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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 12:52 am
Beaches were good for several things. Tanning, surfing, meeting chicks - but privacy? Shade? Some damn cover? No, beaches were not made for these things.
A7 followed Z8, trudging through the sand and rocks with clunky steps, He felt the solid thunk of A10's medkit slap against his thigh every time he took a step with his left leg, and it was a constant fresh reminder. He made a mental note to put it in his backpack, or else it would drive him mad.
She was several feet in front of him, and he was in no hurry to catch up. When she found an appropriate spot, he knew she'd stop.
He glanced behind him, at the diminishing forms of the group. The bodies remained there on the sand - he'd have to make this quick. They deserved a proper burial.
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 1:23 am
She knew he was following him without having to look back, without the sound of his boots sinking into the sand, dislodging a rock every so often, without the methodical sound of the medkit slapping against his leg. It was a confidence that had no real base, and in all likelihood was just a figment of her own delusion she seemed to be under, whatever that delusion was. None the less, it was only after they had walked a fair distance, that the bodies living and dead disappeared from view, swallowed completely by fog before she stopped, standing there completely motionless, the seconds ticking by. It was as if all brain function had ceased, a flatlined heart monitor waiting for someone to yell 'clear.'
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...
Turning her head slowly to look over her shoulder, Zeta Eight's body followed a few moments after, until she faced Alpha Seven completely. Along the way, she had stuck the mace into her backpack to allow her arms to move free, and now the handle stuck out at a diagonal angle, ready to be pulled at a moment's notice. But they both know it wouldn't be -- at least not on him. There was something else afoot, and even before speaking there was something of an understanding between them, as if they were both... not thinking the same thing (they probably had no idea what they were thinking at all, at this point) but feeling it.
Although they both could feel the presence of the midkit hanging at his side, she did not look at it, instead staring at him.
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 1:39 am
A7's steps quickened slightly when he noticed that Z8 had stopped. He'd taken one step too many, and stumbled back a step when he found the distance between them was barely nonexistent. He rocked back on his heels, looked up at the dreary sky, and sighed.
Waves crashed against the shore rhythmically, four times, before he spoke.
"We're going to have a problem." A7 finally started. "These people.. they're all out for number one. Themselves. You know, I can't blame them, but at the same time, it's just not the way you play a game. Everybody should know that." And he was good at playing games. Damn good. He'd thought that the team up of Alpha and Zeta had been a good move, strategically. He thought they would steamroll the other groups with their massive size. He thought they would have stuck together.
Not even Alpha Squad had been able to manage to stick together, in the end.
A7 reached out, and took Z8's hand. It was a fierce hold, and his mask bent to meet hers in what was trying to be a very serious pose.
"There are very few people I trust with my life right now. I want to make sure the right people make it out of here alive. I've already failed once. Help me to not fail again."
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 2:00 am
Zeta Eight didn't seem bothered by the sudden intrusion of her privacy, neither when he was far too close as she turned around nor when he reached out to take her hand, perhaps to make sure she was real. Whatever the reason, she let him clasp it tightly in his own, her own fingers twitching slightly in the beginnings of a reciprocating action.
"We will make it out alive."
There was a hint of emphasis on the word 'we' as she spoke it, even through the distortion of the gas mask. It was a rather hindering thing, actually -- it made most of their words sound hollow and mechanical, something she was sure the coordinator of this twisted test had counted on, perhaps to make them less human. They certainly didn't look it. And perhaps that was why she had, so far, had no problem with propagating the end of others lives. But this... this was different. This was more personal than she had planned to get, and beneath the rock-hard skin she'd created, she felt.... .... something.
This was bad.
"I'll help you."
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 2:07 am
Underneath that mask, A7 grinned broadly. The one thing he was counting on with Z8 was her level head and strong sense of survival. He knew he didn't have to worry about her - she would make it. He wouldn't have to watch her-
His thoughts halted like a rusted gear and then switched completely. They would watch each others backs, but they weren't alone. A7 did feel like he trusted others, as well. Still, without even thinking about it, he responded to Z8's confidence with a phrase he almost felt fell from his tongue.
"That's my girl."
