[[Terrilynn Boden continued from Lost Memento]]
Fuuuuck this, and fuuuuck that, and fuuuuck everythiiiiiiing...
Lynn had made up a song. It was called "Fuck Everything" and it was doing a really bang-up job of describing her day so far.
Not that her surroundings had anything to do with her current hatred of everything. This island was actually pretty fucking pretty, all things considered- made sense. It was obviously some kind of tourist destination, given the hotel and everything- a tourist destination with a fucking rainforest, no less. God, this island was weird. She scanned the map for a while after getting the fuck out of Dodge/the beach, trying to come up with a destination. Duh, she wanted to find whoever was on her team- it hadn't been long, not at all, and she was already feeling itchy at how long she'd been alone- but where the hell were they? She needed some tracking device or some shit.
But what if her teammates didn't like her? ...Or worse, what if they were from that stuck-up fucking rich bitch school? That would blow. Hard.
Even after looking at the map, she couldn't help but be taken by surprise when suddenly it was snowing. What the shit...? The snow machine gave it away as fake (not to mention, uh, the climate of the rest of the island), and the snow machine was fucking loud and getting on her last nerve, but it was something different, at least. Different was good. Different was cool. The one problem being that it was fucking cold.
She dug into her backpack, looking for something to wear that wasn't a goddamn tanktop. She had some t-shirts...some more t-shirts...and what the fuck was this? She pulled out the other outfit, blinking at it in surprise. It...well, the top was long-sleeved, so that was a start, and she backtracked a little- far enough that the temperature increased again- before stripping quickly out of her vest and her tanktop and into this...jacket. Figuring she might as well complete the ensemble, she stepped out of her pants, too- fuck the cameras, what does it matter?- and put the new pair on, before noticing-
Oh fuck no.
There was a drum, sitting in her bag- a small one, meant to be worn around her neck. Complete with drumsticks. This was a fucking drummer boy costume. Real fucking cute, production team. How'd you come up with this one? But whatever. It was warm. Too warm, actually, to be worn anywhere but in the snow, so...
Lynn ventured forward, into the fake blizzard.
Hope I'm not the only one in this thing.
Whatcha Gonna Do
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Hollyquin*
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Whatcha Gonna Do
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MurderWeasel
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((Renée Carlson continued from Man, I Hate Poke Wars))
Renée was starting to get sick of the snow. Yeah, sure, the idea had been pretty good. It still was, in fact. The fact remained that she had not dressed for snow. She'd seen snow maybe a dozen times in her life. She'd retrieved her hoodie and put it back on. It had helped, but only so much. The fact remained, there was snow, and there was that awful churning of the snow machine, and their little group was heading right into it all, looking for the lodge that was supposedly around here.
Renée was being sure to keep an eye out for trouble. Enough time had now passed that she willing to bet someone had started playing. She'd even heard a couple of noises that could have been gunshots. There might have been some other explanation, but betting on that would be stupid. She knew how this game worked. She knew that some of her classmates, some people she'd probably eaten lunch with, had probably already become vicious monsters out for blood. They were selfish, snapping at the bit, ready to do anything it took to get home. The ten kill rule was in effect. It always ramped things up, never mind that it was close to impossible to actually achieve. Everyone thought they could be the exception, could blow common sense out of the water and make it.
Renée knew better. To survive, they had to stick together. They had to avoid playing. They had to beat down their self-centered instincts.
She'd have to watch her team, to make positively sure they realized that. She could trust Peter, for sure. He was unarmed, and he'd been decent from the start. He was a known quantity. The others, she was not sure of yet. She would trust them until they gave her reason not to, but she would trust them in a cautious, safe manner.
"This way, guys," she said, gesturing in the direction she thought the lodge was in. It was hard to see clearly with the snow, falling from the sky and irritating her eyes. She thought she could see something, though.
She also thought she could see a figure up ahead.
"I think someone's here," she said, dropping her voice. She'd probably already tipped the other person off to their location, so they'd have to be ready to hit the ground at any second. "Keep calm, and be careful."
Renée was starting to get sick of the snow. Yeah, sure, the idea had been pretty good. It still was, in fact. The fact remained that she had not dressed for snow. She'd seen snow maybe a dozen times in her life. She'd retrieved her hoodie and put it back on. It had helped, but only so much. The fact remained, there was snow, and there was that awful churning of the snow machine, and their little group was heading right into it all, looking for the lodge that was supposedly around here.
