((Matthew Bell continued from We're Going on a Bear Hunt))
After leaving the sleeping quarters with their early Christmas present from Shu (which was a dumb way of looking at things, but c'mon, you had to have some humor and fun in this damned place or you'd go insane and do a Shu) Matthew and Shawn retreated. He'd figured that Katelyn was probably moving to the town area, so for the third or fourth time in as many days, the duo elected to walk across the fucking island again. Matthew was getting tired of looking at all the trees and cracked concrete of the road to town, and it was getting late so they decided to find somewhere to sleep for the night. What they'd found was some sorta camp that looked like it'd seen its fair share of violence; bullet in the window, the furniture all smashed up and tossed around the room and some dried blood.
But hey, it would keep them out of the cold. Sometimes, you had to take what you could get.
Honestly, Matthew really missed his bed. And his room. And Gatta, who'd normally be sleeping on him. Sometimes she'd sorta scoot over to sit on his shoulder and snuggle up to him, and sometimes she'd wake him up by deciding to sit on his face for god knows what reason. It was... homesickness, he guessed. Combine that with just how achey he was from all the goddamn walking and running and the few scant nightmares this place gave him and once the sun started to rise, so did Matthew. Sitting outside on the porch of the shitty cabin, Matthew cracked open a bottle of water, ate a bit of dry gluten-free bread, washed it down with the water and sighed.
"Fuck, I want a McDonald's."
Alpha Mike Foxtrot
Open once Fiori gets in! Morning of Day 10
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Applesintime
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- Location: In a magical place
Shawn would've killed for a Chick-fil-A, himself.
((Shawn Bellamy continued from We're Going on a Bear Hunt))
It was refreshing to sleep under a roof again, even if their accomodation was somewhat lacking. A foul stench lingered in the air, likely from all the bodies piled up outside, and the place looked as though it got struck by a hurricane. Typical really, one of the few isolated shelters on the island, and someone saw fit to wreck the joint and leave it exposed to the elements.
Why? This building would've been a godsend if it weren't for all the broken windows and wrecked furniture. Why would anyone go out of their way to trash a place like this, make it harder for others to use it as shelter further down the line?
...on second thoughts, damn. Wish he'd thought of that. Ah well.
Still, it was better than nothing, the two making it through the night in one piece. The announcement had been and gone, the dead slowly outnumbering the living. Matt got all the blame for Karin, thank god for that, and the details on Shu's fate were curiously vague. A number of his competitors also succumbed to the elements, a fact their host didn't seem all that happy about. Shawn couldn't help but raise his brow at Danny's constant whining about it, especially when he then went on to turn a bunch of indoor locations into dangerzones. Like, what did he expect to happen when he dumped a hundred teenagers on some frozen island in the middle of the arctic, in the dead of winter no less?
Come to think of it... What exactly were Danny and his goons getting out of all this, anyway? Shawn often found himself wondering how exactly they were able to fund this game, what made all the effort they went through to set it up worth the payoff. Was there some secret cabal of billionaire perverts furiously yanking off to all this, willing to pay top dollar to see a bunch of dumbass teens murder each other once every four or five years? Admittedly he'd read little about SOTF, so maybe the answer was already out there on wikipedia or something. He didn't get off on reading about snuff films, so he was in the dark on that one.
Who knows. Maybe he'd get a chance to ask Danny himself at the end of all this.
For now though, he left the relative comfort of the cabin to join Matt outside, still brushing his teeth after breakfast. "Mornin'" he says, taking a quick glug of water to gargle and wash his mouth, before leaning over the porch railing to spit it back out. After yesterday's windfall supplies were basically a non-issue, so he didn't mind using a bit of water on some well-needed oral hygiene.
"How're you holding up?"
((Shawn Bellamy continued from We're Going on a Bear Hunt))
It was refreshing to sleep under a roof again, even if their accomodation was somewhat lacking. A foul stench lingered in the air, likely from all the bodies piled up outside, and the place looked as though it got struck by a hurricane. Typical really, one of the few isolated shelters on the island, and someone saw fit to wreck the joint and leave it exposed to the elements.
