So why were we down two players, and they hadn’t suffered a casualty yet? I lay hunkered under a bed in a medieval village, watching the stats, since there wasn’t a TV this time.
It wasn’t nearly as exciting. If I was on the bed, rather than on the dirt below it, I’d probably be asleep.
It was just me and Argo now.
A chime sounded, and I hurriedly checked the scores. One of their men was eliminated. I kind of halfheartedly cheered my teammate on. Hey, if she won, I wouldn’t have to get shot. With a map like this, there were guaranteed to be longbows.
Then again, I felt like getting clubbed by a spiked thing might hurt just as bad. Maybe there were no good ways to die. That thought depressed me. I was going to have to go through this every weekend. Way to ruin my days off.
Two more enemy deaths in quick succession, followed half a minute later by Argo’s. She had put up quite the fight. I decided to get it done and over with, and crawled out from under the bed. The hut was made of thatch and mud and logs and I don’t honestly know what else. Outside, I was surrounded by woods. I debated on climbing a tree, but then realized I’d be shocking incompetent at that, so I ended up just wandering through the woods.
When I happened upon the other contestant, I almost gave myself away. The words “hey, you got me” were on the tip of my tongue, when I realized, that I had, in fact, gotten them. They were completely oblivious to me, and I was sitting pretty with the upper hand, and well, no weapon. That was a downer. I didn’t feel like strangling somebody today. I stepped behind a tree, and considered my options. I could attempt a kill, or I could merely reveal my position and hope the blow was mercifully brief.
If last time was any judge, people weren’t a fan of me and squad #81, so I didn’t trust my opponent. I ripped a piece of bark off the tree and barreled for the person. My leg wasn’t built for running so it was more of an awkward dragging lope. I felt like screaming a war cry, but I also was very conscious that I was wearing spandex and he was wearing spandex and we were being spectated. I just wanted this over.
He somehow didn’t hear me coming. I came closer and closer and then suddenly he whirled to face me. I impaled myself on his blade, and that was that. I stood there, staring at the sword in my abdomen, then glanced over my shoulder and saw that it was, in fact, poking all the way out my back. Whoah, pretty cool. That was some serious coding. Then the pain kicked in and I glanced pleadingly at my killer, “mind removing that thing?”
“Hey, sure.” He said, and pulled it out. It hurt coming out too. “Were you planning on stabbing me with that bark?”
“Not really, but I brought it along in case the opportunity presented itself.” I glanced around. “Which way to the elevator?”
You had me, I though Nate was actually gonna manage to jump this guy. I expected him to lose after the initial attack though. Did not see the elimination coming. That was awesome.
Tacks grumbled and kicked stuff and swore, but this time her anger was focused on herself, so I merely sat back and enjoyed the spectacle.
“Should’ve brickin seen it coming!” She screamed, kicking a bench. “Brickin pathetic! Can’t brickin believe it! We should’ve brickin won that! A team rating of brickin 3! And we lost!”
“You like saying brickin a lot.” I remarked.
“Shut up, you brickin nuiscance.” She growled.
“Hey, I almost killed somebody.” I said, in an attempt to awaken some sort of pride in my progress.
“I saw.” She said, giving me a dead eyed stare. “I’m honestly not sure if you were going for the kill or a hug.”
I frowned at the snub.
“Good work, Argo.” Tacks said, deflecting the attention to the only hero we had. “You played a good game.”
“Thanks.” Argo said, accepting the compliment coolly, and a little uncertainly. I got the feeling she wasn’t used to carrying the team.
“DeadBeat, what happened?”
“Well, after they shot you, I charged.” He shrugged. “And then they shot me too.”
“What a pack of idiots we are.” Tacks cursed on her breath. “This is going to hurt.”
“Sure did.” I felt my abdomen. “I’m still feeling it.”
“I meant our reputation.”
“Oh. I don’t give a darn about that.” I shrugged nonchalantly.
She walked calmly over, and gripped me by the neck, lifting me bodily off the ground, which was no small feat. I sure couldn’t lift myself. “You should, meatsack, you should.”
“Well, maybe I do…just a little.” I wheezed.
She squeezed harder, before letting me drop to the ground. “Them assigning you to us was revenge for being so good.”
“They didn’t consult me about that.” I felt my throat, giving her a venomous look.
“Well, they didn’t consult us about it either.” She turned away to go change, Argo walking with. “This team’s going to squat.”
