Uncle Sam Says
Uncle Sam Says
"Hup."
One two
"Hup."
three four
"Hup."
one two
Caleb was working out, laying down in the middle of the circle of stones to, of all things, do sit-ups.
It helped him think, get his head straight.
Next to him was his bag, which had been opened, searched through, and shut again without much remark when he'd first woken up halfway underneath a gorse bush. Draped over one of the standing stones was his draw, which Caleb wasn't entirely sure was supposed to be a joke or actually useful.
So. Program.
That was kind've a bitch.
It was a bit of a shock to the system, overall. Sure, Caleb had always thought that theoretically, he'd be willing to show his patriotism and determination in a life or death situation. He just hadn't expected that it would be, well, now.
That felt slightly unfair. Caleb had already wanted to join the military, making even make a career out of it, like his parents - and heck, not on a home guard posting, out on the fronts! Those places like Russia, Britain, that he'd only ever heard about on the news but sounded dangerous and exciting. Seemed a bit pointless to look around for cameras and say "Aww, c'mon, I'll promise I'll be good if you let me out", though...
Yeah. This sucked. It was one thing asking him to knock off y'know, the morons, the kids who couldn't take a joke. Like, it wasn't nice but it wasn't like they'd be all that missed. But come ooon. Some of his bros were involved in this whole deal - that wasn't cool! As well as that Caleb had seen some people around and heard some names called that he sure as heck didn't deserve getting told to take out. Like... Zora, what the shit did she ever do to anyone? Or... well like, Callahan, who was a real American Way kind've dude. Fun to play sports with, even if Caleb hadn't been that great at Football.
Caleb straightened up into a sitting position, staring into space with sweat shining on his brow. He'd thought about putting on either the weird onesie or the jacket he'd found in his bag, but instead had elected to just run for a bit, get his temperature up. Right now he was still wearing his Bucks shirt and a pair of shorts. So how was this going to play out?
His parents had always told him - government came first, government knew what was best. They were soldiers, and putting faith in the General had never steered them wrong. Now the General, via that Adams guy, was telling him - Program time dude, better pull your socks up and get right down to it. But could Caleb do that? Like, be a cold mother-lover and just go right on after people just because that's what he was told to do?
Shit. He didn't know. Any other time, he'd put Uncle Sam in front of everything. Wouldn't necessarily like it, but he'd trust him. But here... christ - what was Caleb going to do, strangle people with his bare hands? That was straight up psycho, man, like, completely nuts, the type of thing that got you put in a penal legion 'til some gibberish-spouting foreigner put a bullet in you. Yet here, that was supposed to be okay.
Dammit.
Caleb picked himself up. He just didn't know... and he needed time. Maybe someone in front of him, see if he suddenly felt a bit like a slasher villain then. He pictured himself in one of those 'GIs hunted down by malevolent enemy' type things, but try as he may, he couldn't imagine himself being anything other than one of the bunch of squaddies getting picked off one by one. Who knew, maybe he could be the good guy, here.
He really wished a couple of those rocks had a pull-up bar strung between them...
One two
"Hup."
three four
"Hup."
one two
Caleb was working out, laying down in the middle of the circle of stones to, of all things, do sit-ups.
It helped him think, get his head straight.
Next to him was his bag, which had been opened, searched through, and shut again without much remark when he'd first woken up halfway underneath a gorse bush. Draped over one of the standing stones was his draw, which Caleb wasn't entirely sure was supposed to be a joke or actually useful.
So. Program.
That was kind've a bitch.
It was a bit of a shock to the system, overall. Sure, Caleb had always thought that theoretically, he'd be willing to show his patriotism and determination in a life or death situation. He just hadn't expected that it would be, well, now.
That felt slightly unfair. Caleb had already wanted to join the military, making even make a career out of it, like his parents - and heck, not on a home guard posting, out on the fronts! Those places like Russia, Britain, that he'd only ever heard about on the news but sounded dangerous and exciting. Seemed a bit pointless to look around for cameras and say "Aww, c'mon, I'll promise I'll be good if you let me out", though...
Yeah. This sucked. It was one thing asking him to knock off y'know, the morons, the kids who couldn't take a joke. Like, it wasn't nice but it wasn't like they'd be all that missed. But come ooon. Some of his bros were involved in this whole deal - that wasn't cool! As well as that Caleb had seen some people around and heard some names called that he sure as heck didn't deserve getting told to take out. Like... Zora, what the shit did she ever do to anyone? Or... well like, Callahan, who was a real American Way kind've dude. Fun to play sports with, even if Caleb hadn't been that great at Football.
Caleb straightened up into a sitting position, staring into space with sweat shining on his brow. He'd thought about putting on either the weird onesie or the jacket he'd found in his bag, but instead had elected to just run for a bit, get his temperature up. Right now he was still wearing his Bucks shirt and a pair of shorts. So how was this going to play out?
His parents had always told him - government came first, government knew what was best. They were soldiers, and putting faith in the General had never steered them wrong. Now the General, via that Adams guy, was telling him - Program time dude, better pull your socks up and get right down to it. But could Caleb do that? Like, be a cold mother-lover and just go right on after people just because that's what he was told to do?
Shit. He didn't know. Any other time, he'd put Uncle Sam in front of everything. Wouldn't necessarily like it, but he'd trust him. But here... christ - what was Caleb going to do, strangle people with his bare hands? That was straight up psycho, man, like, completely nuts, the type of thing that got you put in a penal legion 'til some gibberish-spouting foreigner put a bullet in you. Yet here, that was supposed to be okay.
Dammit.
Caleb picked himself up. He just didn't know... and he needed time. Maybe someone in front of him, see if he suddenly felt a bit like a slasher villain then. He pictured himself in one of those 'GIs hunted down by malevolent enemy' type things, but try as he may, he couldn't imagine himself being anything other than one of the bunch of squaddies getting picked off one by one. Who knew, maybe he could be the good guy, here.
He really wished a couple of those rocks had a pull-up bar strung between them...
The day started like any other. Steph woke up to the smell of waffles, her favourite. This routine happened every year on Announcement Day her parents spoiling her, worse than usual that is. She felt stifled as she sat in the car, she enjoyed her breakfast but felt annoyed by her parents mollycoddling her and looking adoringly at her whilst she was trying to eat.
As she sat in the car she stared out the window lost in thought. In her mind she calculated the rough chances of her school being chosen. The monotony of this exercise soothed her mind as she came to the conclusion, like every other year, that her chances were so small as to be nigh on discountable. As she stepped out the car she tried to ignore her mother's saccharine goodbye as well as the use of her hated nickname. How was she supposed to keep up her image as an ice queen with that going on? Composing herself, from a wave of panic and sentimentality produced by the car pulling away and the thought she may never see them again. Entering the yard she ignored the screen moving over her to her friends and leaning nonchalantly against the wall. As first the school was called then her name she tried to keep her face composed and thought one thing... logic has fatally failed me.
