Donald was having a no-good, extremely very, very, very bad day.
But that wasn’t so surprising, there was no such thing as T.G.I.F when you worked for the Arthro Taskforce.
If it wasn’t one horrifying morally deranged thing or logistical nightmare it was another. In this instance, retribution. The consequences of their own actions. They were under attack. Who could it be? The reality was, when you worked for the Arthro Taskforce, it could be anyone. Any world government. A group of wronged and well-resourced survivors or families of survivors. Hell, maybe just a generic and opportunistic group of mercs or pirates that just happened to be at the right place at the wrong time. It could be the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny united to save the children of the world. No matter how you sliced it, Donald could only find one way to describe it…
They were fucked and shit was going down.
The mood within the compound was frantic and buzzing, the tension was high, and the energy was gung-ho. They had plans if things went wrong. Contingencies and protocols. But what did that really matter? When the fire broke out, everybody ran to the exits. Everybody panicked. It wasn’t a drill and so you couldn’t drill for it. A well-rehearsed disaster was still a disaster.
Running through the halls Donald was stopped suddenly and sharply by a collision. He bumped and bristled as the figure sputtered and cussed at him. Cecily. Another experienced and veteran presence on the team, which meant, of course, someone that Donald was beholden to.
“Watch where you’re going intern,” Cecily spat, “don’t you see that we’re kind of in the middle of something serious…?”
“Of course! I’m trying to figure out what’s going on…”
“So is Tracen,” Cecily spoke, “and that’s why we're going to get Sonia.”
“Well, unfortunately,” said a snickering and smirking voice from behind Donald, “you’ve found me. Oopsie.”
Cecily and Donald’s eyes widened, somehow, someway, Greynolds had a way of making his entrance feel like a second explosion.
“Sir,” Cecily began, “I’m looking for Sonia.”
“Well,” Greynolds said with some testiness, “I’m looking for Tracen and while I cannot help you, you can help me. Where’s the Big Boy brooding?”
“His office, he’s enacting proto—”
“Yes, yes, protocol, procedure,” Greynolds waved his hand dismissively, “you think there’s a plan here I’m not involved in?”
Cecily gritted her teeth. What she thought was that there was a plan that Tracen specifically didn’t want Greynolds involved in. But she didn’t say that. She knew better. Donald stared at the floor. Jimmy G pinched them both on the cheek and ruffled their hair.
“I thought so,” he said with consistent flippancy, “now get to steppin’, we’re under attack if you didn’t notice.”
They both began to disperse, even though it was the way he just came from Donald turned around so sharply and suddenly he thought his knees would buckle and their caps burst. Cecily and he scampered forward, but as they walked away Donald could hear Greynolds bark and order at him…
“Don’t forget my Dom, Don. It’s about to be Christmas and I need a gift for my mom. I mean it, don't spill a drop.”
“Well,” Greynolds said as he entered the office to Tracen placing documents carefully into a briefcase and gripping his pistol with a fervor. “This is properly fucked up huh?”
Tracen didn’t immediately answer, but he did stop packing the suitcase, he did tighten his fingers around his pistol. His index finger twitched and shook toward the trigger. Greynolds only responded as only he could: the boyish smirk, the lying eyes. Jim provided advice and utilized a comfort and confidence without hesitation. He did not offer Tracen direction.
Not unless he was asked.
“I assume you have a plan?”
Tracen’s voice cut through the silence and forced a shrug from Greynolds who approached his desk with a truant schoolboy’s shame, hands in pockets and shoulders up high.
“You sure you don’t want Sonia? She’s very well versed in our protocols and our procedures…”
“Jealous?”
“I told you before, I’m a star,” Greynolds chuckled. “It’s more about billing. I don’t like losing my spot on the marquee.”
Tracen placed the pistol on the desk, and it clacked like a judge’s gavel, his eyes narrowed, his lips tightened.
“Well, this is serious Jim,” Tracen’s voice betrayed their familiarity and that caused Greynolds' smirk to soften even if it didn’t disappear completely. “I’m not asking you for the plan, I’m asking if you have a plan. Not for any random hypothetical situation, for this specific situation.”
The smirk shrank and Greynolds closed his eyes and took off his glasses for a moment.
“We need to leave,” he said this like it was the easiest thing in the world, “and then we need to leave someone behind. Someone big. Someone they’d take as a prize and not give chase. Not serious chase anyway. A pelt for them to hang.”
“And you have someone in mind?”
“Well, before it was Wilson, but recent events have made me inclined to think that Sonia is actually the perfect person for this position.”
