“Tiffany”, Tiffany… Dexter, was it? That was a name Vincent was at least somewhat familiar with, though he wouldn’t have been able to put a face with it until she shone the light under her chin; mostly he just knew about her from the way people complained about her. Wasn’t she on the school council, or the school paper? The school something or other anyway. “I’m Vincent”
At least he got stuck with somebody smart; they seemed rare here, somebody smart from Detroit even more so. At least he didn’t have to put up with a dumbass like Jonas or that idiot with the Walkie-Talkies; well, not yet at least, the show still had three opportunities to screw him over in that respect.
He stepped back and sat down on the edge of a piece of furniture – he couldn’t tell what type with so little light but it didn’t matter – and let out a sigh. It had been a long day so far and with the sun beginning to peek over the horizon it looked like it wasn’t going to end just yet.
“Need a rest?”
Vincent followed her gesture towards the door to the back room where she had presumably been hiding before he showed up. It was tempting – though he would much rather have taken a bed back at the cruise ship, beggars couldn’t be choosers – but there were more important things to take care of before he could let himself sleep. A little time off his feet would be good enough for now.
“Not yet, we need to talk. Just because you wave around a piece of Orange cloth doesn’t mean we’re automatically friends, but we need to work together for now and that means we should at least know each other. So, introductions; I already know your name, now tell me what you have and what you can do”
Finders Keepers
Private to Glen, Vincent and Tiffany.
"My, now aren't you charming?"
She sighed. Taking a seat on a crate or whatever it was, and crossed her legs.
So far, all the males she'd met here were a bunch of assholes. Like Harold, and now Vincent. Actually there was that one other boy, from the green team back at the hot spot, but she really didn't talk to him at all, not with little miss sunshine waving that baseball bat arrogantly in her face, then.
Even as anti-social as he was, this Vincent boy, was still on her team, and made some kind of attempt to work together with her, even with the way he worded it like that. Back home she'd have told anyone who'd speak to her like that to blow off, but an ally was an ally, and Tiffany was smart enough to work with what she got.
"Ok... let's talk. I have this gun." She laid it on her lap, and shined the flashlight over it.
"I even shot some boy's ear off with it. He called himself Harold and was dressed like a priest. I shot him cause he attacked me. Him and that bitch Marvia Jones. You know the one from our school? Yeah that filthy skank started shooting at me, with like a machine gun or something, damn near killed me, because that freak Harold told her too. Wish I could have shot him in the balls instead."
Tiffany removed her cardigan from her body, and lifted it up into the air in front of her. She pointed the flashlight right onto her cardigan sweater, right where the bullet hole was and showed it to Vincent.
"Also, I can help you - you can help me. We watch each others backs. We're on the same freaking team after all, pal. So it works both ways. The same goes for the rest of our orange sun symbol wearing teammates, when we find them."
A plan was starting to form in Tiffany's mind. One that could be considered very obvious, but she'd bring it up in a little bit.
"Same question for you, Vincent. What do you have and what can you do?"
She sighed. Taking a seat on a crate or whatever it was, and crossed her legs.
So far, all the males she'd met here were a bunch of assholes. Like Harold, and now Vincent. Actually there was that one other boy, from the green team back at the hot spot, but she really didn't talk to him at all, not with little miss sunshine waving that baseball bat arrogantly in her face, then.
Even as anti-social as he was, this Vincent boy, was still on her team, and made some kind of attempt to work together with her, even with the way he worded it like that. Back home she'd have told anyone who'd speak to her like that to blow off, but an ally was an ally, and Tiffany was smart enough to work with what she got.
"Ok... let's talk. I have this gun." She laid it on her lap, and shined the flashlight over it.
"I even shot some boy's ear off with it. He called himself Harold and was dressed like a priest. I shot him cause he attacked me. Him and that bitch Marvia Jones. You know the one from our school? Yeah that filthy skank started shooting at me, with like a machine gun or something, damn near killed me, because that freak Harold told her too. Wish I could have shot him in the balls instead."
Tiffany removed her cardigan from her body, and lifted it up into the air in front of her. She pointed the flashlight right onto her cardigan sweater, right where the bullet hole was and showed it to Vincent.
"Also, I can help you - you can help me. We watch each others backs. We're on the same freaking team after all, pal. So it works both ways. The same goes for the rest of our orange sun symbol wearing teammates, when we find them."
A plan was starting to form in Tiffany's mind. One that could be considered very obvious, but she'd bring it up in a little bit.