Why? This building would've been a godsend if it weren't for all the broken windows and wrecked furniture. Why would anyone go out of their way to trash a place like this, make it harder for others to use it as shelter further down the line?
...on second thoughts, damn. Wish he'd thought of that. Ah well.
Still, it was better than nothing, the two making it through the night in one piece. The announcement had been and gone, the dead slowly outnumbering the living. Matt got all the blame for Karin, thank god for that, and the details on Shu's fate were curiously vague. A number of his competitors also succumbed to the elements, a fact their host didn't seem all that happy about. Shawn couldn't help but raise his brow at Danny's constant whining about it, especially when he then went on to turn a bunch of indoor locations into dangerzones. Like, what did he expect to happen when he dumped a hundred teenagers on some frozen island in the middle of the arctic, in the dead of winter no less?
Come to think of it... What exactly were Danny and his goons getting out of all this, anyway? Shawn often found himself wondering how exactly they were able to fund this game, what made all the effort they went through to set it up worth the payoff. Was there some secret cabal of billionaire perverts furiously yanking off to all this, willing to pay top dollar to see a bunch of dumbass teens murder each other once every four or five years? Admittedly he'd read little about SOTF, so maybe the answer was already out there on wikipedia or something. He didn't get off on reading about snuff films, so he was in the dark on that one.
Who knows. Maybe he'd get a chance to ask Danny himself at the end of all this.
For now though, he left the relative comfort of the cabin to join Matt outside, still brushing his teeth after breakfast. "Mornin'" he says, taking a quick glug of water to gargle and wash his mouth, before leaning over the porch railing to spit it back out. After yesterday's windfall supplies were basically a non-issue, so he didn't mind using a bit of water on some well-needed oral hygiene.
"How're you holding up?"
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ViolentMedic
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- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Nearby, Fitz was craving mozzarella sticks.
((Russell ‘Fitz’ Fitzroy continued from Late To Being Doomed To Repeat It.))
Fitz had taken too long to get to the research station. By the time he’d gone from the town to the research station, it had been dark. No glimpse of Kitty Graves. No sign of anything sharp. Back the way he came, grumbling under his breath about a waste of a day.
He’d found a hole somewhere to curl up in, staying warm with the emergency blanket, and kept moving back towards town once it was less pitch black. When the announcements had rung out, he’d filled the list out as he was walking.
There hadn’t been too much to write down. One new killer. Trinity had seemingly emerged from the closet, and won mozzarella sticks in the process. Victor, he crossed off. Karin, he crossed off. Some others were crossed off, the list of Day 1 killers finally starting to look a little thinner.
A trapping camp was ahead. The sort of place that, under normal circumstances, might have a sharp item or two present.
The trees around him had prevented him from getting a decent look at the cabin, so he didn’t realise people were on the porch until his brightly-coloured self had stumbled out from the trees, making a rustling noise as he got his feet caught in some branches.
“Get off, you stupid--”
He raised a hand and shielded his eyes, looking around and spotting the figures a little too late to back off into the trees, one of whom was a three-time killer.
“Icomeinpeace--”
((Russell ‘Fitz’ Fitzroy continued from Late To Being Doomed To Repeat It.))
Fitz had taken too long to get to the research station. By the time he’d gone from the town to the research station, it had been dark. No glimpse of Kitty Graves. No sign of anything sharp. Back the way he came, grumbling under his breath about a waste of a day.
He’d found a hole somewhere to curl up in, staying warm with the emergency blanket, and kept moving back towards town once it was less pitch black. When the announcements had rung out, he’d filled the list out as he was walking.
There hadn’t been too much to write down. One new killer. Trinity had seemingly emerged from the closet, and won mozzarella sticks in the process. Victor, he crossed off. Karin, he crossed off. Some others were crossed off, the list of Day 1 killers finally starting to look a little thinner.
A trapping camp was ahead. The sort of place that, under normal circumstances, might have a sharp item or two present.
The trees around him had prevented him from getting a decent look at the cabin, so he didn’t realise people were on the porch until his brightly-coloured self had stumbled out from the trees, making a rustling noise as he got his feet caught in some branches.
“Get off, you stupid--”
He raised a hand and shielded his eyes, looking around and spotting the figures a little too late to back off into the trees, one of whom was a three-time killer.
