((Luciano Ascencio continued from Just what is it that makes today's homes so different, so appealing?))
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The cold, damp air hung oppressively over the submarine's upper deck. Luciano shifted uncomfortably on the seat upon which he had chosen to rest, his eyes flickering every few seconds over to the hallway that contained the metallic hulk's only entrance. From the outside, the vehicle appeared to be a veritable fortress, its sturdy exterior holding an attractive place to rest for a while without having to deal with any wandering psychopaths. On the inside, however...
An acute feeling of vulnerability came over the boy as he leaned back in his chair, the sound of waves lapping against the side of his steel refuge. Perhaps it hadn't been the wisest idea to hole up in an enclosed area with only a single route of escape. Tactically speaking, if an attacker was determined enough... He winced as vivid imagery flashed through his mind, of tuna being scooped out from inside one of those tiny tins, the ones with the little pull tab on them...
The space cadet shook his head, bringing his thoughts back down to reality as his eyes snapped yet again to the hallway. What was done was done, and he had already accumulated way too many things to think about to add anxiety about the past's questionable decisions to the mix. What mattered now was the future, and if he didn't get a proper strategy in place that future was going to be much too short for his liking.
Luciano ran his hand over the handle of the oversized weapon leaning next to his chair, taking a deep breath as he took his eyes off the hallway, a feeling of iron determination clamping over his mind. He was going to go home. It was only fair. He had worked too hard to let it all come to waste for some stupid reality show. Tiny tendrils of guilt began to worm their way in as the full implications of this line of thinking began to become apparent, forcing himself to quickly shut himself down.
There was no room for emotions here, only logic. He only had to do enough to survive - no more, no less. If he managed to link up with some other team members (preferably ones that were a lot more useful than Amy), they'd definitely be able to defend themselves against any of the teenage psychopaths wandering the flotilla at this very moment. And if he had to kill anyone himself...
Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got there.
For the near future, however, his strategy was still up in the air. It would have been nice to be able to bounce some ideas off of Jewel, but, alas, their single conversation of the day had already been used up. He'd have to survive until tomorrow before he seek any sort of guidance from her, strategic or otherwise.
Old habits die hard, however, and trading the environment of the submarine for a dive into the realm of imagination had soon slipped the thought of watching the ladder from his mind.
Try Like the Devil
Day 2, after announcements
((Amy Barrows-Shaw swims up from dreams of drowning))
The Spy Who Loved me was the obvious choice. An American and a Russian submarine go missing out of nowhere, leading to a team-up between Bond and Russian spy, Agent XXX aka Anya Amasova. Little do they know, a genocidal shipping magnate is behind the plot.
That’s what Amy thought of as she looked at the hatch. Its open maw dared her to stick her head inside. Go on, Amy, you know you want to. I won’t snap shut on you and break your neck. And there’s nothing nasty waiting inside either.
What was the sense in going down there? It wasn’t like subs had second exits, and even if she didn’t know what her plan was yet, looking for people wasn’t on it.
That wasn't true though, was it? She was looking for RJ, not with any deliberateness but she wanted to find him. He was still alive, or at least the announcements hadn’t mentioned him. It was better than knowing he was dead for sure. She knew he probably didn’t want to see her, and she wasn’t sure it was smart to look for him, but she wanted to talk to him. Say something.
Maybe she just wanted to justify herself. Vindicate her attack on him. Or maybe she really did want to make amends. But she couldn’t do that if she didn’t find him, even if it was pointless in the end. Apologies wouldn't matter if they were both dead. Really, what else did she have to do?
So she decided to look inside the sub, because he might have been in there. Even if he wasn’t, and the odds were against her, she couldn’t deny there was a slight curiosity. She had seen a lot of subs in films. She was curious if this one lived up to it.
That was a stupid reason too, but again, what else did she have to do?
She looked at the gun, wrapped around her waist by the crudely cut tank top that had been in her daypack. It wasn’t particularly sturdy, and there was every risk the blade would just catch on it when she tried to pull it out, but for now it kept the gun in quick reach. It was safer than just leaving it in her day pack.
She kept looking at it. She knew she could use it if she had to. Or at least, she thought she did.
She didn’t like the idea, but she had seen too much by that point. She had seen a girl's face blown to bits, and another's guts splattered across the floor. Everything made it clear that this was for real. She wasn’t going to get away if she didn’t defend herself. And if that meant she had to kill people trying to kill her, well, she’d just do it. She didn’t want to die without a fight.
She chewed her lip as she repeated the rationale she’d been turning over for hours. She didn’t have a choice. It was kill or be killed. She wanted to live. Mandy had taught her that, even if she hadn’t intended to. Even if it was uncomfortable to think about, she had to do it. And she was ready to.
But the gun was only good for one shot, she had just about figured out. She had the ammo to refill it, but this firearm was a veritable antique. If she missed her shot, she’d probably have to rely on the blade. Not ideal, but better than Rober- better than the mannequin.
That was that. She would just have to take things as they came.
With a sharp inhale, she started her descent down into the dark depths of the sub.
The Spy Who Loved me was the obvious choice. An American and a Russian submarine go missing out of nowhere, leading to a team-up between Bond and Russian spy, Agent XXX aka Anya Amasova. Little do they know, a genocidal shipping magnate is behind the plot.
That’s what Amy thought of as she looked at the hatch. Its open maw dared her to stick her head inside. Go on, Amy, you know you want to. I won’t snap shut on you and break your neck. And there’s nothing nasty waiting inside either.
What was the sense in going down there? It wasn’t like subs had second exits, and even if she didn’t know what her plan was yet, looking for people wasn’t on it.
That wasn't true though, was it? She was looking for RJ, not with any deliberateness but she wanted to find him. He was still alive, or at least the announcements hadn’t mentioned him. It was better than knowing he was dead for sure. She knew he probably didn’t want to see her, and she wasn’t sure it was smart to look for him, but she wanted to talk to him. Say something.