F06 Stephanie Moon start
Steph's eyes flicked open, she was vaguely aware of a dull throbbing in the back of her head. She moved her head to look around at her surroundings but regretted it instantly as the throbbing pain turned into a wave of nausea. Closing her eyes made the sickness pass temporarily, she guessed it was a side effect of the drug. In fact she felt relatively okay, as much as you can when fighting for your life, as she lay on the ground. Maybe if she just lay here everyone would assume she was dead and leave her alone.
Moving slowly she peered around the area: she seemed to be lying in the undergrowth underneath a rock. It seems she was sufficiently hidden whilst lying down, in the near distance below her was a stone circle in a clearing. She was elevated slightly on the slope of the valley overlooking the circle, hidden by a rocky outcrop. The presence of the stone circle on the valley floor below her made her feel like a sacrificial victim, strangely appropriate her mind thought. Her fringe was stuck to her forehead with the dew and she pushed it out her eyes.As she became more awake she was aware of a grunting sound in front of her. Looking around she spotted a guy, his back to her, involved in working out. She recognised him as a fellow sports star, in fact as she thought about it she remembered him as a bit of a joker, and was about to call out. However, her brain screamed out, she didn't know him that well and had no reason to trust him he may be a killer for all she knew turning it into a strangled squeaky sound.
She was conflicted part of her mind telling her she needed allies another saying she was the only one worth relying on. As she moved to get a better look her back bumped into a solid object. Turning round she found her pack, maybe she would get a teleporter she thought hopefully. Again, her mind discounted the idea as soon as she thought it and she felt slightly stupid. This feeling was compounded when her hand closed on her weapon, a brick...fantastic she thought sarcastically. I can build a house as it is such prime estate and settle down or a bridge out the valley maybe. As she pulled the brick out she discovered she hadn't even been considered worthy of a whole brick. Half a brick...wonderful this day is getting better and better Steph thought.
As she sat in the car she stared out the window lost in thought. In her mind she calculated the rough chances of her school being chosen. The monotony of this exercise soothed her mind as she came to the conclusion, like every other year, that her chances were so small as to be nigh on discountable. As she stepped out the car she tried to ignore her mother's saccharine goodbye as well as the use of her hated nickname. How was she supposed to keep up her image as an ice queen with that going on? Composing herself, from a wave of panic and sentimentality produced by the car pulling away and the thought she may never see them again. Entering the yard she ignored the screen moving over her to her friends and leaning nonchalantly against the wall. As first the school was called then her name she tried to keep her face composed and thought one thing... logic has fatally failed me.
F06 Stephanie Moon start
Steph's eyes flicked open, she was vaguely aware of a dull throbbing in the back of her head. She moved her head to look around at her surroundings but regretted it instantly as the throbbing pain turned into a wave of nausea. Closing her eyes made the sickness pass temporarily, she guessed it was a side effect of the drug. In fact she felt relatively okay, as much as you can when fighting for your life, as she lay on the ground. Maybe if she just lay here everyone would assume she was dead and leave her alone.
Moving slowly she peered around the area: she seemed to be lying in the undergrowth underneath a rock. It seems she was sufficiently hidden whilst lying down, in the near distance below her was a stone circle in a clearing. She was elevated slightly on the slope of the valley overlooking the circle, hidden by a rocky outcrop. The presence of the stone circle on the valley floor below her made her feel like a sacrificial victim, strangely appropriate her mind thought. Her fringe was stuck to her forehead with the dew and she pushed it out her eyes.As she became more awake she was aware of a grunting sound in front of her. Looking around she spotted a guy, his back to her, involved in working out. She recognised him as a fellow sports star, in fact as she thought about it she remembered him as a bit of a joker, and was about to call out. However, her brain screamed out, she didn't know him that well and had no reason to trust him he may be a killer for all she knew turning it into a strangled squeaky sound.
She was conflicted part of her mind telling her she needed allies another saying she was the only one worth relying on. As she moved to get a better look her back bumped into a solid object. Turning round she found her pack, maybe she would get a teleporter she thought hopefully. Again, her mind discounted the idea as soon as she thought it and she felt slightly stupid. This feeling was compounded when her hand closed on her weapon, a brick...fantastic she thought sarcastically. I can build a house as it is such prime estate and settle down or a bridge out the valley maybe. As she pulled the brick out she discovered she hadn't even been considered worthy of a whole brick. Half a brick...wonderful this day is getting better and better Steph thought.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler aristeia. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Caleb was stooping to grab his bag by the strap when he heard the sound. It was... under normal circumstances it would have been something that he'd just dismiss as an animal or a bird or something, cause it wasn't like he was an expert when it came to wildlife. Here, though, it gave him pause. Now, he couldn't be totally sure, but it had seemed almost like somebody getting shocked or surprised, but trying to stay quiet.
He hesitated and then straightened up, bringing the pack with him. A moment later, he turned, peering past the standing stones and trying to work out a vague area that the sound could've come from. It could have just been an animal... but... well it really depended, didn't it? Somebody could've been jumped, though he wasn't sure somebody getting jumped would just make a little sound and then nothing else. Otherwise... someone was watching?
Dammit, he couldn't tell for sure, just guess. He didn't have like, freaking ESP.
For the first time, Caleb was actually feeling a little bit of concern. So... okay, he'd been thinking about whether or not HE should do what the government told him, but who was to say other people hadn't been having the same little discussions in their heads? That thought took him aback. I mean, sure, he was one of the All-American guys, pro their country, but what if someone else decided that being in the Program meant taking everyone out, even people like Caleb? That was kind've what Program was supposed to be about...
C'mon, Caleb... you're not some kind of sissy kid. You have the balls to call someone out.
"Hey, yo!" Caleb's voice rang out calm, strong. "If someone's out there, how 'bout you quit hiding and show your face, huh?"
He waited, shuffled slightly to one side to put one of the rocks a little more between him and the outside of the circle.
He hesitated and then straightened up, bringing the pack with him. A moment later, he turned, peering past the standing stones and trying to work out a vague area that the sound could've come from. It could have just been an animal... but... well it really depended, didn't it? Somebody could've been jumped, though he wasn't sure somebody getting jumped would just make a little sound and then nothing else. Otherwise... someone was watching?
Dammit, he couldn't tell for sure, just guess. He didn't have like, freaking ESP.
For the first time, Caleb was actually feeling a little bit of concern. So... okay, he'd been thinking about whether or not HE should do what the government told him, but who was to say other people hadn't been having the same little discussions in their heads? That thought took him aback. I mean, sure, he was one of the All-American guys, pro their country, but what if someone else decided that being in the Program meant taking everyone out, even people like Caleb? That was kind've what Program was supposed to be about...