"Same question for you, Vincent. What do you have and what can you do?"
Tiffany took a seat opposite Vincent on a crate with a sigh before answering his question; maybe he should have tried to be a little nicer to this girl since they were on the same team and all, it wouldn’t do to piss her off. Still, none of them could exactly be said to be having a good day today, Vincent included, and his patience was wearing a little too thin to try and be civil right now.
It seemed like all Tiffany had was the gun, she talked like she had been given it as her starting weapon which was good for her, Vincent was just glad she sounded like she knew how – and was willing to – use it. She shone the flashlight in her lap to give him a better look at it; it looked like a revolver of some kind, he wasn’t really a gun nut but anybody who’d watched a few action movies could tell you that much.
He made note of the fact that Marvia from Detroit seemed to be playing the game, at the bidding of some guy called Harold or otherwise, and had a machine gun of some kind; probably more like an Uzi type gun like Jonas had though. He would need to watch out for her, he couldn’t count on everyone with a gun like that not knowing how to use it.
He couldn’t help but smirk when she said she should have shot him in the balls instead; yeah, he could work with this girl, she didn’t seem to have a problem using her weapon when she needed to, that was a plus, and if she hit him in the ear like she said she must have been a decent shot at least.
She began to remove her cardigan and Vincent’s eyes followed the movement, only to stop – as many men would – when he saw her chest. It was less noticeable with her cardigan on, but this girl was stacked. Yeah, Vincent could definitely work with this girl. His view was blocked unintentionally when said item of clothing was held in front of herself by Tiffany and a light shone through the bullet hole, as if to provide credence to her story.
"Also, I can help you - you can help me. We watch each others backs. We're on the same freaking team after all, pal. So it works both ways. The same goes for the rest of our orange sun symbol wearing teammates, when we find them."
“Yeah, got it, team spirit and all that crap. I get it, really, and I’ll work with you, but that’s only because I know you can pull your own weight. If the rest of the team can’t then I’m not risking my life just to save theirs”, pulling his pack around in front of him and disentangling the oar from the straps before laying it against the crate, Vincent put it on his lap and opened it up. “As for what I’ve got, let’s start from the beginning”
Vincent rummaged around his pack for a couple of seconds before pulling out his flashlight and another object which he place don the crate next to him. Behind Tiffany the sun continued its slow rise but for now he still needed the artificial light to see things. He turned the light on and shone it on the object, showing a basic model digital camera. “This was my given weapon, I haven’t used it yet but there are probably a few uses for a camera like that”
Next he reached into his pocket and pulled out three white shards of ceramic, he shone the light on these as well showing that one of them had a line of dried blood along one side from where it had been used to cut Isaac back at the ship. “I didn’t have another weapon when I started in the Cruise Ship’s dinning room so I broke one of the plates to get these. I don’t really need them anymore so if you don’t have anything other than that hand cannon you should take them”, he placed them down on the crate and well and next he pulled out his own gun. The light showed that it was a black pistol compared to Tiffany’s silver revolver. “I ran into a couple people while on the boat, first was Jonas – remember him? – who was firing his sub machine gun around like an idiot. He locked himself in one of the bedroom before I managed to get in there and knock him unconscious; I was about to loot his gun and maybe finish him off when someone else from his team showed up. I got the drop on his though and managed to wrestle this from his hands and shoot him with it. He was from Detroit as well but I can’t remember his name, we’ll probably hear it on the next announcement”
He placed the Desert Eagle back in the waist band of his jean behind his back before he placed the pack on the crate on his other side and picked up the wooden oar. “Then there’s this. I ran into a girl, one of the kids from the other school I guess, over on the plains. She had this and when we got into a fight she knocked my gun away before I took this from her; she’s responsible for most of these bruises you can see, and a few more you can’t”, Vincent shifted uncomfortably in his seat before continuing. “So we should watch out for her as well as Harold and Marvia; she was on Purple team I think”
Reaching into his pockets again Vincent pulled out the last item he had acquired so far, a pair of black plastic walkie-talkies which he held by the aerials under the light of the torch. “Lastly, just down the beach I found a guy looting one of the stores and I attacked him. I let him get away but I managed to get these from him instead; they could be useful and in the interest of team work…”, suddenly he took one radio in his other hand and threw it lightly to Tiffany so that it would land in his lap if she didn’t catch it. “There’s yours”
Vincent started to place everything except the plate shards away where they came from before looking back and Tiffany. He had no doubts that this girl was the smarter of the two of them and probably had more of a plan than he did since he was basically just winging it, better to let her take the helm of their little team for now. “So what’s next?”
