Somehow, even though Maxwell could see the gun this time, the second gunshot inspired much less panic than the first.
Maybe it was because he knew the noise was coming, this time. Maybe it was because the noise wasn’t new. Maybe some part of his subconscious was able to catch that the gun had not been aimed at him as it fired, but it didn’t really matter. Even though it’d still caused his body to flare up in panic, even though a part of that initial burst was still present, under the surface, he could pretend it wasn’t there. Be thankful that Wendy was for whatever reason not training the gun on him. Remind himself in the future to not put himself in the open, not put himself into danger for such a silly and pointless reason.
He imagined that there wouldn’t be any more opportunities to put that lesson into action, given how impendent everything now seemed to be, but it was still a lesson learned, in any case.
“So you killed her because of that?” He asked, letting his body lean against the container he’d been on only a moment ago. “I’m not getting your logic here.”
He imagined that his non-verbal denial of the food was evident enough. Even if the food wasn’t poisoned (which he highly doubted), the effort he would have to take to get back up to Wendy, the fact that he would need to put himself in the open again didn’t seem worth it. Even if part of his body wanted the food, he figured it was best he stay here, talking to Wendy.
Loosely listening as the other three began to converge on the two of them.
We Own The Night
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1255
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:15 pm
- Location: there is a man standing behind you
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
- Contact:
"What was done for our friends was done: Out of Love."
Expression gone, neutral. Tone straight forward, simple.
"This. They couldn't do it anymore. Yumi, was already dead when she asked me to put her at peace, like Felicia. All I did was pull the trigger."
Felicia. Yumi. The boy was emotionally close to them as well. He deserved a response, peace of mind and piece of puzzle. She could respect that. No matter how difficult it was to talk about considering the dumb mistake of the misdeed. At least the intentions were pure. However, after, it would be up to him to join the picnic or not.
"Wasn't easy, but didn't want it to be someone terrible, that's why she chose me. Someone they could trust. Everyone else was either collateral damage. Or they deserved it."
After that it was silence on Wendy's end. Eye-contact averted for the most part, as she looked below them both, down to their campgrounds. Initial conversation with her new shattered leg acquaintance, would need to cease for now, for more than one reason, evident as the numbers made their approach to the GPS center. Hopefully she could keep this one alive, unlike the last broken buddy, for as long as possible anyway. No tar pits for burial at this junction.
Wendy turned away, paying no heed to B02, letting him ruminate. She carefully descended from the shipping container vantage point by way of rear side ladder, her few things in tow, as she closed her way to the hearth of her picnic. She placed the blue cooler next to one of the wooden crate turned seats circling the barrel bonfire and opened it up, nodding at the scaly occupant inside, before tending to the roast and stirring the fire. It was drafty up above, without a decent pair of pants, so the warmth was quite nice. Maxie could stay up there if he didn't want any, his loss. Like Christmas morning, it was an anxious wait for the other arrivals.
As if on cue the GPS went off with a second rapid blink signaling at least one other numbers was now dangerously close-by. She looked at the interface, then sat, cross legged on the wooden crate next to Mr. Dolph, rifle resting casually on lap and stoking the fire, as she whistled to the tune of Sweet Daisy Bell.
Expression gone, neutral. Tone straight forward, simple.
"This. They couldn't do it anymore. Yumi, was already dead when she asked me to put her at peace, like Felicia. All I did was pull the trigger."
Felicia. Yumi. The boy was emotionally close to them as well. He deserved a response, peace of mind and piece of puzzle. She could respect that. No matter how difficult it was to talk about considering the dumb mistake of the misdeed. At least the intentions were pure. However, after, it would be up to him to join the picnic or not.
"Wasn't easy, but didn't want it to be someone terrible, that's why she chose me. Someone they could trust. Everyone else was either collateral damage. Or they deserved it."
After that it was silence on Wendy's end. Eye-contact averted for the most part, as she looked below them both, down to their campgrounds. Initial conversation with her new shattered leg acquaintance, would need to cease for now, for more than one reason, evident as the numbers made their approach to the GPS center. Hopefully she could keep this one alive, unlike the last broken buddy, for as long as possible anyway. No tar pits for burial at this junction.
Wendy turned away, paying no heed to B02, letting him ruminate. She carefully descended from the shipping container vantage point by way of rear side ladder, her few things in tow, as she closed her way to the hearth of her picnic. She placed the blue cooler next to one of the wooden crate turned seats circling the barrel bonfire and opened it up, nodding at the scaly occupant inside, before tending to the roast and stirring the fire. It was drafty up above, without a decent pair of pants, so the warmth was quite nice. Maxie could stay up there if he didn't want any, his loss. Like Christmas morning, it was an anxious wait for the other arrivals.
As if on cue the GPS went off with a second rapid blink signaling at least one other numbers was now dangerously close-by. She looked at the interface, then sat, cross legged on the wooden crate next to Mr. Dolph, rifle resting casually on lap and stoking the fire, as she whistled to the tune of Sweet Daisy Bell.
