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The Twilight of Our Youth; Endgame is here.
Topic Started: Nov 29 2012, 12:31 AM (3,118 Views)
CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((Karl Chalmers continued from Click.))

So.

The Mall.

It took a while, but somehow Karl managed to eventually find it. He looked up and the large building, before silently pushing the door open and creeping inside.

Apparently, he was the only one who'd never been inside. He'd have to be careful, then. It was a disadvantage for him, to not know the battlefield when everyone else did. He ducked inside a nearby store. It looked like anything useful had already been taken away. Thankfully, the shelves provided good concealment from the hall.

He was almost done with this. One way or another, things would end here. He'd just have to play it smart. The only thing that disturbed him was the prospect of killing someone who had nothing wrong.

"Last, but not least, Jessica Vogel was shot by Karl Chalmers, bringing Mr. Chalmers to two kills."

No... it was too late for that, wasn't it? There was nobody that fell for it. He wanted to think he was upholding justice in this game. In fact, he was only contributed to the chaos.

So be it.

He sat down, behind one of the shelves, and readied his gun.

Now, it was time to play the waiting game.
EVERYTHING I TOUCH DIES!!!

Second Chances V2:
Clair Belvedere - Box of Condoms - Hanging back in Earth Sky From Venus
Christopher Schwartz - Macuahuitl - Catching his breath in I Jumped Out and I Pranked Him to Death with a Tire Iron

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Pippin
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Glen Bole continued from Hollow))

If he had to be completely honest with himself, the mall was pretty much the one fucking place on the island that Glen never wanted to even glimpse again. Naturally, it was the only location on the island that wouldn’t blow the collar around his neck if he stayed there too long. The walk back out of the jungle and back to the mall had been uncomfortably silent and familiar. Glen could remember every landmark they passed without needing his map.

The mall loomed into view far too quickly for Glen’s liking. His final few moments on the island were fast approaching, and in a contained area such as the mall, it was inevitable that he would witness someone getting hurt, and eventually, killed. He could only hope that it wouldn’t be Megan, but even if it was Karl or Nick who died first, Glen wasn’t sure he’d mentally be able to fight on. And then there were the memories associated with the place, of Anna, and of April. Glen silently prayed that they wouldn’t be forced back to where... the incident had occurred.

And then on top of all that... what if it’s me and Megan left at the end? What then, huh? You break your promise? You take an innocent girl’s life to escape? And if you don’t, then you force her to take yours, or, fuck, you both fucking die.

Glen shook his head, trying to dispel his thoughts. There had to be a way out. Some way of getting off the island without killing anybody. Somehow, they would find a way. Glen was sure of it. He’d come too far now, lost too much to not get out of this nightmare.

They were back at the mall entrance where Glen had accused Anna of hiding the gun for nefarious purposes. It felt, somehow, to have been both years and minutes ago. It was yet another thing Glen wanted to forget. He breathed in, breathed out. Looked up at the building defiantly, then stepped inside.

The mall hadn’t physically changed since last time, as far as Glen could tell. There were still shards of broken glass scattered everywhere, tattered signs and empty looking shops. The atmosphere had changed, though, and somehow for the worse. The silence was almost crushing, and the knowledge that there were two other people, hidden somewhere in the building was quite honestly terrifying. As much to compose himself as anything, Glen turned to Megan and spoke, quietly as possible.

“We should probably find some place to hide out in. Somewhere secure and out of the way. You think over there’d be a good start?” Glen pointed in the direction of a line of shops close by.
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Casey the Undead
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((Megan Jacobson, continued from Hollow))

The Mall. Of all of the places to end up, it was the Mall.

Megan hoped she wouldn't trip over any bodies, honestly.

She'd stayed quiet the entire walk to the Mall. It was weird, walking straight towards the final moments of the game. For the rest of it she could live in denial; she was going to be fine, no one was going to shoot her, she could just wander through it on her own. There was none of that now, though. Four people were going to go to the Mall, and one person was going to walk out, and thinking about it made her dizzy and nauseous.