“Icomeinpeace--”
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Applesintime
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- Location: In a magical place
The annoucement came as Matthew sat outside, watching the sun slowly rising. Anywhere else and it'd have been beautiful, something to appreciate and marvel at. But here, all the sun did was illuminate the wars this place had seen. Wolves hanging up on strings, frozen in the cold of the island. More patches of dark brown on the porch, a casing half-buried in the snow and only revealed by one end pointing out, glinting in the sunlight. It was something to chew upon while he heard the usual. Katelyn and Salem killed again. Same with Evie, who was fast becoming a regular on the announcements. More people who hadn't done anything wrong, gunned down by those who were eager and willing. Dani was gone, the life of the JEM party scene. There'd be no more parties lighting up that old house now, only the funeral preparations. Half the people on the announcement had died of exposure or whatever, which... really? Like, Matthew wasn't gonna give Danya a single fucking thing but he had to admit that, yeah. How did people keep freezing to death? Or drowning? Sepsis, he could kinda get but drowning? What was that, third time?
It just served to reignite something Matthew'd been wondering about. Three times his name had been up there. Jack, Ren, and now Karin. Three players (debatable in the case of Ren, especially since Katelyn and Kai had been right fucking there! He could have finished it in one magazine!) and yet the number just kept growing. It was like a fucking hydra. Or like fighting the tide with a bucket, and no matter how many heads he cut off or how much he filled that bucket, it was nothing. A new head grew back, the waters kept coming. The tide was threatening to sweep him under, the hydra ready to swallow him whole, like they had so many people on this island. And he could keep trying to fight - or he could go all in and see how far he got.
How many people on this island could he say he was protecting anymore, anyway?
"Oh, uh - OK enough, I guess. Just couldn't sleep. You?" Shawn startled him a little, Matthew too caught up in his own thoughts. Maybe he was why Matthew was hesitant to cross that gap between hunting players (poorly) and starting to play for keeps. Because inevitably Shawn'd have to die if he got serious about this, and he was basically the only living friend Matthew had on this island who wasn't a murderer. Sure, he had some... questions about those spike traps that seemed to be popping up, but he didn't know if he could do it unless it was his life or Shawn's.
But wasn't it starting to get to that point?
"I think today we, uh-" Something - no, someone - broke through the trees surrounding the camp. A colorful mess; Fitz, maybe? And Fitz had killed two people, right at the start of this. Tully and the girl with the granny name, Mildred.
Matthew went for the gun tucked into his waistband.
It just served to reignite something Matthew'd been wondering about. Three times his name had been up there. Jack, Ren, and now Karin. Three players (debatable in the case of Ren, especially since Katelyn and Kai had been right fucking there! He could have finished it in one magazine!) and yet the number just kept growing. It was like a fucking hydra. Or like fighting the tide with a bucket, and no matter how many heads he cut off or how much he filled that bucket, it was nothing. A new head grew back, the waters kept coming. The tide was threatening to sweep him under, the hydra ready to swallow him whole, like they had so many people on this island. And he could keep trying to fight - or he could go all in and see how far he got.
How many people on this island could he say he was protecting anymore, anyway?
"Oh, uh - OK enough, I guess. Just couldn't sleep. You?" Shawn startled him a little, Matthew too caught up in his own thoughts. Maybe he was why Matthew was hesitant to cross that gap between hunting players (poorly) and starting to play for keeps. Because inevitably Shawn'd have to die if he got serious about this, and he was basically the only living friend Matthew had on this island who wasn't a murderer. Sure, he had some... questions about those spike traps that seemed to be popping up, but he didn't know if he could do it unless it was his life or Shawn's.
But wasn't it starting to get to that point?
"I think today we, uh-" Something - no, someone - broke through the trees surrounding the camp. A colorful mess; Fitz, maybe? And Fitz had killed two people, right at the start of this. Tully and the girl with the granny name, Mildred.
Matthew went for the gun tucked into his waistband.
"Uh, yeah... Same here" Shawn replied, leaning against the balustrade as his eyes scanned the treeline.
