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Ones Who Fly Twos Who Die; Open!
Topic Started: Mar 10 2014, 01:04 PM (1,692 Views)
Pippin
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Several hours ago, Bunny had been sitting in front of a camera, idly eating something, with absolutely no idea of what to say to the lens positioned in front of her.

The situation now was much the same. Only her comfy desk chair had been replaced with a rock, her bowl of chips was now a half-eaten Slim Jim, and the camera was attached to a tree, rather than her laptop.

Oh, and she was on Survival of the Fittest. There was that, too.


SS1-BUNNY BARLOWE-START

Bunny had woken in a daze, in pain, cramp all over. She’d spent several minutes trying to clear her head, so very similar to the people Bunny had watched so many times before. The memories had come slowly, but clearly. She’d finally turned the webcam on and had only just started recording when she was suddenly interrupted. A knock on the front door, a pause, then her dad standing in her bedroom doorway, face pale, like he’d seen a ghost, slowly explaining to Bunny what was going on. There’d been no point in resisting. Bunny had had just enough time to mutter “I have a feeling I’ll be away for a while”, before turning the recording off.

Some slightly irrational part of Bunny had hoped her parents would upload that. Her very possibly last vlog.

Bunny had remembered waking up in that, too stunned to move or cry out, too scared to breathe or resist. She’d remembered the exact moment that realisation had struck; that everything she’d watched since she was 11 was now happening to her. She’d remembered being told to kill or be killed. Then she’d gotten down to business. The important stuff, that she’d seen time and time again. The search through the bag. Bunny had removed each item in turn and carefully placed it on the ground next to her bag. There’d been all the usual stuff, everything she’d expected. The map and compass, flashlight, first aid kit and bandanna were all standard. Bunny had admired the bandanna for a few seconds. Silver, with a fairly neat image of a scorpion on it. Much cooler than last season’s block colours, she had to admit. She’d also stared for a decent while at her ‘weapon’. The fuck was she supposed to do with a bright pink scooter? Ride around the island on it, on her way to victory?

Okay, that image had been kinda funny. It still hadn’t brought a laugh out of Bunny, though. The other stuff in the bag had been the food, which Bunny had thought was a little less nutritious than was probably advised, a condom, which after 65 seasons of being a constant was not surprising to see in the slightest, and some more clothes. Bunny had taken her glasses off after looking over everything and idly chucked them into her bag. It wasn’t like she was particularly going to need them anymore.

There’d also been a carefully folded garment which turned out to be a bunny outfit. As in, a Playboy bunny outfit. She guessed it was supposed to be funny.

... Okay, again, it was kinda funny. Her name, and all. Yeah. She still wasn’t ever going to wear it. Probably. Depending on the circumstances.

And now, here she was, sitting on a rock by the side of a river, facing a camera attached to a wiry, dead tree, and for the first time in her life, completely lost for words. Her face was being broadcast to millions of people round the globe, and she couldn’t even think of anything witty to say.

Bunny couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t wanted to be famous and recognised everywhere she went. Possibly when she was little, but she couldn’t remember that far back. Her dream was fame and fortune, and she’d worked as hard as possible to make that dream a reality. Acting, vlogging, playing the violin, everything she’d worked at, every mistake she’d made, it had all been part of her climb towards stardom. And now here she was. In front of a camera.

Yeah, Bunny had always known she’d find her way onto TV someday.

She’d just never expected it to quite pan out like this.
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Serpico
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SS5 - Corin Albanesi - Start

Corin awoke to the unfamiliar sight of nature which surrounded him; he was quick to sit up, finding much discomfort in everything around him. He was aware enough to know what was happening, the presence of the rifle of unknown - to him - manufacture was enough to solidify that this was in fact very real and very much occurring. He prayed briefly that through some contrived method that this was in fact that result of a particularly vivid dream, or a mental break and not reality. Though really, deep down he knew that it was a vain prayer that would be lost before it reached a god – if there was any he figured.

He took a long pause to weigh up his options, as he was sure that any movement would end catastrophically thanks to a folly on his part. Any camera focused on him would see the young lad was very much thinking, slow to compose himself and very reserved in movement – obviously hesitant. Eventually, realising that death was not tearing around the corner immediately and suddenly like a frantic maniac did he dare to assess his day pack contents. Gingerly he surveyed the silver bandanna that signified his place on his team, wrapping it around his wrist where he intended it to remain.