Megan watched as Glen braced himself before walking into the Mall. She knew the feeling, but there was no point anymore. It wouldn't save her life. She gripped her tazer tighter and squared her jaw again. Don't be afraid. Fear will kill you. Fear will make you hesitate. You can't hesitate anymore.

On the way over, Megan had made a choice: living. There wasn't any second place, anymore. She never thought of herself as a killer, still didn't think of herself that way, but she knew that she had to get home. She knew that she was underestimated, that no one would ever see her coming. But she was going to get home. She was going to see her parents and her brother and her dog and breathe real air that didn't taste like blood.

She followed Glen into the Mall, entirely unsure of a plan. All she knew was that she had to win. There was no getting this far for nothing.

Glen mentioned finding a place to hide, and Megan grimaced a bit. "I think that hiding's the wrong word. Try fortifying," she muttered, trying to keep her voice low. It seemed like she and Glen were the first people there, but she had to be prepared. "Over there seems fine."

She clutched her tazer again, and started moving towards the shops Glen had pointed at. "Let's move fast, get there before anyone else shows up. You know the plan. We set up, we stay low," she swallowed thickly. "And we kill 'em if they come."
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Rattlesnake
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[ *  *  * ]
((Nick Reid continued from The Eye of The Storm))

He paused at the threshold, breathing too heavily from his journey, sweat cooling on his body where his bag rested against him. He shivered, rubbing down the goosebumps on his arms as best he could while the door stood silently, patiently, waiting for him to step through it and into the final level of Hell. Checking himself once more, he rattled off a silent list of his assets, nodding towards each as he did so, paying brief respect to each former owner who had contributed, despite their own efforts, to his own survival.

Charlie's body lay before him, clad in vibrant blue and dripping red, her machine pistol gripped tightly in one hand.

Sally screamed a banshee's wail as her own sword bit through her abdomen, the same sword he carried draped over one shoulder.

Jennifer swung at him with animalistic fervor; the knife she'd deemed too subtle or unimportant pinched his hip where he'd thrust it through his belt.

Adam leveled his gun and fired, his two attempts buzzing so thrillingly past his head while he tapped the pocket it now weighed down.

April lay against the door, useless as the ammunition that rattled in his bag with every step; it seemed as if her bullets might fit Adam's gun, but they had proved too different by a maddeningly small amount. There was some delicious great parallel he could draw there, he thought, or that someone else at least could.

His last trophy, another from Jennifer's collection, lay ignobly forgotten on the hotel lawn. He'd actually hurled the weapon right through one of the intact windows once he'd deemed it too burdensome to keep, less out of malice or contempt than the simple fact that he'd never thrown a machete through a window and it seemed like something to try before he died.

Smiling faintly at that thought, he turned his head again for one last look at the world around him. The last trees he might ever see obscured the horizon, the last blades of grass working away with futile strokes at the blood caking his shoes. Craning his neck, he took in what might prove his last bit of blue sky, his final wispy cloud. He filled his lungs with his crowning breath of fresh air, though that seemed a poor descriptor for the thick scent of death and decay invading his nostrils. He thought a moment what that meant; microscopic bits of dead classmates, that's what made up that cloying smell. Enough of them for him to detect (and how, he thought) - enough, he didn't doubt, for some collection of shining tubes and wires sitting in a lab to find the weight of. And maybe it was just one of those truly bizarre things you could never really wrap your head around enough to properly disturb you, maybe he was simply jaded from his week in Hell, maybe it was the decidedly macroscopic application of gore from his waist down to his toes, but whatever the reason he couldn't find it in him to be shocked or really put off by the notion. It was simply one of those facts of life now. Just like the man sitting in front of a monitor somewhere with his finger on the trigger to the bomb around his neck, growing ever more impatient with every moment he dawdled.