C'mon, Caleb... you're not some kind of sissy kid. You have the balls to call someone out.
"Hey, yo!" Caleb's voice rang out calm, strong. "If someone's out there, how 'bout you quit hiding and show your face, huh?"
He waited, shuffled slightly to one side to put one of the rocks a little more between him and the outside of the circle.
Steph recoiled when she heard the voice demanding she showed herself. He sounded confident she was in trouble...this was the end. Killed cowering under a rock what a proud legacy to leave to the world she thought. In her head she thought through the options if she didn't reply he would probably come looking for her and the ramifications of that were potentially very serious, almost certainly she would be assumed to be a threat hiding to try and kill him. On the other hand if she stopped hiding she could at least give her side of events. Hmm tough choice get killed under a rock or get killed trying to explain you were only being cowardly and meant no harm.
After what seemed like minutes of shaking, trying to compose herself and come to a decision she rolled out from her sanctuary. In reality it had been a few seconds, the most important thing was she sounded confident and yet not threatening. With no real idea how to fulfil that brief she instead walked out her hands raised and what she hoped was a calm expression on her face not a mirror of the terror she felt inside.
"Don't shoot...well shoot or stab or use your weapon in a way which is detrimental to my health...well in fact use anything in a way which is detrimental to my health" She knew she was rambling but her tongue and her brain seemed to have become strangely disconnected and she wasn't sure how to remedy the situation.
That wasn't enough she needed to explain herself she chastised herself "Look Caleb, I can call you Caleb right that is fine I figured there is no need for formality here of all places. I don't mean you any harm I wasn't lurking or anything I only just woke up from the drugs."
She knew her terror was getting the better of her and she better quit while she was ahead...well not too far behind. She could barely bring herself to look up and see his reaction but still tried to keep her expression calm and composed.
After what seemed like minutes of shaking, trying to compose herself and come to a decision she rolled out from her sanctuary. In reality it had been a few seconds, the most important thing was she sounded confident and yet not threatening. With no real idea how to fulfil that brief she instead walked out her hands raised and what she hoped was a calm expression on her face not a mirror of the terror she felt inside.
"Don't shoot...well shoot or stab or use your weapon in a way which is detrimental to my health...well in fact use anything in a way which is detrimental to my health" She knew she was rambling but her tongue and her brain seemed to have become strangely disconnected and she wasn't sure how to remedy the situation.
That wasn't enough she needed to explain herself she chastised herself "Look Caleb, I can call you Caleb right that is fine I figured there is no need for formality here of all places. I don't mean you any harm I wasn't lurking or anything I only just woke up from the drugs."
She knew her terror was getting the better of her and she better quit while she was ahead...well not too far behind. She could barely bring herself to look up and see his reaction but still tried to keep her expression calm and composed.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler aristeia. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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((Dylan Walker continued from Miles To Go Before I Sleep.))
Dylan could see the rocks of the Stone Circle in the distance. Huh. She was back. Well, great, she'd gone in a circle, from the circle right back to the circle. Stupid circle. Stupid rocks. Stupid valley. Stupid Minstrel not shooting Beaner Girl and leaving a spare gun for Dylan to pick up. (And possibly shoot Minstrel with so that she would learn a lesson about being a fucking idiot.)
Bright side...
Uh…
There was totally a bright side somewhere. Like the fact that she still wasn't dead (a fact that was starting to bemuse her a little, actually.) And she'd heard the gunshot. Louisa had clearly sucked at talking Clara down. Not that Dylan had looked back to check, she wasn't stupid. But if Louisa had been hit and subsequently killed, that just meant one student down. Which was great for Dylan. Maybe she could just hide up a tree until enough people were dead—no, she'd need supplies for that.
Stupid Maxi-Pad. Stupid Beaner Girl. Buncha jerks, the lot of them.
Dylan dug her stick into the ground, still using it as support. She felt... a little less dizzy now. Maybe the water had helped. ...She'd left the water bottle in the clearing as well. Bummer. She really needed to find a non-looted corpse soon. Or loot someone alive, but there was no way she could do that without a gun or something really sharp—oh shit, more people!
Dylan had finally gotten close enough to see people. People staring over rocks at each other. She couldn't see any guns. Thank god. Still, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be seen by these people, they might be concealing weaponry in their pockets. But she was already out in the open, and running would look bad.
If I approach all casual-like, maybe they'll think I'm not a threat. ...Which, admittedly, I'm not. But it's not like that's my choice or anything. Now. What does one say to fellow contestants in a game of death...
“...Uh. Sup?” Dylan said nervously, once she was within earshot. She leaned on the stick and hoped no-one pulled a minigun out of their pockets or something.
Dylan could see the rocks of the Stone Circle in the distance. Huh. She was back. Well, great, she'd gone in a circle, from the circle right back to the circle. Stupid circle. Stupid rocks. Stupid valley. Stupid Minstrel not shooting Beaner Girl and leaving a spare gun for Dylan to pick up. (And possibly shoot Minstrel with so that she would learn a lesson about being a fucking idiot.)
Bright side...
Uh…
There was totally a bright side somewhere. Like the fact that she still wasn't dead (a fact that was starting to bemuse her a little, actually.) And she'd heard the gunshot. Louisa had clearly sucked at talking Clara down. Not that Dylan had looked back to check, she wasn't stupid. But if Louisa had been hit and subsequently killed, that just meant one student down. Which was great for Dylan. Maybe she could just hide up a tree until enough people were dead—no, she'd need supplies for that.
Stupid Maxi-Pad. Stupid Beaner Girl. Buncha jerks, the lot of them.
Dylan dug her stick into the ground, still using it as support. She felt... a little less dizzy now. Maybe the water had helped. ...She'd left the water bottle in the clearing as well. Bummer. She really needed to find a non-looted corpse soon. Or loot someone alive, but there was no way she could do that without a gun or something really sharp—oh shit, more people!
Dylan had finally gotten close enough to see people. People staring over rocks at each other. She couldn't see any guns. Thank god. Still, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be seen by these people, they might be concealing weaponry in their pockets. But she was already out in the open, and running would look bad.
If I approach all casual-like, maybe they'll think I'm not a threat. ...Which, admittedly, I'm not. But it's not like that's my choice or anything. Now. What does one say to fellow contestants in a game of death...
“...Uh. Sup?” Dylan said nervously, once she was within earshot. She leaned on the stick and hoped no-one pulled a minigun out of their pockets or something.
The wait stretched on, and on, and on. Caleb started to wonder if he really had just been hearing some of the local wildlife. That or someone was lining up a shot and he was a couple of seconds out from having a porthole put in his skull. Eesh. Fucking Program, making him all paranoid. He'd already burned off most of the peace he'd got from working out. Maybe that had just been a distraction. Meh.