When he finally stood, his legs buckled unexpectedly, he was in visible shock and for a moment his steps were uncertain. Everything appeared briefly hyper realistic in a semiotic sense, in his disorientation as he tried to comprehend how such things could happen to him. He cradled his rifle tightly in his grasp, not daring to use it as a crutch for fear that he would inadvertently shoot himself - as he did not know if there were live rounds in the internal magazine or not- and in fear of losing it. It was unexpectedly unwieldy; if he were allowed time to grow accustomed to its feeling that would not be a great problem, though the question was if he would. There was a manual, thankfully, but the idea of using it was daunting enough that he did not dare to think of what uses he would put it to.

He proceeded cautiously, because he was anxious to find those that he was affiliated with and unwilling to meet strangers who were not. His pace was steady and slow until he was confident that he could maintain a balance close to norm and that he was not about to faint. In this situation he would be easily taken by shock or surprise, and so moved along paths that looked as though they were the least conspicuous. His hopes were that if he happened to run into a stranger, that they would at least be passive enough to avoid trouble so early on. He was traveling close to what appeared to be a river or stream, though normal in appearance, it gave him an uneasy feeling that he attributed to the fears bubbling up so insidiously inside of him. Further ahead of him was a figure that he could not discern, and so his approach was cautious and slow. He dared not speak up to arouse attention as he preferred to anxiously observe. He was looking for a tell-tale sign, like a similar flash of silver fabric.
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Pippin
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Words still refused to make their way to the surface, but at the very least, Bunny’s mind was returning to something that could qualify as ‘working condition’. Maybe that was the best case scenario. At least her stunned silence meant she couldn’t blurt out anything stupid. She couldn’t inadvertently rage at the cameras, which she knew would have no effect aside from simply amusing the producers. Humour, too, was incredibly subjective, something she knew all too well. Something that seemed hilarious inside her still slightly foggy head would probably make her look like a complete idiot.

See, her thoughts were working perfectly fine. Mostly Bunny was thinking about how much she wanted to punch every single member of the SOTF team in the dick. Raging outwards would only leave her foolish, but raging inside her head gave her a small amount of satisfaction. There were more tactical thoughts floating around, though. Bunny knew that whatever knowledge she’d gained from watching SOTF was nothing compared to actually living it, but it would hopefully give her a tiny bit of an advantage. Hopefully.

For starters, there was the Slim Jim that Bunny was currently eating. She looked at the stick of dried meat, a blank look still on her face. There was a decent amount of food in her bag, but Bunny didn’t know how long she’d have to stay on the island for. The obvious thing to do was to portion her supplies out over each day; eating the bare minimum and all.

This Slim Jim was a freebie. Yeah.

The next thing on Bunny’s mind was the bandanna lying on the ground with the rest of her stuff. Slowly, she picked it up, tying it around her neck. Anything to block the collar from mind and view. She could still feel the cold metal around her neck, only enhanced by the chill in the air, but it was something at least. If she could find anyone else on the Scorpion team in the next three days, she’d be exceeding her own expectations and then some.

Finally, what was she going to do from here on out? Bunny looked around the orchard as she considered her options. She wanted to live, obviously; everyone did, though, and that was the problem. Bunny wasn’t prepared to take the ten kill option; Karen had done it successfully, but Bunny had no idea what that had done to the girl mentally. Even if she had planned on that route, her fucking scooter would have made it a lot harder to kill anyone, aside from in an incredibly brutal, bloody manner. God, the viewers at home would love that, wouldn’t they?

Bunny was saved from making herself physically sick with the mental image she’d conjured by her wandering eyes catching sight of another figure slowly walking towards her. A familiar one. She thought, at least. It was that artsy baseball player, right? Corbin, Corey... Colin? Something? She hadn’t been particularly close to him, which was a shame, but she knew of him, and that was a start. Bunny quickly looked back at the camera on the tree, and her voice finally returned. Shakier and quieter than normal, but there.

“Here we go then... the game begins...”