There was enough time left, at least, for one more thing. Bowing his head respectfully, he cleared his throat to offer up a simple plea.

"Dear God, or whoever's up there, I know I haven't really kept in touch. But if you care, and I have to hope you do, please, just let this end quickly.

"Um, amen."

He pulled open the door, stepped inside as it swung shut behind him. Nobody lay in wait to murder him, and no bullets came streaking out of the gloom. He allowed himself the smallest sigh of relaxation.

All things considered, he was off to a good start.
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CondorTalon
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[ *  *  *  * ]
He could hear footsteps. Whispering.

His breathing quickened. He couldn't let them know he was here, though. He tried to calm himself down by closing his eyes. Emptying his mind of his thoughts. But it didn't work. He saw the bodies of the people he had killed, and they wouldn't leave his head. He tried to instead picture the other three finalists, what he remembered of them back in their school days. It occurred to Karl that he hadn't run into any of them on the island until now.

Fuck, the footsteps were coming closer, and he was sure they could hear his breathing. Then they'd find him, and his plan wouldn't work.

He slowly got himself up into a kneeling position, with one foot on the ground. His grip on the gun tightened. He could feel the sweat coming down his forehead, mixing with the blood that had splattered from Janet. His shirt was feeling rather heavy all of a sudden, a reminder of Marty's death by his hands.

This was it. It was now or never. He hadn't come all this way just to die here.
EVERYTHING I TOUCH DIES!!!

Second Chances V2:
Clair Belvedere - Box of Condoms - Hanging back in Earth Sky From Venus
Christopher Schwartz - Macuahuitl - Catching his breath in I Jumped Out and I Pranked Him to Death with a Tire Iron

The afterlife
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Pippin
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“Hiding, fortifying, same difference, really.” Glen shrugged as he replied to Megan, voice just as low as hers. “Both cases, we stay in a building and make sure nobody manages to hurt us. But whatever. Let’s just get going.” Now was not the time to get into an argument about which was the correct word for the situation. Glen, even now, wasn’t going to admit he might be wrong though. And hell, what was so shameful about hiding in this game?

Everyone wants to stay alive, right? Human instinct and other such bullshit? Well, if hiding keeps you alive, then there ain’t nothing to be ashamed of. Hell of a lot more preferable to what Nick and Karl’ve done...

Megan had started in the direction Glen had pointed out, softly reiterating the plan. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded in agreement. Sure he knew the plan, and agreed with most of it. It was just the last part that he was concerned about. Kill ‘em if they come, that was how Megan had put it. Was it really that simple, though? Glen wanted to stay alive, and he knew that at least one person would have to die at his hands if that was to happen. But now, right at the very end of the game, the prospect seemed even more impossible than before. He would have to do it, though. He’d have to break his silent promise to Anna. Anna, whose body was somewhere around here, still hopefully covered by a sheet.

As much to break himself from his thoughts as anything else, Glen jogged up to Megan, and started scanning the shops around him. None of them looked incredibly helpful, with broken entrances and smashed windows. One of the shops, though, had somehow survived with just a scattering of large cracks in the glass, and from what Glen could see, there were several standing shelves to use as cover. It was ideal, even if the door had been scattered to Timbuktu or wherever.

“Okay, this should do it.” Glen whispered, nodding towards the shop. “Let’s head inside.” Making sure he avoided any pieces of broken glass lying on the floor, Glen slowly made his way into the shop. There was nothing inside of any use; the shelves having been stripped of everything but dust and errant price tags. The lighting was gone, the shop relying on the light from the rest of the mall for visibility. Glen hoped that Megan had been right; that they had managed to get here before anyone else could show up, and-Karl. Shit.

