SOTF Mini

His mood immediately soured, and he started to look a little tense from where he stood. Smashing up the screen didn’t really matter, it was really a trivial thing but the rest of what the other boy said had started to take priority. His eyes looked away from Asa briefly as he collected some thoughts, and then returned to him. But Corin did not move from his spot, the rifle came to a rest beside him and pointed to the floor. There was a pause before he finally found what he wanted to say, had the ability to try and skirt around the question that he was just asked. He didn’t want to admit who he was at the moment.

“Does the fact that I haven’t shot you vouch for anything? I don’t really think, uh think that words can like, you know. Be taken at… value in a place like this anyway?”

Corin already felt insulted by him, the guy was loud and condescending and Corin hated that it was directed towards him. It added insult to an already bruised psyche. He wanted to act defensively about it, argue with him and tell him that he didn’t know anything. He bit his tongue, and thought about how it was terrible to liaise with others in this game. It was difficult to stay calm, and it was keeping all of his concentration.

“You don’t happen to be on the silver team, do you?” He continued on, his voice was sullen and he tried to maintain some sort of even tone.

He doubted that he would have the luck to run into another member so soon. But he asked anyway, this time he wasn’t sure if he wanted an affirmative answer. He was focusing too much on the guy’s face to notice his team colours, but he still failed to make any direct eye contact. He shut his mouth and slowly started to bite the inside of his cheek, he didn’t really want to hear the response. He felt like he had fumbled his sentences, and he could only hope that the other guy would get what he meant exactly - or the gist of it.

Asa raised an eyebrow as the guy with the gun spoke. The guy tried to act as though not shooting Asa immediately validated some kind of mode of peace. Asa knew to not take that lightly. People with weapons could easily turn them on their opponents, especially with something powerful and at a distance that could really cause pain.

Once the guy was done with his slight case of word salad, he asked if Asa was on the silver team. Asa let out a small groan.

Man, one of these people...

Asa lifted up his arm, pulling down the sleeve of his sweatshirt, revealing the bandanna he tied around his wrist.

"Sorry, I'm on the jellyfish team. Does that change whether you raise your gun or not?"

“No.” He responded while running his free hand behind of his neck, sounding a little despondent.

In truth he was slightly relieved, but it didn’t show on his features. Instead he gazed at the screen and then realised that it was old show footage. He wasn’t all too surprised about it, but his nose crinkled a little as he focused on it - he felt some aversion to it. Not wanting to look at the screen for long his attention drifted back again to Asa.

“I’m not looking for a fight.” He added.

He wasn’t really sure how to continue, he disliked Asa but at the least speaking with him occupied his thoughts. It was better than leaving his mind to sink into the mire of his thoughts. He forgot to look and see if there was anyone else in the room with them. He had been so distracted that he didn’t think to do so, but now it didn’t seem like it. He continued to speak, though he laboured to express his thoughts. It did not help that he felt uneasy, but that was a feeling that had not left him over the past night.

“I don’t, I don’t really know - uh.” He let the conversation drop with a painful pause.

He didn’t know what else to say or do.

The guy didn't seem to be a threat just yet. If anything, Asa thought the guy was a little awkward and weird. If Asa had to guess what SOTF archetype this guy most closely resembled, he would guess it was probably something along the lines of the person who got the good weapon, but didn't have the nerve to use it. "The Reluctant," as Asa would have called it.

At the very least, Reluctant Randy didn't seem to really have much to say to Asa, or he didn't have any idea of what to say. To be fair, Asa did just mutilate a screen, so it's likely this guy was still a bit intimidated. Although Asa didn't show it, the idea of anyone being intimidated by him would have caused him to chuckle.

"Well, if you've got nothing to say," Asa said, "then you're probably a bit smarter than some of the assholes from your school."

Asa stepped away from the screen and made his way off the stage. He hopped down, keeping the axe in his hand.

"Still, I guess you've got some reason you want to approach me, otherwise you'd have run off the minute you saw my response to the bullshit programming they have here. If you've got one, share it. I'm all ears."

