((Gabriela Garcia-Campos continued from Water))
The fucking ship rocking and shifting around under Gabriela’s feet was worse than back at the ferry. Between the water overflowing onto the floor and that hole in the damn ceiling she saw as she walked in, it felt like this place was about to just fall apart and sink into the ocean.
Even so, Gabriela’s mind kept returning to her failures. She’d failed to shoot Kamille and Calla, even though the opportunity had been quite open for her. Hell, she definitely should’ve shot Calla, since the girl was probably running around and setting shitty little traps to kill other people anyway.
Gabriela had at least mustered the energy to shoot at Mariko right at the start in their fucked up little confrontation, and it had even seemed like she’d gotten something like a hit on the girl… But just firing blindly through a doorway didn’t get much done, and she didn’t feel particularly pleased with whatever results she’d achieved.
Fuck, she was so bad at this.
She’d seen people kill on SOTF before. Gabriela understood the mechanics of shooting a person with your assigned gun, and what that was supposed to look like. But it was different when you had to hold the weapon in your own hands, how your muscles would tense as you pulled the trigger.
Gabriela was never one of those psychotic fans who thought that being on the show would be some kind of fun experience that they’d relish if they somehow got cast, but… fuck she didn’t expect it to be to be so fucking hard to just do this shit.
Her feet shuffled against the floor, sneakers already wet from the water that splashed up on the deck and on the wooden boards. She was going to get an awful case of athlete’s foot by the end of this.
Gabriela laughed at that stupid fucking thought. Why the hell had her mind gone to some bullshit about athlete’s fucking foot?
She felt a tightness in her throat then.
No. She wasn’t going to cry now. She always hated it when people just randomly fucking cried on this show. Everyone knew what SOTF was, so just get the fuck over yourself and deal with it.
Gabriela nodded her head, breathing slowly.
But how do you deal with that?
Nearby, Gabriela noticed a nearby stand on the boat which held several ratty old t-shirts with logos symbolizing various past SOTF seasons. The shirts had been mostly ruined by time and the sea air, but she could still vaguely recognize bits of the designs that remained, and what they should have made up in better days.
Gabriela needed to make use of every resource she had, even if it probably wouldn’t help much.
Her and lightly touched the collar around her neck.
“Hey Ben…
“Ben Cuntner I-...
“Okay, look, sorry about that, Cuthner. I’m just… I’m trying to figure out something. That something is killing people. Not the how to shoot somebody, but the mental angle. I was hoping you had some advice.
“And sorry about the name thing, again. Force of habit.”
Phone a Friend
Private
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Catche Jagger
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Rattlesnake
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There is a pregnant pause, and then a voice echoes from Gabriela's collar.
"Hey, hey, hey. No worries. But we're, uh, cutting right to it, huh? Gimme a sec to think."
...
"Alright. First off, I think asking that is a great first step. A lot of people don't even think to do that. And what I can say is, it's just difficult to break the ice. You know I didn't do so willingly. But when it does come time...
"Let me put it this way. I think you think you're fucked. That's not wrong. But do you know you're fucked? Really, truly, absolutely. That's what makes things happen, that's how you stop worrying deep down that you'll actually hit someone, and start worrying deep down that you won't.
"If you need more, they said they won't cut me off from a quick back-and-forth."
"Hey, hey, hey. No worries. But we're, uh, cutting right to it, huh? Gimme a sec to think."
...
"Alright. First off, I think asking that is a great first step. A lot of people don't even think to do that. And what I can say is, it's just difficult to break the ice. You know I didn't do so willingly. But when it does come time...
"Let me put it this way. I think you think you're fucked. That's not wrong. But do you know you're fucked? Really, truly, absolutely. That's what makes things happen, that's how you stop worrying deep down that you'll actually hit someone, and start worrying deep down that you won't.
"If you need more, they said they won't cut me off from a quick back-and-forth."
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Catche Jagger
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“Ah, um…”
Gabriela hesitated for a moment. Cuthner gave the sort of response she really should have expected. It was vague gesturing at a philosophy that didn’t seem to entirely click with her, but that was all she was going to be getting asking about this topic, wasn’t it? Just the individual reasonings and justifications that brought individuals to make the same decision: to kill.
