Yo dawg, I heard you like SOTF, so... Wait, you hate SOTF?!? Well, sucks to be you, pal.

[DerArknight]

Quentin would have never expected to become a cavemen.

((Quentin B. Skinner continued from A Headless Blunder Operating Under the Illusion of a Master Plan))

The journey had turned out to be quite the ordeal. Partly because the research station redused to show up. Either they all sucked at following a straight road or the map wasn't exactly to scale. Partly because two of their members were slow AF. The first one was obvious, the other one... was Q himself. Turned out that his ankle wasn't chill with walking around all day. The pain sucked, but even more sucked that he was slightly slower than Billie, making him the bigger liability of the group. Thankfully, it appeared that no one suspected shit. Or cared.

Eventually they stumble onto the cave. Surely not a proper building, but shelter was shelter, so he wasn't gonna complain. Better than outside. Plus the two corpses would probably scare away others, morbid as it was.

And so, the fourth day of their unwilling vacation at murder-island arrived. Probably the least rad thing since ingrown fingernails.

Somehow Quentin managed to nap until Danya's wake-up call. Names and bad puns were thrown around while he groggily stood up. Lotsa folk had bitten it yesterday, but Q was starting to care less. Better them than him. And this was the third time Danya pulled a radio host. Even hearing about friends dying lost its charm eventually.

Once the announcement finished with the assurance that they wouldn't have to haul ass right now, Quentin rubbed his eyes and looked around at what his merry band of classmates was doing.

[Skraal]

((Billie Sommerfield continued from A Headless Blunder Operating Under the Illusion of a Master Plan))

Billie groaned as the sound of the announcements woke her up, staring around the room with bleary eyes as yet another cohort of her classmates was listed off as dead. It almost felt routine at this point, and even the horrific subject matter was barely enough to keep her focused on the announcer's droning. After all, it wasn't like listening would do her much good. Knowing a particular person could be dangerous wasn't very useful information if your chances of fighting back or running away were slim at best. If someone wanted her dead, she'd be dead, and there wasn't a lot she could do about it. It was an extremely depressing thought, but after all these years the cold grasp of despondency was a feeling she was well acquainted with.

Even without the pondering of her own inevitable demise, the present situation was far from pleasant. This was yet another night that she had slept in her chair, and every part of her body that she could still feel was sore as hell. She tried her best to use the armrests to shift her body around, painfully aware of the risk of developing pressure sores from being stuck in one position for so long. The growing anxiety surrounding it was driving her crazy, and even if she was willing to risk spending an extended amount of time on the ground in such a dangerous situation, there was no way she'd be able to properly inspect her body with three boys around.

Maybe if she could sneak out for a few minutes, she could take a look, but even that would require to trust all three of those guys not to follow her, and worse, that nobody else would walk in on her. Even if she could get some privacy, the fact that she'd have to be doing it while lying down in the snow would make the whole ordeal a nightmare. Those two facts posed a near insurmountable dilemma - if she wanted privacy, she'd have to leave the cave, and if she wanted shelter, she'd have to bear the humiliation of both explaining and doing her inspection in the presence of the three guys who probably had no idea that this was even a concern to begin with.

The whole situation made her want to scream. Why did she even allow herself to be talked into sticking around with these guys anyway? Yeah, there was the whole "safety in numbers" thing, but the meatshielding in the world wouldn't do her any good if she managed to contract blood poisoning due to bed sores, or a UTI - god damn it, this was getting worse by the second. She had to get out of this cave for a bit. If nothing else, the cold air and the relative silence would clear her head enough to let her plan out what she wanted to do next. She coughed, looking around the group, deliberately avoiding eye contact with any of them.

"I need to, uh... use the bathroom. I'll be back in a little bit, I just need some privacy right now."

Without waiting for a response, she began turning herself around so that she could leave.

((Billie Sommerfield continued in The Beast That Shouted "I" at the Heart of the World))

[CardboardAirplane]

Shit man, he’s been really collecting horrible nights of sleep like Pokémon cards. Each of these days seemed to only get worse and like, damn Danya, couldn’t at least give them some sleeping bags?

(Jack Kilgore continued from A Headless Blunder Operating Under the Illusion of a Master Plan)

Just for a second, Danya already threw everyone onto a death island of death, the least he could do was make things just a bit more comfortable. Was that not possible? Even getting all these weird-ass weapons? Come on man, Jack had at least a bullshit excuse as to why more beds should be available on the island. Better sleep means being more alert and active which means that sadistic fuck could have better fights to get off on or something. He was sure he could negotiate with terrorists. What kind of rebuttal did he have, huh? He wanted answers.