He wanted to lash out at Asa, and though he found the boy grating it was also just because he was upset, Asa was simply there at the time. He wanted reassurance and this stranger was giving him none, he didn’t get what he desired and it was frustrating him. He didn’t want to know about what others were doing wrong, or how they sucked, for the moment he was dwelling on his own self and his expectations. He couldn’t take these off handed remarks, or rather he didn’t want to. The more he spoke, the more Corin could feel the resentment as it cut deep. His mind was glazing over the slight compliment the other boy had afforded, ultimately taking it as insult.

Asa was so inconsequential in Corin’s world, but somehow he cut deep enough to sting. He pushed down on his mind until it decided to rear back and bite.

“Look, could you fucking tone it down with the whole my school sucks thing?”

His words took on biting quality in tone, he was feeling choleric and he wore the emotion on his face. His brows furrowed, and his body shifted in idle motion, the gun only moving because the rest of his body was shifting in posture and nothing else. He eyed Asa’s movements, visibly squinting at the boy. His thoughts remained hidden behind his eyes as they evaluated, but his tone began to crack a bit.

“I don’t have a reason. But if we are going to stay, you know, cordial through this whole interaction. I’d appreciate if you just didn’t.”

He let out a deep breath. In the low chance that he had been able to hear Asa’s mentor at all, it didn’t show. He was caught up with his priorities.

“Not everything people do has a point, you know?”

It completely dawned that there was no reason for him to stay, he had been unrealistic in his hopes that the first person he’d see would be of any help. He could not confide in a stranger, nor did he find any reason to want to stay near this person. The more either of them spoke the more evident that it became to himself that this was not for him, that was it.

Asa heard a voice emit from his collar. It looked like his mentor finally had something to say. Sure, it was about eighteen hours late, but he finally had some crap to say. It turned out to be something completely meaningless, as Asa should have expected. He was his mentor's favorite? Asa tossed that fact in his head. Was his team that shitty that Asa was the only likable one? Was everyone else on his team dead, leaving him favorite by default?

Asa rolled his eyes at the comment, but decided to ignore it for now and focus on the whiner in front of him. Asa really couldn't believe this guy was so offended by his comments on his school. He wasn't mocking this guy directly, just the stupid hick school he came from.

"First of all," Asa said, "everyone from your school that I've encountered has been a total ass, so give me a break for not getting a good impression. Honestly, I don't think your school is any better than mine, but I haven't seen any crazy people from my school yet, so yours has the worst SOTF impression for me."

"Second, yes, everyone does something for a reason. Even if you act without thinking, there's a tiny part of your brain that says 'do this thing.' I don't expect everyone here to be a cold, calculating machine, but I do think everyone has a reason for doing whatever they are doing."

"Now let me ask you again. What do you want?"

Corin went silent as he listened to the man speaking to him on his collar, his eyes tracked down roughly to where the voice was coming from. His lips shut, he didn’t speak and he tensed up. Leaving did sound good, it really did, but Corin thought this was under his control. He held his words for a time where he could speak to this person alone, he needed to go for that soon. He told himself that he wasn’t leaving because the voice on his collar decided to step up just now and give him advice, or rather just his job.

He stood through Asa’s words, nodding as though he was caring for what he was saying now. Looking visibly bothered, visibly distressed. There wasn’t a point to dwelling on this, he might have continued before but instead stepped back a little towards the exit.

“Really, I was looking around and just happened to come across you. I wanted to… see what was, well that.”

He gestured to the battered screen with his free hand. Though his body was starting to face in a way that suggested that he wanted to turn away and go. He wasn’t entirely committed to this conversation anymore, and he was rapidly losing interest. Saying what came to mind in order to bring the conversation to an end.

“But, uh, I was thinking of running off to the mens. Like, now. Arrivederci e permette di non incontrarsi di nuovo.”

