Wednesday, June 20, 2018: Undisclosed Location, 7 AM
The meeting in Adi’s office had been a short one, sort of a pre-show before the real opener of the night. As recently as twenty minutes ago, Lourvey had hoped that his involvement in tonight’s affairs would end there, raising a question that needed to be asked to the person best-equipped to answer it.
Something didn’t sit right with him ever since that time he met with Trent the other day. He was acting really sketch- and alright, the guy’s middle name could probably be ‘flaky’ for how he generally acted and carried himself, but even for Trent it was weird, claiming some weird fuckery in the pay system.
So Dennis Lourvey went to the man who could clear the air about it. It was a relief that Adi seemed to understand exactly what he’d been talking about. It was kind of concerning too, as if the accountant wasn’t the least bit surprised to learn that there was something a little off with Trent… and that’s when he dropped some beancounter knowledge. Now, here he was, gone from one office and headed to another.
Dennis hesitated slightly when he extended his wrist to knock. Unlike many of his peers, he didn’t find Tracen uncomfortable to be around. Heck, he got along with him a hell of a lot more than his old boss, so Danya Jr. was a breath of fresh air, really. It wasn’t Tracen he feared, but the delivery of the bad news… that it had to come from his mouth and he had to see the reactions first hand, plus the pressure of wording it properly as to neither downplay nor amp up the severity of the situation.
He could do this, he told himself, right before taking a deep breath and knocking.
“Come in.” Came Tracen’s muffled voice from behind the door. With just another second of trepidation, Lourvey pushed it open. On the other side of the door lied Tracen and Greynolds, one behind the desk and the other looming over his shoulder. Greynolds looked over at Lourvey, one hand deep in a bag of Bugle chips. He shoved a few in his mouth and then waved at him, twiddling his fingers like an elementary schooler. Greynolds then began the process of attempting to adorn his fingertips with those same chips. Dennis shuddered.
Tracen looked up from the files he had been studying and ran his eyes over Lourvey.
“What’s the matter Lourvey? You’re not about to tell me more cameras have been destroyed?”
“Ha!” Lourvey forced a pained chuckle. “Good news! It’s… it’s not that.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt. It had nothing to do with him. Tracen wasn’t going to be mad at him. But he was going to be mad… in general. “Actually, it’s about Tr- Dr. Camden.”
There was a pregnant pause as Tracen seemed to analyze Lourvey more closely than he had previously.
“What about Dr. Camden?”
Trent wouldn’t necessarily say that he prided himself on doing a good job - that was a silly, subjective thing to stake one’s pride on - but he had always trusted himself to do things competently. He was no neat freak, but his belongings were always organized in a way that made sense to him, whether on his desk or packed carefully into a few boxes. It struck him sometimes how easily a human life was packed away.
Nobody had asked - most people couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to Trent right now other than Lourvey when he came scrounging around for painkillers - but if they had, he’d have simply said that he was preparing to move on when the version ended, just like everyone else. He was just getting his preparations done a bit ahead of time. It wouldn’t have been a lie.
He had the occasional itch to check his email. He kept notifications turned off, so the only way to know if he’d gotten anything new was to check. He resisted, focusing instead on slowly and methodically folding clothes. He didn’t have too many sentimental items, or any at all, really. Function over form was Trent’s motto.
His mottos changed like the wind, much like his interests. Tying himself down to a profession where everyone expected you to settle in, establish yourself, make a name- he’d realized quickly that it was a mistake. So much for pursuing one’s passions. His current position had been a breath of fresh air, for a little while. But the Arthro Taskforce, in many ways as ingrained as the oldest hospitals, was just yet another career you were expected to enter and never leave.
In his own estimation, Trent had never yet set foot into a place that had no exit. If there was no obvious out, he would always make one.
The Titanic was a tired metaphor, but it was tried and true. Nothing was unsinkable. To Trent, the sinking of any organization was inevitable.
Why wait for the iceberg to come?
Why not be proactive?
There was a knock at his door.
“Come in,” Trent called without looking up.
One slip. One little bit of carelessness. One error, and it all came back to Dr. Trent Camden.
Tracen walked in with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Trent, I don’t feel like we’ve talked in a while. How have things been recently?”
Trent paused and then slowly straightened up and turned to face Tracen. “I’m quite well. What brings you by for a chat so suddenly? I hope Lourvey’s migraines haven’t been catching.”
He rarely spoke to Danya face to face. That was another thing that Trent was usually happy to pass off to Dr. Kelley, and Kelley at least seemed to have a cordial relationship with the man. Trent preferred to keep to himself for the most part, and his estimation was that Tracen did the same.
“No issues there, I’m feeling great.” Danya said as he leaned back to rest on the wall. “Just wanted to check in, see how our stocks are doing, check how morale is as the end of a version is coming up.” He shrugged. “You know, the basic stuff.”
Trent idly scratched at the blonde scruff on his cheek. “That’s very kind of you. I feel that morale is high, at least in my personal case.” He hadn’t known Tracen to take much interest in “morale” before. Perhaps cabin fever did go all the way to the top, at times.
“Good, that’s good.” Tracen nodded his head a little, seeming to be considering something. “Out of curiosity Trent, you wouldn’t know about any... irregularities in the pharmacy numbers would you?”
The casual rhythm of Trent’s movements was interrupted for a second, barely noticeable. “I don’t believe so. There hasn’t been anything of note besides Lourvey setting himself on the path of kidney damage if he carries on the way he has been.”
He leaned against the wall in a mirror of Tracen’s position. “Really, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with minutiae like that, Mr. Danya. Let us pencil-pushers worry about accounts.”