All the response really confirmed for Gabriela was the fact that she’d have to find her own way to making that final call. Find a way for her to come to terms and fucking commit herself to this shit.
Her right hand shook a bit, the pistol still firmly in its grip.
“I… yeah, hold on. There is something else.” Gabriela spoke up again. She was tense. Her next question felt foolish and there was the sense in the back of her mind that she should just drop the topic, but she needed to ask.
“What did it feel like? Doing it, I mean.”
Gabriela hesitated for a moment. Cuthner gave the sort of response she really should have expected. It was vague gesturing at a philosophy that didn’t seem to entirely click with her, but that was all she was going to be getting asking about this topic, wasn’t it? Just the individual reasonings and justifications that brought individuals to make the same decision: to kill.
All the response really confirmed for Gabriela was the fact that she’d have to find her own way to making that final call. Find a way for her to come to terms and fucking commit herself to this shit.
Her right hand shook a bit, the pistol still firmly in its grip.
“I… yeah, hold on. There is something else.” Gabriela spoke up again. She was tense. Her next question felt foolish and there was the sense in the back of her mind that she should just drop the topic, but she needed to ask.
“What did it feel like? Doing it, I mean.”
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Rattlesnake
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"You're hittin' real hard here, you know. But that's good, I like that."
"How it felt, though... Mmm, lonely? But powerful. And scared, of course. Didn't know if I was gonna puke, crawl into a hole, or run a marathon. The actual moment, it was me realizing I had another option than just sitting around waiting to die. I could take control. That was the most powerful feeling in the world. Nothing else mattered, so that's what made it happen.
"After that, it came easy. I'm no Jewel, but at that point it was just who I was, what I was doing, what I was gonna do. I'd done it once, fuck me if I was gonna chicken out the second time, you know?
"Just, promise you'll stay alive 'til you get there, alright? You guys got teammates to watch your back. Don't gotta rush if you're not trying to be Jewel."
"How it felt, though... Mmm, lonely? But powerful. And scared, of course. Didn't know if I was gonna puke, crawl into a hole, or run a marathon. The actual moment, it was me realizing I had another option than just sitting around waiting to die. I could take control. That was the most powerful feeling in the world. Nothing else mattered, so that's what made it happen.
"After that, it came easy. I'm no Jewel, but at that point it was just who I was, what I was doing, what I was gonna do. I'd done it once, fuck me if I was gonna chicken out the second time, you know?
"Just, promise you'll stay alive 'til you get there, alright? You guys got teammates to watch your back. Don't gotta rush if you're not trying to be Jewel."
"I got one more? Ok, ok, ok. Wait, gimme the feed. The fuck is he doing?"
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Catche Jagger
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The words made sense. It was about momentum, about getting that initial push over with so that the ball got rolling to a point where it eventually couldn’t be stopped anymore. That was a metaphor that clicked with Gabriela. It was mechanical, functional, practical. All she needed to do was get the first out of the way, and then it’d all be easier.
However, the longer the exchange continued, the greater the tension in her body became, to the point where it felt like her next and shoulders might end up fucking fused. Why the hell was she so fucking nervous? Was she worried about choking yet the fuck again, even after this? Or was it that thing Cuthner kept saying about “not being Jewel”?
There was some chatter in the background. Cuthner would have to go soon and then she’d be all alone, left to sink or swim.
She swallowed.
“And- I get you’ve got to go. Um, what if I do, like you said- What if I do want to be like, uh… like Jewel?” Gabriela spoke too quickly, probably sounding like she had some kind of fucking speech impediment.
However, the longer the exchange continued, the greater the tension in her body became, to the point where it felt like her next and shoulders might end up fucking fused. Why the hell was she so fucking nervous? Was she worried about choking yet the fuck again, even after this? Or was it that thing Cuthner kept saying about “not being Jewel”?
There was some chatter in the background. Cuthner would have to go soon and then she’d be all alone, left to sink or swim.
She swallowed.
“And- I get you’ve got to go. Um, what if I do, like you said- What if I do want to be like, uh… like Jewel?” Gabriela spoke too quickly, probably sounding like she had some kind of fucking speech impediment.
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Rattlesnake
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"Yeah, someone's getting kicked in the balls right now which is a little distracting. Uhh, you wanna do that, you wanna go all the way, you wanna take that route, I'm behind you 100%.