Maybe she just wanted to justify herself. Vindicate her attack on him. Or maybe she really did want to make amends. But she couldn’t do that if she didn’t find him, even if it was pointless in the end. Apologies wouldn't matter if they were both dead. Really, what else did she have to do?
So she decided to look inside the sub, because he might have been in there. Even if he wasn’t, and the odds were against her, she couldn’t deny there was a slight curiosity. She had seen a lot of subs in films. She was curious if this one lived up to it.
That was a stupid reason too, but again, what else did she have to do?
She looked at the gun, wrapped around her waist by the crudely cut tank top that had been in her daypack. It wasn’t particularly sturdy, and there was every risk the blade would just catch on it when she tried to pull it out, but for now it kept the gun in quick reach. It was safer than just leaving it in her day pack.
She kept looking at it. She knew she could use it if she had to. Or at least, she thought she did.
She didn’t like the idea, but she had seen too much by that point. She had seen a girl's face blown to bits, and another's guts splattered across the floor. Everything made it clear that this was for real. She wasn’t going to get away if she didn’t defend herself. And if that meant she had to kill people trying to kill her, well, she’d just do it. She didn’t want to die without a fight.
She chewed her lip as she repeated the rationale she’d been turning over for hours. She didn’t have a choice. It was kill or be killed. She wanted to live. Mandy had taught her that, even if she hadn’t intended to. Even if it was uncomfortable to think about, she had to do it. And she was ready to.
But the gun was only good for one shot, she had just about figured out. She had the ammo to refill it, but this firearm was a veritable antique. If she missed her shot, she’d probably have to rely on the blade. Not ideal, but better than Rober- better than the mannequin.
That was that. She would just have to take things as they came.
With a sharp inhale, she started her descent down into the dark depths of the sub.
Luciano was abruptly snapped back to reality by the clanking sound that seemed to accompany all movement inside the metal hulk that was currently his refuge. He sat up straight in his chair, his eyes frantically scanning the area around him as his hand fumbled for the weapon that was leaning against his chair, his fingers touching nothing but air. A deep sinking feeling penetrated his chest as he moved his hand around, only to realize that the falx had fallen from position and was currently lying on his daypack.
Relief flooded his mind as he got up from his seat and picked it back up, the metal of the blade glinting in the dim light. It was interesting how one's emotions could change so fast, switching between feeling good and feeling bad in the blink of an eye. He had to be careful to keep himself from being controlled by something so unreliable. He had come to far to-
His train of thought came to an instant halt as he remembered the reason he had picked up the weapon in the first place. His head jerked up as he stepped gingerly to the door leading to the hallway, taking cover behind the wall. The intruder was almost certainly at the bottom by now. What was he going to do? There was no time to take the other by surprise, and he couldn't exactly rush through the door when his adversary might have a gun...
Luciano took a deep breath, forcing his paranoia down for a moment. He had to think this through logically. There was no reason to assume that there'd be a fight. After all, they could be on the same team, and even if they weren't, the odds of running into one of the few murderous psychopaths wandering the flotilla this early in the game were encouragingly small. In fact, the reality that violence was his first assumption of what would happen was...more than a little disturbing, though perhaps understandable given the circumstances.
Without looking out in the hallway, he shouted out the only request he could think to make, his voice echoing throughout the cramped quarters of the submersible.
"Who's there? What's your name and what team are you on?"
He had hoped that his voice sounded as confident as he intended it to be - in stressful situations like this, it was hard to judge, and with his heart pounding so hard in his chest the anxiety was impossible to swallow completely.
Relief flooded his mind as he got up from his seat and picked it back up, the metal of the blade glinting in the dim light. It was interesting how one's emotions could change so fast, switching between feeling good and feeling bad in the blink of an eye. He had to be careful to keep himself from being controlled by something so unreliable. He had come to far to-
His train of thought came to an instant halt as he remembered the reason he had picked up the weapon in the first place. His head jerked up as he stepped gingerly to the door leading to the hallway, taking cover behind the wall. The intruder was almost certainly at the bottom by now. What was he going to do? There was no time to take the other by surprise, and he couldn't exactly rush through the door when his adversary might have a gun...
Luciano took a deep breath, forcing his paranoia down for a moment. He had to think this through logically. There was no reason to assume that there'd be a fight. After all, they could be on the same team, and even if they weren't, the odds of running into one of the few murderous psychopaths wandering the flotilla this early in the game were encouragingly small. In fact, the reality that violence was his first assumption of what would happen was...more than a little disturbing, though perhaps understandable given the circumstances.
Without looking out in the hallway, he shouted out the only request he could think to make, his voice echoing throughout the cramped quarters of the submersible.
"Who's there? What's your name and what team are you on?"
He had hoped that his voice sounded as confident as he intended it to be - in stressful situations like this, it was hard to judge, and with his heart pounding so hard in his chest the anxiety was impossible to swallow completely.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Each footstep took her deeper into the belly of the beast. She climbed down slowly, carefully, unsteady on her feet as she was unused to climbing ladders. It was a precarious feeling.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
She was crawling down a metal tube, longer than she had expected. Going down the pipe to whatever waited for her inside the submarine. As if she was being flushed down a drain of dread. How unpleasant.
Clank. Clank. Clud.
Her foot made contact with solid ground. The bottom. She stepped off the ladder, looking around the room.
It was gloomy, but not dark. A series of skylights run along the roof of the corridor, providing illumination. A red line ran alongside them, while a green line ran opposite it along the floor. There for orientation, she guessed. She had seen something similar in The World is Not Enough, another submarine based climax. Maybe the green line glowed in the dark.
There were several doors leading off the narrow corridor. Some were open, some were closed. None of them were bulkheads though. That might’ve been at either end of the hallway, but she didn’t have time to check. A voice pierced through the surroundings she was taking in. It came from in front of her, to her left.