It seemed like all Tiffany had was the gun, she talked like she had been given it as her starting weapon which was good for her, Vincent was just glad she sounded like she knew how – and was willing to – use it. She shone the flashlight in her lap to give him a better look at it; it looked like a revolver of some kind, he wasn’t really a gun nut but anybody who’d watched a few action movies could tell you that much.
He made note of the fact that Marvia from Detroit seemed to be playing the game, at the bidding of some guy called Harold or otherwise, and had a machine gun of some kind; probably more like an Uzi type gun like Jonas had though. He would need to watch out for her, he couldn’t count on everyone with a gun like that not knowing how to use it.
He couldn’t help but smirk when she said she should have shot him in the balls instead; yeah, he could work with this girl, she didn’t seem to have a problem using her weapon when she needed to, that was a plus, and if she hit him in the ear like she said she must have been a decent shot at least.
She began to remove her cardigan and Vincent’s eyes followed the movement, only to stop – as many men would – when he saw her chest. It was less noticeable with her cardigan on, but this girl was stacked. Yeah, Vincent could definitely work with this girl. His view was blocked unintentionally when said item of clothing was held in front of herself by Tiffany and a light shone through the bullet hole, as if to provide credence to her story.
"Also, I can help you - you can help me. We watch each others backs. We're on the same freaking team after all, pal. So it works both ways. The same goes for the rest of our orange sun symbol wearing teammates, when we find them."
“Yeah, got it, team spirit and all that crap. I get it, really, and I’ll work with you, but that’s only because I know you can pull your own weight. If the rest of the team can’t then I’m not risking my life just to save theirs”, pulling his pack around in front of him and disentangling the oar from the straps before laying it against the crate, Vincent put it on his lap and opened it up. “As for what I’ve got, let’s start from the beginning”
Vincent rummaged around his pack for a couple of seconds before pulling out his flashlight and another object which he place don the crate next to him. Behind Tiffany the sun continued its slow rise but for now he still needed the artificial light to see things. He turned the light on and shone it on the object, showing a basic model digital camera. “This was my given weapon, I haven’t used it yet but there are probably a few uses for a camera like that”
Next he reached into his pocket and pulled out three white shards of ceramic, he shone the light on these as well showing that one of them had a line of dried blood along one side from where it had been used to cut Isaac back at the ship. “I didn’t have another weapon when I started in the Cruise Ship’s dinning room so I broke one of the plates to get these. I don’t really need them anymore so if you don’t have anything other than that hand cannon you should take them”, he placed them down on the crate and well and next he pulled out his own gun. The light showed that it was a black pistol compared to Tiffany’s silver revolver. “I ran into a couple people while on the boat, first was Jonas – remember him? – who was firing his sub machine gun around like an idiot. He locked himself in one of the bedroom before I managed to get in there and knock him unconscious; I was about to loot his gun and maybe finish him off when someone else from his team showed up. I got the drop on his though and managed to wrestle this from his hands and shoot him with it. He was from Detroit as well but I can’t remember his name, we’ll probably hear it on the next announcement”
He placed the Desert Eagle back in the waist band of his jean behind his back before he placed the pack on the crate on his other side and picked up the wooden oar. “Then there’s this. I ran into a girl, one of the kids from the other school I guess, over on the plains. She had this and when we got into a fight she knocked my gun away before I took this from her; she’s responsible for most of these bruises you can see, and a few more you can’t”, Vincent shifted uncomfortably in his seat before continuing. “So we should watch out for her as well as Harold and Marvia; she was on Purple team I think”
Reaching into his pockets again Vincent pulled out the last item he had acquired so far, a pair of black plastic walkie-talkies which he held by the aerials under the light of the torch. “Lastly, just down the beach I found a guy looting one of the stores and I attacked him. I let him get away but I managed to get these from him instead; they could be useful and in the interest of team work…”, suddenly he took one radio in his other hand and threw it lightly to Tiffany so that it would land in his lap if she didn’t catch it. “There’s yours”
Vincent started to place everything except the plate shards away where they came from before looking back and Tiffany. He had no doubts that this girl was the smarter of the two of them and probably had more of a plan than he did since he was basically just winging it, better to let her take the helm of their little team for now. “So what’s next?”
As she buttoned up her cardigan over herself, Tiffany listened to her team mate's story. Apparently, his whole day, was worse than hers, and with him seeing a bit more action. She listened to his start at the cruise ship, where he had first met up with that boy, who always looked like he overdosed on caffeine; Jonas, whom Vincent immediately knocked unconscious after presumably taking shots at him.