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
There was something odd about Kris's mannerisms. Something stilted, something awkward. Chuck was sure that, if he was to examine them in detail, pick apart each idiosyncrasy and eccentricity, he would have either found a deluge of emotion behind every word or a complete absence of it. There was a lot to pick apart there, a lot to scrutinise there, and Chuck knew it wasn't his place. He couldn't help but ponder, just on a casual superficial level, what actually was behind it all. In this moment, without delving deep into what he hoped was an accurate memory, he couldn't even remember what Kris had done on the announcements.
Maybe it was odder that his mannerisms hadn't changed. Or had they? Sure, he wasn't quick with a joke or easy with a pop culture reference any more, and he wasn't primed and ready to spring into some debate like he usually was. But had his accent deepened? Had his way of talking changed? He wasn't sure. He was curious about that too, but not exactly a question he could ask Kris. She was hardly an impartial observer to this, too. Plus, well, she had her own shit to deal with. It'd be pretty selfish to keep on dragging the conversation - or what passed for a conversation, a long cry from the easy banter he had enjoyed with Lance, Michael, Kyran, Scarlett, even Natali and Maxwell - back to his own story.
Doesn't mean it wasn't tempting, though.
His story was the only one he knew, after all. Everybody else that he had travelled with and interacted with had died by the time of his confrontation with Saachi. At least, Chuck thought so. Again, he was really doubting his memory here.
He was also doubting his interpretation of every sentence Kris uttered. Had that been a dry joke? A cutting put down? A plainspoken reply from someone too distracted to bother with any double meanings? All he could garner from it without too much ambiguity was that it was an invitation to join the others. Chuck straightened up, inelegantly scooped up his supplies, and nodded. "You think it's a good idea to go over there?" How he was in a de facto team with her was beyond him. "I mean, you know, doesn't sound like there's a fierce battle ragin' over there, but I did hear gunshots. I mean, I'm sure you heard 'em too. Just...if you think it's a good idea, we'll go."
Maybe it was odder that his mannerisms hadn't changed. Or had they? Sure, he wasn't quick with a joke or easy with a pop culture reference any more, and he wasn't primed and ready to spring into some debate like he usually was. But had his accent deepened? Had his way of talking changed? He wasn't sure. He was curious about that too, but not exactly a question he could ask Kris. She was hardly an impartial observer to this, too. Plus, well, she had her own shit to deal with. It'd be pretty selfish to keep on dragging the conversation - or what passed for a conversation, a long cry from the easy banter he had enjoyed with Lance, Michael, Kyran, Scarlett, even Natali and Maxwell - back to his own story.
Doesn't mean it wasn't tempting, though.
His story was the only one he knew, after all. Everybody else that he had travelled with and interacted with had died by the time of his confrontation with Saachi. At least, Chuck thought so. Again, he was really doubting his memory here.
He was also doubting his interpretation of every sentence Kris uttered. Had that been a dry joke? A cutting put down? A plainspoken reply from someone too distracted to bother with any double meanings? All he could garner from it without too much ambiguity was that it was an invitation to join the others. Chuck straightened up, inelegantly scooped up his supplies, and nodded. "You think it's a good idea to go over there?" How he was in a de facto team with her was beyond him. "I mean, you know, doesn't sound like there's a fierce battle ragin' over there, but I did hear gunshots. I mean, I'm sure you heard 'em too. Just...if you think it's a good idea, we'll go."
He still hadn't learned.
She didn't look back, merely kept drifting further forward towards the flame. A moth, drawn towards the guiding light.
"There are no good ideas." She said simply as she continued deeper into the darkness.
As she moved closer the darkness gave way to light, forced back by the flicker of the flames in the center of the clearing. Man-made, like the rest of their arena. An unnatural forest, built to contain them and everything they did. Arranged for perfect understanding and clarity of vision.
The strength of the light grew as she got ever closer but she didn't step out from the corridor she was in. Instead, she rested her hand against the side, feeling the cold metal still. The fireflies in her possession hummed as the realized what was in front of them. Their excitement growing as their moment came ever closer. She hushed them with a pat as her eyes ran themselves over the scene, taking in the surroundings.
She looked out at the arrangement that surrounded the dancing light and at the person sitting on the box.
Playing at playing.
She didn't look back, merely kept drifting further forward towards the flame. A moth, drawn towards the guiding light.
"There are no good ideas." She said simply as she continued deeper into the darkness.
As she moved closer the darkness gave way to light, forced back by the flicker of the flames in the center of the clearing. Man-made, like the rest of their arena. An unnatural forest, built to contain them and everything they did. Arranged for perfect understanding and clarity of vision.
The strength of the light grew as she got ever closer but she didn't step out from the corridor she was in. Instead, she rested her hand against the side, feeling the cold metal still. The fireflies in her possession hummed as the realized what was in front of them. Their excitement growing as their moment came ever closer. She hushed them with a pat as her eyes ran themselves over the scene, taking in the surroundings.