Karl was here, Glen could see him out of the corner of his eye. Karl was here in the exact same fucking shop that Glen and Megan had picked. What the hell were the chances of that? They needed to get out of here and choose a different shop, pronto. There was always a chance that Karl hadn’t heard them, after all. But if he had, Glen knew he couldn’t turn his and face the door, leaving his back exposed. Slowly, he walked backwards, keeping his back to the door, retracing his footsteps. He was about two or so metres away from the door, when his left foot trod down on a shard of glass, completely unseen to Glen. The shard shattered, the crunch completely audible in the dead silence of the mall. Well, no way Karl didn’t know they were there now.

“Shit.” Glen muttered. No point in being stealthy now. His hand was in his pocket, tightly clutching the handgun. “Stay right there Karl. It’s two-to-one.”
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Something pricked at the back of Megan's neck.

It sounded stupid to say that it was too quiet, but it sort of was. Megan had no idea how close she and Glen had been to the Mall compared to everyone else, but it had felt like it took awhile to get there. Where the hell was everyone else?

She followed Glen closely, trying to keep her eyes all around her at once. It was completely impossible, of course, but Megan's darting vision felt better than keeping herself static. She tapped out a rhythm nervously against her thigh, trying to fight the feeling of utter wrong that was overcoming her.

She took in the Mall completely, the thought really hitting her that this might be literally the last place she ever saw on Earth.

Honestly, she'd been hoping for somewhere prettier.

Glen stopped short, and Megan nearly stumbled into him. She was about to ask what the fuck he was thinking when she saw Karl out of the corner of her eye. So her instinct had been right, then -- they weren't the first people here.

Well. Shit. She started to back up, eyes wide and slightly panicked. If Karl didn't notice her then Karl couldn't hurt her, and if Karl couldn't hurt her then maybe she would get to die somewhere with a view after all.

The sound of crunching glass was louder than gunfire in the empty mall. Megan froze, staring horrified at Glenn's feet. Run! Run run run before he-- But then Glen was speaking, Glen was speaking to Karl and curling a hand around a gun, and Megan was going to die here, in this shitty mall with no decent stores and an awful odor of rotting bodies.

Megan clutched her hand tighter around her taser and worked out her options. Because the thing was that she didn't have a lethal weapon, but she did have two feet, and moving targets were harder to hit. Not to mention, Karl could focus on Glen while Megan bolted. She could find a safe place and be safe and she could live, she could live.

But that meant leaving Glen to die here, and the thought froze her train of thought.

She took several deep breaths, forcing her feet backwards inch by inch. What had she said? Kill 'em if they come.

Well. There was no reason why Glen couldn't be the one doing the killing, was there?
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For Nick, silence yet hung heavy in the air, leaving him alone with the stifling tension, his guns and his blades, his frantic thoughts. It would all be over soon, and he found that elicited a feeling of emptiness rather than relief.

Somehow, the closer the end came, the less any of it seemed to matter.

Maybe he didn't actually believe the terrorists' words, the notion that he or Megan or Glen or Karl would see home again even if they were the last one standing. The man who'd herded them there would find it amusing, no doubt, to watch a busload of kids fight to the death over nothing at all. And one more life to take was nothing after the first 30. Maybe he simply didn't trust anyone to take anything of their former selves back off the island. Glen or Megan would break themselves in murder, surely, if they even survived. Karl was no doubt delusional by that point, as anyone with innocent blood on their hands must be. For himself, it was hard to imagine going home and living life, worrying about grades and doing the dishes and pretending he'd never shot a girl in the gut or slit a man's throat. Or maybe he was simply scared to think about the future because it was odds-on that that meant all of about fifteen minutes.

Instinct clawed at his stomach. He just wanted to live, to go home and eat food that wasn't crackers or bread, to live his life again, or maybe even to wake up from his lurid dream and go to school and see April and Megan and Sally and ignore them like usual. There was a store to his right with one narrow entrance. He could hole up there, put his sights over the doorway and his finger over the trigger, make them come to him.