A similarly shaky smile made its way onto Bunny’s face, as she stood up, hands raised as a signal of peace. As the gap between her and Corin closed, she glimpsed a flash of silver around his wrist. Could it be that Corin was on her team, that she’d already found a friendly face? There was no doubt about it; that was the same colour silver as the one currently around her neck. The nervous smile on Bunny’s face grew a little. She still didn’t know the guy’s name for certain, but if in doubt, give ‘em a nickname. It never failed.

“Cor! Good to s... well, no. It sucks that you’re here. But, um...” Bunny pointed to her bandanna, smile still somehow on her face. “Same teams! That’s a start, right? Can’t be many people to have found a teammate, huh? You, um... you... alright...?”
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When he caught her attention he started to shake violently, profusely sweating in his clothes despite the cooled air of the outdoors. His tremors were visible, terribly so, and his heart began to palpitate as his body worked autonomously. His grip tightened on the rifle, and he made a motion as if to hold it aloft but stopped before mid-way. He didn’t know how to operate it, and it seemed she was in the motion of surrendering. He looked noticeably distressed and fearful; she would find that his eyes were wandering from her bandanna to her own eyes; he was visibly thinking or assessing. He started to breathe deeply and slowly as if to calm slightly before speaking up.

“Sorry.” It came out at a strange pitch, a vocal snap with awkwardness comparable to when the voice breaks in an adolescent male.

“I ha-“his rifle lowered and fingers were far from the trigger, but his grip on the stock was still firm, his fingertips going white from the pressure he was exerting on it. He formulated his words very slowly and shakily paused, not returning a smile of any sort. His eye contact broke as he assumed a very defensive body language, clutching the rifle as if it were an island of safety.

“Just, that you know. I wasn’t planning on shooting. I’m just, I- it’s that, I feel sick to my stomach and there’s nothing to vomit out.” He voice wavered out ever so slightly, as he realised that he sounded a little disjointed. He wasn’t communicating what he was feeling properly either, as what he had meant to say was that he was feeling very uneasy.

However, now that he had found a team member he was feeling a little less threatened, for he felt uneasy when moving in solitary. Even the brief time he had spent cautiously traveling had been mentally straining for him, as he had feared a sudden ambush. So now that he had a companion, he was able to calm enough to recall that her face was familiar. There was no name to match with her appearance, as he’d never actually spoken to her in the past but had at times seen her from afar. He tried to recall her name, falling silent for a time as the gurgling river and sounds of nature quickly became the dominating aural element for a short time.

“I don’t remember your name.” he admitted tactlessly, feeling regretful as she apparently knew his. His eyes trailed to the bright pink scooter and a pressure caught in his throat, grimly realising that there was only one proper weapon between the two of them. His expression seemed visibly disheartened as he very plainly gazed at the toy.
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Pippin
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“Oh...”

Bunny couldn’t hide it; her face fell slightly when Cor revealed he had no idea who she was. She was far from being a complete unknown in Whittree, after all. Was it possible Cor had an identical twin that she’d never met? Bunny studied the boy in front of her for a few seconds. Nope, this was definitely Cor; same clothes he wore, same facial structure, all that.

Those seemed to be the only things that connected the Corin standing in front of Bunny with the Corin from school, however. When he’d spoken, his voice had come out as if he was unused to using it, all high-pitched and disjointed as it was. He was clutching the rifle close to him as if it was the last person on Earth, he was pale and shaky and...

Well, he probably looked just how Bunny did, really. Right now, she just wanted to lie down on the ground and just stop. Watch the clouds drift along, feel the wind chill her body and wait, because everything in her perfect little world had just imploded and Bunny was completely and unbelievably out of her depth.

But as Bunny followed Corin’s line of sight to her fucking scooter, she caught a glimpse again of the camera on the tree. Watching her, constantly, day and night. Millions of people staring at their screens, whether it be that of a TV or computer or whatever device they chose. They’d see her and judge her. Bunny had two choices. She could just stop, lie down, shake and quiver like Corin, or she could show the entire world just who Bunny Barlowe really was.

Bunny gave the camera a small smile before she looked back at Cor. There never had been any other choice, really.