She looked out at the arrangement that surrounded the dancing light and at the person sitting on the box.
Playing at playing.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
Bunny grumbled silently.
The ringing in her ears had mostly stopped, and now that she could actually concentrate on her surroundings, she could see there was definitely a way to get up on top of the shipping container in front of her. There was a stack of wooden pallets a couple metres off that looked as though they’d just about hold her weight, even if they were waterlogged and mouldy. It’d still be a scramble to get up on the metal crate itself, and she’d get mud all over her front in the process, but, like, just look at her? It wasn’t as though that’d make a huge amount of difference. That wasn’t an issue.
But what was an issue was the fact that it wouldn’t be quiet, and it definitely wouldn’t be subtle at all. If whoever was up there didn’t hear the sound of creaking wood, they’d definitely hear the sound of her clambering up the edge of the metal crate. And… then what? She’d just be pulling herself up and over the edge and potentially face first into a bullet. Wasn’t as though she could just jump up there, gun drawn, raining hot lead down on people below her.
She guessed she could just stay down here, kicking her feet and waiting for… something. She’d stay safe and out of the way if she did. She’d just have to wait for that announcement to let her know that, obviously, she was the best one here, and also the only one alive, and they’d be sending a helicopter her way soon.
Only thing was… that was real boring, wasn’t it?
Bunny Barlowe didn’t do ‘boring’.
She strolled over to the stack of pallets, clambering on top of them, wincing as they made an ominous and far, far too loud creaking sound. They held, at least, as she crouched on top of them, but she was almost certain that anyone up on the containers themselves would have heard it. Maybe she could at the very least peek over the top to see who was up there?
…
Nope. She was too short. Damnit.
Bunny let out a heavy sigh, crouched down again, then jumped the short distance required for her to grab hold of the container; luckily, that didn’t make as loud a sound as the pallets had. She could feel dried mud digging into her chest, and fresh rainwater and wet mud seeping into her clothes, but anything was preferable to blood seeping out of them.
Slowly, she began to heave herself up the ledge, arms aching the second she started pulling herself up. This was the sorta thing that would have made her gym teacher yell at her, back at school, but guess what? Now she could just blame malnutrition, numerous wounds, and exhaustion for it! Take that, Ms. Warner!
After several more seconds, with Bunny trying to muffle her grunts of exertion, she had clambered up on top of the container. She allowed herself another second to breath, before she looked around to see if anyone was close by.
Ah. Yeah. Yeah, there was somebody. Somebody sitting around a makeshift campfire, somebody that Bunny was very very pleased to see, in that good old fashioned ‘oh I’m so glad you’re here, now I can rip your guts out’ kind of way.
“Heya Wendy!” she chirped.
The ringing in her ears had mostly stopped, and now that she could actually concentrate on her surroundings, she could see there was definitely a way to get up on top of the shipping container in front of her. There was a stack of wooden pallets a couple metres off that looked as though they’d just about hold her weight, even if they were waterlogged and mouldy. It’d still be a scramble to get up on the metal crate itself, and she’d get mud all over her front in the process, but, like, just look at her? It wasn’t as though that’d make a huge amount of difference. That wasn’t an issue.
But what was an issue was the fact that it wouldn’t be quiet, and it definitely wouldn’t be subtle at all. If whoever was up there didn’t hear the sound of creaking wood, they’d definitely hear the sound of her clambering up the edge of the metal crate. And… then what? She’d just be pulling herself up and over the edge and potentially face first into a bullet. Wasn’t as though she could just jump up there, gun drawn, raining hot lead down on people below her.
She guessed she could just stay down here, kicking her feet and waiting for… something. She’d stay safe and out of the way if she did. She’d just have to wait for that announcement to let her know that, obviously, she was the best one here, and also the only one alive, and they’d be sending a helicopter her way soon.
Only thing was… that was real boring, wasn’t it?
Bunny Barlowe didn’t do ‘boring’.
She strolled over to the stack of pallets, clambering on top of them, wincing as they made an ominous and far, far too loud creaking sound. They held, at least, as she crouched on top of them, but she was almost certain that anyone up on the containers themselves would have heard it. Maybe she could at the very least peek over the top to see who was up there?
…
Nope. She was too short. Damnit.
Bunny let out a heavy sigh, crouched down again, then jumped the short distance required for her to grab hold of the container; luckily, that didn’t make as loud a sound as the pallets had. She could feel dried mud digging into her chest, and fresh rainwater and wet mud seeping into her clothes, but anything was preferable to blood seeping out of them.
Slowly, she began to heave herself up the ledge, arms aching the second she started pulling herself up. This was the sorta thing that would have made her gym teacher yell at her, back at school, but guess what? Now she could just blame malnutrition, numerous wounds, and exhaustion for it! Take that, Ms. Warner!
After several more seconds, with Bunny trying to muffle her grunts of exertion, she had clambered up on top of the container. She allowed herself another second to breath, before she looked around to see if anyone was close by.