And then it would all end the same anyways, except maybe with a different "victor," and that didn't really matter any more, did it? If there was no difference, why couldn't he seek out trouble, put his bullets where his fervent plea had been? He was ripping off the scab sooner or later, and the thought of that fatally locked door in the hotel made his stomach lurch almost more than the cloying air. There was no real choice; he had to move on.

Whatever happened, he wasn't going to die with his back to any wall.
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CondorTalon
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It turns out that Karl hadn't exactly been perfect at hiding himself, as he heard a piece of glass breaking and then, moments later, a voice. The voice was telling him it was two on one, like that mattered. Whatever. Karl stood, seeing the two that stood before him.

"Congratulations."

He wasn't sure what he was congratulating them on. Making it this far? Not killing? He held the shotgun level, aiming it at them. Even if they tried anything funny, he could manage to get at least one shot off before things started heading south. His eyes shifted between Glen and Megan.

"What now? Are you going to kill me? Are you willing to shed your innocence just to get home?"

Karl felt like he'd giving a similar speech before. He took a step forward.

Maybe, it would intimidate them and make them back off.

Maybe, they'd leave and run into Nick, and those three could have a bloody jamboree while Karl stayed hidden.

Maybe, if he could avoid anymore conflict, he wouldn't have to shed any more blood.
EVERYTHING I TOUCH DIES!!!

Second Chances V2:
Clair Belvedere - Box of Condoms - Hanging back in Earth Sky From Venus
Christopher Schwartz - Macuahuitl - Catching his breath in I Jumped Out and I Pranked Him to Death with a Tire Iron

The afterlife
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“Congratulations.”

Just the one word came from Karl’s mouth as he stood up from behind the shelves. Glen didn’t exactly see why he was congratulating them, not that it really mattered right now. What did matter was the intimidating looking shotgun Karl was pointing directly at him and Megan. Less than five minutes since he’d stepped into the mall and Glen had run into someone with better fire power than him, and more importantly, who had killed before.

Glen’s brain was almost screaming at him to get the hell out of the shop and get as far away from Karl as possible, and for a moment, his foot twitched a fraction, ready for him to turn and leave. Somehow, he managed to stay where he was. Megan hadn’t run off, after all. Why should he? Why should Karl have the satisfaction and the misguided notion that he was somehow better than Glen for scaring him off?

Karl was talking again, asking what Glen was going to do now. Glen made a derisive noise at Karl when he said “shed your innocence” in such as stupid-ass way. Karl couldn’t say a single fucking word about staying innocent, as if it was a crime. After that, however, there was an uncomfortable pause. Again, Glen had to think. Was he prepared to “shed his innocence?” It was the only way out, apparently. Could he go against everything he’d thought on the island? He would have to; no matter his moral stance, above all else, Glen wanted to live. Simple as that.

“... If that’s what it takes.” Glen responded eventually, sounding much more confident than he felt. “Sure. And I’m pretty sure it’s a little more justified to kill a murderer than, y’know, killing in cold blood. Or do you have a reason for everything? Was Jess secretly a murderer and no-one knew about it? You afraid Janet was gonna fuckin’ self defence you to death or something?” Glen slowly shook his head, keeping his grip on the gun in his pocket. He couldn’t bring it out; any sudden movements, and he was sure Karl wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

“Face it Karl. You did nothing but slaughter a bunch of your own fucking classmates. Don’t you feel proud? If you had gotten back home, would you have thought ‘Wow, I sure am glad I killed a bunch of my innocent fucking classmates, that was totally worth it’? You don’t fucking deserve to get out of here.”
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Megan bit her lower lip as Karl stood up, if only to prevent her from hyperventilating. He had a gun. He had a shotgun, as if this whole thing wasn't already terrible enough. There was no way she could fight a shotgun. There was nothing she or Glen could do except try to talk Karl down, which, good luck with that, considering he was already a known and well-versed Killer of Students.

Basically, Megan knew right away that she was fucked.