Tiffany watched as Vincent pulled out the ceramic shards from his bag, saying he started with a camera and needed to make his own weapons. If he started with a camera, Tiffany started to wonder exactly how he got the gun. The thoughts started forming in her mind, but in the end didn't need to, as Vincent continued telling exactly how he got that gun.
The glow from the flashlight upon the plates, showed traces of blood, causing Tiffany to tense up slightly. The tensing of her muscles increased, when she listened to Vincent talk about wrestling his current gun away from it's original owner, and that they would probably hear his name on the next announcements. All of this confirmed what Tiffany had already suspected about Vincent; about the fact that he was going around and actually killing people, to win the game.
It was certainly a bit of an experience for Tiffany - to listen, to a remorseless killer, talk casually mere inches away from her.
He continued his story, noting his fights with a girl, whom he received his paddle from, and a boy, whom he had fought very recently nearby. Tiffany put two and two together, and realized it was the two them, who had made that racket from earlier. From that, the spoils of Vincent's encounter had abruptly landed right on Tiffany's lap.
She had to hand it to Vincent. He had been in many fights, but was highly successful in each of them, building up an impressive repertoire of items. One of the walkie-talkies he had received from his most recent scuffle was in her hands now, in his words: "the interest of team work." It was a good sign definitely, that Vincent was willing to cooperate. She now had with her, an ally, and a more than competent one at that. Even if he did kill someone. But than that was the game wasn't it? They had to band together as a group and eliminate all the opposition and Vincent Sullivan was doing exactly that.
"Thanks." Tiffany finally said, as she gathered up her own walkie talkie and the plate shards.
“So what’s next?”
Tiffany thought for second, before answering.
"Literally? Well next, you'll probably need rest, mister. Jeeze, I can see gross bags under your eyes already, even in the dark. Seems to me you've had a pretty exhausting day, and in order for you to continue being useful, I'd suggest you get some."
She paused to put Vincent's 'gifts' in her bag, as she thought of what else to say.
"I absolutely, CANNOT die on this stupid island. It's not just my own life that's on the line here, it's my whole damn family. I've been working my ASS OFF and studying, so I could go to college and get a good life - like I was destined to, and MOVE OUT of FUCKING DETROIT! My mom, my dad, and especially my brother James, depend on it. This wretched show WILL NOT take that away from me!"
Tiffany shook her head, and then smiled. The same type of smile she'd use in front of college recruiters, and photographs, under her various clubs, like Student Council, for the yearbook.
"Ok, look I'm sorry for that blow up..." She looked at Vincent's expression again. "Alright-alright, sorry for being a shrewy bitch okay?"
"I just need you to be at your full potential, because we have a big day ahead of us. What's next is simple really... We play by the rules - then we go home."
Tiffany uncrossed her legs, and then crossed them again, the opposite way, resting her folded hands, neatly on her lap.
"They put us in teams, so I think we should take advantage of that. You and I, are going to find out teammates; all of them. Then we fill them in on our little plan. The plan? Well, after hearing about your day; I have to think you've already got the right idea, Vincent my dear."
She lifted her Colt Anaconda up and examined it.
"We're going to fully organize our Orange team. Not just stick with them simply cause we're the same colors. No. They have to learn, that this is a necessity if they want to live and go home. I've done work as a leader before, with Yearbook, and Student Council, so I know how important it is to be organized, when with a team, if you actually want to accomplish something. So that's what I plan to do."
Tiffany noted the slowly rising sun over the edge of the ocean.
"And those hand held radio devices Vincent? Those should be pretty useful. As soon as we find at least one other member, we don't actually need to stay together at all times. We could communicate through them, from opposites sides of the island even. We can cover more ground, if we divide into separate groups. With them in hand, we could fill each other in on what we find."
It was still dark out, but the sun was coming up in a few hours, and it would be morning soon. She needed to finish up, so Vincent could get some rest.
"In short: Organize the group and weaponize our Orange team to work together as one cohesive unit. Together, we can become an even bigger threat, than on our own, to anyone who gets in the way. We'll be like... An Army.
An army, that will steamroll over the entire island. Any questions?"
Tiffany just hoped that no one she actually liked was on this island too...
Tiffany watched as Vincent pulled out the ceramic shards from his bag, saying he started with a camera and needed to make his own weapons. If he started with a camera, Tiffany started to wonder exactly how he got the gun. The thoughts started forming in her mind, but in the end didn't need to, as Vincent continued telling exactly how he got that gun.