Just as Caleb was trying to decide between dismissing the noise entirely and diving for cover... a figure popped up from behind an outcropping of rock in the near distance. When it became apparent that they weren't toting some kind've rocket launcher, Caleb started squinting, trying to ascertain who he was looking at. Then she spoke, and he worked it out. Bright blonde hair plus that kind've voice...
Moon, Stephanie Moon. Played a lot of sports too. Not necessarily Caleb's kind've sports, but more than the sort've 'oh teach said I should take something' lame duck sport where they just did it 'cause they didn't want to look bad. That made her... well, not GOOD people in his book, but people he knew about, which was worth something at least. Couldn't say Stephanie was at the top of his people to meet here but... well how did that even work? It would be nice to know someone like say... Marley was around, cool guy, buddy of his, but did Caleb really WANT his buddies around when he'd been told to kill them? That was a pretty raw deal.
Moon was... antsy, which he supposed shouldn't have been such a big surprise to him. She didn't want him to hurt her. Well, yeah, Caleb didn't want her to hurt him either. That made them friends or something.
...Nah, that was stupid.
Caleb waited for her to finish before saying anything, gave him time to actually think about what was being said here. She sounded skittish, said a lot without actually meaning much more than, well, let's not get violent.
It felt weird. What he'd been told, been ordered, was specifically TO get violent, but... well, c'mon. Moon wasn't that bad. What'd they expect, to clobber someone to death just 'cause they'd both been picked. It didn't seem right to him, really. Course, it was easy to say that at this distance... maybe it would be different if she was right there in front of him, and it was him or her.
Fuck.
Caleb opted to shrug. "Haven't really got much reason to right now, do I?" left unsaid was 'so don't give me one'. In an odd way, her lack of confidence boosted his. He wasn't sure what the hell he was doing, but look, someone else wasn't doing too hot either.
Then, someone else. Caleb... started to turn around, then thought better of putting his back completely to Moon. He shifted another step closer to the standing stone, and looked in the direction of the voice.
Oh it was... that... that chick with the... hair. Shit, he knew who she was, just.
Nah, fuck it, didn't matter right now. She looked hurt, had a bandage around her head... which was going to gain her exactly zero sympathy from Caleb in his current 'not-quite-pissy but not-all-sunshine-and-roses' mood.
"What the dick do you want?"
Just as Caleb was trying to decide between dismissing the noise entirely and diving for cover... a figure popped up from behind an outcropping of rock in the near distance. When it became apparent that they weren't toting some kind've rocket launcher, Caleb started squinting, trying to ascertain who he was looking at. Then she spoke, and he worked it out. Bright blonde hair plus that kind've voice...
Moon, Stephanie Moon. Played a lot of sports too. Not necessarily Caleb's kind've sports, but more than the sort've 'oh teach said I should take something' lame duck sport where they just did it 'cause they didn't want to look bad. That made her... well, not GOOD people in his book, but people he knew about, which was worth something at least. Couldn't say Stephanie was at the top of his people to meet here but... well how did that even work? It would be nice to know someone like say... Marley was around, cool guy, buddy of his, but did Caleb really WANT his buddies around when he'd been told to kill them? That was a pretty raw deal.
Moon was... antsy, which he supposed shouldn't have been such a big surprise to him. She didn't want him to hurt her. Well, yeah, Caleb didn't want her to hurt him either. That made them friends or something.
...Nah, that was stupid.
Caleb waited for her to finish before saying anything, gave him time to actually think about what was being said here. She sounded skittish, said a lot without actually meaning much more than, well, let's not get violent.
It felt weird. What he'd been told, been ordered, was specifically TO get violent, but... well, c'mon. Moon wasn't that bad. What'd they expect, to clobber someone to death just 'cause they'd both been picked. It didn't seem right to him, really. Course, it was easy to say that at this distance... maybe it would be different if she was right there in front of him, and it was him or her.
Fuck.
Caleb opted to shrug. "Haven't really got much reason to right now, do I?" left unsaid was 'so don't give me one'. In an odd way, her lack of confidence boosted his. He wasn't sure what the hell he was doing, but look, someone else wasn't doing too hot either.
Then, someone else. Caleb... started to turn around, then thought better of putting his back completely to Moon. He shifted another step closer to the standing stone, and looked in the direction of the voice.
Oh it was... that... that chick with the... hair. Shit, he knew who she was, just.
Nah, fuck it, didn't matter right now. She looked hurt, had a bandage around her head... which was going to gain her exactly zero sympathy from Caleb in his current 'not-quite-pissy but not-all-sunshine-and-roses' mood.
"What the dick do you want?"
Steph finally bought her eyes up to meet Caleb's. He looked pretty confident but his response at least suggested an unwillingness to immediately harm her. His statement whilst short and fairly blunt, fairly indicative of him she felt, gave the hint that her next move would decide how well, if at all, she got out of this situation. She wondered what could become of this situation an alliance seemed unlikely best case scenario she left here with all limbs present and correct without making any enemies. It did however raise the wider issue of what her plan should be, long term how should she play?
She had no desire to kill anyone else so she probably needed assistance going alone rarely worked out, getting some allies together seemed a sensible goal. Maybe they could come up with a plan to get out of here. It was therefore a question of who could she trust, on reflection she probably should have made more effort with her class mates. Her allies list was looking to be shorter than a crouching dwarf at this rate...besides Jas, her best friend, it seems she would have to be pragmatic about relations. She was torn between sadness her friend had to endure the situation too and relief she wasn't left alone. In fact finding her best friend seemed a solid tactic but first she had other matters to attend to.
Confident in her new plan Steph looked Caleb in the eye. Hell she wasn't going to sit here like some sort of damsel in distress whilst that boneheaded jock got a superiority complex because she was afraid. His smile and tone seemed to largely discount her, Steph tried to calm herself down this wasn't the time to be an idiot. She better say something, well something better than the word vomit she had managed before.
"Right, I better be off I have places to be sights to see. Good luck Caleb, oh you haven't seen Jasmine anywhere during your wandering by the way have you?"
She was about to leave when she heard a second voice trying to turn quickly to evaluate any new threat her foot stepped on a patch of wet leaves and before she knew what had happened she landed on her bum with a thump. It seemed she was rapidly turning into the clown of the program and her hurt pride desperately tried to think of a way out of this. At least I'm not showing myself to be a threat she thought. She went to tie her shoe lace in the pretence that she had deliberately knelt down to do so. She tried to act nonchalantly hoping he had been distracted by the second figure and somehow hadn't noticed her pratfall.
Looking up she recognised Dylan Walker, hmm today really is becoming a who's who of people I don't care about she thought. It wasn't that she wished any ill on them more that she was just fairly apathetic. Getting off her arse she tried not to blush as she started to head off in the opposite direction of the two people in front of her whilst still not turning her back to them. This proved tricky but she was stopped in her tracks when she saw Dylan more clearly, the girl was wounded, Steph was no medic but she could see it was a bad one.