"But the advice I can give you is, think about how many ten is and how long these things usually last. If that's what you want, you gotta put in some work before they let me check in again.
"Nothing you can't handle if that's what you really want, though. I will say your fellow crabs could maybe use a little assistance, but you do what you gotta.
"'Til then, I can still listen in, just can't say more. We'll talk again tomorrow for sure."
"But the advice I can give you is, think about how many ten is and how long these things usually last. If that's what you want, you gotta put in some work before they let me check in again.
"Nothing you can't handle if that's what you really want, though. I will say your fellow crabs could maybe use a little assistance, but you do what you gotta.
"'Til then, I can still listen in, just can't say more. We'll talk again tomorrow for sure."
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Catche Jagger
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“Okay, talk to you then.”
That was all Gabriela could think to say once Cuthner’s transmission ended. Well, that wasn’t all she could think to say. She had opted to omit the “If I’m not already dead.” from the end of the statement.
It turned out that talking out her problems hadn’t helped all that much, since she was just feeling sick all over again. Gabriela had always hated the kids on this show that came in acting like they were here to play some big game only to fuck it up right off the bat. If someone was going to go full edgy asshole, you had to back that up, you definitely had to do more than yell and scream and shoot at the air.
Gabriela needed the moment to think. She needed to think about… something. She didn’t know. She walked further into the shop boat, getting a bit away from the entrance, wet sneakers squelching on the hard floor with each step she took.
In spite of the shelves being stocked full of knick-knacks and merch, there was an overwhelming emptiness to the place. Maybe the clutter actually contributed to that feeling, with everything faded or broken looking in some way. Maybe it was just her.
Gabriela placed her hand on one of the shelves, wanting some relief from the constant, steady rocking of this place. However, the board creaked and bent slightly the moment the moment she put any more weight on it, apparently already at its limit with the numerous little dolphin statues that people bought lonely old relatives.
Gabriela was… In spite of all of it she wasn’t going to vomit or get sick or anything like that. She would stay focused. It was like Cuthner said, she just had to get the momentum, right?
She took another breath before turning her head and gazing out the side of the boat, out at the smaller vessels and wooden jetties that led out to a vast empty sea.
Maybe the ten kills idea was fucking stupid. Maybe she just couldn’t fucking cut it.
No… shit. If Gabriela thought like that then she would never actually do it. And then she’d just die.
That was all Gabriela could think to say once Cuthner’s transmission ended. Well, that wasn’t all she could think to say. She had opted to omit the “If I’m not already dead.” from the end of the statement.
It turned out that talking out her problems hadn’t helped all that much, since she was just feeling sick all over again. Gabriela had always hated the kids on this show that came in acting like they were here to play some big game only to fuck it up right off the bat. If someone was going to go full edgy asshole, you had to back that up, you definitely had to do more than yell and scream and shoot at the air.
Gabriela needed the moment to think. She needed to think about… something. She didn’t know. She walked further into the shop boat, getting a bit away from the entrance, wet sneakers squelching on the hard floor with each step she took.
In spite of the shelves being stocked full of knick-knacks and merch, there was an overwhelming emptiness to the place. Maybe the clutter actually contributed to that feeling, with everything faded or broken looking in some way. Maybe it was just her.
Gabriela placed her hand on one of the shelves, wanting some relief from the constant, steady rocking of this place. However, the board creaked and bent slightly the moment the moment she put any more weight on it, apparently already at its limit with the numerous little dolphin statues that people bought lonely old relatives.
Gabriela was… In spite of all of it she wasn’t going to vomit or get sick or anything like that. She would stay focused. It was like Cuthner said, she just had to get the momentum, right?
She took another breath before turning her head and gazing out the side of the boat, out at the smaller vessels and wooden jetties that led out to a vast empty sea.
Maybe the ten kills idea was fucking stupid. Maybe she just couldn’t fucking cut it.
No… shit. If Gabriela thought like that then she would never actually do it. And then she’d just die.
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RetroVenus
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((Elliott-Blair Østergaard continued from touchdown confirmed))
Seaways and seagulls. No sign of human activity to be found.