I glanced at DeadBeat. “Me and you, eh?”
“Whatever.” He said, and headed down the opposite hallway, towards the guy’s locker room. I followed, already composing the rest of the day in my head. The game. I’d play the game. Like, for 12 hours.
Tacks XDD Watch yo profanity. :'P
Well well...had a sudden change of opinion did we Nate ol boy.
Boomer knocked on my shop door like he had any business being here. I stared out at the peek hole, wondering why the bricks he was on my doorstep. Did he want a weapon? I’d made him a perfectly serviceable spear that’s warranty had just expired two weeks ago. “What do you want?”
“A tier 32 knife.”
I glared at him.
“C’mon, man. I was just stopping by.”
“I have stuff to do.”
“Like bricks you do.” He pushed his way inside. “I know you. You’re a week ahead schedule.”
“Only two days. I’m running behind.” I said, still standing at the door.
“No, the whole point is that it’s not actually due…” He gave up mid-explanation. “Close the door, you’re letting in a drift.”
“You’re not in an immersion rig. You can’t feel the temperature.” He hadn’t told me. I had my ways of knowing.
“Just…shut the door.” He said, running out of small talk. He had something to say.
I shut it, locked it, and turned back to him. “What’s up?”
“There’s change brewing.” He said.
“And I’m sure it’ll make a nice (root) beer.” I said. “This in no way involves me.”
“I’m not so sure we’ll be able to keep our necks out of it this time.” Boomer shook his finger.
“I know you won’t.” I said. “But I am a different matter.” He had a reputation of jumping on brand-new bandwagons, which petered out quickly, leaving him stranded yet again in our town with crushed hopes and too much time on his hands.
“You’re human too.”
“I’m actually Karcan.” I said. “Their skin tone was just right.”
Boomer eyed the shop, eyes taking in the weapons. “There’s a new guy.”
“There always is.” I said. “A new user logs on ever three seconds, statistically.”
“I met him.” Boomer said. “He’s out to change the way this game operates.”
“He’s a hacker?” I raised an incredulous, disapproving eyebrow.
Urrrrgh No one will ever understand the pain I've gone through coming across hackers 23/7 in online games. (edit: this memeboard format is hard I missed the boarder between quoted post and where to actually type )
I'm sorry but did you out a sombrero on Oscar? That strikes me as funny for some reason. XD
Part dump. Anyways, that's end of the chapter, I've already got like the next to written, and I don't have motivation to write moar until I get kind of caught up here, so I gotta start posting more parts. Let me know if this was too much.
Moar YAY! : D Oh..well more posting is always good. :} Ahahahahhahahahahahahah XD :')
Tacks grumbled and kicked stuff and swore, but this time her anger was focused on herself, so I merely sat back and enjoyed the spectacle.
“Should’ve brickin seen it coming!” She screamed, kicking a bench. “Brickin pathetic! Can’t brickin believe it! We should’ve brickin won that! A team rating of brickin 3! And we lost!”
“You like saying brickin a lot.” I remarked.
“Shut up, you brickin nuiscance.” She growled.
~<>~
I glanced at DeadBeat. “Me and you, eh?”
“Whatever.” He said, and headed down the opposite hallway, towards the guy’s locker room. I followed, already composing the rest of the day in my head. The game. I’d play the game. Like, for 12 hours.
I'm sorry but did you out a sombrero on Oscar? That strikes me as funny for some reason. XD
I did indeed. Oscar's look is now complete. Yeah, it's pretty funny but also fashionable.
So, I hear you've watched RWBY. Howzit?
Lol. I must say that the choice of sobrero goes well with the character.
Indeedy I haz. It was excellent. At first I wasn't impressed but by the end of the first episode I was warming up to it. Really enjoyed it over all. Are you enjoying it?
Part dump. Anyways, that's end of the chapter, I've already got like the next to written, and I don't have motivation to write moar until I get kind of caught up here, so I gotta start posting more parts. Let me know if this was too much.
So why were we down two players, and they hadn’t suffered a casualty yet? I lay hunkered under a bed in a medieval village, watching the stats, since there wasn’t a TV this time.
It wasn’t nearly as exciting. If I was on the bed, rather than on the dirt below it, I’d probably be asleep.
It was just me and Argo now.