"Jeez Dylan what happened? Well I can see you lost your ear but what I mean was who did this? Are you ok? Well as ok as you can be I guess?" she asked concern overriding her desire to leave the creepy stone circle.
She had no desire to kill anyone else so she probably needed assistance going alone rarely worked out, getting some allies together seemed a sensible goal. Maybe they could come up with a plan to get out of here. It was therefore a question of who could she trust, on reflection she probably should have made more effort with her class mates. Her allies list was looking to be shorter than a crouching dwarf at this rate...besides Jas, her best friend, it seems she would have to be pragmatic about relations. She was torn between sadness her friend had to endure the situation too and relief she wasn't left alone. In fact finding her best friend seemed a solid tactic but first she had other matters to attend to.
Confident in her new plan Steph looked Caleb in the eye. Hell she wasn't going to sit here like some sort of damsel in distress whilst that boneheaded jock got a superiority complex because she was afraid. His smile and tone seemed to largely discount her, Steph tried to calm herself down this wasn't the time to be an idiot. She better say something, well something better than the word vomit she had managed before.
"Right, I better be off I have places to be sights to see. Good luck Caleb, oh you haven't seen Jasmine anywhere during your wandering by the way have you?"
She was about to leave when she heard a second voice trying to turn quickly to evaluate any new threat her foot stepped on a patch of wet leaves and before she knew what had happened she landed on her bum with a thump. It seemed she was rapidly turning into the clown of the program and her hurt pride desperately tried to think of a way out of this. At least I'm not showing myself to be a threat she thought. She went to tie her shoe lace in the pretence that she had deliberately knelt down to do so. She tried to act nonchalantly hoping he had been distracted by the second figure and somehow hadn't noticed her pratfall.
Looking up she recognised Dylan Walker, hmm today really is becoming a who's who of people I don't care about she thought. It wasn't that she wished any ill on them more that she was just fairly apathetic. Getting off her arse she tried not to blush as she started to head off in the opposite direction of the two people in front of her whilst still not turning her back to them. This proved tricky but she was stopped in her tracks when she saw Dylan more clearly, the girl was wounded, Steph was no medic but she could see it was a bad one.
"Jeez Dylan what happened? Well I can see you lost your ear but what I mean was who did this? Are you ok? Well as ok as you can be I guess?" she asked concern overriding her desire to leave the creepy stone circle.
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Dylan walked a little closer, slowly and with the hand that wasn't clenching the stick raised to show that she wasn't holding a big, shiny weapon. The guy—who she recognised as some guy on the basketball team, though she couldn't remember the name—sounded kinda hostile. Straight to the point and not 'about-to-strangle-you hostile,' though, so that wasn't bad. Probably a smart attitude.
The girl... Stephanie? Hockey girl. Something like that. Sounded more concerned. More like Louisa. Were all the girls in this game bleeding hearts? 'Oh, what happened to your ear? Do you need any painkillers? Run while I shield you from bullets.' Dopey bunch of sympathizers. Though Dylan couldn't really complain about it...
“Uh... short version? Maxim's a dick, he shot my ear off, it hurts like hell but I'll live—well, the lack of an ear won't kill me, anyway—but he and some beaner bitch—Clara, I think?—also stole all my things, so I guess if you guys had any spare painkillers that'd be great. Otherwise, I'm just gonna go about my business. Not gonna shoot you guys. Lack of weaponry and all.”
She glanced at the both of them, scanning for weapons. She couldn't see Stephanie's weapon, but she was being all sympathetic so that signaled 'not going to immediately gun you down.' Meanwhile, Hostile Guy seemed to have some kind of onesie draped over a nearby rock. A camouflage onesie? Damn, that'd be pretty useful. Dylan wondered how hard it would be to grab it and run, but they were both sporty kids. They'd catch her and beat her with sticks.
From here, Dylan could see her rock. The one she'd doodled on and then subsequently bled all over. Her first instinct was to stay away from that fucking rock, but lying on the ground nearby was a lump of blue fabric. Her hat. It must have fallen off when she got shot, and she must have missed it while picking up her things.
She started to trot over to pick it up. Yeah, it wouldn't help much in the long run. But it was something familiar in this shitty valley and she'd take what she could get.
The girl... Stephanie? Hockey girl. Something like that. Sounded more concerned. More like Louisa. Were all the girls in this game bleeding hearts? 'Oh, what happened to your ear? Do you need any painkillers? Run while I shield you from bullets.' Dopey bunch of sympathizers. Though Dylan couldn't really complain about it...
“Uh... short version? Maxim's a dick, he shot my ear off, it hurts like hell but I'll live—well, the lack of an ear won't kill me, anyway—but he and some beaner bitch—Clara, I think?—also stole all my things, so I guess if you guys had any spare painkillers that'd be great. Otherwise, I'm just gonna go about my business. Not gonna shoot you guys. Lack of weaponry and all.”
She glanced at the both of them, scanning for weapons. She couldn't see Stephanie's weapon, but she was being all sympathetic so that signaled 'not going to immediately gun you down.' Meanwhile, Hostile Guy seemed to have some kind of onesie draped over a nearby rock. A camouflage onesie? Damn, that'd be pretty useful. Dylan wondered how hard it would be to grab it and run, but they were both sporty kids. They'd catch her and beat her with sticks.
From here, Dylan could see her rock. The one she'd doodled on and then subsequently bled all over. Her first instinct was to stay away from that fucking rock, but lying on the ground nearby was a lump of blue fabric. Her hat. It must have fallen off when she got shot, and she must have missed it while picking up her things.
She started to trot over to pick it up. Yeah, it wouldn't help much in the long run. But it was something familiar in this shitty valley and she'd take what she could get.
Anything with Moon obviously wasn't going to get off the ground. She had the jitters and Caleb didn't know her well enough to let that slide. There was nothing she could really offer him except for more doubts about what he was supposed to do, and those, he could quite frankly do without.
Her query just garnered another shrug from him. He knew, vaguely, who Stephanie meant, but she was the first person he'd seen so far, so... no, he hadn't seen Jasmine. You're not helpful, go away.
The new arrival on the other hand, she was - Dylan! Right, that was her name. The one that always said she was like, tanned or some shit like that when she was blatantly black. Caleb was tanned - you weren't that dark just from sunshine. Whatever, not important, more important, she actually had something to add, unlike Moon.
Now... Maxim. There was a name that rang bells. Had some kind of dumb chip on his shoulder about making nice with coloured kids who weren't so American. Like, what the shit was that supposed to prove? It was pretty obvious that some people didn't have the same background as others... and if they were less American then they were less American and should be able to take some ribbing for it. But no, Maxim had to be some kind've hero, 'cause that wasn't okay. What a stiff.