Elliott-Blair's first instinct was check the area he awakened in (a rather rude awakening, on retrospect. Was that a trumpet he had heard?). He had reconsidered upon hearing the sound of someone slamming against something. Could have be harmless, but he didn't want to be proven wrong.
His next stop was going to be the cruise ship, but he had rejected the idea after the structure loomed over him. It was a cruise ship after all, and while he had never been on one, he could imagine it was full of nooks and crannies for one to hide in. His assigned "weapon" would be next to useless in such cramped spaces.
This left him to scout out his next target; a boxy looking boat floating in close proximity to the cruise ship.
Spyglass firmly in hand, he positioned himself some feet away from the boat. There appeared to be openings on all sides of it, making his job all the more easier.
Though it...probably wasn't a good idea to stand out in the open like this. Extending the spyglass, he took quick stock of the area around him. Other than an old-fashioned ferry, there were only dilapidated sailboats to note. There were some buoys a good distance away from those, and—hang on.
Was that...a ship?
Far beyond the buoys, a ship rose from sea foam when viewed through the spyglass. It was much, much farther than anything else, so far out that he couldn't even tell what kind of ship it was. Though one of the aforementioned sailboats partially blocked his view; perhaps he could get a better look if he took a couple steps back. Perhaps a little further. Hell, might as well step onto that boat if it'll grant him a better vantage point.
So fixated was he on the mysterious ship, that he temporarily forgot why he wanted to scout the boxy boat first.
Seaways and seagulls. No sign of human activity to be found.
Elliott-Blair's first instinct was check the area he awakened in (a rather rude awakening, on retrospect. Was that a trumpet he had heard?). He had reconsidered upon hearing the sound of someone slamming against something. Could have be harmless, but he didn't want to be proven wrong.
His next stop was going to be the cruise ship, but he had rejected the idea after the structure loomed over him. It was a cruise ship after all, and while he had never been on one, he could imagine it was full of nooks and crannies for one to hide in. His assigned "weapon" would be next to useless in such cramped spaces.
This left him to scout out his next target; a boxy looking boat floating in close proximity to the cruise ship.
Spyglass firmly in hand, he positioned himself some feet away from the boat. There appeared to be openings on all sides of it, making his job all the more easier.
Though it...probably wasn't a good idea to stand out in the open like this. Extending the spyglass, he took quick stock of the area around him. Other than an old-fashioned ferry, there were only dilapidated sailboats to note. There were some buoys a good distance away from those, and—hang on.
Was that...a ship?
Far beyond the buoys, a ship rose from sea foam when viewed through the spyglass. It was much, much farther than anything else, so far out that he couldn't even tell what kind of ship it was. Though one of the aforementioned sailboats partially blocked his view; perhaps he could get a better look if he took a couple steps back. Perhaps a little further. Hell, might as well step onto that boat if it'll grant him a better vantage point.
So fixated was he on the mysterious ship, that he temporarily forgot why he wanted to scout the boxy boat first.
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Catche Jagger
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The perfect awfulness of Gabriela’s isolation eventually came to an end as she heard footsteps approaching the shop boat. Unsure of what to do, she quickly ducked behind one of sets of shelves, squatting low to the ground.
She considered shouting for whoever it was to get the fuck out because this was her place to sit and think for a bit, and she wasn’t looking for anybody to hang around with for now, but she stopped herself before any sound escaped her lips.
Cuthner had said that she needed to break the ice by getting her one kill and then everything would be way the fuck easier, right? And what would make for a cleaner first kill than a straightforward ambush? Really, whoever the fuck it was kind of deserved it for not bothering to properly check the boat.
But then she didn’t get up.
Come the fuck on! What the hell was wrong with her?
After a few slow breaths, Gabriela slowly made her way around the shelves, keeping low to the ground as she did, pistol at the ready. She tried to move slow, hoping to limit the sound emitted from her shoes.
Of course, she very quickly recognized the newcomer, even though they weren’t looking directly at her. It was Elliott, not wearing a bandana that matched the orange one tied around Gabriela’s upper right arm.
It was Elliott.
Gabriela rose to stand up straight, aiming the gun at her friend while he had his back to her, caught up staring off into space even out here.