“Wow, what a funny coincidence.”
“Well, isn’t that why you keep me around? I’m the one who says, I’m the one who you go-to when you don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Don’t be so paternal,” Tracen chastised and Greynolds shrugged. “And don’t be so self-important. You didn’t do anything here but confirm my own thoughts.”
Their relationship wasn’t paternal, probably only ten to twelve years separated them. Their relationship wasn’t friendly either, but it was built on a trust and understanding. They weren’t quite brothers, but the bond had been built in blood.
“So, you want me to get Sonia?”
Greynolds said it like it was a brunch order, but Tracen didn’t say anything. He simply waved the other man away. Jimmy G turned around, hands still in pockets, shoulders still up high, a whistle on his smirking lips.
Quickly, suddenly, three shots rang out from Tracen’s pistol and Greynolds crumpled to the floor.
“What I want is for you to be dead before our attackers get here,” there was a tiredness to go on with demanding tone in his voice. “What I apparently need to do is get Sonia my damn self because you've gotten complacent enough to allow this to happen."
Tracen closed the suitcase, he stepped over Greynolds' body, walked towards the door.
"Like you said Jim, you're a marquee name," There was a soft click as the door opened. "Now you can finally have your closeup."
Jim Greynolds heard the door close, flipped over onto his back, stared briefly at the ceiling, bled out and died.
A smirk stained on his face behind lifeless eyes.
“We apologize for those technical difficulties yesterday, but do not be alarmed, we’re still here monitoring your work.”
“We’ll start today with John Kieran who was shot by Jezzie Stark who continued her good performance. Unfortunately, she also had her curtain call when Katelyn Graves sniped her from behind.
“After a tense standoff Valentin Shulgin was then shot by Matthew Bell, which was an interesting pursuit of justice by our favorite junior officer.
“Then our current kill leader Katelyn Graves was finally eliminated by Kai Rosado-Prince, which is a service to the rest of you based on Katelyn’s performance.
“Next Norbert Nielson tried to remove his collar and it did not work, he only removed his neck, once again giving you all a remainder of the danger of our collars.
“In a wild stroke of luck Trinity Ashmore caused and got buried by an avalanche by the mountain. So, if you see a snowdrift, you’ve found Trinity.
“Anthony Jones was removed from play next when he encountered Evie McKown who is really starting to make a name for herself.
“Say goodbye to another potential competitor as Letitia May also encountered Matthew Bell and his gun, like Evie, Matthew is really starting to put some notches on his gun as one to look out for.
“Then we had another person try and mess around with their collar when Alexander Hawthorne tried his luck, and it went as you’d expect, an explosion followed by death.
“And finally, Mônica Oliveira met her end when Aracelis Fuentes beat her to death with a baseball bat.”
“Now we move on to the danger zones for the day, and joining our existing exploding areas are the Frozen Lake, The Campground and The Abandoned Trapping Camp. Once again if you go into any of these areas your collar will explode, and it would be such a shame if that happened when you’re so close to the end.
“In our final piece of business, we would like to congratulate Kai Rosado-Prince for their wonderful murder, your prize of a fully dressed Italian sub, salt-vinegar chips and a lemonade, along with a new weapon, can be found at The Campground.
“And with that I must bid you adieu for another day, good luck and remember that we’re getting down to the wire and everything is to play for.”
Weather: The weather is still calm, with no snowfall and a very light breeze, causing some snow to begin to melt. The high has remained around 35 degrees F, 2 degrees C in the morning with a low of 28 F, -2 degree C, in the evening once the sun has gone down. The sun rises at 9:04AM and sets at 3:20 PM. There is a full moon.
Here are the rolls for today...
1. Kaede Tsurumi (decoy73)
2. Matthew Bell (Applesintime) Ellis Wheaton (Laurels), Hero Card used
3. Beatrice Briggs (Pippi)
4. Shawn Bellamy (Fiori)
Finally, congratulations to our BDA Winner ViolentMedic for the death of Molly Olivera! Your quote nomination thread will be up shortly!
Please remember that there are three days for cards and for regular posting to wrap up for threads that are now in danger zones and a further seven days for leaving posts.
Characters slotted to die at the end of the 72-hour card period have an additional NINE days to die before they and their killer become ineligible for the Best Kill and Best Death Awards for this rolls cycle.
Any characters who have not died by the BKA/BDA deadline of the next rolls cycle will be taken over by SOTF_Help in order to complete their deaths.
Time for Cards:
Time for BKA/BDA Eligibility: