Magical Bunny Girl Warrior Sidney-Chan

[zabriel*]

Michael chewed his lip a moment. With shooting quite often came death. Granted, these two weren't on his team, and their deaths might bring him a little closer to being home, but they were from his school, and one was almost what he'd consider a friend. They sang together anyhow, and that meant something, even if Michael wasn't entirely sure just what it meant.

"You sure about this? Maybe it'd be better to wait for them to kill each other before we go in, or at least spend their ammunition. I've heard a lot of shots, and I don't think they give out that many bullets. Then again, maybe they're out already, and it could always be a teammate of one of ours. Either way, be careful man. We don't want to get killed just yet."

[Courtography]

Michael was probably right. There would be other people already on the ship. Of course there would be. In the early parts of the game there were people everywhere, at least that's how it seemed watching the show.

Then the sound of rapid gunshots. Shit man. That wasn't good. No that wasn't good at all, but who knew, they might be able to get the upper hand. Issac had a gun too and that made Nick feel at least a little confident about their chances.

He did see Michael's concern though, but he seriously thought they'd be okay. Most people didn't, at least early on, kill someone unless they were threatened. They wouldn't be bothering them so they should be fine. Nick figured sharing that thought wouldn't hurt. "We should be safe. Most people don't try to kill someone in cold blood until a few days in. Watch our backs bro, but we should be fine."

[Chib*]

So the others suddenly didn't seem so taken with the idea of going into the boat after all. Probably the gunshots. Fair point, really, getting shot at wasn't ever a pleasant experience. People Isaac knew could pretty much assure him it just put a damper on their whole day, especially if they got hit. Yeah, that was really not fun.

But for some reason, Isaac wasn't all that worried about it. Because he had a gun too. Not only that, he had a fucking sweet gun, a Desert Eagle. A gun he'd heard people describe as a hand-cannon, which was, by all scales, a pretty cool way to describe something. So he had some kind of false confidence thing going on, which, to him, felt very real. He had a giant, ridiculously powerful gun in his hands. Nobody in their right mind would try to cross him, unless they were packing an assault rifle or something. But that seemed unlikely.

So he opened the door. Slowly, of course, and with his torso to the side. Call of Duty style, yeah. There's nobody in the next room, so with a nod to Michael and Nick, Isaac enters. The gunfire sounded like it was coming from a few storeys downstairs, so he made for the nearest staircase, and started to descend.

[Short and uneventful, granted, but things need to happen downstairs first.]

[Little Boy*]

A piece of glass flew through the air toward his head.

Jonas screamed like a girl, throwing himself sideways, his heart pounding like some tribal drum. His entire pathetic life flashed before his eyes, for a split second he was sure he would be the first one eliminated. He couldn't stop cursing himself- if an afterlife existed, all the angels would be laughing at him. He put his left foot down and stumbled, his right leg awkwardly banging into it. He wobbled, looking down, trying to make his legs work, mentally right himself.

It was just the opportunity Vincent needed.

Jonas was never the luckiest kid in the world. Coupled with very bad decision making, opening fire, locking himself in a room with no exits, pretty nearly emptying his Uzi into a wall and antagonizing some crazed maniac-

I'm fucked, I'm downright fucked, I'm a porn stars asshole, that is how IMMENSELY FUCKED I AM RIGHT NO-

Vincent's fist connected with his face, just as he looked up.

WHAM.

Things... Things went funny.

There was pain, oh yes, there was a load of that. He felt detached, as if he were looking at himself from far away. He was tumbling through the air, like some crash test dummy, and blood was exploding from his noise, so violently it caused him to jump. Or it would have, if he hadn't been flying through the air.

The feeling lasted a few minutes, but by then, he was already laying on the ground. On his descent he'd slammed shoulder first into a lamp and bedside table. He couldn't feel his shoulder, but then again, he wasn't feeling much of anything. A pathetic puddle of blood and spittle had formed around his mouth and nose. His weapon clattered to the floor next to him.

It was a textbook one hit K.O.

"Buh" He managed to say, before he closed his eyes, fading in and out of consciousness.