She could do this. Elliott wouldn’t last long in a situation like this, obviously. He was weak and a bit of a coward and he didn’t have any sort of practical survival skills. Hell, he wasn’t really a fan of the fucking show to begin with, based on how cagey he could act when Gabriela brought it up, so he wouldn’t even have any sort of knowledge base to make up for a lack of skills. Really, it was the only right thing to do, to take him out early. Yeah, Gabriela would be able to make sure to do it quick, painless, so Elliott would die without ever knowing what had happened. It was a mercy. Killing Elliott right now, as he gazed out at the sea through his little spyglass, would be merciful. She ought to show her friend that mercy, right?
Gabriela placed her finger on the trigger.
She’d already fired the pistol twice.
She knew how it felt to use it now.
At this range she wouldn’t miss.
She could do this.
She could do this.
She considered shouting for whoever it was to get the fuck out because this was her place to sit and think for a bit, and she wasn’t looking for anybody to hang around with for now, but she stopped herself before any sound escaped her lips.
Cuthner had said that she needed to break the ice by getting her one kill and then everything would be way the fuck easier, right? And what would make for a cleaner first kill than a straightforward ambush? Really, whoever the fuck it was kind of deserved it for not bothering to properly check the boat.
But then she didn’t get up.
Come the fuck on! What the hell was wrong with her?
After a few slow breaths, Gabriela slowly made her way around the shelves, keeping low to the ground as she did, pistol at the ready. She tried to move slow, hoping to limit the sound emitted from her shoes.
Of course, she very quickly recognized the newcomer, even though they weren’t looking directly at her. It was Elliott, not wearing a bandana that matched the orange one tied around Gabriela’s upper right arm.
It was Elliott.
Gabriela rose to stand up straight, aiming the gun at her friend while he had his back to her, caught up staring off into space even out here.
She could do this. Elliott wouldn’t last long in a situation like this, obviously. He was weak and a bit of a coward and he didn’t have any sort of practical survival skills. Hell, he wasn’t really a fan of the fucking show to begin with, based on how cagey he could act when Gabriela brought it up, so he wouldn’t even have any sort of knowledge base to make up for a lack of skills. Really, it was the only right thing to do, to take him out early. Yeah, Gabriela would be able to make sure to do it quick, painless, so Elliott would die without ever knowing what had happened. It was a mercy. Killing Elliott right now, as he gazed out at the sea through his little spyglass, would be merciful. She ought to show her friend that mercy, right?
Gabriela placed her finger on the trigger.
She’d already fired the pistol twice.
She knew how it felt to use it now.
At this range she wouldn’t miss.
She could do this.
She could do this.
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As it was, the mysterious ship on the horizon seemed to be a cruise ship. Possibly. Maybe. Though even with the spyglass at it's maximum magnification, Elliott-Blair still couldn't make out any details. The only reason he could identify it as a cruise ship in the first place was because it's shape was similar to the cruise ship he was next to.
He lowered the spyglass slightly, watching as the distant cruise ship disappeared from view. There were jetties leading towards it's general direction; if he followed along them, he might get a better—
Footsteps.
Elliott-Blair spun around.
The reminder that he was currently participating in America's biggest reality show came in the form of Gabriela.
Wearing an orange bandana around her right arm.
With a gun pointed right at him.
A hard jolt ran through Elliott-Blair, causing him to fumble the spyglass he had previously held so tightly in his hands. Gabriela—Gabriela?—was, she was planning to—
Any thoughts that ran through his mind halted, leaving only silence.
He lowered the spyglass slightly, watching as the distant cruise ship disappeared from view. There were jetties leading towards it's general direction; if he followed along them, he might get a better—
Footsteps.
Elliott-Blair spun around.
The reminder that he was currently participating in America's biggest reality show came in the form of Gabriela.
Wearing an orange bandana around her right arm.
With a gun pointed right at him.
A hard jolt ran through Elliott-Blair, causing him to fumble the spyglass he had previously held so tightly in his hands. Gabriela—Gabriela?—was, she was planning to—
Any thoughts that ran through his mind halted, leaving only silence.
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Catche Jagger
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Elliott had to fucking go and turn around, looking at her like a deer in headlights. Literally like a stupid animal that couldn’t comprehend what exactly was going to come next. He didn’t say anything, but Gabriela could see into his eyes, could see all the questions, the helplessness, the stupidity.