Ah. Yeah. Yeah, there was somebody. Somebody sitting around a makeshift campfire, somebody that Bunny was very very pleased to see, in that good old fashioned ‘oh I’m so glad you’re here, now I can rip your guts out’ kind of way.
“Heya Wendy!” she chirped.
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1255
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:15 pm
- Location: there is a man standing behind you
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
- Contact:
“Your definition of love seems very different from mi-” he said, as Wendy disappeared from sight, forfeiting the need for Maxwell to continue his sentence. He opted to stand there, instead. Plan. See if there was anything he would need to do, moving forward.
...
There was a loud rumbling sound from the semi-distance before a voice called. Given their position past Wendy’s former container, given his current level of elevation, his capability to observe the newcomer wasn’t exactly ideal, but given her voice being a common auditory presence before these seven days started, given that her voice had been the only one out of these five he hadn’t heard through this time, he could make a fairly educated guess as to who it belonged to. He could — given her reputation in this game, given what Victor had directly told him about her — imagine that staying out of her way, not indicating his position would be the best option.
...Although, given that his position had been made obvious from his voice alone…
He proceeded to start the process of getting down off of this smaller shipping container. He sat down — as hard as a sudden burst of pain in his leg chose to make that — brought the trident out again, and slowly pushed himself downwards until gravity finished the job. He adjusted, got balance back, before looking up at Wendy’s container.
...Might be smarter to move now, given the noise he'd made getting down, but he wanted a hint of how this confrontation was going to go before he did so. He imagined there was worth in doing that.
...
There was a loud rumbling sound from the semi-distance before a voice called. Given their position past Wendy’s former container, given his current level of elevation, his capability to observe the newcomer wasn’t exactly ideal, but given her voice being a common auditory presence before these seven days started, given that her voice had been the only one out of these five he hadn’t heard through this time, he could make a fairly educated guess as to who it belonged to. He could — given her reputation in this game, given what Victor had directly told him about her — imagine that staying out of her way, not indicating his position would be the best option.
...Although, given that his position had been made obvious from his voice alone…
He proceeded to start the process of getting down off of this smaller shipping container. He sat down — as hard as a sudden burst of pain in his leg chose to make that — brought the trident out again, and slowly pushed himself downwards until gravity finished the job. He adjusted, got balance back, before looking up at Wendy’s container.
...Might be smarter to move now, given the noise he'd made getting down, but he wanted a hint of how this confrontation was going to go before he did so. He imagined there was worth in doing that.
There they were, the blinking dots, the numbers, converging.
Indeed there was a flame and as an old saying would imply - they were a fluttering eclipse in the darkness of night attracted but headed for certain, uncertainty. A butterfly of sorts sure, not quite the kaleidoscope of pixie wings as she saw within her favorite meadow, but she could see it that way. With positivity rather than a glass half full.
They were gathering to a spot of light, warmth, comfort, some semblance of delightful dine. A picnic much like the feast for flowers and with the pollination of poor, pretty, petal-less Panya. A pleasant day, a stunning visual display while picking posies and petunias with the Scarlett warrior. They were the bright gold Monarchs left after the storm, a fire storm which wiped away the rest of them, the moths.
They emerged, a cute cap, worn by a partner to that very same Scarlett warrior as she viewed by her short time at the lake, and a solemn, less familiar face. The other, the broken boy above, carefully, quietly making his way down from his perch above.
Wendy's lips curved to a mild smile as she observed her new arrivals, opening her mouth ready to speak, when a loud squawk reverberated through her, bouncing off the metal walls of these shipping containers which formed the borders of their camp. The blinking dot, the most familiar number on the GPS interface, was behind her. She turned around, no one there, but she looked up with squinting eyes and a minor scowl at the interruption. Sure enough she saw the big fat chicken hawk, filled to the brim with glee scouting from up above.
"Bunny." Wendy spoke, letting the sneer dissipate from her, back to hostess-like harmony.
"Good to see ya. Come. Sit down. Must be nice to have a place to stay, after your last home went up in smoke, am I right?"
A flip of a braid, a happy grin.
Indeed there was a flame and as an old saying would imply - they were a fluttering eclipse in the darkness of night attracted but headed for certain, uncertainty. A butterfly of sorts sure, not quite the kaleidoscope of pixie wings as she saw within her favorite meadow, but she could see it that way. With positivity rather than a glass half full.
They were gathering to a spot of light, warmth, comfort, some semblance of delightful dine. A picnic much like the feast for flowers and with the pollination of poor, pretty, petal-less Panya. A pleasant day, a stunning visual display while picking posies and petunias with the Scarlett warrior. They were the bright gold Monarchs left after the storm, a fire storm which wiped away the rest of them, the moths.
They emerged, a cute cap, worn by a partner to that very same Scarlett warrior as she viewed by her short time at the lake, and a solemn, less familiar face. The other, the broken boy above, carefully, quietly making his way down from his perch above.