Renée was being sure to keep an eye out for trouble. Enough time had now passed that she willing to bet someone had started playing. She'd even heard a couple of noises that could have been gunshots. There might have been some other explanation, but betting on that would be stupid. She knew how this game worked. She knew that some of her classmates, some people she'd probably eaten lunch with, had probably already become vicious monsters out for blood. They were selfish, snapping at the bit, ready to do anything it took to get home. The ten kill rule was in effect. It always ramped things up, never mind that it was close to impossible to actually achieve. Everyone thought they could be the exception, could blow common sense out of the water and make it.
Renée knew better. To survive, they had to stick together. They had to avoid playing. They had to beat down their self-centered instincts.
She'd have to watch her team, to make positively sure they realized that. She could trust Peter, for sure. He was unarmed, and he'd been decent from the start. He was a known quantity. The others, she was not sure of yet. She would trust them until they gave her reason not to, but she would trust them in a cautious, safe manner.
"This way, guys," she said, gesturing in the direction she thought the lodge was in. It was hard to see clearly with the snow, falling from the sky and irritating her eyes. She thought she could see something, though.
She also thought she could see a figure up ahead.
"I think someone's here," she said, dropping her voice. She'd probably already tipped the other person off to their location, so they'd have to be ready to hit the ground at any second. "Keep calm, and be careful."
((Peter Campbell continued from Man, I Hate Poke Wars))
Chatterchatterchatterchatter.
Peter's teeth clicked together quickly, his entire body quivering from the chill. Man, fuck the cold. Fuck it hard. Peter was from Bryan, Texas, where the sun was hot. Hell, he hadn't even seen snow for at least three years. Not even this fake crap. And honestly, he couldn't give a fuck.
Peter was cold and grumpy.
The walk had been a tense, stressed one. Barely anybody spoke. Besides Renée's directions, there was zero conversation. Peter heard a few definite sounds in the distance, but he tried to block them out. Didn't make him any less scared.
The entire time, he kept his eyes on Tim's back. He didn't notice anything suspicious, so he eased up a little by now. Trudging through the powder, he sped up to beside Renée.
Once Renée spoke her warning, Peter froze, scanning the white landscape. His eyes finally adjusted, seeing the dark silhouette, contrasting sharply with the snow. He dropped his voice to a volume that was audible to Renée, the one closest to him, but not the figure ahead, "Do they look armed?"
Chatterchatterchatterchatter.
Peter's teeth clicked together quickly, his entire body quivering from the chill. Man, fuck the cold. Fuck it hard. Peter was from Bryan, Texas, where the sun was hot. Hell, he hadn't even seen snow for at least three years. Not even this fake crap. And honestly, he couldn't give a fuck.
Peter was cold and grumpy.
The walk had been a tense, stressed one. Barely anybody spoke. Besides Renée's directions, there was zero conversation. Peter heard a few definite sounds in the distance, but he tried to block them out. Didn't make him any less scared.
The entire time, he kept his eyes on Tim's back. He didn't notice anything suspicious, so he eased up a little by now. Trudging through the powder, he sped up to beside Renée.
Once Renée spoke her warning, Peter froze, scanning the white landscape. His eyes finally adjusted, seeing the dark silhouette, contrasting sharply with the snow. He dropped his voice to a volume that was audible to Renée, the one closest to him, but not the figure ahead, "Do they look armed?"
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((Kathy Clements, continued from Man, I Hate Poke Wars))
Snow! It really was beautiful, all the little flakes floating down, even if they were probably artificially generated and all.
All her teammates, meanwhile, seemed to be shivering. Kathy could empathize with them pretty well - she was wearing a T-shirt, for goodness' sake. It was cold. Cold with a capital c. Actually, cold with all caps. COLD. Okay, maybe that was exaggerating it a little. They weren't going to freeze to death.
She stopped when Renée warned them of a figure in the distance. She squinted. Couldn't quite make the figure out. Again, she hoped that they'd be friendly - she certainly wasn't about to hope otherwise. The cane was still clutched firmly in her grasp, however. Self-defense precaution.
She kind of hoped the figure wouldn't want to join their group, though. Two's company, three's a crowd, and Kathy already had three other people traveling with her! She was a little worried it'd get uncomfortable, traveling around in a large pack.
Nothing to do but wait. And shiver.
Snow! It really was beautiful, all the little flakes floating down, even if they were probably artificially generated and all.
All her teammates, meanwhile, seemed to be shivering. Kathy could empathize with them pretty well - she was wearing a T-shirt, for goodness' sake. It was cold. Cold with a capital c. Actually, cold with all caps. COLD. Okay, maybe that was exaggerating it a little. They weren't going to freeze to death.
