seemed hesitant. Johan wanted to get out ASAP, but figured he had to wait for Ben. who then mouthed to Johan, "Plan?"
Johan quickly mouthed back, "Out.", and decided that he didn't see any point in waiting any longer, and finally went out the door. Ben had better follow him.
(M18 - Johan Luther continued in Nice Morning for a Shootout)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Un67. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.