Without any reaction, he turned and looked down at where he knew the camp was located. He couldn't make anything out, but he knew it was there. "We've got A1 on our side. He's going to lead us out of here. I believe in him. Plus, I think the Doc's really got a thing for protecting you girls. He's weird.. I'm hoping not like, serial killer weird, but I think we should keep him around. A2's harmless, and I'm pretty sure she needs looking after." He turned his mask to the side, looking down at her once more.
"Got anyone on your team that you'd trust?"
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 2:40 am
Just as Alpha Seven had not given them any time to react to his statement, Zeta Eight equally did not respond, following his gaze instead down the beach to where they both knew the others were, or had been before they left. Neither of them lingered on the dead bodies there, although the thoughts of death (A10) likely did not want to leave them alone, trying to haunt them. If Zeta Eight showed any emotion at all, she might have been relieved that he pushed onward so quickly, giving them both something to focus on, but instead she merely stood there politely, listening to him recount his team, giving a short nod after he was finished.
"I'll follow Alpha One. The... Doctor... is also a good asset. As for Alpha Two, if you believe she is harmless, I trust your judgement."
She almost faltered at the word 'trust,' but the Zeta somehow continued onward, ignoring the feeling that that, somehow, she had revealed some unnerving truth.
"As for the Zetas, I reserve judgement. As for those I suggest, there are five whom I would consider candidates: Three, Four, Six, Seven and Twelve." It seemed she would be reading them off, like some sort of inventory list. So much for her breakthrough in the emotional department. Oh well, at least there was progress.
"Zeta Three is a strong ally, very intelligent, but he seems to reserve judgement. His loyalties may be uncertain.
Zeta Four's sanity is questionable, but unless he goes postal, he'll be loyal to our team.
Zeta Six is a medic. I promised to protect him, should he need it -- he's trustworthy, but I'm unsure if he'll join us.
Zeta Seven is headstrong, as you saw, and may be problematic, should he not get along with one of our group, but I think he'd be valuable. He may not follow us either, as he seems to have found his own group."
Taking a break, she glanced out over the foggy ocean for a second, pausing at the last one, calculating.
"I haven't had much interaction with Zeta Twelve, but he has thoughtful ideas. If you consider that an asset, he may follow us as well."
They had their faults, each of them. She knew this -- she did not expect him to consider all, or even consider one. Even Zeta Four, whom she displayed an instinct to keep (mostly) from harm. In fact, he was the most risky of them -- they had all seen his reaction to the flames, no attempt to save himself as he had lay in the sand, smoking and singing of daisies and parties. Of them, he was the most likely to kill them all, followed closely by Zeta Three, the calculating mastermind. Good allies were often the most dangerous.
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 2:47 am
Z8 listed all the characteristics she had collected from her teammates with a awe inspiring methodology. A7 knew.. little to nothing about most of his teammates. Z8 had somehow found basic traits on almost all of them. It was impressive, to say the least.
Still, it didn't quite answer his question.
"They all sound good, on paper. Who doesn't? That's not what I want to know."
His demeanor shifted slightly, imperceptibly. All the humor was gone from his voice. "I trust you. Now I need to know who you trust. If the answer is no one, I'll take it. But if there's even one team member of yours that I'm going to stick my neck out for, it'll only be because you trust them."
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 2:37 pm
Trust was something Z3 always left to question; in fact, that very questioning was what compelled him now, his steps landing with a calculated softness as he navigated the treacherous beach sprawl. Tracking proved difficult, verging in impossible, in the thick and ever present fog, but careful looking could still pick out the weakest of trails where sand sank in boot shaped patterns, or rocks seemed forcibly kicked aside. Surely, she couldn't have escaped far in the mere minutes he'd idled...
And then, very faintly, he heard something. It was only the tone of a voice at first: muffled and twisted cruelly by the thick atmosphere. Instinctively, very cautiously, he grew even more aware of himself and stayed as silent as he could: an attentive statue in the white haze.
"I trust you. Now I need to know who you trust..." That voice. No immediate number came to mind, but Z3 was almost certain of it being the Alpha who'd shown unusual interest in Z8 earlier. "If the answer is no one, I'll take it. But if there's even one team member of yours that I'm going to stick my neck out for, it'll only be because you trust them."
... She was making some kind of pact with the man, and that instantly put him on edge. It was hard to tell at that point just how underhanded Z8 intended this, but Z3 felt his wariness was wholly justified.