She stopped when Renée warned them of a figure in the distance. She squinted. Couldn't quite make the figure out. Again, she hoped that they'd be friendly - she certainly wasn't about to hope otherwise. The cane was still clutched firmly in her grasp, however. Self-defense precaution.
She kind of hoped the figure wouldn't want to join their group, though. Two's company, three's a crowd, and Kathy already had three other people traveling with her! She was a little worried it'd get uncomfortable, traveling around in a large pack.
Nothing to do but wait. And shiver.
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Lord_Shadow
- Posts: 536
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((Timothy Walker continued from Man, I Hate Poke Wars))
It was situations like these that Timothy regretted his sense of fashion. As sweet and slick as his suit was, it sure wasn't warm and practical for snow. But no way was he going to be all distraught over it. Besides, he didn't have anything better to put on. Thanks stupid producers. A Hawaiian shirt so comes in handy in a Ski Resort.
He had read through the entire manual on the trip. He had started reading again, for really no other reason than that he didn't want to talk to anyone. Kathy wasn't one to hold a conversation with. Renée, while on his team, was not figured out completely yet in his mind. And Peter was just... Peter.
Or maybe it was just that at some level, Tim just wanted to have both girls all to himself. He smirked at that thought. Like that would ever happen.
Renée seemed to notice someone as they approached. Her voice dropped low. He decided not to waste time. He clicked the safety off, tipped down his hat, and crouched low to the ground. Whoever was there was going to get shot, unless they proved to not be a threat.
"Come on out, I'm ready for you."
It was situations like these that Timothy regretted his sense of fashion. As sweet and slick as his suit was, it sure wasn't warm and practical for snow. But no way was he going to be all distraught over it. Besides, he didn't have anything better to put on. Thanks stupid producers. A Hawaiian shirt so comes in handy in a Ski Resort.
He had read through the entire manual on the trip. He had started reading again, for really no other reason than that he didn't want to talk to anyone. Kathy wasn't one to hold a conversation with. Renée, while on his team, was not figured out completely yet in his mind. And Peter was just... Peter.
Or maybe it was just that at some level, Tim just wanted to have both girls all to himself. He smirked at that thought. Like that would ever happen.
Renée seemed to notice someone as they approached. Her voice dropped low. He decided not to waste time. He clicked the safety off, tipped down his hat, and crouched low to the ground. Whoever was there was going to get shot, unless they proved to not be a threat.
"Come on out, I'm ready for you."
There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
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Hollyquin*
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This was a really fucking terrible song. Somehow Lynn didn't really didn't notice that until she was halfway through the bridge, which sounded exactly like the chorus, which sounded exactly like the verses, because they were all basically just "fuck this" over and over and over. Lynn wasn't musically inclined. She was a goddamn drummer. But she kept singing, anyway, because the sound of her own voice was the only thing keeping her company, until there were other voices, and then that singing thing was over in a hurry, because her singing voice sucked and holy god there are more people here.
Yeah, more than one person, too. If there was just one person, she might be a little less freaked out, because...uh, no, there wasn't really a good reason. She should be freaked out. Because her weapon was a vest. A bulletproof vest, that counted for something, but it wasn't a gun, she couldn't point it at people and make them do stuff. Or not do stuff. Or whatever. She just kind of had to hope the people with guns had shitty aim and couldn't shoot her in the head. Okay, okay, never mind, stop thinking about getting shot, start thinking about the people who were here. Because they were multiple, she heard two voices, and she heard more footsteps, and she was going to panic.
No, she wasn't, but who was running around in a group this early in the game? Had some team already met up? That would be really lucky, this early in the game. No, they were probably just some friends who ran into each other, but that was super lucky, too. Maybe just some people traveling together for protection. That made the most sense, yeah.
Lynn walked towards the voices. This was stupid. This was a stupid idea. She should run really far the other way; every moment she was alone was a moment she was alive. But she wasn't good at being alone, and maybe she knew one of these people. Stupid fake fucking snow storm, she couldn't see who she was walking towards, and she had to yell over the howl of the snow machine to be heard-
"Yo! Who's...who's there?!"
Going to die. Going to die. Definitely going to die.