“It’s Bunny! Bunny Barlowe!” she said, traces of her usual pep and cheer returning to her voice. She’d had to dig deep to find them again, but they were there; nestled and buried underneath everything that had happened.

“And yeah, Cor, I know my weapon sucks. I mean, they could have given me a scooter in our team’s colour, but nooo, bright pink it had to be. Compared to the clothes they gave me though, it’s absolutely perfect.”

It all felt so forced. All this cheer, this feeling of confidence she was giving off. It was all bullshit, and she knew it. The question was, did the audience? Did Cor? He looked like he needed help, someone to stay strong for him, and Bunny was always willing and ready to help.

“Have you been awake long? If you’re feeling sick, just... breathe a little. Have some water; you can take some of mine, if you’d like.”
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He surveyed her expression as she spoke and as she moved; she looked to be doing better than he was at least. He could tell to some degree that she shared the unease, but as she moved it began to visibly fade. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, inhaling and exhaling sharply as she said to. He required an air of confidence right now, but by nature he was a fairly reserved person, he was aware of this.

“I’ve got my own drink, thanks.” he stated softly whilst opening his eyes, shifting his bag off his shoulder and reaching in with one hand. He searched awkwardly while also holding the rifle. He procured both an Aquafina mineral water and his rifle manual from its pockets. He shakily had a drink, but it did little to alleviate his stomach, the bottle disappeared again into his bag pockets.

“I’ve been wandering for something like a half hour, I think.” he added as he put his bag back to it proper place.

“You’re from the drama class, Bunny?” He spoke quickly, after seeing her face falter slightly as he feared that he’d offended her by forgetting her name. Though still visibly shaken his voice resembled what it was normally, as though her pluckiness was tricking him into calming down. His fingers seemed to release the rifle stock just the slightest, so that the colour of his right finger tips began to show as normal. His eyes darted quickly from her to the surroundings, as if guarding from something beyond sight, for just a brief moment despite not hearing anything out of place.

He wondered if it were at all possible for him to collect himself the same. He finally smiled briefly at her, a subtle and fleeting one. With his left hand he held his manual aloft so that she could plainly see it, he had thought of this immediately upon spotting the scooter. Realising it was very possible that it would fall on him to keep the pair of them alive. “If your weapon is shit, then we might just have to find a better one.” His hand was jittery, and it was very obvious as the pages shifted in his grip.

“We both should probably read this; in case I can’t use it - I’d like you to have a look at it too.” He looked to her eyes, watching her expression as he offered the small booklet. The tone of his voice was glum, but it was a slight improvement from the way he spoke just a little earlier. He wondered perhaps that if he watched Bunny enough, that perhaps he would be able to learn to fake the confidence to make it.
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Theeeeere it was. That was what Bunny had been hoping for. Cor had finally cracked a smile. Admittedly, it had been tiny and lasted for approximately a millisecond, but hey, it was a start. Acorns and oak trees and however that phrase went.

Cor still looked and sounded as nervous and downhearted as Bunny felt inside as he handed the manual for his rifle over to her, though. Bunny gave him a smile that she hoped came across as warm as she’d intended it to, as she took the booklet from him.

“Oh, hey, good idea! That way we don’t have one person who knows how to use that-“ Bunny gestured to Cor’s rifle. “And one person who knows how to ride a scooter around.”

Bunny giggled slightly, skimming through the booklet. It all looked... surprisingly complicated, honestly. All the stuff about the scope and reloading and whatever the hell bolt-action meant. Bunny had, on several instances of watching SOTF, laughed at the so-called stupidity of the people on it, failing to load guns correctly, wading into fights with the safety firmly on. Now that she was in the thick of it, she could understand just how they made these mistakes.

“Ehhh... shouldn’t be too complicated!”

A little white lie; most likely the first of many. There was no use in giving negative feedback to somebody who already appeared to be near the end of their tether. There was still time to completely understand the mechanics of the rifle after all, especially seeing as there didn’t appear to be anyone about. As Bunny read and attempted to digest the contents of the manual, she considered what Cor had said. He’d been wandering, apparently, so that suggested he hadn’t met anybody else aside from her, which didn’t really help. Bunny had been hoping he’d at least passed by a few people, been able to tell her what people were doing right now. Any lead was an advantage, and with her fucking scooter, any advantage was a huge lifeline.

