Ghosts Of Mississippi
Posted: Sat Jun 01, 2019 11:49 am
((Faith C. Marshal-Mackenzie - Day 1 - START!))
Faith was worried.
Not panicked, not any more. She'd gotten through that a few hours ago, screaming and ranting at the camera like she was sure everyone else had. She wasn't scared either, that had been the predominant emotion after Ms. Garcia was executed, by a man called Greynolds. It figured that Danya wouldn't be man enough to do his own dirty work before taking to the stage. She'd add coward to the list along with terrorist, mass murderer, and all-around cunt when asked to describe him in future.
Well, when was a bit optimistic.
If.
Still, all of that was out of mind now. She was worried because it had been two hours and she hadn't seen anyone. It was making her wonder where everyone else was, and none of the answers to that filled her with anything approaching positivity. If they were hiding that meant they had reason to do so, and whilst she hadn't heard any gunshots yet, maybe she was on the wrong half of the island to be able to.
The time alone had, at least, given her a chance to get to know the ungainly weapon she'd been granted. It was a 6-barrelled monstrosity with a battery in the handle, that fired spikes about as long as her index finger, that'd bury themselves pretty damn deep in a tree. She had also, following finding that out, realised that it couldn't be reloaded.
So, she had 5 shots.
Part of her hoped that she wouldn't have to use them. But it wasn't like they were all going to agree to spite the terrorists and let themselves die. There were too many people who thought that they were worth more than anyone else. Too many arrogant fucks who'd play the game because they thought they were the sort of person who could win.
She was smart enough to realise how fucked she was.
Her boots continued to trample through the undergrowth as she finally reached the edges of the wilderness that had trapped her for so long, the light around her slowly losing it's green tinge as the sun no longer had to filter through layers of chlorophyll to reach her. Hopefully she'd find some people worth firing those shots for, rather than at.
((Faith C. Marshal-Mackenzie continued Elsewhere))
Faith was worried.
Not panicked, not any more. She'd gotten through that a few hours ago, screaming and ranting at the camera like she was sure everyone else had. She wasn't scared either, that had been the predominant emotion after Ms. Garcia was executed, by a man called Greynolds. It figured that Danya wouldn't be man enough to do his own dirty work before taking to the stage. She'd add coward to the list along with terrorist, mass murderer, and all-around cunt when asked to describe him in future.
Well, when was a bit optimistic.
If.
Still, all of that was out of mind now. She was worried because it had been two hours and she hadn't seen anyone. It was making her wonder where everyone else was, and none of the answers to that filled her with anything approaching positivity. If they were hiding that meant they had reason to do so, and whilst she hadn't heard any gunshots yet, maybe she was on the wrong half of the island to be able to.
The time alone had, at least, given her a chance to get to know the ungainly weapon she'd been granted. It was a 6-barrelled monstrosity with a battery in the handle, that fired spikes about as long as her index finger, that'd bury themselves pretty damn deep in a tree. She had also, following finding that out, realised that it couldn't be reloaded.
So, she had 5 shots.
Part of her hoped that she wouldn't have to use them. But it wasn't like they were all going to agree to spite the terrorists and let themselves die. There were too many people who thought that they were worth more than anyone else. Too many arrogant fucks who'd play the game because they thought they were the sort of person who could win.
She was smart enough to realise how fucked she was.
Her boots continued to trample through the undergrowth as she finally reached the edges of the wilderness that had trapped her for so long, the light around her slowly losing it's green tinge as the sun no longer had to filter through layers of chlorophyll to reach her. Hopefully she'd find some people worth firing those shots for, rather than at.
((Faith C. Marshal-Mackenzie continued Elsewhere))