Still, there was no move to speak, to make himself known. He wanted to hear her response before any final judgement call.
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 5:15 pm
There wasn't much of a reaction on Zeta Eight's face when Alpha Seven called her on the vagueness of her answer, both of them knowing she had purposely done so. He read her pretty easily, surprisingly, the Zeta 'soldier' chalking it up to astute observation -- something that was severely lacking within both his and her own group, hers especially. Had they not been on such 'friendly' terms, she might have been worried about it, but equally as surprising, the calculating girl seemed completely unbothered by it, as with the serious tone his voice had taken. It was not that she underestimated it, or brushed it off -- it was merely that she was always serious. There was no other way to reply.
"I don't," she remarked with no hesitation, her frank words a little chilling. In this case, one might hope she would have some reservation in answering, and had there been others around, she might have answered more cryptically. But it was Alpha Seven -- he was not a Zeta, and she had proved in jumping into the fray that she trusted him enough to endanger herself. She didn't notice the figure looming just outside the fog, Zeta Three's footsteps having fallen far too quietly for her to hear. As such, she had no idea he was judging her every word, continuing after a pause for breath.
"But there are several I would not want as enemies."
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 5:47 pm
[A1 healed to 30HP]
A short sigh, and then- "All right. Then I think we'd better get to know who we can trust, and quickly. I'm not leaving this camp with a group of people that I can't trust, and right now it's pretty clear there's a few of them that don't deserve it."
He took A10's medkit, and opened it up. It looked pretty scarce, but he managed to use what he could to patch himself up from the fight. In particular, there was a syringe filled with some odd liquid. Being that A7 was just innocent enough to trust that a syringe in a med-kit had medicine in it, he plucked the top off of the syringe and jabbed the tip right through his leg, pressing down on the top to inject himself without so much as a wince. Whatever it was, it sure did make him feel better.
Stuffing the contents of the med-kit back into it's storage container, he then dumped it into his backpack, and slung it around his shoulder. "All right. Tell me when you're ready, and we'll head back. As much as I love beaches, I'm ready to get moving. Hopefully A1's already rallied some people together so we can head out."
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 5:54 pm
... Wise words he could agree with.
It was at that point Z3 decided it pointless to continue the silent act, looking down at his feet for a moment and, after a brief pause of contemplation, taking it upon himself to purposefully kick a stone with his heel. He stepped forward, feet crunching quite audibly, and approached the pair with perfectly natural composure.
"I wondered where you spirited off to, Zeta Eight," he remarked casually, though there was a clear undertone of knowing in his voice. He already knew feigning dumb around her would be ineffective; it was only the other one he couldn't gauge just yet.
On that note--
"And what, if I may, have we been discussing here?" Though his face was ever-veiled by the token gas mask, it was clear he had his eyes pinned firmly, sharply on Alpha Seven. He'd even been calculated enough to appear just when the other male slipped into a state of vulnerability, wrapped up in the effort of injecting himself with some... something... from a stolen medkit. "I hate to be left out of good conversation, you know."
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 7:06 pm
[Z8 healed to 30 -- 1 medkit use remaining]
Zeta Eight didn't reply, her silence easily construed as, if not agreement, which it definitely was, certainly a willingness to concede. In fact, she was having a few thoughts herself about some of the Zetas, a few of whom she knew now considered her an enemy. Not that she blamed them. The sound of the sand crunching beneath heavy boots snapped her attention back to their surroundings, automatically reaching back to jerk her weapon out of her backpack, ready to swing.
'I wondered where you spirited off to, Zeta Eight,'
The familiar voice, however, lead her to pause.
"Three," she greeted him evenly, lowering the weapon but keeping her eyes trained on him. Shifting a bit, she positioned herself between him and Alpha Seven, half her body blocking their direct line of sight, forcing Zeta Three to keep his attention on her.
"We were discussing strategy."
Zeta Eight said no more than that, waiting until Alpha Seven was finished with his medkit before flicking open the pouches at her waist, beginning to do the same. Despite the lack of actual physical combat she'd done, that damn horse had done more than enough damage, leaving her worse for wear than she'd ever let on. The burns had scabbed over again from where she'd cracked them open, sticking her suit uncomfortably to her skin, so every movement reopened the wounds, her dislocated shoulder throbbing angrily. Taking out the bandages, she wrapped a good portion of them around her shoulder, weaving the white fabric a few times around her upper arm before hooking it diagonally over her collarbone, tying it into place. There was nothing she could do about her back, the burns completely hidden by armor and fire-retardant material.