“Right, well, Cor, to answer your question; I am indeed from the drama class! I’m kinda used to the cameras, y’see.” Bunny tried to laugh at her own statement, but it just felt hollow. She was fairly certain her smile had faltered as well. Quickly, she had to get things back on track, make sure Cor and everyone else believed she was still in control of herself.

“So... so it sounds like we have a plan already! Getting another weapon would be much appreciated. Not much I can do with a fucking scooter, is there? Unless I incapacitate people by making them laugh too much. If that’s what we’re gonna do, though, can you check your map quickly? I’d kinda like to head for some indoors area, if that’s alright with you! A skirt probably wasn’t the best choice in clothing, huh?”

Bunny looked down at her outfit, the wind and frost on the ground really starting to chill her now. Her tights were stopping her from being colder than she could have been, and at least she had her cap on. But it was still chilly. The alternative, however, was either tank-top or Playboy bunny. The clothes Bunny was in would do just fine for now.
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((JRII Forrest Doe, continued from The Aqua-Museum))

Forrest now knew what the fat boy meant, when he told him he froze.

When Forrest exited the museum he felt the coldness, fortunately for him he had his toque on his head and was already used to coldness, as he exercised outside even at fall and winter. Also for him being outside in the cold was more appealing than sitting with the odd fat guy in the museum. Even though the body of the boy must probably be warm and comfortable and cozy and...eww. He couldn't see the black-haired girl anywhere, so he began to move to an unspecific direction.

He put his map out and used it to orient himself. He put his map back in his bag, but also put his club there. He could always use his fists when he needed to defend himself. And in case he was in a dangerous situation he could still put his club out. But having no club in the hand made him look less threatening and also made it easier to move around. Because, after he finished the bag of saltine, took a sip of the waterbottle and threw the bag away, he jogged to move forward faster.

Forrest could see the Ice Palace from the distance, but decided not to go there and freeze himself more. So he decided to continue to jog straight.

His body was freezing and he even shortly considered changing into the warm-looking banana suit. He however thought he would look stupid in it.

Later he arrived at the Orchard, he saw nothing but the snowy surroundings. However when he entered the Orchard deeper he could see two people.

When he saw them he hid behind a tree, or what was left of the once leaf-filled tree. The girl had a silver bandana around her neck and the boy had a silver bandana around his wrist. It's a team!

He could recognize both of them, as both of them were at his school:

The girl was Bunny, who looked sexy and was a vegetarian, too. On the other hand she liked SOTF, which made Forrest a bit skeptical, whether she is hostile or not. But she seemed to be an okay girl.

The guy was Corin, who played baseball with him. And he played baseball with such a skill, Forrest envied him a bit. But Forrest knew he was not a good baseball player and especially not a good pitcher.

While he hid behind the tree he was in panic. The reason was, because he saw their weapons. The scooter did not scare him, but the gun. It was the first time Forrest saw a real gun, not through some medias. He thought he couldn't escape from them, as they might shoot him if they hear him. If he ran away he might be dead. So he tried to appear open and friendly. He wanted to greet them. He hoped they wouldn't shoot him. He hoped Corin wouldn't shoot him.

After putting his bag behind the tree, he came out of the tree, hid his right arm, where his bandana was, behind his back and waved with his left arm.

"Ey! Corin!"
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“Instead we’ll have two people who will know how to fire a rifle while riding a scooter instead.” He remarked, little humour showed on his expression and it seemed to be laced with something akin to bitterness. At the very least once he had the manual back in hand he seemed to grow quiet. Leafing through the pages a little, it seemed a little daunting to one uninitiated to the use of firearms, but the rifle itself was relatively simple to understand in theory if one could digest the instructions. However, the actual hands on experience would have been much more valuable. He folded up the book, and slid it into his pants pocket.

"Let me find the map in my bag –."

