Chapter Text
No matter how long they spend here, they still end up thrown off for one reason or another.
The soldier jolted up from sleep like he’d been electrocuted. His hair was tossled on the side, but he paid no attention to that, focused solely on the white beam of light that shot through the roof of the lobby's main cabin.
What was the Spectre doing now!?
Guest1337 would groan, but he had no time for that. He slipped out of bed, grabbing the nearest thing that could be turned into a weapon- The chair from the table in his sleeping cabin. He lifted it holding one leg from the right-front and the other from the left-back, though with his strength, he could probably sustain it with one hand. He twisted his doorknob, pushing it open with the rest of his body. He heard the distinct crunching of grass beneath feet from a cabin a few meters away from his own.
Guest gave Elliot a wave when he saw him approach, but before the worker could say anything, Guest made a shushing motion at him.
“Stay quiet, we don’t know what that light was.” The veteran’s voice was a whisper, like whatever threats lay in the cabin could hear him all the way out here, and so he kept his gaze on the cabin door for that exact reason. “Could be another survivor, but something in me doubts it.”
“Uh-huh, and you finally cracked and got a weapon like the other sentinels too?”
Guest swears the way Elliot blinked at him when he whipped his head back around to glare at him was because he heard the crack of the soldier’s stiff neck as loud and clearly as Guest himself did.
“I wouldn’t choose a chair.”
“If it’s the only thing available…”
He rolled his eyes, using said eyes to motion for Elliot to follow him while tiptoeing up the entrance’s stairs. “Incase I need backup.” Guest reached out to twist the doorknob slowly. He strained his trained ears to listen in and heard faint talking from the other side. So multiple people. One voice near the door, the other slightly farther away, both most likely men. Guest didn’t see the way Elliot’s brows furrowed upon hearing the deeper, more gruff voice. He waited for a moment, waiting until someone was mid-sentence was the best way to catch people off-guard.
He used his body once again to shove the door open, the doorknob slamming against the wooden logs of the wall with a loud bang. “Who’s there!?” He kept his voice stern and unwavering, showing weakness was an easy way to be overpowered, especially if there were multiple people. Look like you were strong, and you had nothing to fear. Probably.
There were more than the soldier thought. Two women, one with purple hair and those weird party-ish glasses stood on one end of the couch, and another with white hair and the same red uniform Elliot wore stood right infront of the door along side a middle-aged man with a hardhat, similar to Builderman, but if the admin wore a suit and had a big mustache. Another paler person stood by the stairs, black hair longer than Elliot’s, reaching what looks to be their lower back. They stood out in their own way, their dark blue robes formal and looking like something you’d find a priest wearing. Some guy who didn’t stand out much was standing in front of the couch, he looked just as confused as just about everyone else, a red beanie was sat crooked on his head with a black duck on top of it for some reason? Guest could see what looked like a cat on his shirt, but his speedy analysis of everyone in the room was cut off by the lady with white hair speaking.
“Elliot!?”
When Guest looked, her eyes were as wide as they could get. Before he knew it, the not-Builderman rushed past him in a blur before nearly tackling the team's healer to the ground from how fast he threw himself at the poor guy. Then followed by the white haired girl. Damn, Guest didn’t think the tackling would happen for another few hours til a round started.
“Elliot!” The man with the mustache cried, probably into Elliot’s ear, as he hugged the blonde close. Guest still held the chair, but he found himself lowering it slightly as he watched Elliot's expression morph between at least eight different emotions before his eyes began blurring with tears.
“Dad..?”
And now Guest’s eyes were widening. He had to restabilise the grip on his chair to make sure he wouldn't drop it and disturb this apparent reunion with a chair crashing to the floor, his arms wrapping around the backrest as the legs slipped from his fingers. “Mia!” Neither Elliot nor his family seemed to notice the soldier awkwardly setting the chair down slowly, too focused on hugging the air out of each other's lungs.
For a moment, the soldier stood there, smiling slightly at the heart-warming reunion. Guest could see where Elliot got his sensitivity from.
The man finally let go, tears streaming down his aged face and ruining the perfect curls at the edge of the man's mustache, making them droop. “This isn't real… You're here, you're okay-”
“Where have you been!?” Elliot mentioned the girl's name before, even showed Guest the picture he found in the ruins of the map of his pizzeria. He believed her name was Mia? Not as quiet as the younger man described her, but as far as she's concerned, her dead brother was stood infront of her, she's excused for being a bit louder than expected.
“Here..? I guess? God, what do you expect me to say to that!?” Elliot hugged his sister he still held tighter, staining her uniform with his tears, a smile etched on his face. “And- you actually got a job!!”
“Of course I did! You seriously thought I wouldn't!?” She hugged back just as tight.
“No, it's just…” With a sniffling, wavering voice, Elliot pulled back to look at her fully. “I never thought you'd even be able to leave the house by yourself…”
Man, he misses Matt.
Guest did smile at the wholesome sight, the way they immediately went to banter was proof they were close as siblings, but he (and probably everyone else, based on how they turned away or just looked like they didn't know what to do with themselves) began to feel a bit awkward invading such a clearly private and emotional moment between this family.