[Fenrir]

As much of an annoyance as he was, Jonas went down pretty easily in the end; Vincent was half expecting him to put up a fight after all that but instead his fellow contestant went down like a tonne – well, more like a half tonne – of bricks. His nose was probably broken, he might have wrenched something in his shoulder when he hit the bedside table and whatever pride he had would most likely never recover. Not bad for one punch.

The blood from his nose splattered against Vincent’s white t-shirt staining the material irreparably, not that he cared; if anything in this game a light coating of someone else’s blood only proved to everyone you weren’t fucking around. It would make forming alliances harder but with the team system in place you could tell with a glance at their bandana whether or not a friendship would be able to last the game or not, so no loss there. No loss at all when compared to what he gained. Vincent eyed the Mac-10 on the ground, eager to pick it up and start making a name for himself in this game.

The first announcement had already come and gone, only one kill so far and only one killer, still plenty of time at this early stage to establish himself as someone not to be messed with. Two or three kills ought to be enough. Of course after then the temptation was to go for the full ten and earn a ticket home but getting greedy like that would just get you killed. A couple kills early on and you could probably just sail through to endgame without having to kill again, everyone will be too scared of you to even try and take you on. A glimpse of orange bandana would be enough to send people running.

But all that came later; right now he still had to deal with the guy in front of him. Vincent reached down and grabbed Jonas by the front of his shirt, pulling him up and throwing him down onto the bed where he would be out of the way, he was even lighter than Vincent expected. Next to be picked up was the Mac-10 and this too was lighter than he expected, probably because there weren’t many bullets left in the magazine after all the wild shooting Jonas did. Were there any bullets left in it at all?

*Click Click Click*

Apparently not or else Jonas would be bleeding from more than just his nose right now. Vincent threw the momentarily useless weapon onto Jonas’ chest before looking for where he had left his pack; he’d need to grab all of the ammunition for the gun while he was here and he might as well take the manual while he was at it. If anything Jonas had proved that it took a little more thought that just point and shoot.

[zabriel*]

Michael followed along, listening all around him. He had pretty good hearing, which was good in a game like this. It let him pick up on things that others might miss, like somebody coming up behind them. Of course he heard nothing of the sort, rendering that point moot for the present moment. He also heard nothing else.

"It sounds like the shooting stopped. I'm guess either somebody is dead or out of bullets. If they're out of bullets they probably have an extra clip, and will be reloading. They love the melee kills, but ever since that Japanese kid with the weird hair went on a rampage with a Mac-10 a few seasons back they seem to leave a little more ammunition around."

That kid was legendary, and also obscure. Nobody was sure where he came from or what made him tick. He didn't talk much. Just smiled. Everybody had taken to calling him Smiles. Even his action figure was called Smiles rather than his real name, which was just as well because Michael couldn't remember it anyhow.

"Can't wait to find something a bit better than this knife. Even a bat would be cool. I'm pretty good with one of those."

[Courtography]

Nick saw Issac going down the nearest staircase, but before he left he view he said "I'm gonna find another way around, ya know Man?" Yeah it better work out, but coming from the sides would work better. He thought. Of course surrounding someone worked a whole lot better when more than one person had a weapon.

He went down a nearby hallway, he would find a different staircase to get down there. In a way it was strange, he had always been in sight of another person during his whole time on TV. Now he was alone, if only for a few minutes.

[Chib*]

Somebody screamed. Isaac would've described it as "like a little girl", but the voice, despite the almost humourous nature to it, was a little too masculine to really call "girly" in anything other than an insulting manner. Then again, screaming like a little girl was kind of a normal thing for somebody to mock. So in a roundabout way, Isaac did end up describing it as such.

More importantly, though, he ended up investigating who and why. Ordinarily, you see, people didn't scream in such a shrill way if they'd been shot, they did that sort of "Aaargh" kind of thing. Or at least, so Isaac assumed, he wasn't really sure. But the point was, in his assumption, the cause of the dismay hadn't been someone getting shot. But he had heard gunfire earlier.

So, long story short, Isaac had no clue what to expect. Was it a late reaction to the gunfire, like, they'd walked in on a corpse or someone holding a smoking gun? Or was it unrelated? Pretty big boat, it could easily have been a totally separate fight. It could easily not have been.