Yeah, more than one person, too. If there was just one person, she might be a little less freaked out, because...uh, no, there wasn't really a good reason. She should be freaked out. Because her weapon was a vest. A bulletproof vest, that counted for something, but it wasn't a gun, she couldn't point it at people and make them do stuff. Or not do stuff. Or whatever. She just kind of had to hope the people with guns had shitty aim and couldn't shoot her in the head. Okay, okay, never mind, stop thinking about getting shot, start thinking about the people who were here. Because they were multiple, she heard two voices, and she heard more footsteps, and she was going to panic.
No, she wasn't, but who was running around in a group this early in the game? Had some team already met up? That would be really lucky, this early in the game. No, they were probably just some friends who ran into each other, but that was super lucky, too. Maybe just some people traveling together for protection. That made the most sense, yeah.
Lynn walked towards the voices. This was stupid. This was a stupid idea. She should run really far the other way; every moment she was alone was a moment she was alive. But she wasn't good at being alone, and maybe she knew one of these people. Stupid fake fucking snow storm, she couldn't see who she was walking towards, and she had to yell over the howl of the snow machine to be heard-
"Yo! Who's...who's there?!"
Going to die. Going to die. Definitely going to die.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3462
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Peter asked if the figure looked armed. Renée squinted, trying to make the person out, but she couldn't see anything clear through the snow. Whoever it was started heading their way, though. This was potentially going to be pretty awful, if they didn't hold things together.
The newcomer called out. A girl. She had some accent, something unfamiliar to Renée. Maybe like Kathy talked; Renée assumed so, though she hadn't heard Kathy say enough to be at all sure. Renée glanced at her team, and whispered, "I don't think she's armed. Kathy, do you know her? Tim, don't shoot unless she's dangerous. Peter, be sure to stay out of it if she attacks."
Not wasting any time, Renée slipped away a bit, about ten feet from her allies. The snow was slick, her footing unsure. She kept her arms out a little way from her sides, maintaining her balance as best she could. She left the straight razor in her pocket. It would be useless here. Her goal was to draw any fire away from her team, to make sure no one else suffered the consequences for what she was about to do, assuming the mystery girl had a grenade or a big gun and a bad attitude to match.
"It's Renée Carlson," she called. "Team White, but we've got some other people here, too. We aren't looking for conflict."
A simple statement of fact. No subtlety, no deceit. She'd see where that got her.
The newcomer called out. A girl. She had some accent, something unfamiliar to Renée. Maybe like Kathy talked; Renée assumed so, though she hadn't heard Kathy say enough to be at all sure. Renée glanced at her team, and whispered, "I don't think she's armed. Kathy, do you know her? Tim, don't shoot unless she's dangerous. Peter, be sure to stay out of it if she attacks."
Not wasting any time, Renée slipped away a bit, about ten feet from her allies. The snow was slick, her footing unsure. She kept her arms out a little way from her sides, maintaining her balance as best she could. She left the straight razor in her pocket. It would be useless here. Her goal was to draw any fire away from her team, to make sure no one else suffered the consequences for what she was about to do, assuming the mystery girl had a grenade or a big gun and a bad attitude to match.
"It's Renée Carlson," she called. "Team White, but we've got some other people here, too. We aren't looking for conflict."
A simple statement of fact. No subtlety, no deceit. She'd see where that got her.
The first thing Peter noticed was a click. Everything else seemed to be drowned out by the harsh mechanical sound, the cacophony vibrating through his head. He turned his head, looking at the boy behind him. The boy holding a gun.
His first instinct was to dive into the snow, and make himself as flat as possible. Before that could happen, however, his reason kicked in. He soon realized that Tim was obviously not pointing a gun at him, Renée, or Kathy. He was pointing it at the figure.
Still, his heart pounded at a mile a minute. The hot thumping heard through his ears. He turned again to the figure, who had called out to them. He squinted, attempting to get a better look at them.
Renée spoke her instructions. Peter nodded curtly, holding his tongue. He did not thing it was a good idea to stay out if a fight happened, but he said nothing. Worst comes to worst, he would disobey her orders. She was a leader, but not a dictator. Peter knew that he had a right to disobey. But he wanted to see how this would play out. If this figure proved to be a threat, Peter planned to be on her quicker than a bullet from the barrel of Tim's gun.
Unconsciously, Peter took a step forward. He stopped himself, watching intently.
His first instinct was to dive into the snow, and make himself as flat as possible. Before that could happen, however, his reason kicked in. He soon realized that Tim was obviously not pointing a gun at him, Renée, or Kathy. He was pointing it at the figure.
Still, his heart pounded at a mile a minute. The hot thumping heard through his ears. He turned again to the figure, who had called out to them. He squinted, attempting to get a better look at them.