And just so others were aware, he made it clear the dead bodies did not make things any better for him. He wished he could’ve like, moved them away or something. Corpses scared away others—they scared him too! Unnerved him a bit man. Least they were out of sight for him. And at least they were folks he didn't really know. Doesn't make anyone any less dead.

By the time the announcement arrived, he felt absolutely horrible. He liked to imagine he was having it the worst out of anyone. If anyone could give him sympathy, he’d appreciate it. That jerkass started talking and he didn’t bother listening this time. Perhaps it was fine to ignore it for now, these other kids could tell him if he needed to know something. If he wasn’t told anything important then it should be fine. Seriously, Jack was pretty sure in a couple days he’ll probably end up nocturnal because of this game.

At the moment his mind wasn’t really functioning beyond basic comprehension so he heard what wheelchair girl was saying. He didn’t care to pay attention to the specifics. Something about leaving, yeah, sure, do it, didn’t need to tell him, he was getting grouchy right now. He wanted a minute or two to fully wake up.

[decoy73]

((David Worth continued from A Headless Blunder Operating Under the Illusion of a Master Plan))

The names were starting to run together. People he knew were dying, and it was starting to blend in.

Mitch ...

"Seventh vote, and the second member of the jury ... Mitch."

"Aw, fuck you. I've been snookered!" Mitch just smiled as he handed over his pink merge buff.

"Mitch, the tribe has spoken."

Mitch was a special case - he played just as recklessly both times, nearly winning once with his devil may care attitude. Of course, that's what made Mitch's near victory in season 1 so surprising - he'd do what he wanted, to the point where David always thought that Mitch was a lock to leave, but Mitch had been just charming and funny enough to squeeze through.

Zhijuan ...

"Seventh vote, and the first person voted out of Survivor: All-Stars ... Zhijuan."

Zhijuan just smirked as she handed over her red buff. Everyone had piled onto her because they knew she would have beaten them if they hadn't.

"Zhijuan, the tribe has spoken."

Marian ...

"Eighth vote, and the third member of the jury ... Marian."

Marian stood up and handed over her green merge buff.

"Marian, the tribe has spoken."

Cedar ...

"Fifth vote, and the fifth person voted out of Survivor: Gone Wild ... Cedar."

Cedar just chuckled as she handed her white buff over to David. She'd done this more for recreation than out of any love for the game, and it unfortunately came back to prevent her from going further.

"Cedar, the tribe has spoken."

Dominiqua ...

"The winner of Survivor: All-Stars ..."

Dominiqua didn't win, but she still had tears streaming down her eyes. Whereas in her first season, she's relied on her challenge prowess, this time she'd had a social game, and even though she got second, it was an honorable, hard fought battle. David even smiled as he shook her hand. She'd done good, and he wasn't surprised that the final vote had been this close.

So it wasn't all that good for David, as he simply grunted out an acknowledgement when Billie went for a piss. He just wanted someone to come, but nobody was going to come. He just stared at the spot where Dominiqua, well, her body was. They just had to have a reminder.

[DerArknight]

Seemed like the mood was in the gutter. No big shock to Quentin. Woulda been awkward to see folks dancing to the beat of happiness right now.

The one least likely to dance announced her intentions of a number two. Q nodded in response, not really caring. Billie seemed like the careful type, so she probably wouldn't go to far and get herself merked.

And even if trouble found their hideout, he was prepared with the heat he packed. The Chiappa Rhino made him the most important member of the group, and the only reason he wasn't calling no shots was that he figured leading from the shadows was rad. All he had to do was not letting anyone forget his trump card. The thought made him give a slight smile for a moment and his hand reached into the pocket where his gun was.

Or rather, where his gun was supposed to be.

"Huh?"

With a confused frown, he checked his other pockets.

Then he grabbed his flashlight and illuminated the ground. There was an empty backpack that had been lying there when they entered, but nothing else.

Finally he took a closer look into his backpack. Indeed, the magazines were gone.

It was at this point that his confusing made way for anger.

"Hey," he turned around, his voice dripping with venom. "Who the fuck stole my gun?"

[CardboardAirplane]

Jack let out a small groan as someones voice roared in his ears.