Tracen chuckled, shaking his head slightly, appearing to mutter Mr. Danya to himself. But when he spoke there was no trace of humor. “I’m not my father, I like to keep a close eye on all aspects of our operation here.” Tracen paused and seemed to scan the room before his gaze settled back onto Trent. “So I’m asking you, why are there irregularities in your numbers?”
Trent mulled over his answer for a moment. “There should be no irregularities. If there’s been an error somewhere, I don’t believe that it’s mine. I pride myself on being very careful.”
For a split second, his eyes flicked to the door over Tracen’s shoulder. “Have you spoken with Mr. Lawal about it? The hard number crunching is more his domain.”
Tracen took a long look at Trent’s face as a moment of silence passed between them. “Who have you been talking to?”
“Talking to? Lourvey, Kelley, yourself. I don’t socialize much while we’re on the job.”
“To be honest with you, I think Lourvey is terrible company.”
Trent chuckled, though there was a slight edge to it. “I think that’s a bit unfair, but to each his own.”
Tracen’s hands had remained in his pockets for the entire exchange, and Trent now noticed the tension in his shoulders even as Tracen tried to remain casual against the wall. He glanced at Tracen’s hidden hands.
Ah.
He read Tracen’s expression once more and summarily decided to exit the conversation before it could well and truly go south. There was no point in stalling if it was only delaying the inevitable.
“If you’ll excuse me-” Trent began before he made a break for the door.
He didn’t get very far.
Wednesday, June 20, 2018: Undisclosed Location, 9 AM
Tracen didn't waste any time taking his seat. He placed a still lightly steaming cup of coffee off the one side of his desk and quickly skimmed through his notes with narrowed eyes. Once he was satisfied everything was in order and to his liking he cleared his throat and clicked on the speakers.
"Good morning all of you that remain. You have once again proven yourselves to be the top of the class in the art of surviving or maybe you're just lucky, either way you're still alive and that's the important part. After all, there are only 30 of you left."
He gave them only a second to absorb that before launching right into things.
"Today started with a big burst of activity so stick with me here. Helena Fury was the first to go when she was shot by Lori Martin.
"Immediately after that Valerija Bogdanovic shot her own collar, which is not the direction you want to shoot in.
"Lori Martin didn't waste any time following her first kill and went and shot Paloma Salt as well. We were surprised it hadn't happened sooner."
Tracen dramatically inhaled as he came to the end of the first batch.
"Okay that was a lot wasn't it? Anyway, now that we've got that out of the way we can settle in for a more relaxing time... oh wait no, there was another melee. So Violet Schmidt was killed first when Teresa Rojas drowned her, but then Teresa herself was shot by Blaise d'Aramitz. You kids really went for it today, I'm impressed.
"This time we can settle in for the relaxing stuff for real, as Juliette Sargent died in a nice simple case of collar explosion due to remaining in a danger zone. A nice and simple one for you all to appreciate.
"Following that-"
Tracen stopped and gave an exaggerated sigh as he read the next pair of names.
"Turns out our reprieve is brief, as Shauna Cooke and Angie Cortez were both shot by our favorite fuck-up Justin Greene. He's a hard worker, that boy.
"Following that we gave a more quiet and subdued death as Princess McQuillan finally bled out from wounds inflicted on her by Blaise d'Aramitz, who manages to get the rare cross-island double kill.
"If you like your daily dose of betrayal and tragedy, Marceline Carlson has you covered as she cut the throat of her friend Amelia Fischer. I don't know which one of them was more surprised."
Tracen paused to take a sip of the coffee he'd left abandoned on his desk before he continued.
"Moving onto our final two kills of the day. First, I must sadly report that our newest entry to the killing team Lori Martin was gunned down by Ace Ortega. But don't worry guys, we're going to get straight on the horn to Tracee Bluebell to get a tribute single prepared."
"And finally, there was an explosive debate between Diego Larrosa and Henry Sparks that Diego came out on the winning end of.
"Now that we have reached the end of our kill updates it is time to announce your danger zone for the day. Since you've all had plently of time to enjoy the creature comforts on offer there The Village is now off-limits. You know the deal by now, if you go there you will go boom. If you have forgotten what the other danger zones are... well, tough luck. Tread carefully, and be ready to run.
"Now to finally finish off today, we must congratulate Marceline Carlson. Your meal of a buffalo chicken pizza and a two-liter of Sprite can be found in the Infirmary, along with something else you can use to continue your good work.
"And that's all for today. Congratulations on getting this far but don't mess it up now; I'm sure your parents would be very disappointed if you did."
DAY ELEVEN: WEDNESDAY, JUNE 20, 2018
Weather: The temperature on the island has stayed steady but the wind has picked up again and is starting to become fierce on the coasts. There are also some small rainy patches as the day goes on. The temperature has highs of around 86 degrees F, 30 degrees C. The moon is now in the first quarter. The eleventh announcement will come at 9 AM on June 21.
As always you can find those for whom the bell tolls below.
Summary:
1. Nick Ogilvie (General Goose)
2. Garren Mortimer (Pippi)
3. Christina "Renz" Rennes (decoy73) Manuel Figueroa (Decoy73, Swap Card Used)
4. Ace "Beats" Ortega (Buko) Sakurako A. Jackson (Sunnybunny, Hero Card Used)
Please remember the etiquette surrounding rolls, kill requests, etc. No gloating in the chat about not being rolled, no repeated pleas for heroes outside of the announcement thread, and no unsolicited kill offers to those who have been rolled. This includes making general offers to all that your character is open to killing. Be courteous to your fellow handlers.
There are three days (72 hours) for cards and Danger Zone posts, and a further seven days for deaths and Danger Zone exits. The remaining time can be seen here.
Congratulations to MurderWeasel on winning BDA for the death of Juliette Sargent! We'll have a quote nomination thread up shortly.
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