Either way, Isaac was armed with a gun - a good one at that - so the odds were good that he'd be either evenly matched or at an advantage. And statistics were totally always legit.

So, raising an open palm in the direction of whoever may or may not be behind him - Isaac assumed Nick and Michael would be following him, he didn't bother to check though - Isaac continued down the corridor. The sound had definitely been from this floor, he could hear it too clearly for it to be from anywhere else. He reached an open door, it looked like it had been forced open, but that was pretty much a guess. Isaac had no idea what a "forced open" door actually looked like, he was just guessing from the way it wasn't fully open or closed, as though it had been slammed into the wall when opened, then left to swing a bit.

So this was the place.

Isaac stuck his nose around the corner, peering in, only to be distracted by Michael's voice behind him. Note to self, be clearer with signals to stop in the future. And naturally, that left him in a precarious position. If anyone inside was watching the door, they'd have seen him, but he never had the chance to see who or what was inside the room for himself, too busy turning to shush Michael instinctively, leaving his back to the door itself and his gun hand on the wrong side of his body to be much use in a pinch.

[Fenrir]

Vincent had just picked up Jonas’ pack and placed it on the foot of the bed, ready to open it up and collect all of the supplies he’d need to work his new Mac-10 so that he could finally get off this damn boat when he heard it.

"I'm gonna find another way around, ya know Man?"

It was quiet, probably from somewhere down the hall but it was enough to catch his attention and make him turn his head towards the door. He could have kicked himself when he saw that someone was actually standing there, literally a few feet away and he hadn’t heard a damn thing he was so caught up in what he was doing. Then he actually took the time to take a look at the guy; his back was facing him thankfully, he seemed familiar but that wasn’t important right now, what was though was the fact that this guy had both a gun of his own and a damn pink bandana, just like Jonas’. Not only was he nearly snuck up on but he was nearly snuck up on by the teammate of the guy he just knocked unconscious. That couldn’t have gone well for him, thank god for the idiot down the hall who gave it away for him.

Everything else aside for now though, he needed to think of a way to deal with this guy before he turned around and find a way to do it quietly so the guy down the hall didn’t hear anything. His ‘knives’ were an option but not a very good one; he wasn’t good with knives and didn’t know if he could kill this guy quickly enough with one, let alone a piece of plate. He could choke him, sneak up behind him with a wire and garrotte the guy like in the movies? But looking around the room the closest he cold come up with was the cord for the damn bed side lamp but that was hardly long enough.

Pulling out another shard of plate out of his pocket Vincent began walking towards the guy as quietly as his large frame would allow. Fuck it, just grab this guy, drag him inside and stab the fuck out of him; it would be messy, it would be noisy and it would bring everybody on this ship running but it would get the job done. And once he got his hands on a gun that was actually loaded he could just take care of each person as they came and then deal with Jonas. A third of the way towards a free ticket home and it would barely have taken half a day.

Close enough to reach the guy now Vincent lunged forward and wrapped one strong arm around the guy’s shoulders, lifting him bodily off his feet and swinging him round, pulling him out of the hallway and into the room with Vincent in between him and the door and an arm still around him. Vincent raised the hand with the plate shard above his head and brought it down, over this guys shoulder and down towards his chest.

[Chib*]

[Skipping to get this death done quick-like. Reaction would be pretty instant anyways, so it's kinda justified.]

To say Isaac never knew what hit him would be inaccurate. At first he didn't, but not being blind or stupid, it didn't take long to see and comprehend what was happening. First, an arm wrapped itself around his shoulders, and started pulling. Distracted as he already was, there wasn't anything he could do to resist before it was too late to be useful.

Second, he found himself flung bodily into the room he'd just seconds ago been peering into, spinning on his feet and flailing his arms wildly for balance. Or at least, that's what he'd have been doing if Vincent didn't maintain a frighteningly strong grip on Isaac's torso, quite literally hugging him close to deny any chance at free movement, at getting his right arm loose and unleashing lead-based death.