Corin had considered giving her his sweater as she complained of the cold, as his fan service costume seemed to be relatively good for the weather. As such he did not particularly mind wearing the jacket. He was not able to make such an offer however, nor continue in that vein of thought. As Corin heard a familiar voice, it seemed almost as though it cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Corin visibly flinched upon hearing it, and resumed his shaking. His body turned to face the voice very suddenly, it was quite jarring. He seemed to move to place himself just in front of Bunny, though this could have easily been because he was the one being addressed.

He raised the rifle to point towards him, to gesture that there was a personal space that should be maintained. The barrel seemed to jitter in intense motions as it pointed towards Forrest. Corin did not support the gun properly in the space between the shoulder and chest, and as such some of the shaking may have been attributed to the weight of the weapon and the possibly uncomfortable way that he seemed to be supporting it. And although he had been quick to raise the rifle, no shot followed soon after. His finger however was dangerously close the trigger, but it was not a conscious choice.

“Forrest.” Corin responded after a brief time, voice sounding strained, strange and unfriendly. As he pushed the first syllable out saliva escaped his mouth and trailed down his chin, but he didn’t dare wipe it. Usually, when Corin greeted Forrest his tone of voice was much more kind and amiable. The way that Corin was speaking now was antisocial, and though the boy was shy, it seemed to juxtapose with his cordial self. It was probably because for the first time in a while, Corin did not seem glad to see Forrest.

“Forrest, He-eeeey.” His eyes seemed to survey him with a wild expression, and the greeting was far too drawn out to be comfortable. He’d almost not realised that the other boy was concealing one hand, despite taking in his appearance and surveying him. The last thing he wanted was a conflict of any sort at the moment, particularly with someone who he held in kind regard.

After a time he collected enough words, “I’m going – I’m going to have ask you to put your hands in the air. An-and show your team colour.” He finally stammered out, suspecting that he was concealing a weapon behind his back. “Don’t step closer, Sorry. You can talk from over there.” He added, looking visibly distressed. He very much hoped to see another silver bandanna; he really did, because he was unsure of how he would conduct himself otherwise. He knew however, that with the rifle in hand he should be able to control the flow of the conversation.
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Bunny didn’t respond to Cor’s... joke? She guessed that was what it had meant to be; after all, the image of them both zipping around the resort on her bright pink scooter, guns blazing, would have made her laugh at the best of times. Even now, she couldn’t help but imagine them both wearing sunglasses whilst doing so. But Cor hadn’t laughed, or even reacted much. So Bunny didn’t either. Understanding your allies was the best way of keeping them, after all.

There was little time for Bunny to try and clear the air, however, before a figure appeared from behind a nearby tree. She was secretly pleased she hadn’t managed to jump out of her skin, what with the cameras watching her and all, and especially because the figure was someone she actually knew. She was sure there’d been people she hadn’t recognised during the introductory talk, and Bunny knew everyone at Whittree; had all of the other school been dumped in a completely different location? Whatever. Sidetrack. Forrest was a baseball player, like Cor, and someone else who she’d sadly never really managed to get to know. Then again, he generally seemed more comfortable with people in the same clubs as him

Bunny had, briefly, hoped that Cor and Forrest’s relationship, whether they were friends or just guys in the same sports team, would mean things remained cordial and peaceful. But Cor was just as twitchy and scared as he had been earlier, and his fear was making him play smart. If Bunny had learnt one thing from this show, it was that trust was almost nonexistent. Everyone wanted to live, and someone who had been your bestest buddy at school might not be feeling the same way about you when things came down to the wire. Trust was slightly easier to come by, now, with the introduction of teams, but as for everyone else, there was no certainty.

Still, the way Cor greeted Forrest still unnerved Bunny. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, allowing a slight look of concern onto her face. The drawn out syllables, the look in his eyes... yeah, Cor was not coping with the situation right now. Getting Forrest to show his team colour was fine, getting him to stay back was fine too. Pointing the rifle at him? That was where problems began to spring up.

“Sorry, Forrest, but we do need to see your team!” Bunny added, once Cor had finished speaking. “And your weapon, if possible!” She didn’t like the direction this was going, but if she could stay calm, she could try and keep things safe. Bunny leaned in closer to Cor, voice just above a whisper.

“Cor... Put the gun down. Lower it, before things get out of hand...”
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Finally Corin turned to Forrest. However Corin's gun also turned to Forrest.