Immediately her hand went to her gun, and she pulled it loose. The tank top holster didn’t tear apart, thankfully, as she levelled the weapon at the door. Her face was as stoic as ever, but her heart increased in pace. She had to be ready to use this, she knew.
There was a silence that seemed to last forever, but she was the first to break it after she realised she recognised the voice.
“...Luciano? It’s Amy. From before.” she called out through the doorway, not moving from her spot. She didn’t lower the gun, either.
Each footstep took her deeper into the belly of the beast. She climbed down slowly, carefully, unsteady on her feet as she was unused to climbing ladders. It was a precarious feeling.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
She was crawling down a metal tube, longer than she had expected. Going down the pipe to whatever waited for her inside the submarine. As if she was being flushed down a drain of dread. How unpleasant.
Clank. Clank. Clud.
Her foot made contact with solid ground. The bottom. She stepped off the ladder, looking around the room.
It was gloomy, but not dark. A series of skylights run along the roof of the corridor, providing illumination. A red line ran alongside them, while a green line ran opposite it along the floor. There for orientation, she guessed. She had seen something similar in The World is Not Enough, another submarine based climax. Maybe the green line glowed in the dark.
There were several doors leading off the narrow corridor. Some were open, some were closed. None of them were bulkheads though. That might’ve been at either end of the hallway, but she didn’t have time to check. A voice pierced through the surroundings she was taking in. It came from in front of her, to her left.
Immediately her hand went to her gun, and she pulled it loose. The tank top holster didn’t tear apart, thankfully, as she levelled the weapon at the door. Her face was as stoic as ever, but her heart increased in pace. She had to be ready to use this, she knew.
There was a silence that seemed to last forever, but she was the first to break it after she realised she recognised the voice.
“...Luciano? It’s Amy. From before.” she called out through the doorway, not moving from her spot. She didn’t lower the gun, either.
Amy?
Luciano's memory flew to the previous day as he dug through the library of his mind for information. Her assigned weapon was a mannequin, right? Definitely a dud of an item, there, though, to be honest... it was fitting to be assigned to such a load of a teammate. He sighed as he relaxed his grip on the weapon, his head briefly turning up to face the ceiling as the tension he felt began to slowly unwind.
For a moment, the only sound in the cramped corridor was the omnipresent dripping that echoed throughout the submarine at all times, continually reminding its occupants over the fact that only a thick sheet of metal separated them from the treacherous depths surrounding their vessel. In a sense, it was comforting. The constant repetition of the sound created a sort of consistent thread from one second to the next, giving him something to focus on rather than letting his mind run wild with all the possible ways things could go horribly, horribly wrong.
Anyway, there wasn't really any point hanging back behind cover. His teammate seemed to have successfully ditched the boy that was with her, and a lone unarmed girl posed little threat, no matter the surrounding circumstances. He would have preferred to link up with literally any one of the other leviathans, though, of course, beggars couldn't be choosers. With all that in mind, Luciano casually stepped out from behind the door... and looked out straight into the barrel of a gun.
The space cadet's face turned pale as a flurry of questions began to storm there way through his mind. How did she get the gun? RJ was the one carrying it, not her. How did she get it? Did she...
He swallowed hard as he began to realize exactly how much he had underestimated her. He dropped the falx before slowly raising his hands, staring dead into the brown eyes of the girl who currently had him held as gunpoint. The next few words said had to be chosen carefully, lest he became this season's third team-kill. He nodded towards the bandana tied around his arm before speaking slowly and carefully, with more than a twinge of anxiety present in his voice.
"Hey...no need to point that thing around like that. We're on the same team, remember? I'm not gonna hurt you."
The wait for her response felt like an eternity as he stared forward, painfully aware that his continued existence hinged on the improbability of something going completely off the deep end this early into the game.
Luciano's memory flew to the previous day as he dug through the library of his mind for information. Her assigned weapon was a mannequin, right? Definitely a dud of an item, there, though, to be honest... it was fitting to be assigned to such a load of a teammate. He sighed as he relaxed his grip on the weapon, his head briefly turning up to face the ceiling as the tension he felt began to slowly unwind.
For a moment, the only sound in the cramped corridor was the omnipresent dripping that echoed throughout the submarine at all times, continually reminding its occupants over the fact that only a thick sheet of metal separated them from the treacherous depths surrounding their vessel. In a sense, it was comforting. The constant repetition of the sound created a sort of consistent thread from one second to the next, giving him something to focus on rather than letting his mind run wild with all the possible ways things could go horribly, horribly wrong.
Anyway, there wasn't really any point hanging back behind cover. His teammate seemed to have successfully ditched the boy that was with her, and a lone unarmed girl posed little threat, no matter the surrounding circumstances. He would have preferred to link up with literally any one of the other leviathans, though, of course, beggars couldn't be choosers. With all that in mind, Luciano casually stepped out from behind the door... and looked out straight into the barrel of a gun.
The space cadet's face turned pale as a flurry of questions began to storm there way through his mind. How did she get the gun? RJ was the one carrying it, not her. How did she get it? Did she...
He swallowed hard as he began to realize exactly how much he had underestimated her. He dropped the falx before slowly raising his hands, staring dead into the brown eyes of the girl who currently had him held as gunpoint. The next few words said had to be chosen carefully, lest he became this season's third team-kill. He nodded towards the bandana tied around his arm before speaking slowly and carefully, with more than a twinge of anxiety present in his voice.
"Hey...no need to point that thing around like that. We're on the same team, remember? I'm not gonna hurt you."
The wait for her response felt like an eternity as he stared forward, painfully aware that his continued existence hinged on the improbability of something going completely off the deep end this early into the game.
Amy didn’t respond, nor did she budge. She continued to stare Luciano down the barrel of her gun, thinking back to the day before.