In that moment, Gabriela hated him. Truly, deeply hated him.
Her finger did not move, resting on the trigger as a second passed. And then another. Gabriela remained frozen in place, hardened expression wavering slightly.
She could do this.
Finally, an unintelligible sound left her mouth that rested somewhere between an apology and a whimper and she knew it was over.
She really was just another loser.
Gabriela couldn’t help but start to laugh as she lowered the pistol. The sound wasn’t relieved or playful, though. The laugh was low and bitter. She was laughing at herself, at her absolute failure to fucking do anything. It was a laugh that felt a lot like crying, the way it left her throat and the sides of her head with a sense of soreness. Except Gabriela wasn’t going to cry on national fucking television.
“Elliott…” What the hell was she supposed to say to him? “Damn it, you’re such a fucking moron. I would’ve… If it wasn’t me you’d be dead right now, you know that?” Gabriela’s voice was quiet, uncertain. She still hated him a bit.
She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Not now.
In that moment, Gabriela hated him. Truly, deeply hated him.
Her finger did not move, resting on the trigger as a second passed. And then another. Gabriela remained frozen in place, hardened expression wavering slightly.
She could do this.
Finally, an unintelligible sound left her mouth that rested somewhere between an apology and a whimper and she knew it was over.
She really was just another loser.
Gabriela couldn’t help but start to laugh as she lowered the pistol. The sound wasn’t relieved or playful, though. The laugh was low and bitter. She was laughing at herself, at her absolute failure to fucking do anything. It was a laugh that felt a lot like crying, the way it left her throat and the sides of her head with a sense of soreness. Except Gabriela wasn’t going to cry on national fucking television.
“Elliott…” What the hell was she supposed to say to him? “Damn it, you’re such a fucking moron. I would’ve… If it wasn’t me you’d be dead right now, you know that?” Gabriela’s voice was quiet, uncertain. She still hated him a bit.
She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Not now.
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Silence.
No, that wasn't right. There were sounds; breaking waves, seagulls squawking, distant shouting. None of them reached Elliott-Blair. It all came in a high-pitched hum.
He didn't move. Neither did Gabriela.
Silence.
Gabriela blinked first. She let out some sort of strangled noise that dissolved into a laugh (or was it a sob? He couldn't tell). She was upset, that was for certain, but he didn't know what to do. He never knew what to, he was terrible at comforting people.
Gabriela lowered her gun, and the humming noise died down.
You could die. The thought was sudden and loud. The hell was he doing anyway, staring at ships that weren't part of the arena. The arena. Of Survival of the Fittest. This wasn't a dream.
Was it?
You could die.
Elliott-Blair's name was called, snapping him from his thoughts. Gabriela was berating him for being so stupid, that if it wasn't her with the gun he'd be dead.
So she...wasn't going to shoot him? Was it because he was her friend?
but she's wearing a different bandana what's stopping her from shooting him right now he's her enemy she's the enemy—
"You got a gun," Elliott-Blair said. He repeatedly extended and collapsed his spyglass, feeling every twist and click with his hands.
"And what are you planning on doing with it? Only shoot in self-defense? Kill in self-defense? Or are you planning on killing ten people?" His voice was flat. Not out of anger or hate, but because he didn't know what emotion he felt, if any.
Gabriela could defend herself. Gabriela was on a different team. What was he supposed to feel?
No, that wasn't right. There were sounds; breaking waves, seagulls squawking, distant shouting. None of them reached Elliott-Blair. It all came in a high-pitched hum.
He didn't move. Neither did Gabriela.
Silence.
Gabriela blinked first. She let out some sort of strangled noise that dissolved into a laugh (or was it a sob? He couldn't tell). She was upset, that was for certain, but he didn't know what to do. He never knew what to, he was terrible at comforting people.
Gabriela lowered her gun, and the humming noise died down.
You could die. The thought was sudden and loud. The hell was he doing anyway, staring at ships that weren't part of the arena. The arena. Of Survival of the Fittest. This wasn't a dream.
Was it?
You could die.
Elliott-Blair's name was called, snapping him from his thoughts. Gabriela was berating him for being so stupid, that if it wasn't her with the gun he'd be dead.