Wendy's lips curved to a mild smile as she observed her new arrivals, opening her mouth ready to speak, when a loud squawk reverberated through her, bouncing off the metal walls of these shipping containers which formed the borders of their camp. The blinking dot, the most familiar number on the GPS interface, was behind her. She turned around, no one there, but she looked up with squinting eyes and a minor scowl at the interruption. Sure enough she saw the big fat chicken hawk, filled to the brim with glee scouting from up above.
"Bunny." Wendy spoke, letting the sneer dissipate from her, back to hostess-like harmony.
"Good to see ya. Come. Sit down. Must be nice to have a place to stay, after your last home went up in smoke, am I right?"
A flip of a braid, a happy grin.
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
It was an oddly serene sight. Sure, the "campsite" was an odd location - Chuck couldn't imagine there was much demand for camping amidst shipping containers, though now that he thought about renovated shipping containers had been floated as a solution to poor housing demand in urban areas of the sort he hoped to at least try living in one day - but there was no sign, bar the weapons and scars, that they had been gathered here with orders to kill one another. No sign that the gunshots from earlier, or the tangled web of rivalries and vendettas the island had doubtless produced, had led to hotheadedness and impulsive violence.
It was a small mercy, a small victory for an optimistic and collaborative disposition of the sort Chuck still found himself irrepressibly tied to. Chuck was okay with this. It was a Stepford wives sort of idyll, rustic quality and omnipresent gloominess aside, but that was all he asked for. Just one last reminder that violence wasn't the only way out, before, he knew rationally, it became the only way out.
He decided to announce himself. "H-hello everyone." He swallowed. "I'm in no hurry to get to this." He knew he was inviting others, all of whom bar Maxwell bearing at least a single kill to their name, to surprise attack, but that didn't seem to be the modus operandi of anyone here. Certainly not Kris's - unless she was waiting, like a villainous Elan from Order of the Stick, for a moment of maximum dramatic impact before stabbing Chuck in the back. He was vaguely okay with that, in a sort of irrational 'worse ways my life could end right now' sort of way.
Not that there was any indication at all Kris had that sort of mindset. Which, probably, meant he was safe. He wasn't going to pretend that he could understand her current mindset or worldview. He could barely decipher his own.
It was a small mercy, a small victory for an optimistic and collaborative disposition of the sort Chuck still found himself irrepressibly tied to. Chuck was okay with this. It was a Stepford wives sort of idyll, rustic quality and omnipresent gloominess aside, but that was all he asked for. Just one last reminder that violence wasn't the only way out, before, he knew rationally, it became the only way out.
He decided to announce himself. "H-hello everyone." He swallowed. "I'm in no hurry to get to this." He knew he was inviting others, all of whom bar Maxwell bearing at least a single kill to their name, to surprise attack, but that didn't seem to be the modus operandi of anyone here. Certainly not Kris's - unless she was waiting, like a villainous Elan from Order of the Stick, for a moment of maximum dramatic impact before stabbing Chuck in the back. He was vaguely okay with that, in a sort of irrational 'worse ways my life could end right now' sort of way.
Not that there was any indication at all Kris had that sort of mindset. Which, probably, meant he was safe. He wasn't going to pretend that he could understand her current mindset or worldview. He could barely decipher his own.
There was another. One who announced their presence openly. They wanted the attention. There was a reason perhaps, but she was not privy to it. She knew who the person was. The predator with the prey's name. The two spoke. The tone clear, she observed silently. Waiting to see what the script called for. Her part unimportant for the moment. She was an observer, present but distant.
As she watched the boy stepped forward, still in the company of his ghost and spoke in greeting. After a delay, she stepped forward as well. The fireflies awakening again as they were brought closer to the fire. She did not quiet them again. Her eyes moved over every inch of the stage and everyone upon it.
She did not speak.
It wasn't important.
Instead, she watched the other two play their own personal game.
As she watched the boy stepped forward, still in the company of his ghost and spoke in greeting. After a delay, she stepped forward as well. The fireflies awakening again as they were brought closer to the fire. She did not quiet them again. Her eyes moved over every inch of the stage and everyone upon it.
She did not speak.
It wasn't important.
Instead, she watched the other two play their own personal game.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
Bunny’s smile grew wider. Artificially wider, of course, a smile that she had to bite the inside of her lip hard to maintain, but from this distance, all Wendy and the other lot needed to see was her gleaming pearly whites. And for a fake, deceitful slug like Wendy, a synthetic smile the only thing something like her understood.
“I do remember that, Wendygo!”
Bunny’s bubbling voice gently drifted over the crackling fire, as she swung her legs over the side of the container, sitting there for a few moments, lazily kicking her feet as everyone slowly emerged from the shadows, rats not quite leaving the sinking ship but definitely keeping their eyes peeled for leaks.