A chime sounded, and I hurriedly checked the scores. One of their men was eliminated. I kind of halfheartedly cheered my teammate on. Hey, if she won, I wouldn’t have to get shot. With a map like this, there were guaranteed to be longbows.
Then again, I felt like getting clubbed by a spiked thing might hurt just as bad. Maybe there were no good ways to die. That thought depressed me. I was going to have to go through this every weekend. Way to ruin my days off.
Two more enemy deaths in quick succession, followed half a minute later by Argo’s. She had put up quite the fight. I decided to get it done and over with, and crawled out from under the bed. The hut was made of thatch and mud and logs and I don’t honestly know what else. Outside, I was surrounded by woods. I debated on climbing a tree, but then realized I’d be shocking incompetent at that, so I ended up just wandering through the woods.
When I happened upon the other contestant, I almost gave myself away. The words “hey, you got me” were on the tip of my tongue, when I realized, that I had, in fact, gotten them. They were completely oblivious to me, and I was sitting pretty with the upper hand, and well, no weapon. That was a downer. I didn’t feel like strangling somebody today. I stepped behind a tree, and considered my options. I could attempt a kill, or I could merely reveal my position and hope the blow was mercifully brief.
If last time was any judge, people weren’t a fan of me and squad #81, so I didn’t trust my opponent. I ripped a piece of bark off the tree and barreled for the person. My leg wasn’t built for running so it was more of an awkward dragging lope. I felt like screaming a war cry, but I also was very conscious that I was wearing spandex and he was wearing spandex and we were being spectated. I just wanted this over.
He somehow didn’t hear me coming. I came closer and closer and then suddenly he whirled to face me. I impaled myself on his blade, and that was that. I stood there, staring at the sword in my abdomen, then glanced over my shoulder and saw that it was, in fact, poking all the way out my back. Whoah, pretty cool. That was some serious coding. Then the pain kicked in and I glanced pleadingly at my killer, “mind removing that thing?”
“Hey, sure.” He said, and pulled it out. It hurt coming out too. “Were you planning on stabbing me with that bark?”
“Not really, but I brought it along in case the opportunity presented itself.” I glanced around. “Which way to the elevator?”
Cool map! Well that seemed like a good plan but apparently not.
It's gonna be a challenge to make each match unique.
Lol, if it was that easy, everybody would be good.
Tacks grumbled and kicked stuff and swore, but this time her anger was focused on herself, so I merely sat back and enjoyed the spectacle.
“Should’ve brickin seen it coming!” She screamed, kicking a bench. “Brickin pathetic! Can’t brickin believe it! We should’ve brickin won that! A team rating of brickin 3! And we lost!”
“You like saying brickin a lot.” I remarked.
“Shut up, you brickin nuiscance.” She growled.
“Hey, I almost killed somebody.” I said, in an attempt to awaken some sort of pride in my progress.
“I saw.” She said, giving me a dead eyed stare. “I’m honestly not sure if you were going for the kill or a hug.”
I frowned at the snub.
“Good work, Argo.” Tacks said, deflecting the attention to the only hero we had. “You played a good game.”
“Thanks.” Argo said, accepting the compliment coolly, and a little uncertainly. I got the feeling she wasn’t used to carrying the team.
“DeadBeat, what happened?”
“Well, after they shot you, I charged.” He shrugged. “And then they shot me too.”
“What a pack of idiots we are.” Tacks cursed on her breath. “This is going to hurt.”
“Sure did.” I felt my abdomen. “I’m still feeling it.”
“I meant our reputation.”
“Oh. I don’t give a darn about that.” I shrugged nonchalantly.
She walked calmly over, and gripped me by the neck, lifting me bodily off the ground, which was no small feat. I sure couldn’t lift myself. “You should, meatsack, you should.”
“Well, maybe I do…just a little.” I wheezed.
She squeezed harder, before letting me drop to the ground. “Them assigning you to us was revenge for being so good.”
“They didn’t consult me about that.” I felt my throat, giving her a venomous look.
“Well, they didn’t consult us about it either.” She turned away to go change, Argo walking with. “This team’s going to squat.”
I glanced at DeadBeat. “Me and you, eh?”
“Whatever.” He said, and headed down the opposite hallway, towards the guy’s locker room. I followed, already composing the rest of the day in my head. The game. I’d play the game. Like, for 12 hours.
![[derp]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/YqNTPqyQUocVMYXZgUAI.png)