Third and finally, the grip was loosened, letting Isaac drop back a few inches, thinking to try to escape or at least get his own arms up in self defence. Alas, it was exactly what was expected and hoped for; almost the instant the boy pulled away from Vincent, an improvised knife found its mark on his left shoulder. Given the awkwardness of both boys' positions, and the likelihood of the plate to just shatter, it wasn't surprising that it wasn't swung with much force, not enough to puncture. The downward force intended to drive the porcelain dagger into Isaac's flesh instead brought the weapon dragging down his front, leaving a trail of torn cloth and shallow laceration in its wake.

It was the pain of that cut that lost Isaac that fight, arguably. His muscles tightened, and before he realised the consequences of that, his finger contracted and squeezed the trigger of his Desert Eagle, putting a bullet straight through the floor, probably the floor below as well, and sending a shockwave of recoil back up through his right arm, further distracting him with even more intense pain as his elbow was forcefully bent in the wrong direction. He dropped the gun like a hot potato, and flailed aimlessly in Vincent's general direction with his left hand, hoping one of the blindly thrown punches much buy him some time to clear his thoughts and get a handle on the situation.

Not much to pin his hopes on, but it was something.

[Fenrir]

(OOC: Same as above. We are on a deadline after all)

Vincent grit his teeth at the sudden loud bang of the gun going off – that thing was a hell of a lot louder than Jonas’ little cap gun – but also dully registered the sound of it clattering to the floor as well as he continued to wrestle the smaller boy back under control. Isaac’s initial shock at being grabbed and then stabbed had worn off and he was now fighting hard to get away from Vincent.

A couple of weak elbows caught him in the side of the head but ended up doing nothing more than annoy him. The angle that they came in from was awkward because of the way that Vincent was still holding onto Isaac and he couldn’t get much power behind them. Still, by the time the third shot hit him in his temple he figure enough was enough.

Vincent readjusted his grip on Isaac, dropping the plate shard and bringing his other arm across and linking it with his other arm across his chest, going under Isaac’s left arm and leaving his right pinned to his side as before. He lifted the smaller boy clean off his feet with some effort and spun him again, this time stepping back at the same time and swinging Isaac left arm and head first into the wooden door. Once, twice… three times. He banged his arms against the surface as well due to the positioning but if he definitely came out better of the two of them.

He swung Isaac back towards the centre of the room and let go, the other contestant flying out of his arms and crashing into the side of the bed where Jonas still lay unconscious. Vincent, now breathing heavily and feeling the strain over everything he had just done, reached down to pick up the large handgun which had been dropped earlier in the fight.

“Not a bad weapon draw, much better than mine anyway, even better than what your teammate on the bed behind you got. Did you even get a chance to use it yet? Have you shot anybody with it? Probably not”

Vincent raised his arm and pointed the heavy pistol straight at Isaac’s chest.

“Too bad, you probably could have gone far if this game if you hadn’t run into me”

Vincent pulled back the hammer on the handgun before adding in a muttered undercurrent, “If this gun is empty as well I will just fucking beat him to death with it instead”

*BANG BANG*

[Chib*]

A fight ensued, if it could truly be called that. Dazed and in pain, it was as much as Isaac could do to just keep focused. Some of his attacks found their mark, but with the awful aim and lack of force behind them, they only seemed to succeed in pissing the indomitable attacker off. And that just made things worse.

Before he knew what Vincent was trying to do with his odd arm-shifting shenanigans, Isaac's head was being slammed into the edge of a door. And again. And again. It didn't take long before it stopped seeming to hurt, his vision becoming blurry and his brain slower by the second. Whilst Vincent was busy hurling him across the room and going for the gun he'd dropped, Isaac was just about aware of the warm trail of blood making its way down the side of his head.

He stumbled as his feet collided with the room's bed, and toppled to the ground, prevented from falling completely prone only by the wall behind him, which served to prop his upper body up into an unintentional sitting position.

Irregular sound filled the air. Even in his blank state, Isaac realised it was speech, and decided it might be important to listen.

"Not a bad weapon draw, much better than mine anyway, even better than what your teammate on the bed behind you got. Did you even get a chance to use it yet? Have you shot anybody with it? Probably not."

Had he the time to think, perhaps he could've lied, claimed that bullet had been the last one in the gun, if only to prompt Vincent to check. Dubious but better than nothing. Instead, all Isaac could do was attempt to raise his head, locate where the voice was coming from. The blurred shaped of Vincent loomed over him, the all-too-clear barrel of Isaac's own gun pointed straight for his face.