Apparently though, Mr. Hardass had taken a potshot at one of 'his' people. That was new, wasn't it. Made Caleb think - a lot. If someone like that was going to just, y'know, turn his back on those high and mighty principles of his, that was worth taking note of. This thing got to people quick... maybe it was just the fact of having a gun, maybe if Caleb had got one he wouldn't have said hi to Moon, just blasted her.
...Maybe.
Caleb folded his arms and leaned against the standing stone, watching Dylan. He could see she was bandaged, lost an ear. Damn, that was pretty hardcore.
"Sounds shitty. Guess you ain't black enough to be in Maxim's special love club or something."
Her query just garnered another shrug from him. He knew, vaguely, who Stephanie meant, but she was the first person he'd seen so far, so... no, he hadn't seen Jasmine. You're not helpful, go away.
The new arrival on the other hand, she was - Dylan! Right, that was her name. The one that always said she was like, tanned or some shit like that when she was blatantly black. Caleb was tanned - you weren't that dark just from sunshine. Whatever, not important, more important, she actually had something to add, unlike Moon.
Now... Maxim. There was a name that rang bells. Had some kind of dumb chip on his shoulder about making nice with coloured kids who weren't so American. Like, what the shit was that supposed to prove? It was pretty obvious that some people didn't have the same background as others... and if they were less American then they were less American and should be able to take some ribbing for it. But no, Maxim had to be some kind've hero, 'cause that wasn't okay. What a stiff.
Apparently though, Mr. Hardass had taken a potshot at one of 'his' people. That was new, wasn't it. Made Caleb think - a lot. If someone like that was going to just, y'know, turn his back on those high and mighty principles of his, that was worth taking note of. This thing got to people quick... maybe it was just the fact of having a gun, maybe if Caleb had got one he wouldn't have said hi to Moon, just blasted her.
...Maybe.
Caleb folded his arms and leaned against the standing stone, watching Dylan. He could see she was bandaged, lost an ear. Damn, that was pretty hardcore.
"Sounds shitty. Guess you ain't black enough to be in Maxim's special love club or something."
Strengthened in her resolve Steph knew it was time to leave. She had wasted far too much time with these nobodies it was time to go. She had better things to do then talk about whether Dylan met Maxim's standards to be considered a minority or was, as she claimed, simply tanned. Besides this could get nasty and definitely wasn't worth getting involved in. However, she would have to bear her in mind that Maxim was playing, if Dylan was to be believed, and be wary if she saw him: kitty's got claws Steph thought to herself.
"Right, not that this isn't lovely and all but I'm going to have to love you and leave you guys." With that she gave the other two an ironic salute and proceeded to leave the area.
As she walked out the clearing it occurred to her she didn't have a destination in mind. Now it would be almost impossible to work out where her friend had gone, too many unknown variables. Making sure she was out of sight she stopped and checked the map from her pack to see where was the best , to say nothing of safest, place to start her search. Having reached a cursory decision she repacked her bag and headed off into the unknown
(Stephanie Moon continued in Inventory Check )
"Right, not that this isn't lovely and all but I'm going to have to love you and leave you guys." With that she gave the other two an ironic salute and proceeded to leave the area.
As she walked out the clearing it occurred to her she didn't have a destination in mind. Now it would be almost impossible to work out where her friend had gone, too many unknown variables. Making sure she was out of sight she stopped and checked the map from her pack to see where was the best , to say nothing of safest, place to start her search. Having reached a cursory decision she repacked her bag and headed off into the unknown
(Stephanie Moon continued in Inventory Check )
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Dylan picked up her hat and started brushing the dirt off it while the guy spoke. "Pretty damn shitty, yeah," she replied. She hesitated for a while at the second part, squinting at Hostile Guy (What the hell is his name? There can't be that many basketballers around...) to try and figure out the implications. Any mention of her blackness made her tense up by default, and a frown crossed her face momentarily before she forced it away. She supposed there was no reason to get mad. He'd said 'not black enough.' Hell, now that she thought about it, that was one of the nicest compliments anyone had ever given her.
"Definitely not black enough, hurray for that," she said dryly, giving a strained grin. "Not for the getting shot part, obviously, but... you know what I mean. Besides, Maxim's always been a jerk. It's just now he's a jerk with a gun."
Stephanie decided this would be a good time to leave. Dylan raised her hand half-heartedly, wondering whether to return the salute or not and only realising a few moments later that it was probably sarcastic. She quickly lowered it again and turned her full attention on the remaining guy, jamming her hat onto her head as she did so.
"Actually, if you don't mind... I understand not sparing painkillers or anything... but would you mind if I borrowed your map and compass for a moment, Bouncer? I'll give 'em back."
She tried to look anywhere but at her blood-splattered rock. Don't look. It's not there. She wouldn't look and she'd keep on smiling. Because she was so not bothered. She was fine. Peachy. Sunshine and lollipops.
"Definitely not black enough, hurray for that," she said dryly, giving a strained grin. "Not for the getting shot part, obviously, but... you know what I mean. Besides, Maxim's always been a jerk. It's just now he's a jerk with a gun."
Stephanie decided this would be a good time to leave. Dylan raised her hand half-heartedly, wondering whether to return the salute or not and only realising a few moments later that it was probably sarcastic. She quickly lowered it again and turned her full attention on the remaining guy, jamming her hat onto her head as she did so.
"Actually, if you don't mind... I understand not sparing painkillers or anything... but would you mind if I borrowed your map and compass for a moment, Bouncer? I'll give 'em back."
She tried to look anywhere but at her blood-splattered rock. Don't look. It's not there. She wouldn't look and she'd keep on smiling. Because she was so not bothered. She was fine. Peachy. Sunshine and lollipops.
Moon took off. Meh, whatever. It was tough to believe that just a short while ago, her squeaking had been enough to put him on high alert. Caleb wondered, for a second, if he'd ever run into her again, then set that uncomfortable thought aside. He had enough to worry about - and enough people to worry about, without getting all wound up about some girl he hardly knew.
Dylan was still around though. Was she expecting something from him? In the nicest possible way, he really had better things to do than babysit for someone who'd managed to get themselves shot inside the first like, couple hours of the game. She was probably completely boned.
Wow, that was cold. That was ... well that was supposed to be the point of all this, right? To be cold-blooded, to put your country ahead of everything else, but... dammit. Dylan was right there, literally right fucking there. Caleb could take her, no issues. She was hurt, she was scrawny and she wasn't armed. But... were people at home sitting around, watching this, urging Caleb to just bite the bullet and jump this chick?
He...
Oh fuck it. If he went after her it would just get his name out as some kind've lunatic, right? So... so...