In reality he'd slept pretty damn well, all things considered. Probably the best sleep he'd had all week, finally able to rest easy knowing that he was in a good position to see this game through to the end. At the beginning, he had next to nothing. No allies, a pathetic excuse of a weapon, and an unlucky streak that nearly resulted in a premature end to his run.
Now however? Now he had everything he ever needed: A decent gun, a powerful ally, enough food and water to last another week if need be. They were both in good condition, with plenty of gas left in the tank to last them through this thing. Best of all, he'd made it this far without drawing too much undue intention, riding off the coattails of his competitor's successes. With his new weapon, and Matt at his side, the two of them had a damn good shot at winning this game. They were a unit to be reckoned with, rivalled only by their most bloodthirsty competitors.
So yes, he slept well. Because right now, Shawn felt goddamn unstoppable.
But, he was careful to hide his high spirits, feigning a similarly melancholic mood as he watched the wind rush through the...
Wait, hang on, who the fuck was that?
"WOoaah, haaay-haaay!" he gasps, taking several steps back away from the balustrade with his hands raised, until his back bumped up against the doorway. On the other side of which was his shotgun, laying up against the doorframe, easily within grabbing distance should the need arise.
"Let's not do anything silly, now..." he says, casually tucking his toothbush into a breast pocket.
In reality he'd slept pretty damn well, all things considered. Probably the best sleep he'd had all week, finally able to rest easy knowing that he was in a good position to see this game through to the end. At the beginning, he had next to nothing. No allies, a pathetic excuse of a weapon, and an unlucky streak that nearly resulted in a premature end to his run.
Now however? Now he had everything he ever needed: A decent gun, a powerful ally, enough food and water to last another week if need be. They were both in good condition, with plenty of gas left in the tank to last them through this thing. Best of all, he'd made it this far without drawing too much undue intention, riding off the coattails of his competitor's successes. With his new weapon, and Matt at his side, the two of them had a damn good shot at winning this game. They were a unit to be reckoned with, rivalled only by their most bloodthirsty competitors.
So yes, he slept well. Because right now, Shawn felt goddamn unstoppable.
But, he was careful to hide his high spirits, feigning a similarly melancholic mood as he watched the wind rush through the...
Wait, hang on, who the fuck was that?
"WOoaah, haaay-haaay!" he gasps, taking several steps back away from the balustrade with his hands raised, until his back bumped up against the doorway. On the other side of which was his shotgun, laying up against the doorframe, easily within grabbing distance should the need arise.
"Let's not do anything silly, now..." he says, casually tucking his toothbush into a breast pocket.
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 1467
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
“HeyheyheyheyHEY!”
When Matthew went for his gun, Fitz raised his own. He kept close to the treeline, though he’d fumbled enough walking in that it was obviously not an easy way to step out again. He took a step towards the cluster of logs that served as seats.
“I'm not clowning!" he shouted at the two, eyes briefly darting to Shawn. "I said I come in fucking peace!”
His eyes flickered briefly between the two before he decided to keep the gun trained on Matthew. His rifle was, as usual, unloaded. At this distance, it might be hard to tell. Fitz didn’t let go of it to fumble for the clip in his pocket. Not yet. That would make it all the more obvious.
“If you’re cool, I’m cool! Truce! Parley!”
When Matthew went for his gun, Fitz raised his own. He kept close to the treeline, though he’d fumbled enough walking in that it was obviously not an easy way to step out again. He took a step towards the cluster of logs that served as seats.
“I'm not clowning!" he shouted at the two, eyes briefly darting to Shawn. "I said I come in fucking peace!”
His eyes flickered briefly between the two before he decided to keep the gun trained on Matthew. His rifle was, as usual, unloaded. At this distance, it might be hard to tell. Fitz didn’t let go of it to fumble for the clip in his pocket. Not yet. That would make it all the more obvious.
“If you’re cool, I’m cool! Truce! Parley!”
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Applesintime
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"Drop your gun and then we can talk!" It looked like a sniper rifle or something, Matthew thought. Not as good up close as it would be half a klick away — assuming that Fitz could actually account for all the aim and wind and shit he'd have to do. Even still, it would be a lot more powerful than the pistol he held or the shotgun Shawn had somewhere. So, play this carefully. The gun still aimed at Fitz, Matthew flicked the safety off.