So she...wasn't going to shoot him? Was it because he was her friend?
but she's wearing a different bandana what's stopping her from shooting him right now he's her enemy she's the enemy—
"You got a gun," Elliott-Blair said. He repeatedly extended and collapsed his spyglass, feeling every twist and click with his hands.
"And what are you planning on doing with it? Only shoot in self-defense? Kill in self-defense? Or are you planning on killing ten people?" His voice was flat. Not out of anger or hate, but because he didn't know what emotion he felt, if any.
Gabriela could defend herself. Gabriela was on a different team. What was he supposed to feel?
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Catche Jagger
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- Team Affiliation: Ben's Crabs
It wasn’t exactly the warmest reunion, but Gabriela should’ve expected that. She was the one that set the tone, after all.
“Yeah Elliott, yeah. I got a gun.” She did let out a sincere laugh at that, the fact that she’d gotten so lucky on the weapon draw but couldn’t help but squander it. It was pretty fucking pathetic. Gabriela closely examined the pistol that she still held in her hand, though she wasn’t really sure what she was looking for.
The actual question Elliott posed, though, was actually quite difficult to answer. Should she tell him? Let him know what a failure she was? There wasn’t much harm in it now. She’d already failed to follow through and decided that she couldn’t shoot Elliott when it came right down to it.
“Well, yeah. I, uh, was going to do it. Go for the ten, I mean. I don’t know. I’m still working it out.” She sighed, only now slowly turning to properly face Elliott again, watching as he fiddled with the spyglass in his hands.
And what the hell was Elliott going to do? Out here he was pretty much doomed with that weapon draw and few useful skills. He’d need to find his teammates and fast if he wanted to stand any sort of chance;
“How about you?” Gabriela cleared her throat, keeping her voice as steady as she could. She needed to keep a level head and a cool attitude. That was the kind of shit that kept you safe in a pinch. Letting herself get too tripped up, even if she was just with Elliott, would just be asking for trouble.
“What are you gonna do, Elliott?”
“Yeah Elliott, yeah. I got a gun.” She did let out a sincere laugh at that, the fact that she’d gotten so lucky on the weapon draw but couldn’t help but squander it. It was pretty fucking pathetic. Gabriela closely examined the pistol that she still held in her hand, though she wasn’t really sure what she was looking for.
The actual question Elliott posed, though, was actually quite difficult to answer. Should she tell him? Let him know what a failure she was? There wasn’t much harm in it now. She’d already failed to follow through and decided that she couldn’t shoot Elliott when it came right down to it.
“Well, yeah. I, uh, was going to do it. Go for the ten, I mean. I don’t know. I’m still working it out.” She sighed, only now slowly turning to properly face Elliott again, watching as he fiddled with the spyglass in his hands.
And what the hell was Elliott going to do? Out here he was pretty much doomed with that weapon draw and few useful skills. He’d need to find his teammates and fast if he wanted to stand any sort of chance;
“How about you?” Gabriela cleared her throat, keeping her voice as steady as she could. She needed to keep a level head and a cool attitude. That was the kind of shit that kept you safe in a pinch. Letting herself get too tripped up, even if she was just with Elliott, would just be asking for trouble.
“What are you gonna do, Elliott?”
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RetroVenus
- Posts: 117
- Joined: Mon Nov 04, 2019 1:40 pm
- Location: isekai'd
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Gabriela laughed at Elliott-Blair's obvious statement. A real, genuine laugh, not that strange sob-like noise she was making before.
It was enough to calm his nerves, if only for a moment. He needed to focus; giving in to terror would only make his (inevitable?) death come sooner. She was on a different team and was currently examining her gun, but she would not shoot him. She would not.
Gabriela answered Elliott-Blair's question, finally turning to face him in a show of trust. But her answer did nothing but cause the dread he was in the process of fighting off to seep back in. So, Gabriela gets the opportunity to kill ten people and earn her freedom that way. Meanwhile all Elliott-Blair could do was hide behind his teammates. And what happens when they all get killed off, leaving him alone?
Gabriela asked the question of the hour: What are you going to do, Elliott? What the fuck can you do?
Elliott-Blair looked to the floor, watching as the water splashed against his platform boots.
But.
There was something he could do.
The ten-kill rule had a twist this time around, didn't it? Upon scoring your tenth kill, you can select another student to be released instead. Presumably you could still leave anyway should your team be the last one standing.