He had used her aspirin for a headache. Jewel said that she should trust him. She hadn’t believed Jewel then, and her opinion hadn’t changed now. It wasn’t that Luciano came off as threatening, but she didn’t trust him. Why should she?
They were on the same team though, as his bandanna reminded her. Black, the same as the one tied around their own arm. They mirrored each other. And he hadn’t tried to stab her, or attack them when they’d been travelling before. That should build a little credibility, right?
You would think so, but that didn’t matter. This wasn’t the Trust-game, this was SOTF-TV. Kill or be killed, as Seo had made very clear. Last prize went to people who let their guard down. A really horrible, terrifying thought, but reality.
There was more to it than that though, another nasty thought that had occured as she eyed Luciano up and down. He was nervous, and that was as plain as the sound of dripping water from some unknown spot. You would think they would plug a leak in a submarine as a matter of urgency. It was actually a bit annoying.
This situation between them wasn’t annoying though: it was novel. Now she wasn’t the one carrying around a useless mannequin. She wasn’t the one who had to try really hard to avoid saying anything to look stupid, or to paint a target on her back. She had the gun. She could kill Luciano, if she felt like it.
It was alien, but it felt better than cowering in fear.
“Give me the sword. Kick it over.” she finally replied, after what might as well have been an eternity between them.
He had used her aspirin for a headache. Jewel said that she should trust him. She hadn’t believed Jewel then, and her opinion hadn’t changed now. It wasn’t that Luciano came off as threatening, but she didn’t trust him. Why should she?
They were on the same team though, as his bandanna reminded her. Black, the same as the one tied around their own arm. They mirrored each other. And he hadn’t tried to stab her, or attack them when they’d been travelling before. That should build a little credibility, right?
You would think so, but that didn’t matter. This wasn’t the Trust-game, this was SOTF-TV. Kill or be killed, as Seo had made very clear. Last prize went to people who let their guard down. A really horrible, terrifying thought, but reality.
There was more to it than that though, another nasty thought that had occured as she eyed Luciano up and down. He was nervous, and that was as plain as the sound of dripping water from some unknown spot. You would think they would plug a leak in a submarine as a matter of urgency. It was actually a bit annoying.
This situation between them wasn’t annoying though: it was novel. Now she wasn’t the one carrying around a useless mannequin. She wasn’t the one who had to try really hard to avoid saying anything to look stupid, or to paint a target on her back. She had the gun. She could kill Luciano, if she felt like it.
It was alien, but it felt better than cowering in fear.
“Give me the sword. Kick it over.” she finally replied, after what might as well have been an eternity between them.
What? WHAT?
Did she hit her head on the way over here or something? Why the hell would she be going around disarming people on her own team? It wasn't like she didn't have a weapon either - this was just screwing both of them over for no reason. Luciano could feel his vision begin to blur as the depths of his teammate's stupid shortsightedness became more and more obvious. He wanted to scream, the frustration boiling inside of him as he stared at the girl standing on the other end of the hallway.
Of course, he couldn't. She was the one with the gun here, and regardless of who was in the right, antagonizing her would only make things worse. He took a deep breath as he stared forward, trying to gather his nerves as his muscles began to ache from having kept his arms up for so long. He spoke slowly and softly, as if talking to a child, trying his best to hold back the vast reserves of contempt that he held for his conversation partner at that moment.
"Alright, alright, can we talk this over first? I don't know what's happened to you since the last time we met, and I, uh, I don't know what you had to do to get that gun, but do you really think it's a good idea to be going around disarming the only people here who don't have reason to kill you?"
Luciano could have gone on, but something told him that going into detail would only be wasted on this girl. Either she had enough sense to comprehend the foolishness of what she was doing, or... Maybe he could get back and duck around the door before she could shoot, and try to jump her if she got close, but the odds of that succeeding were much lower than he would have liked.
He sighed. Was this really how things were going to be? It's not like he had high hopes for the rest of his classmates' intelligence, given past experience, but this was a new low. Jewel was right about Amy being not worth the effort to work with, but if this was going to be typical then it didn't seem like anyone here would be worth it. What was the point of having teams anyway if nobody gave a shit about them? The thought of an imbecile like Amy making it out due to his efforts seemed more and more unfair with every passing second. If he made it out of this alive he'd definitely need to have a long chat with Jewel about whether or not there was anyone else on her team that wouldn't be the human equivalent of a ball and chain around his neck.
Unfortunately, the key word holding that last thought together was "if", which killed any sort of satisfaction that the planning would have otherwise brought him. Just another example of the cruel unfairness of life, perhaps.
Did she hit her head on the way over here or something? Why the hell would she be going around disarming people on her own team? It wasn't like she didn't have a weapon either - this was just screwing both of them over for no reason. Luciano could feel his vision begin to blur as the depths of his teammate's stupid shortsightedness became more and more obvious. He wanted to scream, the frustration boiling inside of him as he stared at the girl standing on the other end of the hallway.
Of course, he couldn't. She was the one with the gun here, and regardless of who was in the right, antagonizing her would only make things worse. He took a deep breath as he stared forward, trying to gather his nerves as his muscles began to ache from having kept his arms up for so long. He spoke slowly and softly, as if talking to a child, trying his best to hold back the vast reserves of contempt that he held for his conversation partner at that moment.
"Alright, alright, can we talk this over first? I don't know what's happened to you since the last time we met, and I, uh, I don't know what you had to do to get that gun, but do you really think it's a good idea to be going around disarming the only people here who don't have reason to kill you?"
Luciano could have gone on, but something told him that going into detail would only be wasted on this girl. Either she had enough sense to comprehend the foolishness of what she was doing, or... Maybe he could get back and duck around the door before she could shoot, and try to jump her if she got close, but the odds of that succeeding were much lower than he would have liked.