"You murdered two fucking people, I don't give a shit about what you say you come in!" Tully and Mildred. Very early on, but they were still murders all the same. The guy he held at gunpoint didn't look like he was a Katelyn-style rampaging murderer, but Matthew could only really excuse one, and that was if you had a good reason. That's why he'd let Molly go. Two was too many. Maybe Fitz could try and conjure some asshole reasoning out of his mouth to explain why two people were dead at his hands, but he wasn't sure how much he'd believe it.
Slowly standing up, Matthew glanced around quickly, ascertaining where he could take cover if needed... but that rifle would probably punch through rotting wood pretty easily. Right. He either needed to end this quickly or de-escalate.
"I'm not gonna shoot you. Just drop the fucking rifle."
"You murdered two fucking people, I don't give a shit about what you say you come in!" Tully and Mildred. Very early on, but they were still murders all the same. The guy he held at gunpoint didn't look like he was a Katelyn-style rampaging murderer, but Matthew could only really excuse one, and that was if you had a good reason. That's why he'd let Molly go. Two was too many. Maybe Fitz could try and conjure some asshole reasoning out of his mouth to explain why two people were dead at his hands, but he wasn't sure how much he'd believe it.
Slowly standing up, Matthew glanced around quickly, ascertaining where he could take cover if needed... but that rifle would probably punch through rotting wood pretty easily. Right. He either needed to end this quickly or de-escalate.
"I'm not gonna shoot you. Just drop the fucking rifle."
Shawn's eyes flitted between Matt and Fitz, watching as their little stand-off played out. He could practically hear the wild west guitar solo playing in the background.
Fitz was mostly an unknown to Shawn. Wasn't he one of those SOTF fanclub weirdos, like Alex? Snagged a couple kills early on before laying low, which suggested one of two things: Either circumstances aligned during the early game where he was forced to kill, or he got lucky early on but was otherwise pretty incompetent.
Either way, the desirable outcome of this predicament was obvious: One less competitor, and a nice new addition to their growing arsenal.
"Yeah, Fritz, you heard the guy..." Shawn interjected, his arm slowly slithering its way behind him, fingers curling tightly around the barrel of his shotgun.
"If you ain't here for a fight, then how's about a show of good faith?"
Fitz was mostly an unknown to Shawn. Wasn't he one of those SOTF fanclub weirdos, like Alex? Snagged a couple kills early on before laying low, which suggested one of two things: Either circumstances aligned during the early game where he was forced to kill, or he got lucky early on but was otherwise pretty incompetent.
Either way, the desirable outcome of this predicament was obvious: One less competitor, and a nice new addition to their growing arsenal.
"Yeah, Fritz, you heard the guy..." Shawn interjected, his arm slowly slithering its way behind him, fingers curling tightly around the barrel of his shotgun.
"If you ain't here for a fight, then how's about a show of good faith?"
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 1467
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“Uh, if we’re counting murders… pot calling the kettle black much? And the blood’s still wet on your shoes, Matthew.” His head tilted slightly towards Shawn. “And you might not have anything, but you must have witnessed it if you two are snuggling in the cabin the day after. Plus… shotgun. So, no. I’m not leaning into this show of good faith thing unless we’re all on the same level.”
Fitz took another slow step towards the logs, eyes briefly shifting about for the clearest exit. Whatever trees he could easily slip by and run.
“So… how about… count of three, I point my gun at the ground and you do the same. Don’t have to unload or drop them. Just keep them down. If that's not good, I'll just back away. Was only looking for an axe and a cat anyway. Or somethin'.”
Another slow step. Sweat was running down the back of his neck despite the cold.
“I know I’ll probably lose a gunfight. That’s just math.” His tone wasn’t quite casual enough to hide how tense he was. “But if you shoot, then I will shoot. And I promise that one of you will be haunting that little cabin with me.”
Fitz took another slow step towards the logs, eyes briefly shifting about for the clearest exit. Whatever trees he could easily slip by and run.
“So… how about… count of three, I point my gun at the ground and you do the same. Don’t have to unload or drop them. Just keep them down. If that's not good, I'll just back away. Was only looking for an axe and a cat anyway. Or somethin'.”