She let Wendy’s invitation to drop down and join them linger in the air before disappearing, a feelng of smug satisfaction welling up inside of her. She was perfectly content to do things at her own pace, thanks very much, and especially at a pace that wasn’t Wendy dictated. It gave her a chance to rest up a big, and it gave her a chance to observe the area around the campfire, to look for any nooks, crannies, hideaways and escape routes.
And, hey, y’know, if she was being totally honest, she was starting to feel real antsy about getting close to the fire, and Wendy’s words only made that feeling grow.
But that was a secret, and if you couldn’t keep a secret, then Bunny was gonna be super duper cross!
“That was super rude of you, by the way!” Bunny said, before she dropped to the ground, wincing as she landed heavily on her ankle, hiding her face behind her matted mess of hair for a few seconds before standing upright again.
“There I was, trying to have a nice little nap, when some rude little girl just comes up and, what was it… tries to shoot me and burn me alive? That’s not very nice, is it?”
Bunny strolled over to one of the makeshift seats around the fire, plopping herself down on it, making sure she always had sight of Wendy as she did so. She put her left elbow in her right hand, and tapped the corner of her mouth with her index finger, a look of wistful thought on her face.
“I imagine you justified that to yourself as well, right? You like to pretend, don’t you, Wendy? People with boring, pointless lives generally do. You’ve burned houses down and backstabbed and shot and murdered your way through all this, all with that silly little ditzy smile on your face, acting like you’re not just better than me but everyone else around you. So either you’re just as much of a moron as we all thought at school, or you’re just a psycho, and, well, it could be either, couldn’t it?”
Bunny gave Wendy a big, beaming smile, before glancing around at the rest of the congregation.
“How’s everyone else doing?”
“I do remember that, Wendygo!”
Bunny’s bubbling voice gently drifted over the crackling fire, as she swung her legs over the side of the container, sitting there for a few moments, lazily kicking her feet as everyone slowly emerged from the shadows, rats not quite leaving the sinking ship but definitely keeping their eyes peeled for leaks.
She let Wendy’s invitation to drop down and join them linger in the air before disappearing, a feelng of smug satisfaction welling up inside of her. She was perfectly content to do things at her own pace, thanks very much, and especially at a pace that wasn’t Wendy dictated. It gave her a chance to rest up a big, and it gave her a chance to observe the area around the campfire, to look for any nooks, crannies, hideaways and escape routes.
And, hey, y’know, if she was being totally honest, she was starting to feel real antsy about getting close to the fire, and Wendy’s words only made that feeling grow.
But that was a secret, and if you couldn’t keep a secret, then Bunny was gonna be super duper cross!
“That was super rude of you, by the way!” Bunny said, before she dropped to the ground, wincing as she landed heavily on her ankle, hiding her face behind her matted mess of hair for a few seconds before standing upright again.
“There I was, trying to have a nice little nap, when some rude little girl just comes up and, what was it… tries to shoot me and burn me alive? That’s not very nice, is it?”
Bunny strolled over to one of the makeshift seats around the fire, plopping herself down on it, making sure she always had sight of Wendy as she did so. She put her left elbow in her right hand, and tapped the corner of her mouth with her index finger, a look of wistful thought on her face.
“I imagine you justified that to yourself as well, right? You like to pretend, don’t you, Wendy? People with boring, pointless lives generally do. You’ve burned houses down and backstabbed and shot and murdered your way through all this, all with that silly little ditzy smile on your face, acting like you’re not just better than me but everyone else around you. So either you’re just as much of a moron as we all thought at school, or you’re just a psycho, and, well, it could be either, couldn’t it?”
Bunny gave Wendy a big, beaming smile, before glancing around at the rest of the congregation.
“How’s everyone else doing?”
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1255
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:15 pm
- Location: there is a man standing behind you
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
- Contact:
As it turned out, running away immediately would have been the best possible option.
Because everybody was here now. Not within Maxwell's line of sight — Wendy’s shipping container was blocking the way — but still close, seemingly beginning to talk to one another. He'd heard Chuck, he'd heard Wendy, he'd heard Bunny and he was pretty sure he had heard Kris — or the footsteps of a fourth person, at the very least — which meant that the final confrontation was happening, that the final burst of violence would erupt soon. Personally, he had hoped that he could avoid this through happy coincidence. The role he had set himself to uphold, the promises he had made to himself obligated him to play his part in how this all ended, but he couldn’t be blamed if he happened to be on the other side of the arena during the specific moment everyone else killed each other, right?
Sadly, it seemed as if fate actually wanted him to uphold his promises. Sadly, it seemed as if he would actually have to join the fray.
(oh, the humanity)
So he moved the trident, picked it up off the ground and left it loose in his hand. He placed his focus on the conversation between three of the other four, tried to listen in for an opportunity to welcome himself into the group.
It was do or die, by this point, but in Maxwell's mind there still seemed to be some room left for social grace.
...
“I’m doing fine,” he said, taking the initial step to put himself in view of Chuck and Kris — the girl who Daniel had been screaming at back when Maxwell had abandoned him — before taking several more to place himself close to them, in view of Wendy and Bunny.