He began to walk away with a false urgency before finishing the awkward sentence, speed walking from the room. If Asa said anything, it didn’t matter as the noises of the screen drowned him out. At least they were helping with Corin’s efforts to just ignore him, he started looking for a bathroom far off enough from where they just were.

Asa slightly lowered his head and dimmed his eyes as the jackass spoke. He just wanted to see what was up, then had to go pee. Asa couldn't believe it. Was that all this guy had to say? The guy even said something in a different language. For all Asa knew, that guy just told him to go fuck himself. Asa shook his head.

"Fine with me," he called out as the boy walked away. "Enjoy your potty break. I'm not going to wait for you."

Once the boy was gone, Asa sighed.

"Man, of all the rotten luck..."

Asa shook his head and walked down the aisle to where he was sitting moments earlier. He was done with this stupid theater. He was ready to get out of it and go find somewhere else to go. He could try to torch the theater out of anger, but he was low on ideas and energy to think of a way. Frankly, he was sick of the whole thing and needed some air. He had to think about the comments of his mentor and the tool from the other school.

Asa approached the seat where his bag was left. He reached down to get it out of his seat, ignoring the popcorn tub and soda cup. There wasn't much left, and both were probably crappy at this point. As Asa picked the bag up, he felt his grip on the axe weaken, and the axe fell out of his hand. Asa muttered a brief expletive as he saw the axe fall under one of the seats.

He crouched on the floor and began to reach for his axe. He needed to get out of the theater soon, and he definitely needed to do it before the other guy decided to come back guns a blazin'. Asa's hand found the grip of the axe, but he wouldn't be leaving just yet.

((GHIII Gene Steward, Enter))

After Gene went inside sneaking and looked into a random room quietly, he saw Asa Rosen, who apparently did not see him. It was a pity that Asa was abducted, too.

Asa was a cool guy. Gene and him were pretty friendly to each other or what Gene thought was friendly for Asa. However, Asa seemed to be an easy target. He couldn't see what colour Asa's bandanna had, but if it was Golden again, his mentor would stop him. So Gene decided not to use his stick.

He left his pogo-stick outside and grabbed something out of his bag, before he entered the room with his bag back on his back.

Gene had a heavy breathing, a too loud one, therefore he stopped breathing when he entered the room. He wanted to sneak in.

He quietly but quickly went to Asa's position and strained the object in both of his hands, a purple bandanna.

Gene wanted to breathe again as quickly as possible, but he didn't want to get caught. He loved stopping his breath when he dived or when he sang. But here, he hated it.

After he finally sneaked behind Asa, and put the bandanna around Asa's throat, he tried to choke Asa. He hoped he'd strangle him.

Then Gene finally breathed again.

((Order skipping and GMing approved))

If Asa was watching this moment at home, he would have been yelling at his TV avatar. In the privacy of his bedroom, with cans of Monster and empty bags of chips around his desk, Asa would have been criticizing the hell out of his actions. Why did he turn his back to the only entrance? Why did he not listen to his surroundings? Why did he choose to stay in a loud auditorium instead of somewhere where someone couldn't sneak up on him? Home-Asa would have been screaming at TV-Asa, and wouldn't be surprised TV-Asa was getting strangled by that Drama Club asshole, Gene Steward.

Asa felt a piece of cloth thrown around his neck as he got back up, feeling it get tightened around his throat. Asa let out a guttural noise as the cloth tightened around his throat. Asa would have criticized himself, but he didn't have time to think. Someone was making an attempt on his life; maybe it was Roy Reluctant, maybe it was someone else, but he was dying.

Of course, Asa wasn't going to have that. Asa's fascination with SOTF was mostly passing interest. He could study it as a piece of entertainment, as something to critique, as something to learn life lessons from. He could watch someone get killed in a certain way, then look up how to survive it on the internet, just in the minimal chance it happened to him. He knew from one random internet search months ago there were ways to survive strangulation if you moved quickly. Now, if the attacker was in front of him, Asa could just gouge his eyes out with his thumbs. While that would be interesting to try, Asa decided to go for a different option.