The glow from the flashlight upon the plates, showed traces of blood, causing Tiffany to tense up slightly. The tensing of her muscles increased, when she listened to Vincent talk about wrestling his current gun away from it's original owner, and that they would probably hear his name on the next announcements. All of this confirmed what Tiffany had already suspected about Vincent; about the fact that he was going around and actually killing people, to win the game.
It was certainly a bit of an experience for Tiffany - to listen, to a remorseless killer, talk casually mere inches away from her.
He continued his story, noting his fights with a girl, whom he received his paddle from, and a boy, whom he had fought very recently nearby. Tiffany put two and two together, and realized it was the two them, who had made that racket from earlier. From that, the spoils of Vincent's encounter had abruptly landed right on Tiffany's lap.
She had to hand it to Vincent. He had been in many fights, but was highly successful in each of them, building up an impressive repertoire of items. One of the walkie-talkies he had received from his most recent scuffle was in her hands now, in his words: "the interest of team work." It was a good sign definitely, that Vincent was willing to cooperate. She now had with her, an ally, and a more than competent one at that. Even if he did kill someone. But than that was the game wasn't it? They had to band together as a group and eliminate all the opposition and Vincent Sullivan was doing exactly that.
"Thanks." Tiffany finally said, as she gathered up her own walkie talkie and the plate shards.
“So what’s next?”
Tiffany thought for second, before answering.
"Literally? Well next, you'll probably need rest, mister. Jeeze, I can see gross bags under your eyes already, even in the dark. Seems to me you've had a pretty exhausting day, and in order for you to continue being useful, I'd suggest you get some."
She paused to put Vincent's 'gifts' in her bag, as she thought of what else to say.
"I absolutely, CANNOT die on this stupid island. It's not just my own life that's on the line here, it's my whole damn family. I've been working my ASS OFF and studying, so I could go to college and get a good life - like I was destined to, and MOVE OUT of FUCKING DETROIT! My mom, my dad, and especially my brother James, depend on it. This wretched show WILL NOT take that away from me!"
Tiffany shook her head, and then smiled. The same type of smile she'd use in front of college recruiters, and photographs, under her various clubs, like Student Council, for the yearbook.
"Ok, look I'm sorry for that blow up..." She looked at Vincent's expression again. "Alright-alright, sorry for being a shrewy bitch okay?"
"I just need you to be at your full potential, because we have a big day ahead of us. What's next is simple really... We play by the rules - then we go home."
Tiffany uncrossed her legs, and then crossed them again, the opposite way, resting her folded hands, neatly on her lap.
"They put us in teams, so I think we should take advantage of that. You and I, are going to find out teammates; all of them. Then we fill them in on our little plan. The plan? Well, after hearing about your day; I have to think you've already got the right idea, Vincent my dear."
She lifted her Colt Anaconda up and examined it.
"We're going to fully organize our Orange team. Not just stick with them simply cause we're the same colors. No. They have to learn, that this is a necessity if they want to live and go home. I've done work as a leader before, with Yearbook, and Student Council, so I know how important it is to be organized, when with a team, if you actually want to accomplish something. So that's what I plan to do."
Tiffany noted the slowly rising sun over the edge of the ocean.
"And those hand held radio devices Vincent? Those should be pretty useful. As soon as we find at least one other member, we don't actually need to stay together at all times. We could communicate through them, from opposites sides of the island even. We can cover more ground, if we divide into separate groups. With them in hand, we could fill each other in on what we find."
It was still dark out, but the sun was coming up in a few hours, and it would be morning soon. She needed to finish up, so Vincent could get some rest.
"In short: Organize the group and weaponize our Orange team to work together as one cohesive unit. Together, we can become an even bigger threat, than on our own, to anyone who gets in the way. We'll be like... An Army.
An army, that will steamroll over the entire island. Any questions?"
Tiffany just hoped that no one she actually liked was on this island too...
It was interesting to see what Tiffany’s reaction to his story would be; she had been attacked at least once while on the island and seemed to hold nothing but anger for the people who did it, and here he was telling her straight that he had been doing nothing but attacking people since he woke up. She seemed to take it pretty well.
Upon being asked what next she started by telling him he was going to get some sleep, in order to continue being useful. If she was willing to stand guard so he could do that he wasn’t going to argue; he felt a little uneasy trusting his safety to another person like that but since she was the one calling for teamwork he assumed she wouldn’t betray that trust. Whether she could actually keep him safe was another matter, but more people would be sleeping or just waking up at this point as well.