Renée spoke her instructions. Peter nodded curtly, holding his tongue. He did not thing it was a good idea to stay out if a fight happened, but he said nothing. Worst comes to worst, he would disobey her orders. She was a leader, but not a dictator. Peter knew that he had a right to disobey. But he wanted to see how this would play out. If this figure proved to be a threat, Peter planned to be on her quicker than a bullet from the barrel of Tim's gun.
Unconsciously, Peter took a step forward. He stopped himself, watching intently.
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Timothy was assuming a dangerous position. Most positions looked dangerous when wielding a loaded gun. Kathy briefly had the urge to stop him - just tell him to stand down, to stop pointing that thing at everyone they met. The impulse was a dangerous one as well. What if the figure actually had a gun? What if the figure didn't have good intentions in mind? That little impulse to stop Timothy could have meant death to them all.
So Kathy just did what she did best. Absolutely nothing.
That is, until Renée asked her if she recognized the figure. The snow was pretty thick; it was hard to see. Some girl, obviously, from the voice. A white girl. Everyone was white in the snow. Caucasian white, not snow white. Taller than Kathy. Definitely not a dwarf.
Kathy scanned through her mental dossier of people quickly. There weren't that many white people at Detroit. Why was this so hard?
A name jumped out at her, but she wasn't sure if it was right. "Yeah, I think she goes to the same school I go to. I think her name's... Lynn?" She shook her head. "She hangs out with a lot of guys and stuff. I don't really know her that well..."
She took a quick glance at Timothy and his gun again. Wasn't sure why. Nervousness? Peter looked a little skittish, too, but it could have just been her imagination.
So Kathy just did what she did best. Absolutely nothing.
That is, until Renée asked her if she recognized the figure. The snow was pretty thick; it was hard to see. Some girl, obviously, from the voice. A white girl. Everyone was white in the snow. Caucasian white, not snow white. Taller than Kathy. Definitely not a dwarf.
Kathy scanned through her mental dossier of people quickly. There weren't that many white people at Detroit. Why was this so hard?
A name jumped out at her, but she wasn't sure if it was right. "Yeah, I think she goes to the same school I go to. I think her name's... Lynn?" She shook her head. "She hangs out with a lot of guys and stuff. I don't really know her that well..."
She took a quick glance at Timothy and his gun again. Wasn't sure why. Nervousness? Peter looked a little skittish, too, but it could have just been her imagination.
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Lord_Shadow
- Posts: 536
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- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
Tim couldn't see well in the stupid fake blizzard. There was no way he would get a good shot off if he had to. Renée had instructed him not to shoot unless the other person was dangerous. He wanted to shoot her a look just to let her know how ridiculously stupid that suggestion was. Of course everyone else on the island was a danger.
The only way they wouldn't be a danger would be if they were no longer breathing. "Don't think you can give me orders girl. I'm the guy with the gun, don't you forget that." He adjusted his hat.
Kathy dropped a name, at Renée's request, and Peter was off being useless. Their fearless leader said that they weren't looking for conflict.
"Screw that." Tim muttered under his breath.
He caught an outline of a person in the blizzard. The sunglasses didn't help him at all, but he wasn't going to take them off. He took a breath, and spoke.
"Listen here and listen good, Lynn. You're going to come out where we can see you, hands in the air. Try anything, anything at all and I'll make sure you regret it. If you do as told I can promise you that you won't be hurt. Otherwise, we'll have a problem."
If Renée and Peter and Kathy didn't like how he took charge of things, they could say so to a gun barrel. They took too damn long with their talking. They were on SOTF, and it demanded action. He wished he could see a camera. He was sure there was one, watching. Watching him. All eyes were on him, waiting to see what he would do.
"Well mystery person, what are you gonna do?"
The only way they wouldn't be a danger would be if they were no longer breathing. "Don't think you can give me orders girl. I'm the guy with the gun, don't you forget that." He adjusted his hat.
Kathy dropped a name, at Renée's request, and Peter was off being useless. Their fearless leader said that they weren't looking for conflict.
"Screw that." Tim muttered under his breath.
He caught an outline of a person in the blizzard. The sunglasses didn't help him at all, but he wasn't going to take them off. He took a breath, and spoke.
"Listen here and listen good, Lynn. You're going to come out where we can see you, hands in the air. Try anything, anything at all and I'll make sure you regret it. If you do as told I can promise you that you won't be hurt. Otherwise, we'll have a problem."