Another slow step. Sweat was running down the back of his neck despite the cold.
“I know I’ll probably lose a gunfight. That’s just math.” His tone wasn’t quite casual enough to hide how tense he was. “But if you shoot, then I will shoot. And I promise that one of you will be haunting that little cabin with me.”
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Applesintime
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"Everyone I killed deserved it, and well, Karin was either going to die of exposure and a badly broken leg or something quick. How's Mildred and Tully? How far did you shoot them from?" Matthew didn't have patience for this. If he could have just gunned down Fitz easily, just like that, he'd have taken the opportunity. If he had something heavier than a shotgun that wouldn't hit him out that far or a pistol that'd take a few more shots to stop him firing back, maybe he'd have just raised the gun and put a few into him. (He still really wished they had some ammo for that assault rifle that was now unachievable. Goddamn it, Ammo-Stealing Fairy or whoever the fuck.)
OK. If he needed to, really needed to, he could probably vault over the side of the porch and take cover behind the house, or try and disappear into the trees to work his way around. Moving target was hard to hit, especially with the rifle. Depending on if it was semi or bolt — he didn't see a bolt, but things could be deceiving — it'd take Fitz a second to fire a second shot, and that could be the key to everything.
"Alright. I'll put my gun down once you do. Count of three. What the fuck do you even need an axe for, anyway?" Yeah, Matthew had an axe, but that was for emergencies, like not having a gun. What did their sniper buddy need it for? And a... cat? What did that mean? Katelyn?
He could see Shawn inching towards the shotgun. The thought was appreciated, but he didn't think it would do much.
OK. If he needed to, really needed to, he could probably vault over the side of the porch and take cover behind the house, or try and disappear into the trees to work his way around. Moving target was hard to hit, especially with the rifle. Depending on if it was semi or bolt — he didn't see a bolt, but things could be deceiving — it'd take Fitz a second to fire a second shot, and that could be the key to everything.
"Alright. I'll put my gun down once you do. Count of three. What the fuck do you even need an axe for, anyway?" Yeah, Matthew had an axe, but that was for emergencies, like not having a gun. What did their sniper buddy need it for? And a... cat? What did that mean? Katelyn?
He could see Shawn inching towards the shotgun. The thought was appreciated, but he didn't think it would do much.
Shawn blinked. He then slowly let go of the shotgun barrel, raising his hand into the air to do a little wave, trying to play it off with a nervous yet cheeky grin.
On the inside, he was seething. Increasingly anxious, sure, but frustrated to see Matt giving this guy the chance to weasel his way out of this. Granted Shawn wasn't interested in getting shot either, so for now he did little to intervene, not wishing to escalate things whilst he was still out in the open.
He did however raise his brow at Fitz' unusual request.
"Well, dunno about cats, but we've got plenty dead wolves out back..." he stated, leaning against the doorframe. "Like, that's not even a joke or anything. There's fuckin' loads of 'em."
Shawn wondered what was up with that. They never came across signs of there being wolves elsewhere on the island, so the only logical conclusion was that the terrorists killed them all beforehand.
He had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, having a bunch of wolves on the island would've really sped things along, potentially saving him and Matt even more trouble.
On the other hand, thank fuck he didn't have to worry about bumping into a ravenous pack of wolves.
On the inside, he was seething. Increasingly anxious, sure, but frustrated to see Matt giving this guy the chance to weasel his way out of this. Granted Shawn wasn't interested in getting shot either, so for now he did little to intervene, not wishing to escalate things whilst he was still out in the open.
He did however raise his brow at Fitz' unusual request.
"Well, dunno about cats, but we've got plenty dead wolves out back..." he stated, leaning against the doorframe. "Like, that's not even a joke or anything. There's fuckin' loads of 'em."
Shawn wondered what was up with that. They never came across signs of there being wolves elsewhere on the island, so the only logical conclusion was that the terrorists killed them all beforehand.
He had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, having a bunch of wolves on the island would've really sped things along, potentially saving him and Matt even more trouble.
On the other hand, thank fuck he didn't have to worry about bumping into a ravenous pack of wolves.