The rant that came next took him a little by surprise; it was expected that she would feel that way – not just about the show but about Detroit as well, that place was a hellhole – but why she was saying this now he didn’t know. She ended by flashing him the kind of fake smile that looked good in a picture but all too put on here, before apologising for her outburst.
He raised an eyebrow quizzically, wondering why she felt the need to apologise for saying what she felt only she must have interpreted it as something else because she went on to apologise for being bitchy instead. He was about to say something about that before she accidentally cut him off by going into her plan.
Vincent waited patiently for her to finish, trying to process as much of what she was saying as possible. He was tired, and generally not a very smart guy to begin with, but he got the general idea; even if he didn’t, she helpfully provided a summary of her own.
"In short: Organize the group and weaponize our Orange team to work together as one cohesive unit. Together, we can become an even bigger threat, than on our own, to anyone who gets in the way. We'll be like... An Army. An army, that will steamroll over the entire island. Any questions?"
Vincent stood up, swinging his pack onto his shoulder and picking up the paddle as he prepared to retreat into the backroom and sleep for a couple of hours. “Nope, sounds good to me. I have to say I’m a little surprised though; I don’t know why I just kind of pictured you as the kind of person who’d want to try and escape and save everyone, instead you’re telling me we’re going to form an army and sweep this game and everyone in it. I guess I’m just lucky I got a teammate sensible enough to know we need to win this game to live and smart enough to do something about it”
He turned away and began walking towards the backroom; the sun was continuing its slow rise up the beach and he didn’t want to waste anymore time talking. “I’m going to go get some sleep like you said. Boss”, the last was said a little sarcastically, Vincent acknowledging Tiffany was in charge. “Wake me just before the announcement would you? I’d like to hear first hand whose killing who out there, I want to know who the competition is; think you can keep us safe until then?”
Vincent stopped as he reached the backroom, stopping himself with a hand on the doorframe and turning back to look at Tiffany. “And you’re not a shrewy bitch. You’re… opinionated; loudly opinionated, but that’s not a bad thing”, he let go of the frame a disappeared into the room before dropping his stuff onto the desk and taking his gun out to place it on the floor before lying behind the desk next to it. “Well, unless someone with a gun hears you, then it’s kind of a bad thing”
Upon being asked what next she started by telling him he was going to get some sleep, in order to continue being useful. If she was willing to stand guard so he could do that he wasn’t going to argue; he felt a little uneasy trusting his safety to another person like that but since she was the one calling for teamwork he assumed she wouldn’t betray that trust. Whether she could actually keep him safe was another matter, but more people would be sleeping or just waking up at this point as well.
The rant that came next took him a little by surprise; it was expected that she would feel that way – not just about the show but about Detroit as well, that place was a hellhole – but why she was saying this now he didn’t know. She ended by flashing him the kind of fake smile that looked good in a picture but all too put on here, before apologising for her outburst.
He raised an eyebrow quizzically, wondering why she felt the need to apologise for saying what she felt only she must have interpreted it as something else because she went on to apologise for being bitchy instead. He was about to say something about that before she accidentally cut him off by going into her plan.
Vincent waited patiently for her to finish, trying to process as much of what she was saying as possible. He was tired, and generally not a very smart guy to begin with, but he got the general idea; even if he didn’t, she helpfully provided a summary of her own.
"In short: Organize the group and weaponize our Orange team to work together as one cohesive unit. Together, we can become an even bigger threat, than on our own, to anyone who gets in the way. We'll be like... An Army. An army, that will steamroll over the entire island. Any questions?"
Vincent stood up, swinging his pack onto his shoulder and picking up the paddle as he prepared to retreat into the backroom and sleep for a couple of hours. “Nope, sounds good to me. I have to say I’m a little surprised though; I don’t know why I just kind of pictured you as the kind of person who’d want to try and escape and save everyone, instead you’re telling me we’re going to form an army and sweep this game and everyone in it. I guess I’m just lucky I got a teammate sensible enough to know we need to win this game to live and smart enough to do something about it”
He turned away and began walking towards the backroom; the sun was continuing its slow rise up the beach and he didn’t want to waste anymore time talking. “I’m going to go get some sleep like you said. Boss”, the last was said a little sarcastically, Vincent acknowledging Tiffany was in charge. “Wake me just before the announcement would you? I’d like to hear first hand whose killing who out there, I want to know who the competition is; think you can keep us safe until then?”