"Why so loud?" He asked before the words even entered his brain; a sense of dread would slowly fill his mind as he took in what was actually being said here.

"What, huh, you mean like, what?"

Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he blinked a couple of times just to try and wake himself up just a little bit before looking over at the other boy with the backpack. Just the actual question and the subject matter alone was enough to get him mostly thinking straight. Well the best anyone could do for that on this island anyway.

"Bro, I'm sure you just like, dropped it or something, just like, use that beam of light to look around or something."

He waved a hand as to dismiss the entire question. The truth of what had actually happened deep in his mind, just not being dragged out up front and center to him.

Jack slowly stood up and grabbed his own flashlight with a questionable look. He fiddled around with it for a moment before turning it on and waving it around lightly.

"Sure you got no butterfingers? Didn't roll over in your sleep last night and I don't fucking know, push it aside, I guess? Did you check the last place you put it?"

[decoy73]

"Who the fuck stole my gun?"

David just looked at Quentin, and Jack. His hands quirked up for a second as he looked around.

He didn't say anything. Since he figured that in this situation, anything short of "Oh, there it is. You must have dropped it" would only serve to escalate.

[DerArknight]

"Yes, I fucking did check the last place," Quentin retorted to Jack's question. "As well as the second-to-last. And the ground. It wasn't anywhere."

Billie had already wheeled away, but Quentin let it slide. Without functioning legs, nabbing the gun and ammo woulda been tough, so she was safe. Plus, getting klept by a wheelchair girl woulda been darn embarrassing.

The two boys on the other hand were sus. Fortunately, they had been sleeping farther into the cave, allowing Quentin to block the entrance with his frame.

"Let's make this clear: I ain't gonna let this slide, so whoever did this better fesses up." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and straightened his posturre to appear bigger.

And this was all he could do. Without the gun, Q lacked anything to back up his words. He had to retrieve it fast or they were gonna catch on.

"Otherwise, you two can go ahead and strip while Wheelie is gone. Bastard should have it still on him."

Yeah, that would be the easiest way. Strip-searching was probably illegal, but Quentin didn't care right now. There were no cops on this island.

[CardboardAirplane]

"Ew, gross—hell nah bitch, you remember we're being fucking recorded all the time?!" He hissed. "I ain't doing no strip tease for the whole world to see!"

There were probably children watching! Or something like that, he didn't know. Odds are there was probably at least one so if anything, Quentin is in the wrong for even suggesting this idea.

He started to walk towards freedom and sunlight before Quentin took his spot as gatekeeper. The word "bitch" silently mouthed as the other boy became a roadblock.

Moral obligations were there, but he still felt like denying to the search was the wrong thing to do. If you have nothing to hide, then you've got nothing to fear. Something like that meant saying no probably set off some red flags in the other two's minds. On the other hand, saying yes would just be a death sentence since he had the—

Oh yeah he totally stole it. Ah hell, what did it matter now? They didn't need to do this Among Us bullshit. He wasn't alone in this confrontation anymore.

He had someone else in the form of an aluminum gun-shaped friend, which was now pulled out in front of him. That's the kind of company he desired long enough. Quentin Tarantino may have been bigger and stronger but that didn't matter when he had the actual weapon.

Firepower aside, his heart rate still shot up probably a million beats. Jack was already envisioning multiple scenarios going horribly wrong for him and he just wanted out.

"Better idea, and it's like, totally sweet, alright?" Jack would start to slowly step back, the barrel of the gun darting back and forth between Quentin and David.

"How about you stand aside, I get to leave, and... Uh—fuck I don't know, good things will happen I say."

[decoy73]

David had nothing to hide. If it kept the peace, he'd have probably emptied his bag out and stripped down to his underwear (there was no way his underwear was going to hide a gun, and the weather meant that he wasn't going to have his pants around his ankles for any period of time longer than three minutes).

Jack pulling out said gun likely was not going to keep the peace. Jack had a gun, no, a stolen gun. And he didn't need all that much muscle to pull a trigger. David reflexively raised his hands.

"Seriously? You're doing this?" he asked Jack. "Just .. just give the fucking gun back and we can get on with this."

[CardboardAirplane]

Just David moving his hands up was enough for Jack to jerk the gun towards his direction.

Any sort of movement put him on edge; he didn't know what the hell these two were going to do. If everyone could just stand still and not do anything, that'd be really nice for him.