Forrest first reaction was to move backwards. He planned that he should hide behind the tree again, but he did not dare doing that. Even though trees could probably block bullets, Corin and Bunny still could kill him if they moved towards him.

So when Forrest was told to put his hands up and show his team colour, he hesitated at first and expected Corin to shoot him when he finds out that they weren't in the same team, but then Bunny told him to show his team colour and weapon. In a more friendly way. And with that Forrest scrapped his plan of hiding behind the tree and just to show his team, hoping Bunny would help him in some way. The fact that Bunny liked SOTF was now petty to him.

"I just have a club."

After he closed his eyes, Forrest slowly put both of his hands up and revealed his bandanna, hoping he wouldn't be shot.

"Don't shoot me", Forrest whispered.
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His eyes tracked back to Bunny’s face once he heard her whispers, they seemed very dull and he had almost not realised she was talking to him. He nodded slowly in agreement with her words as he observed the boy pleading to not be shot. His heart was racing, but he now had other thoughts upon realising that Forrest was unarmed. He tracked the rifle to the side; the breech was still empty, but Corin was likely the only one who realised that at this point.

“Alright,” He murmured, realising now that all Forrest was hiding was his Jade bandanna.

He looked at Forrest, with his hands raised in the air, pleading meekly to not be shot. The more he looked at the situation the more exasperated he was starting to feel. If Forrest had been transparent about his team colour there was no doubt that this would not have escalated so fast. Corin wondered what the other two were thinking, and how they were judging his actions. His eyes averted from making eye contact, the winter chill blew into his face and it made him feel nauseous. He did not know if this error was on account of fright on Forrest’s part, part of it was certainly to blame on the game itself, but at the moment Corin chose to focus his blame on the boy in front of him.

“JESUS CHRIST, FORREST.” Corin snapped momentarily, bursting into berating remarks. His voiced travelled loudly through the environs, likely the loudest anyone had ever seen him.

“I thought you were packing a pistol all sneaky like and - and shit! What were you thinking?”

“I thought were a legitimate threat. What were you going to do if I fired? Run, Forrest?” He had trouble holding back all the shaking in his voice; he thought he was going to burst into tears right in front of the two of them. He blinked back what he could, not wanting to add embarrassment to the cocktail of emotions that he was feeling at the moment. There were too many feelings, so many reactions that his body was doing involuntarily. He exhaled loudly over and over, it sounded like laboured breathing through gritted teeth. He balled up his left fist and wiped the spit from his chin.

“F-fuck me de-dead, I thought I was going to piss myself.” He stopped as his outburst faded out, and he relieved that little bit of frustration.

“God, Forrest, I won’t shoot you.” he looked towards Bunny, though he wasn’t shouting anymore he seemed as shaky as he had been. At the very least the rifle was angled further away from Forrest and lowered a bit. His expression towards Bunny was expectant, as though he was silently asking her to do or say something, but he just didn't open his mouth to say what exactly.
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Pippin
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A club and a bright green bandanna. That was all that Forrest had. Aka, he wasn’t a threat, unless he was stupid enough to try and attack somebody holding a rifle. Then, he’d... well, then he’d be even less of a threat, but it wasn’t a scenario Bunny really wanted to consider. There was always the chance that Forrest was hiding something in his bag, but at this stage of the game, with someone who detested SOTF as much as he did, it was unlikely.

Basically, there was no way this situation could get out of hand, right?

Forrest’s appearance hadn’t managed to make Bunny jump, but Cor’s sudden outburst right next to her certainly did. She had only just leaned away from him when he erupted, and her look of mild concern swiftly changed to one of complete shock. For a brief second, there was only one thought running through Bunny’s head; what the hell was that?

As Cor continued to speak, however, Bunny’s face moved from concern to shock and then back to concern again, as she worked out exactly what had caused his outburst. God, he really wasn’t dealing with this well, was he? If she was totally honest, it was starting to get to Bunny as well.

And if she was brutally honest, she didn’t think she’d be able to stay around Cor if he carried on in this way. In a game of life and death, sticking with twitchy, trigger happy people pushed you closer towards the latter.

