Survival Of The Fittest

Tiffany Wakemore... What did she know about Tiffany Wakemore...

More than she cared to remember. Tiffy was a manipulative, idiotic bitch who decided to pick fights in her library and cause an infuriating ruckus and get away with it by releasing floods of crocodile tears. When she wasn't sweet-talking the teachers. Was she really trustworthy?

Nope.

"Tiffany, dear, i'm not going to pretend to believe you, so why don't you and your equally asinine friend skedaddle before i test..." Othello? Romeo? Desdemona? "Before I test... uh..." God she needed a name but she just couldn't pick one. It was like a bevvy of flavourful names assaulting her senses, each one as perfect, yet unsuitable as the last.

"Before I... test dear William's strength." There we go. She could change it later if she needed.

It wasn't like anyone present would be around to care.

"So." She regained her composure. "Hands where I can see them? Wonderful. Now be good and take 200 paces..." She waved vaguely in the opposite direction. "That way."

And just like that, the ordeal was over. She put down the gun, told them to get out of the place. All things considered, it was about as good a get out as he could have hoped for, but something about the way it all went down still made him feel like a fool.

Quince was feeling angry about the whole situation. He'd been put out there, trying to be nice, and where had it gotten him? Staring down the barrel of a gun. Never again. He'd already killed one of his classmates, and now he had a gun. And this fucking bitch was threatening him. How fucking dare she! He should just shoot the bitch right then and there. Bullet right between the eyes. Bang, hit the floor, one less bitch.

Still, there were two things to take into account. One was that Gunslut still had her rifle. That meant she was still a threat, one that Quince couldn't afford to take right now. She was in the better position. As soon as he was within range and that gun was pointing away, he could take her out easily, but not now. The other factor was Tiff. He didn't want her to think him unstable. A threat, a danger. He needed her. He needed someone who could figure out where to go.

With that in mind, he nodded grimly at Gunslut, and shouted to Tiffany. "Let's go. No need to fight here." He kept facing towards the brunette as he backed away slowly in the direction she had indicated, waiting until he was out of her sight before turning, hoping that she wouldn't take her shot while she had it. "Next time, I won't be caught out like that."

((Quincy Jones cont'd in Later, Buddy))

"Tiffany, dear, I'm not going to pretend to believe you, so why don't you and your equally asinine friend skedaddle before i test ... before I test ... uh ..." Great. The girl holding the gun didn't have enough intelligence to string two words together. "... before I ... test dear William's strength."

Tiffany would have laughed it off, if not for the rifle in Rifle Girl's hands.

"So, hands where I can see them? Wonderful. Now be good and take 200 paces ... that way." She waved in some direction. Tiffany almost wanted to take her out, just to put her in her place, but two things stated otherwise: the first was, of course, the rifle. The second? Quincy.

"Let's go. No need to fight here." Quincy backed away from Rifle Girl, keeping his eyes on her. No way could she fight through this. Best to just back away.

Tiffany joined Quincy in leaving the area, her golf club trailing the ground, and didn't even bother looking away until she couldn't see any brown hair in the distance.

I'm going to get that bitch ...

((Tiffany Chanders continued in Later, Buddy))

Turn around, stop looking at me, turn around, stop looking at me.

She was getting nervous with quincy watching her as he backed away. She'd been hoping for them to look the other way as they walked off so she could make a run for it as they went. But no, he just kept looking at her with those disturbing eyes as he left. She couldn't exactly tell them to look the other way now it would have made her seem less calm, less in control.

Look the other way, please?

She couldn't relax until he was all but out of eyesight. What a pain.

Taking her cue swiftly, she dropped neatly off and behind the tree stump. Her bags were already in place. At least this way she didn't have to run. She was pretty sure they wouldn't be following her now.

Just to be sure, she sat on another tree stump and lifted the rifle again, only noticing then that the safety was still off and her eyes widened.

Nota Bene: Remember to fix safety on your oversized rifle before jumping off things.

She flicked the safety safely off, and pulled the scope up to her eye. She could see a hell of a long way with this, actually. She twisted knobs and sorted out the focus, aiming it at some buildings away in front of her.

Some guy was walking through the stumps down there. It looked like he was just... sitting there against the wall. She couldn't quite make his features out through the shifting lens though. Pulling her eye away, she shrugged and circled her shoulders, Trying to relax and hold her grip a bit steadier...

Wait...

Aha! Mia you are an endless font of brilliant ideas.

Warte noch einmal...

If she pulled the clasp holding the scope in place, would it uncalibrate it?... It didn't seem worth the risk. Instead she squirmed about and tried to get into a better position, eventually pulling her knee up to eye-level and using it as a pivot.

Yep, boy at the... Lumbermill... was definitely just sitting there. Crying. His weeping into his arms didn't make getting a glimpse of his facial features any easier.

"Oh well."

She turned her attentions back to the direction the dynamic duo had been going, and after a minute of scanning around she finally found them again. That they definitely weren't following her was a relief... She guessed she could leave them a parting present, but it seemed like a waste of three precious things. Time, effort and Ammunition.

The last thing she swung her attention, and her rifle towards, was the lighthouse and the road ahead.

It.... looked clear? She had the feeling spying through her most lethal of telescopes was less purposeful than she'd thought.

In any case, she felt she'd better get moving.

((Mia Kuiper continued Somewhere Else))

THREAD FINISHED.