If...if Gabriela really went through with this and scored ten kills, then—
The words spilled out before Elliott-Blair could stop them, "Could you really do it? Kill ten people, I mean."
He looked up at Gabriela, fighting off the urge to frantically fiddle with his spyglass. He was on national television, he needed to make himself look innocent (what? why do you care about that?).
"Gabby, you—you know who these people are. We're all from the same school. Could you go home knowing you took the lives of ten classmates?"
He hoped this would work (what would work?).
It was enough to calm his nerves, if only for a moment. He needed to focus; giving in to terror would only make his (inevitable?) death come sooner. She was on a different team and was currently examining her gun, but she would not shoot him. She would not.
Gabriela answered Elliott-Blair's question, finally turning to face him in a show of trust. But her answer did nothing but cause the dread he was in the process of fighting off to seep back in. So, Gabriela gets the opportunity to kill ten people and earn her freedom that way. Meanwhile all Elliott-Blair could do was hide behind his teammates. And what happens when they all get killed off, leaving him alone?
Gabriela asked the question of the hour: What are you going to do, Elliott? What the fuck can you do?
Elliott-Blair looked to the floor, watching as the water splashed against his platform boots.
But.
There was something he could do.
The ten-kill rule had a twist this time around, didn't it? Upon scoring your tenth kill, you can select another student to be released instead. Presumably you could still leave anyway should your team be the last one standing.
If...if Gabriela really went through with this and scored ten kills, then—
The words spilled out before Elliott-Blair could stop them, "Could you really do it? Kill ten people, I mean."
He looked up at Gabriela, fighting off the urge to frantically fiddle with his spyglass. He was on national television, he needed to make himself look innocent (what? why do you care about that?).
"Gabby, you—you know who these people are. We're all from the same school. Could you go home knowing you took the lives of ten classmates?"
He hoped this would work (what would work?).
avatar by pan, sprite by the wonderful Yugikun
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Catche Jagger
- Posts: 743
- Joined: Tue May 28, 2019 7:40 pm
- Team Affiliation: Ben's Crabs
Elliott didn’t answer her question, instead getting too hung up on the whole ten kills idea.
“I don’t fucking know, Elliott! I mean, fuck, I haven’t killed yet. I’m still working on it, alright?” Gabriela snapped at him, irritated at the fact that she was going to get interrogated over this whole thing.
She needed to relax, though. Her friend was probably scared shitless, stuck in this situation without really knowing a way out.
“Look, it sucks to say, but unless there’s some Season Sixty-esque disaster where production manages to screw this shit up, basically everyone here is going to die anyway. Like, best case scenario is maybe some team manages a clean sweep and they all get to go home or something like that, but team shit has meant fuck all in the past two seasons.
“What I’m saying… unless we’re going to hope for some miracle, not killing is just trying to pretend away the inevitable.” She explained, her voice easier, trying to stay calm as she laid it all out for Elliott.
Still, there was a thought that nagged at the back of her mind: Elliott dying is still part of that inevitability, isn’t it?
Gabriela didn’t want to think about that right now. Elliott could still find his team, and maybe they could help him get to the end. No… that line was bullshit and she knew it.
“I don’t fucking know, Elliott! I mean, fuck, I haven’t killed yet. I’m still working on it, alright?” Gabriela snapped at him, irritated at the fact that she was going to get interrogated over this whole thing.
She needed to relax, though. Her friend was probably scared shitless, stuck in this situation without really knowing a way out.
“Look, it sucks to say, but unless there’s some Season Sixty-esque disaster where production manages to screw this shit up, basically everyone here is going to die anyway. Like, best case scenario is maybe some team manages a clean sweep and they all get to go home or something like that, but team shit has meant fuck all in the past two seasons.
“What I’m saying… unless we’re going to hope for some miracle, not killing is just trying to pretend away the inevitable.” She explained, her voice easier, trying to stay calm as she laid it all out for Elliott.
Still, there was a thought that nagged at the back of her mind: Elliott dying is still part of that inevitability, isn’t it?
Gabriela didn’t want to think about that right now. Elliott could still find his team, and maybe they could help him get to the end. No… that line was bullshit and she knew it.