He sighed. Was this really how things were going to be? It's not like he had high hopes for the rest of his classmates' intelligence, given past experience, but this was a new low. Jewel was right about Amy being not worth the effort to work with, but if this was going to be typical then it didn't seem like anyone here would be worth it. What was the point of having teams anyway if nobody gave a shit about them? The thought of an imbecile like Amy making it out due to his efforts seemed more and more unfair with every passing second. If he made it out of this alive he'd definitely need to have a long chat with Jewel about whether or not there was anyone else on her team that wouldn't be the human equivalent of a ball and chain around his neck.
Unfortunately, the key word holding that last thought together was "if", which killed any sort of satisfaction that the planning would have otherwise brought him. Just another example of the cruel unfairness of life, perhaps.
“Shut up.” Amy replied sharply to Luciano’s plea. It had been so long since she’d told anyone to shut up. Usually she just clamped her own mouth shut.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard what Luciano was saying, and it probably made sense. But she didn’t want it to make sense, especially not in the tone he was taking. She was finally asserting herself. She was finally not on the receiving end of fearing for her life. She didn’t want Luciano to make sense. She didn't want him to talk down at her. She wanted him to shut up and disarm himself.
“Just kick the sword over. And don’t sigh at me.”
Her arm was starting to strain, because the gun was heavier than she realised. But she didn’t let it show. Not on her face, not on her aim, and not in her conviction.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard what Luciano was saying, and it probably made sense. But she didn’t want it to make sense, especially not in the tone he was taking. She was finally asserting herself. She was finally not on the receiving end of fearing for her life. She didn’t want Luciano to make sense. She didn't want him to talk down at her. She wanted him to shut up and disarm himself.
“Just kick the sword over. And don’t sigh at me.”
Her arm was starting to strain, because the gun was heavier than she realised. But she didn’t let it show. Not on her face, not on her aim, and not in her conviction.
Luciano struggled to maintain a neutral facial expression as his frustration approached its boiling point. What was wrong with this girl? Did she have a death wish or something? Those questions, while of burning interest, didn't look like they would be answered any time soon. The entire situation was a mystery, and not a fun one like in a puzzle book or a children's cartoon, but the kind of mystery that has no good solution, doomed to be forever unsatisfying regardless of whether it was eventually unravelled.
He wanted to sigh again, but his more important desire to, well, not get shot had overridden that natural instinct. The discomfort in his raised arms was mounting as his eyes uselessly darted to the left and to the right, as if there was anything to see besides the plain metal walls of the sub. The space cadet pursed his lips and swallowed as it became painfully clear that as far as this situation went, talking would be of no further use.
And with that, he reached back with his foot and kicked the large blade forward, hoping that it had made its way close enough for her satisfaction. With that, he turned to look ahead, his face twitching slightly as he desperately tried to force a calm and somewhat bored expression onto his face instead of one reflecting the current storm of fear and anger building up inside of him with every passing moment.
His one salvation lay in the fact that picking up the two handed blade would perhaps be more unwieldy than Amy thought, allowing him the opportunity to rush her while her hands were too occupied to shoot. Still, even that was a long shot at best, and relying on predicting the movements of a girl whose actions didn't seem to be motivated by reason was not at all an encouraging thought. Even if he did manage to pull it off, what then? Was he supposed to just... kill her? Would it even be possible to do that? Even ignoring all the immediate obstacles, Jewel would definitely -
Wait. That was it, another option he could try. His odds still weren't great, even without counting the ever-present possibility that refusing to shut up as demanded would result in his imminent demise, but perhaps appealing to naked self interest would have a better result than explaining strategy. He opened his mouth to speak, and prayed silently to whatever deity who may or may not have been watching that he wouldn't have to resort to Plan B, or worse yet, be met with an immediate bullet to the face from making the very risky decision of disobeying the clear order given to him to stop talking.
"You remember what Jewel said in the briefing though, right? About betraying teammates? I can't stop you from taking whatever you want, but getting on your mentor's bad side seems like a pretty dangerous plan if you ask me." He paused for a moment, though whether it was to catch his breath or a brief capitulation to an ill-advised sense of dramatic timing, not even he could say. "Still, it's your choice though, I guess."
Perhaps his persuasion techniques would be more effective if his speech didn't sound so condescending, but it really wasn't his fault that he was just smarter than some people. As callous as it was to say, his combination of drive and natural talent was too valuable to be squandered by dying here. He'd love to have the rest of his team get out with him, of course, but evidently not all of them seemed to be interested in that.
What a waste.
He wanted to sigh again, but his more important desire to, well, not get shot had overridden that natural instinct. The discomfort in his raised arms was mounting as his eyes uselessly darted to the left and to the right, as if there was anything to see besides the plain metal walls of the sub. The space cadet pursed his lips and swallowed as it became painfully clear that as far as this situation went, talking would be of no further use.
And with that, he reached back with his foot and kicked the large blade forward, hoping that it had made its way close enough for her satisfaction. With that, he turned to look ahead, his face twitching slightly as he desperately tried to force a calm and somewhat bored expression onto his face instead of one reflecting the current storm of fear and anger building up inside of him with every passing moment.
His one salvation lay in the fact that picking up the two handed blade would perhaps be more unwieldy than Amy thought, allowing him the opportunity to rush her while her hands were too occupied to shoot. Still, even that was a long shot at best, and relying on predicting the movements of a girl whose actions didn't seem to be motivated by reason was not at all an encouraging thought. Even if he did manage to pull it off, what then? Was he supposed to just... kill her? Would it even be possible to do that? Even ignoring all the immediate obstacles, Jewel would definitely -
Wait. That was it, another option he could try. His odds still weren't great, even without counting the ever-present possibility that refusing to shut up as demanded would result in his imminent demise, but perhaps appealing to naked self interest would have a better result than explaining strategy. He opened his mouth to speak, and prayed silently to whatever deity who may or may not have been watching that he wouldn't have to resort to Plan B, or worse yet, be met with an immediate bullet to the face from making the very risky decision of disobeying the clear order given to him to stop talking.