"Yes brah, I'm doing this." He snapped back. He moved over to his own bag with erratic but slow steps, almost like someone drunkenly stumbling and to try hard not to fall over. He grabbed it and slung it over his shoulder.

"Come on, what's your damage? It's not like I even hurt you in any way. Stay out of this, alright—in fact just like, move. Leave. Farther back into the cave you go." He waved his other hand, motioning for the boy to move.

Like David had the gall to talk back in any way. Last time he checked, he wasn't the one with the deadly weapon. In fact, it wasn't even like David had any stakes in this. Whether Quentin or Jack had it, why did it even matter to this kid? Either way it still wouldn't be him so saying anything would just be pointless.

He would continue to stare, making sure David didn't try anything nasty.

[DerArknight]

So it was Jack who stole his gun. Fucking Jack. Jerk thought he could just steal Quentin's gun and get away with it. Quentin made a fist and said nothing while Jack alternated between pointing at him and David. Cause when someone pointed a gun at you, doing nothing was like the natural thing to do.

But Q would get his chance if he waited. There were only like four or five meters between them and he had the high ground. One moment was enough and Quentin would storm forward to tackle this wannabe-Lupin to the ground. Then he could either beat his head in or shoot him after retaking his weapon. It would be bloody, but 1) He needed to let everyone know not to mess with him and 2) Jack was clearly the one who started it, so David and Billie would side with Q.

And then Jack indeed spend his whole attention on David, giving Quentin the perfect opening to...

"GYIAH!"

... make one step, accidentally put his entire weight on his hurt ankle and let out a howl when the pain send him further tumbling down the cave, now without the necessary speed or control to properly tackle anyone.

[CardboardAirplane]

Oh fuck, the fat kid! He took his eyes off of him for a second and something was going wrong.

But of course, of fucking course! It was two against one, so he had to have half of his attention towards each person. Instead, this dumbass started talking and Jack had to put all of his focus towards him instead.

He's gotta act quick, there was no way he would have been getting out of here without a beating if he happened to lose his power here. But what? He had the fucking gun, but he didn't think he'd actually be shooting anybody. Their faults for not leaving him alone, he wasn't the one that wanted to escalate. He just wanted to leave peacefully.

What could he have done? He could have fired a warning shot. He could just point it at the ground and fire. Surely that would have gotten anyone to stop in their tracks. Bring them back to reality and get them to realize that staying still would be the best move for everyone involved. It wouldn't even be the hardest thing to do. His finger was already on the trigger. Saves him the small moment of time to move his finger down to the trigger guard.

But what if that didn't do anything? Maybe if he aimed at his leg or something so it'd cripple the guy. Gets the point across and means that the attempt to disarm him would stop.

He could also just sidestep out of the way. That too.

Running past him was also an idea.

All those thoughts appeared a little too late as just a moment before, he heard the scream, let out a cry of his own, and turned towards the noise. The gun would override his thought process as he clenched his hand and fired on reflex.

[DerArknight]

For a moment, the gunfire illuminated the entire cave. It illuminated David's shocked face as much as the panic in Jack's eyes as much as the empty backpack on the ground. But most imprtantly, it illuminated the bullet entering Quentin's torso, ripping straight into his left lung.

The large boy sputtered, blood almost instantly rushing up his throat as he fell to his knees. He didn't believe it. There had to be some sort of mistake. He still had stuff to do. There was the pack of weed hidden under his bed at home. There was Morbius, the movie about his favorite comic character, coming out in a few months. There was that cute girl he often saw on the bus. There was Jack who really deserved a beating for first stealing his gun and then shooting him like that.

So much unfinished business. But the hot pain in his chest made it clear that his time had run out.

And so, all Q could do was stare angrily in the face of his murderer and give one final declaration towards the world.

"Fffuckkkk yyyoouuuuu..."

S116 Quentin B. Skinner - Deceased
93 Students Remain

[decoy73]

Quentin ...

"So that's our nine guys. Who do we want as backup?" David asked.

"I know Quentin would be a good one. Weren't we this close to having him on, anyway?" asked Lillian.

"Yeah, and then for the next season, he can come in, no problem," finished Ethan. Lillian nodded.

This was actually hitting him. The others died, but it was a faraway thing. But Quentin? That happened right in front of him, and it wasn't even an accident. At that second, if he'd thought it through, he might have either attempted to get Billie or bail.

David did not think it through. He charged at Jack, going for his waist.