If Renée and Peter and Kathy didn't like how he took charge of things, they could say so to a gun barrel. They took too damn long with their talking. They were on SOTF, and it demanded action. He wished he could see a camera. He was sure there was one, watching. Watching him. All eyes were on him, waiting to see what he would do.
"Well mystery person, what are you gonna do?"
There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
"It's Renée Carlson. Team White, but we've got some other people here, too. We aren't looking for conflict."
Okay. That didn't sound so bad. Not that the name struck any sort of chord with her- god, 'Renée', seriously? That just screams 'overprivileged white girl'. The other school's a private school, right? Yeah, betcha she's from there... The white team wasn't her team, so sure, it could've been better, but she said that it wasn't just a squadron of Team White running around here. They had some people from other teams too, so they must not be bothering with the team-segregation thing just yet. Which was good with her, since the grey team was not doing a good job of finding her.
Lynn took another couple of steps forward. Her vision was clearing, a little. God, it was a big group. The bigger the group, the more likely one of them had a gun. The more likely one of them had a gun, the more likely she was going to die. Stop thinking like that. She said, not looking for conflict, right? I can do that, the not-conflict-thing. Even so, she was grateful for the cover of the snowstorm. Her torso would be the obvious target, if someone decided to be a dick and shoot. STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.
"Listen here and listen good, Lynn."
HOLY SHIT HOW DOES HE KNOW MY NAME. Because it was definitely a boy's voice speaking this time, and not one she recognized, either. Probably another one from rich-kid school, which did not explain why he was calling her by name. Fucking trippy. Maybe he had, like, some device that...told him what people's names were? Somehow? Did that make sense? No?
"Lynn. You're going to come out where we can see you, hands in the air. Try anything, anything at all and I'll make sure you regret it. If you do as told I can promise you that you won't be hurt. Otherwise, we'll have a problem."
Jesus Christ.
So much for not looking for fucking conflict. Good for her that she didn't have anything to try anything with, yeah? Or she might've been tempted. Talking to her like that, this boy, whoever he was, he was obviously looking for a fight. The way he was talking, though- sounded like a cop, almost. He probably had a gun, or something else good at least. Anything was better than what she had, of course, but it wasn't like they knew that.
"Alright, alright," Lynn called out, raising her hands above her head as she stepped a bit further forward. There were four of them. Jesus. And one of them was pointing a gun at her. She really, really didn't like having guns pointed at her, she was learning. "Jesus, can you put the gun down? This is my weapon. I'm wearing it. Bulletproof vest. It's nice and all, but it's not exactly a danger to you guys, yeah?"
Okay. That didn't sound so bad. Not that the name struck any sort of chord with her- god, 'Renée', seriously? That just screams 'overprivileged white girl'. The other school's a private school, right? Yeah, betcha she's from there... The white team wasn't her team, so sure, it could've been better, but she said that it wasn't just a squadron of Team White running around here. They had some people from other teams too, so they must not be bothering with the team-segregation thing just yet. Which was good with her, since the grey team was not doing a good job of finding her.
Lynn took another couple of steps forward. Her vision was clearing, a little. God, it was a big group. The bigger the group, the more likely one of them had a gun. The more likely one of them had a gun, the more likely she was going to die. Stop thinking like that. She said, not looking for conflict, right? I can do that, the not-conflict-thing. Even so, she was grateful for the cover of the snowstorm. Her torso would be the obvious target, if someone decided to be a dick and shoot. STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.
"Listen here and listen good, Lynn."
HOLY SHIT HOW DOES HE KNOW MY NAME. Because it was definitely a boy's voice speaking this time, and not one she recognized, either. Probably another one from rich-kid school, which did not explain why he was calling her by name. Fucking trippy. Maybe he had, like, some device that...told him what people's names were? Somehow? Did that make sense? No?
"Lynn. You're going to come out where we can see you, hands in the air. Try anything, anything at all and I'll make sure you regret it. If you do as told I can promise you that you won't be hurt. Otherwise, we'll have a problem."
Jesus Christ.
So much for not looking for fucking conflict. Good for her that she didn't have anything to try anything with, yeah? Or she might've been tempted. Talking to her like that, this boy, whoever he was, he was obviously looking for a fight. The way he was talking, though- sounded like a cop, almost. He probably had a gun, or something else good at least. Anything was better than what she had, of course, but it wasn't like they knew that.