Vincent stopped as he reached the backroom, stopping himself with a hand on the doorframe and turning back to look at Tiffany. “And you’re not a shrewy bitch. You’re… opinionated; loudly opinionated, but that’s not a bad thing”, he let go of the frame a disappeared into the room before dropping his stuff onto the desk and taking his gun out to place it on the floor before lying behind the desk next to it. “Well, unless someone with a gun hears you, then it’s kind of a bad thing”
"Thanks."
Tiffany smiled again, but this time it was a little more sincere. She felt so girlish, smiling and possibly fluttering her eyelids inadvertently. In a way, Tiffany felt flattered by each of his comments, even the sarcastic one where he called her boss. There was really, not very many people back at home who appreciated her, given her compliments, or even been nice to her. She was just caught off guard that someone did so right now. Least of all, some boy - one quite unfortunate in the looks department at that, on this SOTF show who also happened to be a self admitted killer.
"And yes. I'll keep watch. Sweet dreams..."
After watching Vincent go to sleep, Tiffany closed the door to the store they were in and found a place to sit adjacent to the entrance where she could see if anyone was coming in. She held her magnum in hand, keeping it pointed at the door in silence, just waiting for anyone to come in.
Turns out nobody had decided to drop in for several hours and the sun had begun to rise. She even allowed herself to rest her eyes and relax, but still keep her ears open for anything with gun still in hand.
When there was enough light of day, Tiffany had even begun to scribble an entry or two into her new diary. Until the announcements blared on. Quickly she walked to the employee's only room to wake up her sleeping team mate.
"Hey."
She nudged him with her shoe.
"Wake up. Annoucements."
On it: people she didn't know... Karen? Killed again. Definite danger. Vincent killed, like he said. He was truthful. More people she didn't know... Odile? HAH. I knew she couldn't be trusted!
Also quite the interesting news was that HAROLD had died. Well she knew he would have been killed soon anyway. That boy was an absolute idiot. She had warned him to keep guarding those balls of his and how did he end up getting killed?
From a groin kick.
Tiffany couldn't help, but blurt out a laugh.
Tiffany smiled again, but this time it was a little more sincere. She felt so girlish, smiling and possibly fluttering her eyelids inadvertently. In a way, Tiffany felt flattered by each of his comments, even the sarcastic one where he called her boss. There was really, not very many people back at home who appreciated her, given her compliments, or even been nice to her. She was just caught off guard that someone did so right now. Least of all, some boy - one quite unfortunate in the looks department at that, on this SOTF show who also happened to be a self admitted killer.
"And yes. I'll keep watch. Sweet dreams..."
After watching Vincent go to sleep, Tiffany closed the door to the store they were in and found a place to sit adjacent to the entrance where she could see if anyone was coming in. She held her magnum in hand, keeping it pointed at the door in silence, just waiting for anyone to come in.
Turns out nobody had decided to drop in for several hours and the sun had begun to rise. She even allowed herself to rest her eyes and relax, but still keep her ears open for anything with gun still in hand.
When there was enough light of day, Tiffany had even begun to scribble an entry or two into her new diary. Until the announcements blared on. Quickly she walked to the employee's only room to wake up her sleeping team mate.
"Hey."
She nudged him with her shoe.
"Wake up. Annoucements."
On it: people she didn't know... Karen? Killed again. Definite danger. Vincent killed, like he said. He was truthful. More people she didn't know... Odile? HAH. I knew she couldn't be trusted!
Also quite the interesting news was that HAROLD had died. Well she knew he would have been killed soon anyway. That boy was an absolute idiot. She had warned him to keep guarding those balls of his and how did he end up getting killed?
From a groin kick.
Tiffany couldn't help, but blurt out a laugh.
A shoe to the ribs – gentle as it may have been – wasn’t the most pleasant way to wake up, but given that without Tiffany there to watch out for him he probably wouldn’t have gotten any sleep anyway he could let that slide. He stood up and grabbed his pack and weapons from the desk before wandering back into the main room just in time to hear the first of the names read off on the announcement.
“Look’s like we’ll need to watch out for Karen then; one kill is an accident but two on consecutive announcements makes a player”, Vincent placed his gun back in the waistband of his jeans but kept the wooden paddle in his hand as he put the pack over his shoulder. It would slow him down a bit to walk around with it in his hands but if they were attacked he didn’t want to be fumbling around for something to hit them with. He was a little surprised to hear Jonas’ name read out as well; or rather he should say he was surprised to not hear it read out to announce his death.