“I figured, given the presence of all five of us, that I’d join the conversation.” He loosened his shoulders. Tried to make his posture as relaxed as possible, like one of many schoolyard conversations that seemed now like forever ago. “Ideally, try and make it into something more productive than the calm before we all kill each other.”
Because everybody was here now. Not within Maxwell's line of sight — Wendy’s shipping container was blocking the way — but still close, seemingly beginning to talk to one another. He'd heard Chuck, he'd heard Wendy, he'd heard Bunny and he was pretty sure he had heard Kris — or the footsteps of a fourth person, at the very least — which meant that the final confrontation was happening, that the final burst of violence would erupt soon. Personally, he had hoped that he could avoid this through happy coincidence. The role he had set himself to uphold, the promises he had made to himself obligated him to play his part in how this all ended, but he couldn’t be blamed if he happened to be on the other side of the arena during the specific moment everyone else killed each other, right?
Sadly, it seemed as if fate actually wanted him to uphold his promises. Sadly, it seemed as if he would actually have to join the fray.
(oh, the humanity)
So he moved the trident, picked it up off the ground and left it loose in his hand. He placed his focus on the conversation between three of the other four, tried to listen in for an opportunity to welcome himself into the group.
It was do or die, by this point, but in Maxwell's mind there still seemed to be some room left for social grace.
...
“I’m doing fine,” he said, taking the initial step to put himself in view of Chuck and Kris — the girl who Daniel had been screaming at back when Maxwell had abandoned him — before taking several more to place himself close to them, in view of Wendy and Bunny.
“I figured, given the presence of all five of us, that I’d join the conversation.” He loosened his shoulders. Tried to make his posture as relaxed as possible, like one of many schoolyard conversations that seemed now like forever ago. “Ideally, try and make it into something more productive than the calm before we all kill each other.”
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
People moved into view. Chuck gave Maxwell a cordial nod by way of greeting as he appeared - Chuck could be pretty sure that Maxwell was sane and moral, and that was a rare and valuable commodity these days - before looking around at the view around him. The final cast of this "game" was an odd and eclectic bunch, the idiosyncrasies and trademark mannerisms of school life now twisted into something darker and sinister.
Bunny, in particular, seemed to be...well. There was no point in wasting the mental energy trying to describe what Bunny had become. They could all see it. He murmured an "I'm good, thanks", in response to her open ended question, because that was both the polite and the safe thing to do, before he decided to address the group as a whole.
"I'm thinking..." And here Chuck paused. His instinct had been to precede the ultimate plan with some undesirable alternatives, or to go into the logical underpinnings of why he thought, all things considered, his way was the best way to get things going. He decided against that. "I'm thinking we can just...do what none of those terrorists are expecting, and just talk? Peace talks, you know? For a bit."
Bunny, in particular, seemed to be...well. There was no point in wasting the mental energy trying to describe what Bunny had become. They could all see it. He murmured an "I'm good, thanks", in response to her open ended question, because that was both the polite and the safe thing to do, before he decided to address the group as a whole.
"I'm thinking..." And here Chuck paused. His instinct had been to precede the ultimate plan with some undesirable alternatives, or to go into the logical underpinnings of why he thought, all things considered, his way was the best way to get things going. He decided against that. "I'm thinking we can just...do what none of those terrorists are expecting, and just talk? Peace talks, you know? For a bit."
"Ok!"
At first she had her head tilted, giving herself a small scratch to an invisible itch on her lower jaw. Not sure of what to make of this.
18, 19, 23, 02, 29. She had stopped stoking the bonfire and quickly scanned over their awkward half circle, both on the GPS and directly, studying each player expression as though this were a deadly game of poker. Then over to her fishy companion.
Chuck you beautiful, soul hat wearing soul. If Mr. Dolph could nod, he would.
"But maybe we should empty all our bullets into Bunny's face first - and then do that?"
Wendy looked back at Scarlett's charming little friend of big ideas, with squinted eyes and a dimpled glow upon lightly freckled cheeks. Everyone not named Bunny had to know this was the wise choice. Would be dumb, not to.
"Just to be safe."
At first she had her head tilted, giving herself a small scratch to an invisible itch on her lower jaw. Not sure of what to make of this.
18, 19, 23, 02, 29. She had stopped stoking the bonfire and quickly scanned over their awkward half circle, both on the GPS and directly, studying each player expression as though this were a deadly game of poker. Then over to her fishy companion.
Chuck you beautiful, soul hat wearing soul. If Mr. Dolph could nod, he would.
"But maybe we should empty all our bullets into Bunny's face first - and then do that?"
Wendy looked back at Scarlett's charming little friend of big ideas, with squinted eyes and a dimpled glow upon lightly freckled cheeks. Everyone not named Bunny had to know this was the wise choice. Would be dumb, not to.
"Just to be safe."