"Alright, alright," Lynn called out, raising her hands above her head as she stepped a bit further forward. There were four of them. Jesus. And one of them was pointing a gun at her. She really, really didn't like having guns pointed at her, she was learning. "Jesus, can you put the gun down? This is my weapon. I'm wearing it. Bulletproof vest. It's nice and all, but it's not exactly a danger to you guys, yeah?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. 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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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3462
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Renée glared at Tim as he pretty much undid all the work she'd put towards building some good faith. The first day, and it was already quite clear he was going to be a problem. Starting things was stupid, leading with threats near-suicidal. What if the girl tossed a grenade in their direction, just to make sure she wasn't getting ambushed? Oh, Renée was going to have to talk with her allies later. She was going to have to explain how things worked in this game, how to avoid getting butchered and falling prey to paranoia.
For now, though, she had to do some damage control. She had to work on this new girl, try to get her on their side, seeing things their way. No killing. Cooperation. Teamwork. Doing the right thing. The girl, Lynn, asked for the gun to be lowered, and Renée said, "Yeah, Tim, come on. Lower it. She's not a danger, and, like I said, we aren't looking any trouble. We're not playing."
It was as much an admonition to Tim as it was a reassurance for the girl. Renée was willing to trust her for the moment, willing to accept that her weapon was, in fact, a bulletproof vest. That would certainly be a useful asset to have in play. Defensive items could, in the long run, be much more worthwhile than big fancy guns. Of course, Renée would still keep her guard up. She wasn't naïve.
So, time to make everyone feel a bit more at home and welcome. Renée gestured around the group, at the same time saying, "This is Peter, and that's Kathy, and the guy with the gun is Tim. He's the pit bull we keep around to scare off players."
Tim probably wouldn't really appreciate that descriptor, but Renée didn't exactly appreciate him trampling their plans for the sake of his machismo or fear or whatever it was he had going on. He'd have to shape up if he wanted to stick with the team. Renée cared not a bit that he was her assigned ally; she would ditch him in a second if he threatened the people she actually cared about. It was important that Tim understood that fact.
She walked back to the main segment of the group, fairly confident they were not all about to be blown to pieces. She moved pretty slowly, again being sure not to trip on the snow.
For now, though, she had to do some damage control. She had to work on this new girl, try to get her on their side, seeing things their way. No killing. Cooperation. Teamwork. Doing the right thing. The girl, Lynn, asked for the gun to be lowered, and Renée said, "Yeah, Tim, come on. Lower it. She's not a danger, and, like I said, we aren't looking any trouble. We're not playing."
It was as much an admonition to Tim as it was a reassurance for the girl. Renée was willing to trust her for the moment, willing to accept that her weapon was, in fact, a bulletproof vest. That would certainly be a useful asset to have in play. Defensive items could, in the long run, be much more worthwhile than big fancy guns. Of course, Renée would still keep her guard up. She wasn't naïve.
So, time to make everyone feel a bit more at home and welcome. Renée gestured around the group, at the same time saying, "This is Peter, and that's Kathy, and the guy with the gun is Tim. He's the pit bull we keep around to scare off players."
Tim probably wouldn't really appreciate that descriptor, but Renée didn't exactly appreciate him trampling their plans for the sake of his machismo or fear or whatever it was he had going on. He'd have to shape up if he wanted to stick with the team. Renée cared not a bit that he was her assigned ally; she would ditch him in a second if he threatened the people she actually cared about. It was important that Tim understood that fact.
She walked back to the main segment of the group, fairly confident they were not all about to be blown to pieces. She moved pretty slowly, again being sure not to trip on the snow.
Goddamn it.
Goddamn it.
What the fucking fuck fuck fuck.
"Tim, please put the gun down," Peter asked cautiously.
The girl's figure took more form as she stepped closer. Peter gave a small nod of his head as his name was given, holding back a snicker at Tim's introduction. He watched Tim from the corner of his eye, hoping to whatever higher being there was to let Tim see sense and lower the gun.
As Renée returned to the group, Peter said, "Don't worry about us. We're not playing." Hoping this assured her a bit, he took a step forward and offered his hand to her.
Goddamn it.
What the fucking fuck fuck fuck.
"Tim, please put the gun down," Peter asked cautiously.
The girl's figure took more form as she stepped closer. Peter gave a small nod of his head as his name was given, holding back a snicker at Tim's introduction. He watched Tim from the corner of his eye, hoping to whatever higher being there was to let Tim see sense and lower the gun.
As Renée returned to the group, Peter said, "Don't worry about us. We're not playing." Hoping this assured her a bit, he took a step forward and offered his hand to her.