"Too bad, you probably could have gone far if this game if you hadn’t run into me."

The sad part was, he probably could've. Running into Vincent arguably hadn't even been the problem, it had been being distracted at the last minute. Of course, none of this was going through Isaac's head. All he could think about was trying to muster the strength to throw himself sideways in a desperate attempt to buy a couple more seconds of life, to waste some of the bullets fired at him.

Then something else went through his head. Two somethings, in fact. If he'd had the chance to look back on it afterwards, Isaac would probably have been amused that his last thoughts, before the insides of his head decorated the wall, went something to the tune of "My head really hurts right now..."

PNK5: Isaac King - ELIMINATED

[Fenrir]

(OOC: Need to skip again. Vincent needs to get the hell out of here before someone comes looking for what happened)

Aside from the weird lurch in his stomach as he saw Isaac’s head crack open from the two bullets impacting with his skull, Vincent felt oddly numb about the fact that he had just killed somebody. Maybe the lifetime of seeing people bloodied and beaten after a fight meant that real-life gore didn’t really bother him anymore. Maybe the fact he had just taken a life hadn’t really sunk in yet. Or maybe he was just that cold a bastard, he didn’t know, all he knew was that right now he had at least one other person on this boat who would be coming this way fast after what had just happened.

He rushed towards the bed and hopped over to land next to Isaac's body, momentarily stopping to admire the fact he had made a double headshot on his first time using a gun, and yanked the bag from his body. No time to sort through all that shit now, just grab the whole thing and swap it all into one bag later.

He stood and leapt back over the bed before turning back to face it, there was still the little matter of sleeping Jonas to deal with. He raised the pistol again and held his finger against the trigger, pausing before pulling the metal switch back for the third time.

“You’re not worth the bullet”, his eyes dropped to the Mac-10 still resting against his chest, rising a falling slightly with each breath the boy took. “It’s not even worth taking your gun anymore. Later Jonas”

With that he turned suddenly and disappeared out the door, turning down the corridor the same way he had come before – the opposite way from the voice he heard before – and up the stairs once he reached them. The cruise ship apparently wasn’t as large as he thought because he was soon out on the deck and in the open air for the first time since he had awoken below deck. Taking a moment or two to breathe in the fresh, salty air he looked around the deck, open sea on one side and the aging, sea-air worn building of the dock on the other. He ran for the gangway as soon as he saw it and left the boat to set foot on the actual island for the first time.

(Vincent Sullivan continued in Columbines in My Eye)

[zabriel*]

Michael had made sure not to follow too closely, which was a good thing, as Isaac had been attacked. He might have tried to help, but it was very sudden, and he really didn't feel like getting shot. So he ducked into a cabin and made no noise. Perhaps that was a little cowardly, but it kept him out of trouble. What he did next made him feel a little dirty. He waited for the assailant to run past and then made his way into the room. His eyes were immediately drawn to his former companion's body.

Michael thought he was ready. He wasn't. Barely inside the door, he vomitted. Fortunately for him it had been some time since he'd last eaten, so there wasn't much. It took him a full minute to regain any semblance of composure. Once he got himself together he saw that he was not alone. There was a boy lying down with a machine gun on his chest. He was clearly alive, as he could see his chest move with each breath. Alive meant one thing. He'd be waking up, which meant that Michael needed to move quickly. He reached for the gun and tried to lift it.

Shit. He's gripping it. How did I miss that?

Not wanting to mess with him in case he woke up, Michael backed away and made his way back out the door, careful to avoid the vomit. He thought a moment and remembered his original plan to find the kitchens and attempt to upgrade either his knife or his food supply. Or both if he could manage it. He moved quickly, looking around to figure out where the kitchens even were.

[Courtography]

Nick had gotten lost. He had found a different staircase down, but he couldn't find a hallway that led him to that part of the ship. That's when he heard the gunshots. Shit man. He hoped Issac and Michael were okay. He needed to find his way back, maybe there were some rooms that would bring him around to another hallway.

He opened one of the doors to a cabin, noticing the small balcony on the outside. Sweet he could look out the window and figure out what side of the ship he was on, awesome.