Conviction

[Blastinus*]

(Cole Peters start)

"Survive or die..." Cole Peters muttered to himself, turning over the diamond-shaped shield that he'd found next to his bag. It was called a heater shield, not that he'd have known that. It hadn't come with any instructions. He wouldn't have read them if it had. All he knew was that there was a leather strap on one side, and common sense told him that he was supposed to hold it that way.

As if he actually wanted to.

He'd woken in some run-down shack with nothing for comfort but a ratty-looking bed and a rickety chair, and there he'd stayed, leaning against a wall and just thinking to himself as a knot slowly grew in his chest. The more he went over his chances in his head, the more he began to realize the truth. He hadn't been given the best weapon. This was hardly a weapon at all. And there were people who were bigger, stronger, smarter...The facts were very clear.

Cole Peters was going to die.

The stone in his stomach grew larger, and his arms drooped, his hand limply holding the shield by its strap. Maybe he should just stay here, just stay against this wall and wait for someone to put a bullet in his brain. He was either dead here, or dead when he came home. What was the difference?

"I hope you're happy, dad..." he mumbled, his gaze turned upward. He slid down onto his rear, his knees up against his chest. Everything was so heavy, so cold...He knew that feeling. It was the same one he felt when he lined up for assembly, when his name was read, when he limply walked onto the bus. Cole Peters was feeling defeat, and he'd barely just started.

[Cicadan]

There was a moment's warning with heavy footsteps on the gravel outside the door. Then it creaked open, and the girl opening the door immediately found the eyes of the boy inside.

Annalise's lips stayed plastered into a light frown. Two hands were stuffed into her grey wool hoodie's front pocket. They came out.

"Not armed. Or we'd be talking less and fighting more... like some kind of married couple," she drolly mused.

She leaned against the doorway for support, casually slouching a bit forward.

"My weapon's useless for killing anyways, but if you're in the market for an air pump I'm accepting offers."

[Blastinus*]

Cole raised his head as the door opened. Here it came, he figured. Some gung-ho trooper with a machete's going to waltz in and hack him to pieces. An ignoble, morbid end to a wasted life.

To his surprise, the woman who leaned in came empty-handed. He smirked a little at her snarky humor, despite himself. Nice to see someone keeping their sense of humor at a time like this. He raised his shield, waving it around in silent agreement, and replied "Fate's got it in for us, I guess. Well," he pushed himself off the wall and to his feet, "it isn't much, but you're welcome to have a seat if you like."

The shack had a small window, and he peered around to be sure that nobody was waiting outside. He didn't think this girl was lying, but there was always the possibility. Once he was satisfied, he turned and added while scratching his chin, "I've been hiding out here, waiting for all the...craziness to die down." That wasn't entirely true, but no one needed to know that a grown man was cowering in existential dread.

As if in response, a salvo of gunfire echoed through the air, sending him back towards the window. Who knew where it came from, or what it meant, but at least it sounded like it came from far away. Hopefully very, very far...

"Yeah," he nodded, chewing his lip. "No sense getting caught in the middle of..." he gestured towards the window, "...whatever that is."

[Cicadan]

Fate?

"Bullshit. Just RNG, dude. All that chemistry and physics." Annalise didn't take a seat. She pointed a gun at the kid. Two fingers extended, and the thumb as the unpulled trigger. "This uh, craziness. As you put it.." She chewed slowly on her words, spit them out lazily. "It's not dying down. Well, shit, maybe dying is the right word."

She nodded briskly when gunfire sounded somewhere in the distance. "See what I mean?" She cracked a taunting little smile.

"Only reason I'm not out there is because I'm not ready yet, y'know? Otherwise... it's what I've gotta do. Same with you." Bang, went her finger gun pointed right at his silly little face. "You just don't know it yet."

[Blastinus*]

Finger guns. Cole raised an eyebrow at the audacity of it all. Either this girl wasn't taking this game seriously, or maybe she was trying to psych herself up with these shenanigans. Either way, he found her attitude quite fascinating.

"What I've gotta do, huh?" he replied, leaning against the wall again. He shook his head sardonically, muttering, "I knew it. Survive or die..." Of course that was going to come up again. "I mean, you're not wrong. I can't stay in here all day. Just..."

He paced back and forth, pondering how to phrase this. He really didn't want to come off weak, didn't want to give the impression that he was an easy mark. But on reflection...If he was going to die anyway, he might as well spill it to someone.

Heaving a large sigh and slipping his hand through the loop of his shield just in case, he leveled his eyes at Annalise and said, "I don't want to hurt anyone. More than dying, I think about someone's blood on my hands and..." he couldn't even bring himself to put it into words. "My dad tried to get me to hunt squirrels, and I wouldn't even hold his rifle. I threw it away."

Scratching his fuzzy scalp through his hat, he laughed feebly and remarked, "Dang, I must sound really pathetic right now."

[Cicadan]

"Kinda pathetic." Stoic pupils traced his pacing.  She'd been shaking her head slightly, watching him speak.

"If you're going to be like that you're going to die," she shrugged. "But if that's the price you're willing to pay, more power to you... Hey. Next time we meet and I have a weapon I'll give you a clean kill. No pain. Seems like a fair bargain."

She shifted, taking a stronger position in the doorway, no longer slouching but erect on her spine. Half facing out the door, eyes searching outside of the little shack.

[Blastinus*]

When Annalise said that Cole was going to die, he grimly nodded his assent, because even if she was a bit harsh in saying so, the girl had a definite point. This was a game that only had one winner, and the only way to win was to kill, so by definition, he was destined to lose. It only followed logically.

But wait a moment...he stopped pacing suddenly, recognition dawning on his face. If victory was out of his grasp by default, if it was guaranteed that he would not be the winner, then why should he be bothered about winning? Slowly, steadily, a smile began to creep across his face as ideas raced through his head. If he was going to lose, then he would to be sure that the way he exited was well and truly spectacular.

"Yeah, well, be seeing you. Good luck out there."

He'd wait for her to get a fair distance from the shack before he went off himself. He didn't have a clear plan for what he had in mind, but once he gathered some supplies from wherever they might be hiding, something would surely jump out at him.

(Cole Peters continued in Last Scott Standing)

[Cicadan]

She quietly stepped out, head already turned elsewhere before he was done wishing her luck. She smiled to himself. He'd been good company, but out here the best company was the self.

She didn't get why he'd been smiling, or why he'd bothered to offer her a token farewell, but to each his own. She stalked through the streets, carefully listening for trouble. She found a lonely alleyway to take for herself. She found a loose gutter with it's grate poorly secured, crashing through it with a thunderous slip.

Something on the side of her head cracked when she impacted the dry concrete below, bathed in darkness, her body missing the beam of sunlight streaming through. She called for help.


Dramatically, she called for help.



Desperately, she called for help.







Piteously, she called for help.








Weakly, she called for help.







Annalise Franklin - Deceased