Bunny realised that Cor’s eyes were on her, as if waiting for her to say something. She looked at him, then at Forrest, trying to gauge his reaction to having just been yelled at. The situation called for calm, and calm called for a leader. If Bunny was being asked to do that job, then she’d willingly step up to the plate.

The audience loved a good leader, after all.

“Alright...” Bunny began, slowly, tentatively, testing the waters. “We’ve had a false start, that’s all. We all just need to, you know... breathe, try and focus, right? Forrest, I know you’re not on our team, but trust me... we won’t harm you, that’s a fact. And Cor...”

Bunny turned to the nervous boy, looking straight through him for a few seconds before speaking.

“Maybe it’d be for the best, um... if you gave me the rifle. Just for the moment, y’know...”
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TwoThirty
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Forrest heard his name shouted by Corin and opened his eyes. The gun wasn't held in his direction anymore.

And then Corin asked so many questions at Forrest, he was not even sure if they were rhetorical or not.

Corin looked exhausted and nervous, when he stated that he wouldn't shoot him. But then Forrest was relieved.

And he was even more relieved when Bunny told Forrest that she wouldn't shoot him either and asked Corin for the rifle.

"Thanks Bunny and Corin. I really thank you."

And he thanked god that he met such friendly people here. And that he lived right now and wasn't shot some seconds ago.

But what did it mean that they wouldn't harm him? Should he stay with them or go away?

"Should. Might I stay with you? Or should I go away?"

He hoped they'd let him to stay with them. He would be safe. They had a gun and could protect him. And he could try to protect them, too. And maybe they could escape.
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Serpico
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Corin eyed Bunny as she spoke, the more he listened to Bunny, the more he began to fidget. His hand shifted behind his neck to rub it, and his mouth opened repeatedly though no words would come out. It was as though he had a lot of commentary but could not force the words out of his mouth. However, when it came to the matter of the rifle his response was quick.

“N-no, I said before that I won’t be shooting him, I was just- I feel better holding it, to be honest, it makes me feel… less helpless.” He paused for a brief moment, as a chilled zephyr passed. It brought only further discomfort and stopped him mid-sentence as a discomforted gasp escaped his lips. His stance shifted into one that looked less aggressive, though not quite relaxed. He was still tense; for he could not help if his hair was standing on end for the cold and feeling of impending doom were still very much present in the air.

He wasn’t sure how to articulate his words, as he had never made use of his aural communication skills in the past. But he was going to try and force it, for his own good he figured.

“Bunny, if you take it away right now I’ll become a burden, I’ll die. I’m pretty sure.” His voice carried a tone of fearful certainty to it, blatant as he had ever been in regards to the fear that laced every bit of speech and action of his so far. He stopped hoisting the rifle against his shoulder, no longer holding it as though ready to shoot and kill. He hoped that this diffused the situation enough that Bunny would not ask again for the rifle. He may explain about the empty breech later, if time were given, though at the moment it seemed a lesser concern.

When it came to Forrest’s turn for Corin’s attention, he appeared still to be apprehensive, but improving visibly from before. If only enough that he did not seem to be spitting at he spoke nor positioning himself as though he were about to assault. He spoke quite quickly, shifting from one conversation to the other, then to his own thoughts.

“You can thank me for not shooting you by not scaring me ever again.” He spoke delicately.

Corin was slow to give him an answer to his question, though ultimately he nodded.

“For a while it should be okay, if Bunny agrees.” He spoke with a soft tone that Forrest might find a little more familiar, as Corin seemed to recall their relationship in the past and calmed so slightly.

“I think right now, we need to find an indoor area. The ground will kill us with cold if we try and sleep outside. But there’ll be more people going for similar places. If we have more people… we’ll be a scarier looking group, right? I’m not sure if that makes any sense. Since we’re not on the same team Forrest can walk up the front or middle of our group?”

He looked as though he was trying to gauge their expressions, though his countenance wasn’t that of a stern leader and lacked the eye contact necessary to appear compelling. He held the one palm that was free of the rifle upward as he spoke, at the very least open but still unsteady. He repeatedly looked up and down at the ground and the others as he spoke.

“And Bunny, if you’re cold I can lend you my sweater for a little.” He half mumbled, as though uncertain about the suggestion.
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