She used the syringe last, lifting the vial to the limited light, letting the haze from the fog shine through it. She clearly did not have the trust Alpha Seven had -- the fact that he had unceremoniously jammed the needle into his thigh, pumping himself full of whatever chemical they had given them had unbeknown to him had left a warning to die in her throat. Still, within a few minutes she too had jabbed the needle into her muscle, directly into the shoulder
The warmth spread almost immediately. Beneath the mask, her eyes slid lazily shut, almost sighing audibly before she caught herself, returning the bandages and antiseptic back to the pouches at her waist.
"If there's something you have to say, Three, do it. I'd rather not leave the others alone too long."
And it was not because she feared for their safety.
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Interesting Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 7:50 pm
If A7 hadn't been jamming a syringe into his body, he probably would have responded to Z3's arrival with a bit more poise and instinct. He may have even lifted his weapon out, and taken up a protective stance around Z8. Sufficed to say, it would have looked badass.
As it was, however, Z3's appearance caught him so off guard in the midst of dosing himself, that A7 discreetly yelled "OH SHI-" And fumbled slightly, before falling back on his a**.
He's a pro.
Z8 confirmed that they weren't being attacked, but A7's heart was still beating wildly in his throat. As he stood up, he stormed over and shook his finger at the man. "Don't you go sneaking up on people you don't want to kill, man! What if we'd rounded on you? I could have killed you!"
No, A7. You were too busy falling on your a**.
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 8:05 pm
"Strategy?" To some it would have been a vague answer, but Z3 already seemed comfortably informed. It was impossible to tell how much he'd truly heard of the conversation, if anything at all, and the male seemed happy keeping it that way. "Fancy that," he replied after a pause, verging for a moment on smug and yet... within a split second all emotion had drained from his voice completely, looking back to A7, in all his wholly unimpressive sprawling.
"I imagine there's little to be said that you haven't already," he noted, a clear reference to the female, yet his eyes remained pinned on that red, vulnerable suit. Whether that gaze implied hostility or harmless intrigue seemed impossible to guess, too.
But he didn't speak to him. No, instead, it seemed he felt compelled to follow suit by cracking open one of his own med kits, promptly fishing out the same suspicious injection to place in his forearm. He made no external signs of relief, just as he'd made no signs of weakness before, but the difference-- inside at least-- was profound. All the scrapes and burns from that dread Death Pony seemed to melt away, leaving his back just a touch straighter as he snapped the kit closed... right in time to find himself staring down the rubber of one (un)threateningly pointed finger.
"... Hmm." The gesture seemed completely ineffective, his tone flat, his stance unbudging in the slightest. He didn't even bother responding to the goad, rather, just seemed to pass it up with a comment of his own. "And who said I was sneaking to begin with? Perhaps I walk quietly by nature. And also, by the way..."
Oh? Seemed he had one last thing to say before they headed off? And why had his tone taken a more serious edge again?
"Keep in mind, Alpha: trust is a fragile, unreliable concept when self-preservation becomes involved. If it's real solidarity you're after, I would think in more... concrete terms... from now on."
((OOC EDIT: used my first medkit of Z3's pair, YEP, back to 30 HP.))
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Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 8:26 pm
[A10 BREAKING AND ENTERING]
Outside of the tent, A10 wandered around. The fog was thicker than she'd remembered, and she hoped she wouldn't run into the enemy. Slightly paranoid, now, she imagined figures leaping out, clubbing her over the head with a mace. Stabbing her multiple times. Or shooting her in the chest.
The girl shuddered, and walked on. Luckily, it didn't take too long for her to find her friends, milling around on the beach as they were. Through the fog she saw A7 and a smaller, slender figure in orange. Z8. It had to be her.
..And another figure in orange, who was being pointed at. What.. was going on? Another fight? She assumed the magical pony was gone; somehow the feeling of dread that, the cold chill running down her spine that came with Death was gone. Approaching the trio, she pulled out her dagger and held it close to her, ready to attack the stranger if need be.
If need be.
She wasn't going to attack someone she had nothing against.
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