Her first instinct was to run, but she already knew that she wasn't going too. There was no way she was ditching Glen to die, and even if she ran Karl could just aim and pull the trigger. She wouldn't get out of the radius far enough, and a shotgun pellet to the back would be enough to do her in. Not to mention she was totally frozen in fear; her legs felt like someone had bolted them to the ground.

Karl started to talk, but Megan only paid him half a mind. She had to find a way out, find a way to distract him long enough to get the gun away. She had nothing but the taser on her, and at this point she was too far away to hit him with blast, even if she could make it so he didn't see her coming. She needed something better, something to divert her gaze. She secretly hoped Nick would bumble into them, and give her the time to strike, but he seemed to be MIA. Maybe he opted out? Laid down wherever he was and let his collar blow him to bits. Wouldn't that be a riot? Karl dropped some more B-Movie dialogue and Glen continued to humor him. Good. It bought her time.

She thought about Nick, about what he had done to Sally, about the conversation they'd had afterwards. Megan had told Nick she didn't want him to die. But now, now. Now things were different. Nick had said that killing Sally was all he could do, and Megan had bought it -- she'd been there, she'd seen it, it was self-defense. Right? But April had called it self defense too, and that fucking bitch had opened up on Megan, Megan who had fucking trusted her. If April was a liar, maybe Nick was too. How much had Megan really seen? What if Sally had tried to yield? What if Nick was just as crazy as Karl? After all he'd stabbed her with --

With glass. With broken glass. Megan eye's widened a bit. Of course! If she could find some glass, something a bit more lethal than her taser. . . she could use the one-two punch. Stun Karl, then stab Karl. She could do it. Distract him long enough to get a good shard, and she could buy herself a few more minutes. But she'd need to get near Sally's corpse, wherever the hell that was. She needed to move -- she needed Karl to let her move.

Glen was spewing out some nonsense about deserving to live when she snapped back into the conversation. Shit. All that would do is piss Karl off. She didn't need that, she couldn't have that, a pissed-off Karl would be a trigger-happy Karl and a trigger-happy Karl meant a Very Dead Glen and Megan. Her mind raced as a plan formulated, and she started speaking right as Glen stopped.

"Deserve to get out of here? What the fuck are you talking about Glen?" She was snapping at him, tone clipped and pissed. "Last week we were all in fucking Trig together, don't act like we didn't all start out the same way. We can't pretend that this is some sort of morality test where the good and pure are the ones who get out. Karl played the fucking game, maybe he deserves it more than we do, you ever think of that?" Megan hadn't even thought of that until she said it, actually. Of course the good guys were the ones who deserved to get out. That was the way it always was, right? "Karl listened to the rules and did what he was told, and we sat back and let our friends die. Fuck, at least he was fucking active, you know? What the fuck did we do?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Don't talk about this like it's some sort of video game with a running karma meter -- we are all as fucked up as each other, and you know it. No one deserves to die, and no one deserves to live. This is real fucking life. Shit. Happens."

She turned her attention away from Glen, satisfied. She hoped once Karl was out of the way she would have time to explain everything to Glen. She hoped he wouldn't be too pissed off at her, but she needed Karl on her side. She needed Karl to think she was with him, that was key.

"Look Karl, I don't want to die, but we can't all live, I get that. But don't do it right now. Don't pull the trigger -- you need us." She swallowed, keeping her chin up and the waver out of her voice. She was a fucking drama kid for God's sake, and this was gonna have to be the performance of her life. "Nick's still out there. He's your biggest threat, he's the only other killer here. Me and him are friends. I was there when he killed Sally Connelly, we got split up later on, but we parted as friends. He trusts me. Don't kill me. Use me. We can be bait, me and Glen. Leave us out in the open, draw Nick out. He'll come to me, he'll want to..." she paused, shrugging a bit. "Well, I don't know if he'll want me dead or alive, but he'll come to me if he sees me, either way. Once Nick goes to me, kill him first. Get your competition out of the way, get the hard part done with. Glen and I aren't threats, we can't do anything, and you know that. We can be on your side until Nick's gone."