"You remember what Jewel said in the briefing though, right? About betraying teammates? I can't stop you from taking whatever you want, but getting on your mentor's bad side seems like a pretty dangerous plan if you ask me." He paused for a moment, though whether it was to catch his breath or a brief capitulation to an ill-advised sense of dramatic timing, not even he could say. "Still, it's your choice though, I guess."
Perhaps his persuasion techniques would be more effective if his speech didn't sound so condescending, but it really wasn't his fault that he was just smarter than some people. As callous as it was to say, his combination of drive and natural talent was too valuable to be squandered by dying here. He'd love to have the rest of his team get out with him, of course, but evidently not all of them seemed to be interested in that.
What a waste.
Amy might’ve seen the continued sense in what Luciano was saying, but his tone ruined any chance of that. It didn’t matter how logical you were when you were just asking for a punch in the face with every smug-coated word. It certainly didn’t matter to Amy, not when she had the gun.
Truthfully, she didn’t remember what Jewel had said. It had been such a long time, even if it had only been a few hours. She wasn’t even really aware of what was going on when they were cast, because the whole thing had trapped her in a daze. How were you supposed to keep sharp when you’d just been told that you were competing on SOTF-TV?
But she wasn’t afraid of some Jewel repercussion, she didn’t think. She hadn’t really thought about it before; Jewel was just some distant narrator, right? There to provide commentary, and some advice, but surely not allowed to interfere? Jewel wouldn’t try to punish her for not trusting her teammates off the bat, she was sure. It didn’t make sense to trust them for no reason. She had no reason to trust Luciano.
She didn’t make a move towards the sword, because she was focused purely on her teammate. Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure if she still wanted it. She might have wanted it before, because it was a threat to her, but now all she really wanted was to take it. She wanted to control the situation, because everything had been out of control up to now. It wasn’t working. Luciano was still running his mouth at her, when she just wanted him to acknowledge that she was in charge. Her nose wrinkled at the thought.
“Why aren’t you shutting up?” she asked, collected but confused. She understood that some people ran their mouths when they were in a bad situation, she’d seen the fast-talking comic reliefs in movies, but that was just movies. Didn’t Luciano realise what position he was in? Didn’t he realise that she had the upper hand? Did he think her could just talk her down if he acted condescending enough?
“I have a gun. I could kill you. Aren’t you scared?”
Truthfully, she didn’t remember what Jewel had said. It had been such a long time, even if it had only been a few hours. She wasn’t even really aware of what was going on when they were cast, because the whole thing had trapped her in a daze. How were you supposed to keep sharp when you’d just been told that you were competing on SOTF-TV?
But she wasn’t afraid of some Jewel repercussion, she didn’t think. She hadn’t really thought about it before; Jewel was just some distant narrator, right? There to provide commentary, and some advice, but surely not allowed to interfere? Jewel wouldn’t try to punish her for not trusting her teammates off the bat, she was sure. It didn’t make sense to trust them for no reason. She had no reason to trust Luciano.
She didn’t make a move towards the sword, because she was focused purely on her teammate. Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure if she still wanted it. She might have wanted it before, because it was a threat to her, but now all she really wanted was to take it. She wanted to control the situation, because everything had been out of control up to now. It wasn’t working. Luciano was still running his mouth at her, when she just wanted him to acknowledge that she was in charge. Her nose wrinkled at the thought.
“Why aren’t you shutting up?” she asked, collected but confused. She understood that some people ran their mouths when they were in a bad situation, she’d seen the fast-talking comic reliefs in movies, but that was just movies. Didn’t Luciano realise what position he was in? Didn’t he realise that she had the upper hand? Did he think her could just talk her down if he acted condescending enough?
“I have a gun. I could kill you. Aren’t you scared?”
Well, to be perfectly honest, that was a very good question. Every second of continued survival while pursuing this strategy was a miracle, and if he was a character in a film this would surely be one of those moments where someone in the audience would start pointlessly yelling at the screen for him to keep his mouth shut.
Luciano swallowed as he stared forward yet again, a bead of sweat running down the side of his head, the stagnant air of the sub's interior hanging oppressively over the scene. It was completely obvious that this wasn't going to work. Not every conflict was possible to just talk one's way out of, and, to put things bluntly, he wasn't exactly the smoothest operator around.
He pursed his lips nervously for a moment before giving a shrug, or at least the closest thing to a shrug that he could make with his hands still in the air. The time for talking was clearly over, but the least that he could do would be to get a few last words in.
"Well, if you take my weapon and leave me unarmed and defenceless, I'm almost certainly going to end up dead. I figured it that if my choices were to maybe die now or certainly die later, I might as well have taken my chances here."
For a moment, the hallway was silent, apart from the ever present dripping of water, continually emanating from some unknown part of the vehicle. Realizing that he hadn't actually given any indication that he was done talking, he added a short sentence, speaking quickly to make sure it got out before things got more aggressive than they needed to.
"I'm done, I'll stop talking now if you want."
Luciano swallowed as he stared forward yet again, a bead of sweat running down the side of his head, the stagnant air of the sub's interior hanging oppressively over the scene. It was completely obvious that this wasn't going to work. Not every conflict was possible to just talk one's way out of, and, to put things bluntly, he wasn't exactly the smoothest operator around.
He pursed his lips nervously for a moment before giving a shrug, or at least the closest thing to a shrug that he could make with his hands still in the air. The time for talking was clearly over, but the least that he could do would be to get a few last words in.
"Well, if you take my weapon and leave me unarmed and defenceless, I'm almost certainly going to end up dead. I figured it that if my choices were to maybe die now or certainly die later, I might as well have taken my chances here."