Caleb shrugged his bag off his shoulder and put it on the ground in front of him, made a 'be my guest' type of gesture to Dylan.
Hey, people watching at home... I'm not being like, a sympathiser or nothing. Just trying to be clever and all...
Dylan was still around though. Was she expecting something from him? In the nicest possible way, he really had better things to do than babysit for someone who'd managed to get themselves shot inside the first like, couple hours of the game. She was probably completely boned.
Wow, that was cold. That was ... well that was supposed to be the point of all this, right? To be cold-blooded, to put your country ahead of everything else, but... dammit. Dylan was right there, literally right fucking there. Caleb could take her, no issues. She was hurt, she was scrawny and she wasn't armed. But... were people at home sitting around, watching this, urging Caleb to just bite the bullet and jump this chick?
He...
Oh fuck it. If he went after her it would just get his name out as some kind've lunatic, right? So... so...
Caleb shrugged his bag off his shoulder and put it on the ground in front of him, made a 'be my guest' type of gesture to Dylan.
Hey, people watching at home... I'm not being like, a sympathiser or nothing. Just trying to be clever and all...
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Dylan watched the guy... guh, his name was on the tip of her tongue... place the bag on the ground. She might have classed it as a dumb move to place the entire bag there instead of just handing over the map and compass, but... yeah, it didn't matter in her case. She couldn't smuggle anything out of the bag, where would she keep it?
She edged towards the bag for a moment, the ache from the side of her head reminding her that getting too close could be a trap. It probably wasn't, but it could be. Couldn't hurt to be careful. She opened the bag and quickly grabbed the map and compass. Taking a step back so that she was just out of reach, she studied the map and checked which direction she had to go in.
Hmmm... north-west? If I don't waver too much, maybe I can make it to the town before anything useful is picked clean.
Dylan placed the map and compass back inside the bag. “Thank you,” she said quickly, before backing out of reach again. She returned to one of the rocks and, removing her charcoal from her pocket, started drawing an arrow pointing in the direction of the town, just in case she got lost and ended up back at the circle again. She kept one eye on the other guy as she did so.
Just in case.
Though she wasn't sure why it mattered. She was bound to get killed at one point or another. People like her were inferior, even if they had supplies and weapons and both ears. Sure, the ol' General might have said minorities had an equal chance to win, but he had to be lying. That just went against everything she knew. If she was inferior, she didn't have a chance to win. She'd die at the hands of some guy like Bouncer over there. As long as it wasn't an anti-patriotic idiot like Maxim... she could probably live with that. In a manner of speaking.
Of course, rolling over and admitting defeat was also un-American. That was probably why she didn't just lie down and tell Bouncer to hit her with something heavy. ...Also, she wasn't a fan of the whole dying thing, no matter how inevitable it was.
She edged towards the bag for a moment, the ache from the side of her head reminding her that getting too close could be a trap. It probably wasn't, but it could be. Couldn't hurt to be careful. She opened the bag and quickly grabbed the map and compass. Taking a step back so that she was just out of reach, she studied the map and checked which direction she had to go in.
Hmmm... north-west? If I don't waver too much, maybe I can make it to the town before anything useful is picked clean.
Dylan placed the map and compass back inside the bag. “Thank you,” she said quickly, before backing out of reach again. She returned to one of the rocks and, removing her charcoal from her pocket, started drawing an arrow pointing in the direction of the town, just in case she got lost and ended up back at the circle again. She kept one eye on the other guy as she did so.
Just in case.
Though she wasn't sure why it mattered. She was bound to get killed at one point or another. People like her were inferior, even if they had supplies and weapons and both ears. Sure, the ol' General might have said minorities had an equal chance to win, but he had to be lying. That just went against everything she knew. If she was inferior, she didn't have a chance to win. She'd die at the hands of some guy like Bouncer over there. As long as it wasn't an anti-patriotic idiot like Maxim... she could probably live with that. In a manner of speaking.
Of course, rolling over and admitting defeat was also un-American. That was probably why she didn't just lie down and tell Bouncer to hit her with something heavy. ...Also, she wasn't a fan of the whole dying thing, no matter how inevitable it was.
Caleb stood back a step and regarded Dylan with his hands on his hips. She was acting like a beaten dog, like she expected him to haul off and knock her out at any second. He couldn't say he was totally surprised... Caleb didn't beat people up for fun, not like some of his classmates, but if Mr Bleeding Heart, champion of the suppressed minorities Maxim Senders, had shot her, then who exactly shouldn't she be wary of?
Nice lesson though. He should take it to heart. Here in the Program, all bets were off. The best person Caleb had to depend on was himself... with his stupid jumpsuit. Great. Caleb you are terrible back up. Why do we even bring you along anyway?
He gave another non-committal shrug when Dylan returned his gear. It was no biggy really, he only let her borrow it for a second or two. Once the map and compass were returned, Caleb scooped up his bag and then went back to the rocks to retrieve his camouflage, roll it up, and put that in the pack too. He guessed it could come in handy, but c'mon, some people got guns and he got something that looked like it could be pyjamas. ...At least it would be something to keep the wind off. Now that Caleb had stopped working out, the wind was rapidly cooling the sweat on his body, giving him a bit of a chill. He needed to rub down or keep moving, so he didn't freeze his balls off.
"Awright..." Caleb turned back to Dylan. "I'm off. That way," he pointed in the direction of the trail that descended down into the pine stands below. This was a pretty good vantage point and all, but it was also kind've exposed, and without an actual weapon, Caleb was uncomfortable with the idea of lingering. "I'm gonna run, though, so if you're thinking of coming with..." he shrugged again. "You'll have to keep up is all I'm saying. Later."
True to promise, Caleb almost immediately took off, setting a decent pace but not stretching his limits. He'd need his energy for later... hopefully there'd be a later.
((Caleb Smartt continued in Vagabond Code))
Nice lesson though. He should take it to heart. Here in the Program, all bets were off. The best person Caleb had to depend on was himself... with his stupid jumpsuit. Great. Caleb you are terrible back up. Why do we even bring you along anyway?
He gave another non-committal shrug when Dylan returned his gear. It was no biggy really, he only let her borrow it for a second or two. Once the map and compass were returned, Caleb scooped up his bag and then went back to the rocks to retrieve his camouflage, roll it up, and put that in the pack too. He guessed it could come in handy, but c'mon, some people got guns and he got something that looked like it could be pyjamas. ...At least it would be something to keep the wind off. Now that Caleb had stopped working out, the wind was rapidly cooling the sweat on his body, giving him a bit of a chill. He needed to rub down or keep moving, so he didn't freeze his balls off.
"Awright..." Caleb turned back to Dylan. "I'm off. That way," he pointed in the direction of the trail that descended down into the pine stands below. This was a pretty good vantage point and all, but it was also kind've exposed, and without an actual weapon, Caleb was uncomfortable with the idea of lingering. "I'm gonna run, though, so if you're thinking of coming with..." he shrugged again. "You'll have to keep up is all I'm saying. Later."