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 1467
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“Man, that’s cold,” Fitz muttered, before he called out, “Wasn’t from far away. Heck, Mildred got the jump on me. Tully was an accident and Mildred came for revenge. Neither of them deserved it. I’m not denying that it sucked. Just saying that I’m not interested in killing.”
To the axe question, Fitz said – after a pause slightly too long - “I need it for chopping.”
As Fitz talked, his eyes continued to occasionally shift away. There was a decent-sized log not too far away. Not the biggest cover, but sturdy. Then he glanced back to Shawn.
“Dead wolves? Aw… that’s not cool, man, that’s gonna fuck up the ecosystem. How decomposed? Were their teeth all saw-like? Nevermind doesn't matter. Not real cat, Kitty cat. Alright. Alrightalright guns down on three.”
Rambling speeding up. Eyes briefly back to the log, then back to the two armed boys by the cabin.
“Okay. One, two, three.”
Fitz lowered the gun. Legs tensing as he readied himself for the response.
To the axe question, Fitz said – after a pause slightly too long - “I need it for chopping.”
As Fitz talked, his eyes continued to occasionally shift away. There was a decent-sized log not too far away. Not the biggest cover, but sturdy. Then he glanced back to Shawn.
“Dead wolves? Aw… that’s not cool, man, that’s gonna fuck up the ecosystem. How decomposed? Were their teeth all saw-like? Nevermind doesn't matter. Not real cat, Kitty cat. Alright. Alrightalright guns down on three.”
Rambling speeding up. Eyes briefly back to the log, then back to the two armed boys by the cabin.
“Okay. One, two, three.”
Fitz lowered the gun. Legs tensing as he readied himself for the response.
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Applesintime
- Posts: 511
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- Location: In a magical place
Shawn dropped the shotgun after Fitz called him out on it, Matthew responding with a brief scowl of frustration. Sure, it wasn't exactly going to do much from this range, but shit, maybe it'd take Fitz's eye out or something if they got lucky. At worst, it'd just... distract him, and right now they probably needed a distraction. Otherwise, like Fitz said, he'd end up taking one of them with him on the merry road to Hell. Matthew didn't fancy a 50/50 flip to see if it was him or Shawn who got the bullet. Neither option was appealing.
His hand, wrapped around the gun, tensed up. Could he land a headshot from this range? Heart shot — probably not, that was a smaller target than the head, but if he fired at that general area he'd probably hit something. Artery, vein, whatever.
'Not a real cat. A Kitty cat.' So Fitz was looking for Katelyn too. Why? She was just gonna gun him down first chance she got, it's not like she was gonna be good conversation. Unless Fitz was looking to put a bullet in her too, which made things mighty interesting. That rifle would be a lot more of a safer option than going up close with her grenade launcher, guns and whatever the fuck else she had. Kitty sure had fangs.
One.
Matthew glanced back over at the side of the porch. How long would it take for him to get over it after firing?
Two.
Come to think of it, would the rifle just penetrate through the back of the house as well? This place didn't look like it was in good condition.
Three.
Oh, fuck it.
Ignoring his instincts, Matthew lowered the gun, exhaling with gritted teeth as he poised himself to leap in one direction or the other when Fitz brought the rifle back up.
His hand, wrapped around the gun, tensed up. Could he land a headshot from this range? Heart shot — probably not, that was a smaller target than the head, but if he fired at that general area he'd probably hit something. Artery, vein, whatever.
'Not a real cat. A Kitty cat.' So Fitz was looking for Katelyn too. Why? She was just gonna gun him down first chance she got, it's not like she was gonna be good conversation. Unless Fitz was looking to put a bullet in her too, which made things mighty interesting. That rifle would be a lot more of a safer option than going up close with her grenade launcher, guns and whatever the fuck else she had. Kitty sure had fangs.
One.
Matthew glanced back over at the side of the porch. How long would it take for him to get over it after firing?
Two.
Come to think of it, would the rifle just penetrate through the back of the house as well? This place didn't look like it was in good condition.
Three.
Oh, fuck it.
Ignoring his instincts, Matthew lowered the gun, exhaling with gritted teeth as he poised himself to leap in one direction or the other when Fitz brought the rifle back up.