The practiced steps were all made. Just like there were back in the real world, sitting around a table in a school cafeteria that had seen many before them and would see many after. The only thing making anyone special being their belief that they were. And so they played out a classic game of school politics, as if it made a difference, as if it mattered. They were five of many.
The girls had their own personal stakes and reasons of course, but she wasn't going to pretend that they mattered. There was only one truth. They either didn't realise or were too scared to confront that. She had known this was the plan. The boy had spoken of it. Tried to get her to go along with it. It was flawed and there would be no respite. They were here to do one thing. They were compelled to do one thing. It was dishonest to pretend otherwise.
She stepped closer to the fire, but she didn't sit.
"It doesn't matter." She said in response to the first question.
She kept them all in her vision.
"Talk if you want."
There was only one way everything could end.
When the sun rose they would understand.
The girls had their own personal stakes and reasons of course, but she wasn't going to pretend that they mattered. There was only one truth. They either didn't realise or were too scared to confront that. She had known this was the plan. The boy had spoken of it. Tried to get her to go along with it. It was flawed and there would be no respite. They were here to do one thing. They were compelled to do one thing. It was dishonest to pretend otherwise.
She stepped closer to the fire, but she didn't sit.
"It doesn't matter." She said in response to the first question.
She kept them all in her vision.
"Talk if you want."
There was only one way everything could end.
When the sun rose they would understand.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
The maschinenpistole twitched in her hand.
Oh, it was so tempting. Oh it was so, so tempting, such an inviting idea to just point the gun at Wendy and wipe the dumb, stupid, ugly look off of her face. That was what they were supposed to be doing here, after all, shooting each other in the face, a fact the other three gormless idiots seemed to have forgotten about.
But she’d have to keep going, if she did that, take out all four of the others at once, and with everyone spread out like this, all in their little circle time group, she doubted she’d be able to gun down everybody before one of them tackled her or shot her or whatever. So she simply smiled, got herself settled and comfy on her chosen seat, and opened her mouth to respond to Wendy’s jibe.
Then Chuck suggested something, and the words died in Bunny’s mouth, turning to look at him as though he’d suddenly gained three extra heads and each of them was reciting slam poetry. He was… He was really suggesting that? Really? Really seriously? Really for real really seriously really? Did he understand where he was right now? The final five? The last step between here and freedom? Where all he had to do was outlast four other people and he was on a helicopter ride home? The very, very last place in the world where you should be advocating for the people around you to stop shooting each other?
Man. What a fucking moron.
And, of course, fakey Wendy was advocating for it, in the same breath as petitioning to kill Bunny. Nobody with a brain was falling for this little act – which meant that Bunny was the only one here who wasn’t fooled. God, this was all gonna go to hell so very quickly.
Hmmm. Maybe it’d be advantageous for her after all!
“… Okay,” Bunny said, unable to keep the laugh out of her voice. “I mean, like, sure! Go ahead! Go and, uh, have peace talks with the girl who just threatened to shoot me in the face if you want!”
She’d chosen this seat on purpose. Fairly big, nothing jutting out of it, pretty solid. Easy to slip off the back of it and duck into cover whenever things went haywire. Also decently comfy! Bonus!
“I won’t stop you! I’m just gonna sit here, looking pretty!”
Oh, it was so tempting. Oh it was so, so tempting, such an inviting idea to just point the gun at Wendy and wipe the dumb, stupid, ugly look off of her face. That was what they were supposed to be doing here, after all, shooting each other in the face, a fact the other three gormless idiots seemed to have forgotten about.
But she’d have to keep going, if she did that, take out all four of the others at once, and with everyone spread out like this, all in their little circle time group, she doubted she’d be able to gun down everybody before one of them tackled her or shot her or whatever. So she simply smiled, got herself settled and comfy on her chosen seat, and opened her mouth to respond to Wendy’s jibe.
Then Chuck suggested something, and the words died in Bunny’s mouth, turning to look at him as though he’d suddenly gained three extra heads and each of them was reciting slam poetry. He was… He was really suggesting that? Really? Really seriously? Really for real really seriously really? Did he understand where he was right now? The final five? The last step between here and freedom? Where all he had to do was outlast four other people and he was on a helicopter ride home? The very, very last place in the world where you should be advocating for the people around you to stop shooting each other?
Man. What a fucking moron.
And, of course, fakey Wendy was advocating for it, in the same breath as petitioning to kill Bunny. Nobody with a brain was falling for this little act – which meant that Bunny was the only one here who wasn’t fooled. God, this was all gonna go to hell so very quickly.
Hmmm. Maybe it’d be advantageous for her after all!
“… Okay,” Bunny said, unable to keep the laugh out of her voice. “I mean, like, sure! Go ahead! Go and, uh, have peace talks with the girl who just threatened to shoot me in the face if you want!”
She’d chosen this seat on purpose. Fairly big, nothing jutting out of it, pretty solid. Easy to slip off the back of it and duck into cover whenever things went haywire. Also decently comfy! Bonus!
“I won’t stop you! I’m just gonna sit here, looking pretty!”