Asa let out another gargle, then swung his elbow backwards. He felt the elbow connect with the attacker's stomach. For posterity, Asa continued to swing his elbow back, repeatedly hitting his opponent. Finally, Asa felt the grip on the cloth loosen. He used this to step forward, turning back to see his attacker.

Gene Steward was someone Asa could have tolerated if the circumstances were different, but he didn't care anymore. Gene tried to kill him, and that meant Asa had no sympathy for him at all.

"You little fucker!" he screamed at Gene.

Asa swung the axe at Gene. Gene was still stumbling back from the repeated elbow jabs, and fell right as Asa swung the axe at him. However, Asa did feel the axe connect with something. Asa felt his breathing start to increase, trying to make up for the few seconds of lost oxygen. He watched Gene fall to the ground, clutching at his chest. Asa did hit him. Asa walked closer to the boy on the ground, looking over the boy lying in the theater aisle.

"You think you can kill me?" he shouted at Gene.

Asa swung his leg, kicking Gene in the kidney.

"You think you can screw me over like that?"

Another kick to the side. Then another.

"You little shitbag!"

The next kick went towards Gene's groin. The next one did as well. As did the next one, and the next one, and the next one.

"You're going to regret it! You're going to regret this you motherfucker!"

Asa continued to kick Gene. Groin, kidney, chest, it didn't matter. Asa found himself starting to laugh at the pathetic boy on the ground. He was finally taking charge, and he was going to make Gene suffer.

Corin arrived at the mens room, taking a while to care for his needs. He was silent mostly, leaning the rifle against the wall whilst he washed his hands and then his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, tired and a bit of a mess. His face wasn’t different, he didn’t age, nothing. He didn’t look hardened, just plain and miserable. That was not really a surprise.

It wasn’t long before he spoke up, he presumed that the man on the other end would know.

“Where were you when I was getting shot at?” He hissed lowly.

He didn’t stop there however. Beating into the conversation quickly, he had so much to say. His voice reflected a hint of anger, as his eyes traced back down his collar in the mirror.

“I had it under control there, before, really. I did and you didn’t need to butt in. But before was a different thingo. I don’t know. I don’t actually want an explanation for where you were. I’ll probably hate it.”

He didn’t stop to pause, he didn’t want to give the guy any space to talk. He had to let it all out first. He disliked the man, but there was also the fact that he could tell this man what he thought without any ramifications. It didn’t matter if he passed his thoughts to this guy, he wasn’t in the game and competing with him to live.

“No offense, but fuck you. What can you actually fucking do for me? I don’t know what to do. I’m so far over my head, how do I- how do I just. Cope. I was - am scared. That guy showed up, he had a gun and at first I thought...”

He tilted his head to the rifle, assuming that the man he was assigned to was watching the live feed at the moment.

“I really, I don’t know how I’m supposed to do anymore. I can’t rest, I’m restless. I don’t see a light at the end of this. What’s going to be left of me? I’m not taking like a duck to water, I- I’m just.”

His eyes caught his own in the mirror, the only prolonged eye contact he’d made for some time. He was probably the only person who could see the feelings of disgust behind them. He could see himself lightly shaking, he just wanted to retreat, to roll over and forget. He knew though, to do that was basically rolling over to die. Which was fruitless, but then he wondered what action was not for him.

“I’m drowning over here, Doc. Help?”

His voice cracked again with the last sentence, betraying the frailness that he had. If his mentor had nothing useful to say, nothing that he’d be able to take away from this. Then he would give up on the man, that was it. Just a bit of guidance.

“Anything. I just need any little thing.”

Gene had the advantage, but he lost it right after Asa got him with his elbow. And then he felt pain at his chest. But he was alive, hopefully it was not a deep wound.

Asa asked questions, rhetorical ones. Meanwhile he kicked him, everywhere. Everything hurt.

He needed to stop the pain and get out.

Gene rolled a bit to the side and took off his bag. He then used it to block the stomps of Asa.

Asa reminded him of Vahka.