For a moment, the hallway was silent, apart from the ever present dripping of water, continually emanating from some unknown part of the vehicle. Realizing that he hadn't actually given any indication that he was done talking, he added a short sentence, speaking quickly to make sure it got out before things got more aggressive than they needed to.
"I'm done, I'll stop talking now if you want."
Amy stared Luciano down a second longer. Then, finally, she lowered her gun.
“I wanted you to stop when I first said to.” she said curtly, still keeping both eyes square on him. The sword still sat between them, about an arms length from her if she crouched over. Both valuable and worthless at the same time. She wanted it, because she wanted a tool, but she didn’t need it. She had disarmed Luciano, and that was enough.
“I didn’t have a weapon at the start.” she started, stiff but uncompromising. “I just had Ro-” she caught herself, feeling the eking of that nervous twinge as she realised what she was about to say. Naming her weapon was so ridiculous, so embarrassing, and he didn’t need to know she’d done it. But she remembered where she was, and what she had. She stayed cool.
“I just had the mannequin. I got by without a weapon. You shouldn’t give up so easily.”
She was surprised by her own words, but she didn’t regret them. Maybe she had developed some kind of spite in such a short time towards people with the better luck of the draw. Or maybe she wanted to put Luciano in his place, like this whole exercise had been about. Maybe she just wanted to feel like the bigger woman for once.
She put the gun back in her tank-top holster, because she didn’t think she needed it. Not right now, not when she felt emboldened. And she was still closer to the sword than Luciano. If he tried anything, she could pull out the gun and shoot him, or she could grab the sword and cut him. She would do it, too.
Was that a bad move though, disarming herself? It didn’t matter; it was away now. She wasn’t about to pull it out again and look scared. She was in control.
She continued staring him down, as the drip, drip, drip continued filling up the crackling silence.
...then the crackling fizzled out, and the tense pause turned awkward. Suddenly the onus was her, as the person in control, to break it.
“You should watch out for Seo-yun. She’s crazy.”
Small talk was difficult.
“I wanted you to stop when I first said to.” she said curtly, still keeping both eyes square on him. The sword still sat between them, about an arms length from her if she crouched over. Both valuable and worthless at the same time. She wanted it, because she wanted a tool, but she didn’t need it. She had disarmed Luciano, and that was enough.
“I didn’t have a weapon at the start.” she started, stiff but uncompromising. “I just had Ro-” she caught herself, feeling the eking of that nervous twinge as she realised what she was about to say. Naming her weapon was so ridiculous, so embarrassing, and he didn’t need to know she’d done it. But she remembered where she was, and what she had. She stayed cool.
“I just had the mannequin. I got by without a weapon. You shouldn’t give up so easily.”
She was surprised by her own words, but she didn’t regret them. Maybe she had developed some kind of spite in such a short time towards people with the better luck of the draw. Or maybe she wanted to put Luciano in his place, like this whole exercise had been about. Maybe she just wanted to feel like the bigger woman for once.
She put the gun back in her tank-top holster, because she didn’t think she needed it. Not right now, not when she felt emboldened. And she was still closer to the sword than Luciano. If he tried anything, she could pull out the gun and shoot him, or she could grab the sword and cut him. She would do it, too.
Was that a bad move though, disarming herself? It didn’t matter; it was away now. She wasn’t about to pull it out again and look scared. She was in control.
She continued staring him down, as the drip, drip, drip continued filling up the crackling silence.
...then the crackling fizzled out, and the tense pause turned awkward. Suddenly the onus was her, as the person in control, to break it.
“You should watch out for Seo-yun. She’s crazy.”
Small talk was difficult.
Luciano lowered his hands, tension quickly evaporating from his body. He just stood there for a moment, wavering unsteadily on his overworked muscles as he stared at the girl in front of him, and in particular, the holster where she had just put the gun that could very well have ended his life moments ago. A hand shot out to cold metal wall, allowing him to lean on it temporarily for support as he assessed the situation.
What the hell was wrong with her? Not that he was complaining that the weapon was gone now, but why did she have to put him through this in the first place? Was this all some sort of bizarre game to her or something? She had asked him not to give up so easily, and if she was still trying to take his weapon, she'd find out he had no plans of giving up any time soon.
It took all of his willpower to avoid rushing her, but after trying so hard to deescalate the situation, escalating it again didn't seem like a very appealing idea. He didn't want to be stuck with her any longer than he had to, but for now it looked like he had no choice other than to hear her out. He spoke cautiously, asking about the girl whose name had been included in that morning's announcements.
"Crazy? What do you mean?"
Given the obviously unstable mental situation of his conversation partner, Luciano could tell whatever story he was about to hear was going to be a wild ride.
What the hell was wrong with her? Not that he was complaining that the weapon was gone now, but why did she have to put him through this in the first place? Was this all some sort of bizarre game to her or something? She had asked him not to give up so easily, and if she was still trying to take his weapon, she'd find out he had no plans of giving up any time soon.
It took all of his willpower to avoid rushing her, but after trying so hard to deescalate the situation, escalating it again didn't seem like a very appealing idea. He didn't want to be stuck with her any longer than he had to, but for now it looked like he had no choice other than to hear her out. He spoke cautiously, asking about the girl whose name had been included in that morning's announcements.
"Crazy? What do you mean?"
Given the obviously unstable mental situation of his conversation partner, Luciano could tell whatever story he was about to hear was going to be a wild ride.
“Crazy as in she tried to shoot me, and she shot two other people without hesitating.”
There was nothing wild about the story. If they were in some universe where SOTF was considered a horrible act of terrorism rather than a national pastime, such a story would probably have sounded wild. But they were in SOTF-TV, and this was the matter-of-fact truth. Some of their classmates had decided to start killing, for personal reasons, and Seo was one of them.