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Too much tension in the air. Kathy could just feel the rising action of the plot, if this was a story, and if she was particularly inclined to do so. It flitted through her mind for an instant, the thought, but it wasn't something she really wanted to dwell on. Rising action tended to lead to a climax, and that might mean that someone would get shot. It wasn't exactly sound practice to compare life to a story, anyway.
Lynn seemed sincere enough; she said her weapon was a bulletproof vest. No danger there, right? Maybe Timothy would put down the gun. Peter had asked him to, right? Peter, Timothy, and Renée surely all knew and trusted each other, they were all from the same school and stuff. Timothy would put down the gun, for sure.
Hopefully.
She raised her unoccupied hand halfway, as if to wave at Lynn, but didn't. It dropped back down to her side. Her other hand gripped the cane as if for support. Introductions, peaceful measures, then get out of the situation, find the resort. That's what she hoped would happen, and she hoped it would happen quick.
Too much tension.
Lynn seemed sincere enough; she said her weapon was a bulletproof vest. No danger there, right? Maybe Timothy would put down the gun. Peter had asked him to, right? Peter, Timothy, and Renée surely all knew and trusted each other, they were all from the same school and stuff. Timothy would put down the gun, for sure.
Hopefully.
She raised her unoccupied hand halfway, as if to wave at Lynn, but didn't. It dropped back down to her side. Her other hand gripped the cane as if for support. Introductions, peaceful measures, then get out of the situation, find the resort. That's what she hoped would happen, and she hoped it would happen quick.
Too much tension.
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Lord_Shadow
- Posts: 536
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:43 am
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
Things went about as well as he expected. The response was not shooting, no weapons brandished, not even the sound of running away. Clearly, he was dealing with someone who got dealt crap and wasn't smart enough to run the moment trouble found them. Predictably, the others were not happy or impressed with what he had done.
Tim really didn't give a damn. He had the gun. The only reason they were around was to intimidate weaker players into not attacking a large group. Besides, they all had crap for weapons too. Even so, he did as they asked, if for no other reason than that he wasn't ready to start his solo run yet.
"Right, right. I get it. A little intimidation is all that was. You may not remember it boys and girls but we're on Survival of the Fittest. Eventually we're going to run into someone that's gonna shoot first. Just remember that when that happens, I'm the one that's going to handle the situation." He lowered the gun, but didn't click the safety back on.
No more doing that. He had read that manual long enough to feel comfortable leaving it off. Besides, the extra second it would take to click off might mean life or death.
"If you don't mind, leader, I'm gonna go with Kathy and take care of a promise I made." He adjusted his sunglasses, which still weren't helping. He looked at Kathy. "Kat, let's go and find you that paper. These two clearly have it under control. The Resort is that way, let's move."
He started off in the direction of the Resort itself. He wasn't going to stick around for Renée's little idealistic-diplomacy-super-friends-train of idiotic thought process. The weapon in his hands was proof enough that kind of thinking was only going to succeed in getting someone killed. He didn't look back to see if Kathy followed him, he didn't stick around to hear Renée's reply. He needed to get away from the idiocy. He had to.
How could he play if the others were constantly reminding him of what he was destroying with his current mentality?
Tim really didn't give a damn. He had the gun. The only reason they were around was to intimidate weaker players into not attacking a large group. Besides, they all had crap for weapons too. Even so, he did as they asked, if for no other reason than that he wasn't ready to start his solo run yet.
"Right, right. I get it. A little intimidation is all that was. You may not remember it boys and girls but we're on Survival of the Fittest. Eventually we're going to run into someone that's gonna shoot first. Just remember that when that happens, I'm the one that's going to handle the situation." He lowered the gun, but didn't click the safety back on.
No more doing that. He had read that manual long enough to feel comfortable leaving it off. Besides, the extra second it would take to click off might mean life or death.
"If you don't mind, leader, I'm gonna go with Kathy and take care of a promise I made." He adjusted his sunglasses, which still weren't helping. He looked at Kathy. "Kat, let's go and find you that paper. These two clearly have it under control. The Resort is that way, let's move."
He started off in the direction of the Resort itself. He wasn't going to stick around for Renée's little idealistic-diplomacy-super-friends-train of idiotic thought process. The weapon in his hands was proof enough that kind of thinking was only going to succeed in getting someone killed. He didn't look back to see if Kathy followed him, he didn't stick around to hear Renée's reply. He needed to get away from the idiocy. He had to.
How could he play if the others were constantly reminding him of what he was destroying with his current mentality?
There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.