"...chopping. Riiiiiight..."
Ah yes, truthful but evasive answers, Shawn's favourite. Made him all the more curious as to what Fitzy was up to, acting all coy about it like that. Perhaps there was something out there that he wanted to disassemble... Or someone. Naaah, more likely the former, he couldn't think of any rational reasons for the latter.
There were the mines of course, blocked off by a series of wooden barricades to prevent anyone from exploring them. Shawn was rather curious himself as to what was hidden away down there, what secrets could be found within those dark tunnels, so maybe Fitz wanted to hack his way inside too? Except... No, the mines were now a dangerzone weren't they? So that couldn't be it...
Damn, now that just made him want to find out what was down there even more.
For now though, Shawn remained silent as Matt and Fitz stared each other down, his hands by his sides as he gulped nervously. He felt confident that he could grab the shottie in a pinch if need be, but it'd be impossible to do so without provoking Fitz. At this point all he could do was wait, mentally ready himself to scramble for cover and pray that Matt was the priority target if things got ugly.
Fortunately, it wouldn't come to that, Shawn letting out a sigh of relief as the two lowered their guns. Would have preferred Matt to nail the guy between the eyes, but this was an acceptable development.
"Sooooo..." said Shawn, clapping his hands together to finally break the silence. "Now that we're all pals, don't suppose you can enlighten us a little? What's got you so interested in Kitty, pretty sure finding her is the last thing most of us want to do..."
Not including himself and Matt, of course. Well... Not including Matt anyway, Shawn keeping an eye on Fitz' rifle as he waited on his response.
Ah yes, truthful but evasive answers, Shawn's favourite. Made him all the more curious as to what Fitzy was up to, acting all coy about it like that. Perhaps there was something out there that he wanted to disassemble... Or someone. Naaah, more likely the former, he couldn't think of any rational reasons for the latter.
There were the mines of course, blocked off by a series of wooden barricades to prevent anyone from exploring them. Shawn was rather curious himself as to what was hidden away down there, what secrets could be found within those dark tunnels, so maybe Fitz wanted to hack his way inside too? Except... No, the mines were now a dangerzone weren't they? So that couldn't be it...
Damn, now that just made him want to find out what was down there even more.
For now though, Shawn remained silent as Matt and Fitz stared each other down, his hands by his sides as he gulped nervously. He felt confident that he could grab the shottie in a pinch if need be, but it'd be impossible to do so without provoking Fitz. At this point all he could do was wait, mentally ready himself to scramble for cover and pray that Matt was the priority target if things got ugly.
Fortunately, it wouldn't come to that, Shawn letting out a sigh of relief as the two lowered their guns. Would have preferred Matt to nail the guy between the eyes, but this was an acceptable development.
"Sooooo..." said Shawn, clapping his hands together to finally break the silence. "Now that we're all pals, don't suppose you can enlighten us a little? What's got you so interested in Kitty, pretty sure finding her is the last thing most of us want to do..."
Not including himself and Matt, of course. Well... Not including Matt anyway, Shawn keeping an eye on Fitz' rifle as he waited on his response.
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 1467
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Fitz waited, but no shots came. He exhaled in relief.
“I was so ready to be disappointed in you guys,” he said, his voice almost approaching cheerful.
He shifted to the stump he’d been eyeing and sat down, resting the gun in his lap. He tilted it enough so that the part the clip was meant to slide into was pointing towards him. He didn’t make a move towards the clip in his pocket yet.
“As for Kitty, well…” Fitz hesitated, then sighed and said, “Fuck it. I have it on good authority that Ashlyn had a collar radar. So Kitty should have it now. I want it. That’s all.”
“I was so ready to be disappointed in you guys,” he said, his voice almost approaching cheerful.
He shifted to the stump he’d been eyeing and sat down, resting the gun in his lap. He tilted it enough so that the part the clip was meant to slide into was pointing towards him. He didn’t make a move towards the clip in his pocket yet.
“As for Kitty, well…” Fitz hesitated, then sighed and said, “Fuck it. I have it on good authority that Ashlyn had a collar radar. So Kitty should have it now. I want it. That’s all.”