She took a deep breath, plowing forward. "Nick will go to Sally Connelly's body first, he's remorseful about her. It's by the H&M. Take us there. Take Glen and me there and use us, Karl. Play the game." She swallowed hard, refusing to break eye contact. "Use your head. Win."

All she needed was for Karl to believe her. All she needed was the chance.

Everything after that would be luck.
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CondorTalon
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Glen was pissing him off.

They both kind of were, honestly. He just wanted them to leave, but they wouldn't. Glen seemed to think that he was completely above Karl, and that he could say whatever the hell wanted. Jess's death was his fault, but he wasn't there when Janet attacked. And what was his excuse? He was standing by and letting his friends die, all because he couldn't let his conscience loosen for a bit. Maybe that would have been excusable back home, or maybe on the first day on the island, but not anymore.

He had trained his gun on Megan when she started talking, but quickly realized that that wasn't the best idea. He settled for leaving the barrel aiming between them, so he could easily respond to any threats.

Maybe if he was lucky he could fire once and hit both of them.

Megan was telling Karl about her plans. She wanted him to cooperate. He didn't think that a possibility like that would arise, but it said a lot about Megan. She was either really stupid or... it was a trap. He didn't believe that she would be someone whocould pull that off, but then the thought that she could make a plan like that and not see how it could backfire, on either of them, was ridiculous.

Even if their plan were to go off as intended, what's to say that either of them wouldn't betray him afterwards? What's to say that Nick wouldn't be prepared for something like that?

"Shut up. Both of you."

Karl felt uneasy at the tension that had been building up. He took a step forward again. He felt that somehing needed to happen soon. Something was going to happen soon, and he needed to be ready for it.
EVERYTHING I TOUCH DIES!!!

Second Chances V2:
Clair Belvedere - Box of Condoms - Hanging back in Earth Sky From Venus
Christopher Schwartz - Macuahuitl - Catching his breath in I Jumped Out and I Pranked Him to Death with a Tire Iron

The afterlife
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Glen had expected some sort of response from Karl first of all. He hadn’t had a clue what that might have been, but it was he who Glen’s tirade was directed at. Would he react angrily? Would he become scared and meek at the sight of two people facing against him? Would he try to speak or would he try to run? Or did he have something else concocted in his head?

As it turned out, the answer was none of the above. Megan reacted first, and not at all in a way Glen had expected or that he appreciated. She completely flipped, ranting on and on at him about what he’d just said. Glen didn’t dare turn to look at her, in case Karl did something, but the look on his face was one of utter confusion and annoyance. This quickly grew into one Glen was much more familiar with; anger. Never mind what he had been talking about, what the fuck was Megan going on about? Saying shit like Karl deserved to get out more than they did, how fucking dare she? Did she want him to escape, now? If so, she could just go and get shot for all he cared. Of course none of them had deserved to die when they were placed on the island. But that had been before Karl had murdered some of those undeserving kids. He had killed in what sounded like cold blood, and Glen knew that Karl didn’t deserve to escape over him in the slightest.

And then there was that one thing, that one offhanded comment Megan made. “We sat back and let our friends die.” The one thing that was eating away at Glen from the inside, the thing he regretted most about everything that had happened here. The fact that he hadn’t managed to save Ben and Anna. And Megan was acting as if he’d done nothing to try and prevent their deaths.

Megan then started talking about how Karl needed the two of them, and Glen was perfectly ready to punch her in her stupid fucking face. She was trying to negotiate with a fucking murderer and she wanted them both to act as bait. Was she actually fucking retarded or something? The hell kind of plan was this? The “give up everything and lie down to die” plan? Fuck this. Fuck this stupid bitch.

Thankfully, Karl was stupider than he looked, unwilling to take Megan up on the plan that would have guaranteed him two kills. He simply told them both to shut up. Glen, fuelled by anger now, didn’t hesitate in replying.