“If she sees you, she’ll probably try to kill you. She killed one of our team mates already.” she continued, thinking back to the body from earlier. She wished that she knew the classmate's name, because it hurt to just think of her as a dead teammate who had died for her, but there was nothing she could do. The announcements hadn't even mentioned the kills at that point, for some reason.
She looked back at Luciano, and down at the sword that was still between them. She thought about what he had said a moment ago, how he’d probably die without it. She didn’t like that he was relying on a weapon to stay alive, because she hadn’t had that luxury, but he wasn’t wrong. Seo had a shotgun, and her accomplice was with her too. She hadn’t seen the other gun at the scene, the one the girl who had saved her was using, so both Seo and her partner were probably packing heat at that point.
She knew the sword probably wouldn’t help Luciano against those kinds of odds, but realistically, it wouldn’t help Amy much either. She couldn’t swing the sword and aim the gun at the same time, and she thought the gun was a lot more effective, even if it was only a single shot. It still had a blade, and she only needed to shoot someone with one bullet to kill them. It was enough to keep her safe.
She could have taken it anyway, just to embarrass Luciano, but she would be hurting his own survival chances. She wouldn’t be paying her team mate's sacrifice forward. She didn’t trust him, and she didn’t really like him that much after this conversation, but she wasn’t going to make it harder for him to stay alive. She only had her imagination to tell her what the motivations had been for her peer to save her, but she had decided that it was done out of nobility. She wanted to follow the example.
“You can keep the sword. You’re right: you’ll need it.” she finally decided, kicking it by the hilt back in his direction. It didn’t move much, so she took a step back herself to further distance herself from it.
She almost apologised for holding him up in the first place, but she didn’t. She felt awkward, changing her mind after going through it all, but she had had her reasons for doing it. She wasn’t about to show weakness to Luciano. She would show mercy, because she didn’t want him to die because of her actions, but that was it.
Regardless, her hand rested on the pistol as the sword waited patiently, just in case.
There was nothing wild about the story. If they were in some universe where SOTF was considered a horrible act of terrorism rather than a national pastime, such a story would probably have sounded wild. But they were in SOTF-TV, and this was the matter-of-fact truth. Some of their classmates had decided to start killing, for personal reasons, and Seo was one of them.
“If she sees you, she’ll probably try to kill you. She killed one of our team mates already.” she continued, thinking back to the body from earlier. She wished that she knew the classmate's name, because it hurt to just think of her as a dead teammate who had died for her, but there was nothing she could do. The announcements hadn't even mentioned the kills at that point, for some reason.
She looked back at Luciano, and down at the sword that was still between them. She thought about what he had said a moment ago, how he’d probably die without it. She didn’t like that he was relying on a weapon to stay alive, because she hadn’t had that luxury, but he wasn’t wrong. Seo had a shotgun, and her accomplice was with her too. She hadn’t seen the other gun at the scene, the one the girl who had saved her was using, so both Seo and her partner were probably packing heat at that point.
She knew the sword probably wouldn’t help Luciano against those kinds of odds, but realistically, it wouldn’t help Amy much either. She couldn’t swing the sword and aim the gun at the same time, and she thought the gun was a lot more effective, even if it was only a single shot. It still had a blade, and she only needed to shoot someone with one bullet to kill them. It was enough to keep her safe.
She could have taken it anyway, just to embarrass Luciano, but she would be hurting his own survival chances. She wouldn’t be paying her team mate's sacrifice forward. She didn’t trust him, and she didn’t really like him that much after this conversation, but she wasn’t going to make it harder for him to stay alive. She only had her imagination to tell her what the motivations had been for her peer to save her, but she had decided that it was done out of nobility. She wanted to follow the example.
“You can keep the sword. You’re right: you’ll need it.” she finally decided, kicking it by the hilt back in his direction. It didn’t move much, so she took a step back herself to further distance herself from it.
She almost apologised for holding him up in the first place, but she didn’t. She felt awkward, changing her mind after going through it all, but she had had her reasons for doing it. She wasn’t about to show weakness to Luciano. She would show mercy, because she didn’t want him to die because of her actions, but that was it.
Regardless, her hand rested on the pistol as the sword waited patiently, just in case.
Luciano's face remained blank as he attempted to process this new information. The news wasn't a total shock, given that he had heard Seo-yun's name on the announcements the previous day, but the learning that she had scored two more kills had upgraded her from "potential threat" to "must avoid at all costs". Amy wasn't exactly the most reliable narrator at the moment but nobody ever died from being too cautious.
The two of them stood across from each other for a moment, staring awkwardly as the ever-present dripping of water echoed across the silence. The conflict had ended, for now, but it was rather clear to him that neither of them trusted the other to not start it back up again. A perfectly fair stance, given the circumstances, but something of an inconvenient one. The boy decided to break the silence, his voice sounding more than a little nervous.
"Alright, I see. Thanks for the warning."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"I...I'm going to go pick up the sword now."
And with that, he walked slowly towards the weapon on the ground in front of him, his chest pounding as he knelt down, hoping that his teammate hadn't had a change of heart. If he managed to pick it up without getting shot, his next course of action would be to back up as far from the girl as possible, hoping that she would take it as her cue to leave.
The two of them stood across from each other for a moment, staring awkwardly as the ever-present dripping of water echoed across the silence. The conflict had ended, for now, but it was rather clear to him that neither of them trusted the other to not start it back up again. A perfectly fair stance, given the circumstances, but something of an inconvenient one. The boy decided to break the silence, his voice sounding more than a little nervous.
"Alright, I see. Thanks for the warning."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"I...I'm going to go pick up the sword now."
And with that, he walked slowly towards the weapon on the ground in front of him, his chest pounding as he knelt down, hoping that his teammate hadn't had a change of heart. If he managed to pick it up without getting shot, his next course of action would be to back up as far from the girl as possible, hoping that she would take it as her cue to leave.