Tiffany seemed to find something about the announcement particularly funny as she could help but let out a laugh after hearing it. Going over the names again in his head he wondered if the Harold that was killed was the one who she shot before; most likely, they usually didn’t pick two people with the same name for these things, maybe the audience was too stupid to keep track of two ‘John’s’ or something.
“Alright, as much as I like the view we should probably leave this place if we want to find the other Orange’s. Were do you want to go first?”
“Look’s like we’ll need to watch out for Karen then; one kill is an accident but two on consecutive announcements makes a player”, Vincent placed his gun back in the waistband of his jeans but kept the wooden paddle in his hand as he put the pack over his shoulder. It would slow him down a bit to walk around with it in his hands but if they were attacked he didn’t want to be fumbling around for something to hit them with. He was a little surprised to hear Jonas’ name read out as well; or rather he should say he was surprised to not hear it read out to announce his death.
Tiffany seemed to find something about the announcement particularly funny as she could help but let out a laugh after hearing it. Going over the names again in his head he wondered if the Harold that was killed was the one who she shot before; most likely, they usually didn’t pick two people with the same name for these things, maybe the audience was too stupid to keep track of two ‘John’s’ or something.
“Alright, as much as I like the view we should probably leave this place if we want to find the other Orange’s. Were do you want to go first?”
Vincent commented on the announcements and Tiffany nodded in agreement to them. This was turning out swell. Vincent was highly cooperative and it seemed like the idea would be going down without a hitch if they could find the rest of orange and keep this civility amongst each other, up. She did have to admit, her plan was quite an extreme one, but it was the most logical. She wasn't going to enjoy what her team was about to start, (unless she really hated the person!) but it was just a necessary adventure to get out of here.
It wasn't her fault, that these network hot shots had put her and everyone else into this free for all and that every moron in America had bought into this lunacy. All of this was entirely accepted by the general populace. In fact, kids from this show had gone on to become celebrities afterward. After 65 seasons, there would be no shame, for simply playing by the rules; to win and go home.
"Where do you want to go first?” Vincent asked.
She pulled out her map and looked at it for a minute, taking note of each of the closest landmark locations from their current location on the resort beach. Soon enough, her finger rested on one spot in particular.
"I think we should head, inland." She said before folding the map and placing it back in her bag.
Tiffany sat in a ladylike position and took a sip of her water along with a bite of wonder bread as if she were dining on some tea and crumpets.
"Right after our crappy lunch of course."
[[Tiffany Dexter Continued To: Chain of Sorrow.]]
It wasn't her fault, that these network hot shots had put her and everyone else into this free for all and that every moron in America had bought into this lunacy. All of this was entirely accepted by the general populace. In fact, kids from this show had gone on to become celebrities afterward. After 65 seasons, there would be no shame, for simply playing by the rules; to win and go home.
"Where do you want to go first?” Vincent asked.
She pulled out her map and looked at it for a minute, taking note of each of the closest landmark locations from their current location on the resort beach. Soon enough, her finger rested on one spot in particular.
"I think we should head, inland." She said before folding the map and placing it back in her bag.
Tiffany sat in a ladylike position and took a sip of her water along with a bite of wonder bread as if she were dining on some tea and crumpets.
"Right after our crappy lunch of course."
[[Tiffany Dexter Continued To: Chain of Sorrow.]]
With a sigh Vincent sat down on a crate opposite Tiffany and pulled out some of his own food supplies, which were substantially more than his teammates thanks to him acquiring Isaac’s food as well.
“As long as we don’t run into any large groups I don’t care where we go; inland sounds good”
As Vincent ate the practically tasteless supplies he recalled something from the initiation back in the studio; one member of the team was supposed to get a message from their team mentor or something like that. The advice of whatever idiot they hired to mentor these teams probably wouldn’t be that useful usually but given what him and Tiffany were trying to do right now, having someone tell them where their teammates were would be very helpful. Probably wouldn’t happen though.
(Vincent Sullivan continued in Chain of Sorrow)
“As long as we don’t run into any large groups I don’t care where we go; inland sounds good”
As Vincent ate the practically tasteless supplies he recalled something from the initiation back in the studio; one member of the team was supposed to get a message from their team mentor or something like that. The advice of whatever idiot they hired to mentor these teams probably wouldn’t be that useful usually but given what him and Tiffany were trying to do right now, having someone tell them where their teammates were would be very helpful. Probably wouldn’t happen though.
(Vincent Sullivan continued in Chain of Sorrow)