“Shut up, you say? Why? Actually, scratch that, fair enough that Megan should shut the fuck up because she’s being a stupid fucking moron. But what are you gonna do if we don’t, eh, Karl? Shoot us? That’s the way you fucking work, right, that’s the answer to everything? Do as I say, or I fucking shoot you?” Glen took a step forwards, like Karl. He moved the gun in his pocket slightly, ready to draw it at the slightest hint of something suspicious.

“You’re a fucking coward who thinks he’s the big man, now he’s got a gun. You don’t deserve shit.”
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Casey the Undead
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[ *  *  *  * ]
Megan thought she was going to burst into tears.

This was the worst possible answer, the worst case scenario. She'd been trying, she'd been trying so goddamned hard. And yeah, okay, it wasn't the best formulated plan in the history of plans -- but it was done last-minute and under pretty extreme duress, so she thought she deserved some slack. Karl had ignored her, but she'd bought them a minute where he wasn't shooting. She couldn't puzzle through his head or anything, but he hadn't killed them yet, and that had to mean something. Megan was banking on it meaning something.

Megan was also banking on Glen not being a stupid heroic fucking idiot for two minutes, but that had been shot to hell pretty quickly. Not only was Glen not catching on to her plan at all, but he was actively making things worse.

In her head, she took a quick tally of All the Things That Went Wrong:

1. Glen had ignored her plan entirely, foiling any shot they had at gaining the upper hand.
2. Glen had called Megan a "stupid fucking moron," actively revealing that she and Glen did not have a very strong alliance due to his total willingness to toss her aside.
3. Glen had started openly antagonizing Karl, which would undoubtedly make Karl angry. And since Karl had them held at gun point, making him angry was probably not a good thing to do.

But the icing on top of the Everything is Going to Utter Shit Cake was Glen's snappy closing remark. Megan wanted to cry. She wanted to grab her hair and yank it all out. She wanted to shake Glen by the shoulders and scream -- What the fuck do you think you're doing?! This isn't some fucking movie where you can talk the Villain off the ledge! This isn't a fucking game! He's got a fucking gun, we're going to fucking die! Abandon your high horse for a moment you idiot, don't you get it? You just fucking killed us! You just FUCKING KILLED US!

Megan couldn't say any of that though, she couldn't even move. All she could do was repeat her mantra in her head, over and over again, Richard Adams echoing in her skull. If they catch you they will kill you, but first they must catch you. If they catch you they will kill you.

Well. We're pretty fucking caught, aren't we?


She wanted to scream and sob and beg Glen to take it all back. She wanted to hold her head up high and stare Karl in the eye and die a hero, with a witty retort and half a smirk. She wanted to be brave, and she wanted to be a coward, and she wanted to fucking live. But all of that was blown to shit, now. She couldn't want anymore. She just had to wait.

So choked down a sob, straightened her back, held her head up, and squeezed her eyes shut.

And she waited.
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CondorTalon
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this avatar satisfies me so well
[ *  *  *  * ]
Glen didn't shut up, though. Quite the opposite, he was talking even more, telling Karl off. Karl didn't know what was going through Glen's head, because the one thing that wouldn't make sense in this context would be to make the guy with the shotgun angry.

It was working, though. Glen was making Karl angry, and he did in fact have a shotgun. Glen stepped forward, and Karl realized something odd about Glen's posture. He'd had a hand in his pocket this whole time, and Karl only just realized that he might have had something in there.

Karl couldn't hesitate anymore. He couldn't let anymore bad things happen to him. He had already lost an ally through his cowardice, but he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

Glen told him off, saying that Karl only thought he was the bigger man because he had a gun. Well, Karl knew that wasn't true, but he could pretend that he really did think that, because Karl was at the end of his rope.

And so, he quickly brought the barrel in Glen's direction and fired. He only hoped he was fast enough.
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