True to promise, Caleb almost immediately took off, setting a decent pace but not stretching his limits. He'd need his energy for later... hopefully there'd be a later.
((Caleb Smartt continued in Vagabond Code))
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Dylan could have attempted to keep up with Bouncer, but she knew she couldn't manage it, especially if he was going to run. While they were going in the same basic direction (though she didn't know where he intended to end up) it seemed like allying would be a no-go as long as she was being a slowpoke.
“Good luck!” Dylan called after him, although she wasn't sure if he heard. She waited quietly until she no longer heard any footsteps or twigs snapping. As soon as everything was quiet again, she let out a long breath and flopped down onto the grass. She was so sure that something was going to go wrong, given that every time she'd stayed still for more than a minute so far someone with a gun had turned up.
Wishing another student good luck in a contest where there'd only be one winner had felt odd, but she'd meant it. If she couldn't win—and let's face it, that was pretty damn likely—then a guy like Caleb—oh, that was his name, Caleb Smartt, aww, I missed so many chances to make terrible puns—was probably the sort she'd want to win. Not a anti-patriotic hypocrite like Maxim or a bleeding heart like Louisa. Practical without being a complete dick about it. (Only a semi-dick, but hey, that came with the territory of being practical in this sort of situation.)
Although, she couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't wearing the damn camo-pajamas. Those looked so handy. If she had one, she'd hide in the bushes like a boss and strike when the time was right. It'd be sooo good. Dylan entertained a brief daydream about disguising herself as a rock and then punching Maxim until he literally exploded. That'd be pretty sweet.
But that wasn't an option. What her option consisted of was a stick. Not even a good one. Not sharp or anything. Well, that was something she could fix. Dylan felt around for a bit until she found a smaller rock, sat against one of the rocks in the area and tried to sharpen her walking stick.
She spent the next few minutes discovering that she wasn't very good at it. Sharpening sticks sounded so easy. Just scrape bits off a stick until it becomes pointy. Hell, fucking indian savages could manage shit like that, why couldn't she?
Maybe because she was way more adjusted to the indoors. Sometimes creaky, abandoned indoors that she had to trespass on to have a look at and take photos of, but indoors nonetheless. Why couldn't Program have been in a compound again? That was her sort of area. She'd probably be doing a bit better in that kind of enviroment. Sure, the valley was picturesque, but she really had more of an interest in manmade buildings.
Dylan gritted her teeth as she tried sharpening the end of the stick, but it kept splintering wrong. She tried again, applying perhaps a bit more pressure than she should have. This time, the end of it just snapped off.
...
Dylan tossed the stick aside angrily before trying to snuggle deeper into the standard-issue jacket. She didn't cry this time. She just blinked a lot and tried to stop anything from coming out. She rubbed her eyes to check that no tears were leaking out. As she did so, she glanced around and tried to see any cameras. She spotted one just beyond the circle and immediately adjusted herself to try and look like she was just casually rubbing her eyes. She wasn't going to embarrass her grandmother by sobbing again, and she wasn't going to give the jerk who ran this game and smiled while doing so the satisfaction.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you, Smiley?” she muttered under her breath, staring at the camera. After a few seconds, she climbed to her feet again. There was nothing useful here.
She kept the rock she'd been using. On her way out of the clearing, as she reached the trail that went into the pine stands, which would eventually lead her to the town if she stuck to the path properly, she picked up a new sturdy branch. As she walked along, she went back to trying to sharpen her stick.
She'd get it right eventually. She wouldn't quit.
((Dylan Walker continued in This Land Is Your Land.))
“Good luck!” Dylan called after him, although she wasn't sure if he heard. She waited quietly until she no longer heard any footsteps or twigs snapping. As soon as everything was quiet again, she let out a long breath and flopped down onto the grass. She was so sure that something was going to go wrong, given that every time she'd stayed still for more than a minute so far someone with a gun had turned up.
Wishing another student good luck in a contest where there'd only be one winner had felt odd, but she'd meant it. If she couldn't win—and let's face it, that was pretty damn likely—then a guy like Caleb—oh, that was his name, Caleb Smartt, aww, I missed so many chances to make terrible puns—was probably the sort she'd want to win. Not a anti-patriotic hypocrite like Maxim or a bleeding heart like Louisa. Practical without being a complete dick about it. (Only a semi-dick, but hey, that came with the territory of being practical in this sort of situation.)
Although, she couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't wearing the damn camo-pajamas. Those looked so handy. If she had one, she'd hide in the bushes like a boss and strike when the time was right. It'd be sooo good. Dylan entertained a brief daydream about disguising herself as a rock and then punching Maxim until he literally exploded. That'd be pretty sweet.
But that wasn't an option. What her option consisted of was a stick. Not even a good one. Not sharp or anything. Well, that was something she could fix. Dylan felt around for a bit until she found a smaller rock, sat against one of the rocks in the area and tried to sharpen her walking stick.
She spent the next few minutes discovering that she wasn't very good at it. Sharpening sticks sounded so easy. Just scrape bits off a stick until it becomes pointy. Hell, fucking indian savages could manage shit like that, why couldn't she?
Maybe because she was way more adjusted to the indoors. Sometimes creaky, abandoned indoors that she had to trespass on to have a look at and take photos of, but indoors nonetheless. Why couldn't Program have been in a compound again? That was her sort of area. She'd probably be doing a bit better in that kind of enviroment. Sure, the valley was picturesque, but she really had more of an interest in manmade buildings.
Dylan gritted her teeth as she tried sharpening the end of the stick, but it kept splintering wrong. She tried again, applying perhaps a bit more pressure than she should have. This time, the end of it just snapped off.
...
Dylan tossed the stick aside angrily before trying to snuggle deeper into the standard-issue jacket. She didn't cry this time. She just blinked a lot and tried to stop anything from coming out. She rubbed her eyes to check that no tears were leaking out. As she did so, she glanced around and tried to see any cameras. She spotted one just beyond the circle and immediately adjusted herself to try and look like she was just casually rubbing her eyes. She wasn't going to embarrass her grandmother by sobbing again, and she wasn't going to give the jerk who ran this game and smiled while doing so the satisfaction.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you, Smiley?” she muttered under her breath, staring at the camera. After a few seconds, she climbed to her feet again. There was nothing useful here.
She kept the rock she'd been using. On her way out of the clearing, as she reached the trail that went into the pine stands, which would eventually lead her to the town if she stuck to the path properly, she picked up a new sturdy branch. As she walked along, she went back to trying to sharpen her stick.
She'd get it right eventually. She wouldn't quit.
((Dylan Walker continued in This Land Is Your Land.))