He let the family have their reunion at the doorway, making an awkward motion towards the restaurant-like dining room to the rest of the people. His eyes scanned over everyone though, searching for something. Someone. Some people. Brown hair, either held by a black headband like it usually was, or gel-ed up into a spike, or maybe even being set ontop of a head that only reached his gut or- God, how tall would she be now? It's been years, and clearly Elliot's sister had grown from how she was in the picture Elliot showed him. What if Charlie was as tall as Guest’s chest by now? How would her face look, losing all that baby fat and cute cheeks most kids naturally had?
He brought his attention back to the three stood infront of him, the purple haired woman and long haired priest looked around curiously, trying to read the writings on the chalkboard from afar while the man with the beanie stood awkwardly between them.
“So…” Guest finally spoke. “If those two know Elliot,” He motioned to the entrance where the three were speaking. “Then do you all perhaps know someone from here as well?”
The woman pushed her party glasses up, not that she needed to. (Infact, didn't those obscure her vision and just make it hard to see? Guest's never actually tried those sorts of glasses on before, seems inconvenient.) “That… Depends.” She crossed her arms in front of her purple hoodie, her eyes weren't visible, but the way she furrowed her brows in thought was. “I dunno if… The person I'm thinking of is here.” She paused awkwardly, as if not wanting to speak whoever’s name that was too soon.
Guest shifted his gaze to the other two expectantly. The priest stepped forward slightly, not to get closer from what he was guessing, and frankly Guest didn't want to get too close to the guy he’s only just met, so he stepped back.
The priest gave him a look, but decided not to mention whatever made their eye twitch like that as they began to speak. “I was informed there was a small chance.” His voice was like a hum, quiet but not inaudible. “However I cannot be certain. The Spawn wasn't up front,” They clasped their hands together with a small smile, the necklace with a very familiar symbol hanging off their neck swaying from the movement. “It rarely is, but It entrusted I'd understand It's intention.” Guest would call the way they beamed swooning if the guy wasn't doing it for a godly being. Or a being that didn't exist, if he was to be harsh.
Guest doesn't point out the way the beanie guy and purple girl took a stepin the direction opposite of the priest.
“Yea, I think you know someone…” His eyes stuck to the sun-like symbol hanging from the priest’s neck, having seen the thing carved into several corners and hiding spots in the dark by a certain someone several times over during rounds or seen that symbol everyday printed on their shirt.
“If I may ask-” The priests words were soon to fall on deaf ears as Guest looked towards the living room upon hearing someone shout something.
“Who may that be? I have quite the number of connections, though names dont exactly remain in my memory for too long-”
The purple woman let out a yell that cut the priest off when she was tackled while her back was turned. Guest will admit, she had good core and leg strength, being able to stay up right in the face of Shedletsky throwing himself at her at full force. The woman whipped around, only catching sight of brown curls before her defensive expression dropped in a heartbeat and she turned to hug the man back just as tightly, her face pressing into Shedletsky’s shoulder. “You're actually…” The woman's quiet voice trailed off before pulling her face out of his shoulder. “Have you seriously been here this whole- What even happened!?”
Shedletsky seemed too focused darting his eyes over every detail of the woman's face to hear what she said at first. He almost lifted his hand to move her glasses, to properly see those eyes he'd berated himself for beginning to forget, before he realises she had spoken. “It's… Uh… God, I should get Matt to help explain-”
“Matt's here too!?”
Guest knows that's probably Dussekar's first name, calling him that was a privilege only Shedletsky (And whoever this girl was to Shedletsky) had. But he still perked up a little, not as much as he used to, but he still found himself expecting to see the guy with spiked brown hair somewhere in his peripheral. But especially now, his body felt tense, his eyes alert, looking for another brunette. The chances were higher for them to be here if all these people were. He didn't know if that was a good thing.
It was only a good thing if he was selfish. He was hoping he'd see them here? For what? To accompany him in this hell? He wouldn't wish this fate upon his worst enemy, to die over and over thanks to the hands of a being who fed off their agony. Of course he'd never dream of damning his loved ones to this hell!
The two unknown robloxians just stood there, even more awkward now that the purple lady was swooped away by Shedletsky who appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
“Let’s leave em to it too, you two…”
He’s been awake for hours. Must have been about one and a half since he heard something akin to an explosion accompanied by opera singers out in the main cabin. He did nothing when peering through his window from where he lay in bed, watching the distinct naturally blue haired soldier carry a chair into the main cabin with Elliot trailing behind him like the wooden furniture could fight off a dragon. Then he saw it just faintly.
Two people, vaguely familiar, wrapped Elliot in a hug. 007n7 couldn’t make them out very well at first, having to reach for his pink glasses by the nightstand to make out the faces better, and while the girl didn't ring any bells still, aside from the uniform she wore matching Elliot's, 007n7 could very much recognise the man in the suit. Mr.Builder. As if there weren’t enough people here who personally hated his guts.
I mean, sure it got… Sorta better, but it was still bad.
And so he’s been staring at the lightbulb above him ever since. He couldn’t hear much aside from other survivors waking up, walking in, and dissapearing into conversation he couldn’t pick up from how far his cabin was. The light burned a dark blue blur into his vision, it was almost starting to hurt. The background noise of barely audible chatter being cut through by footsteps on grass made him blink, his vision going black for a moment thanks to the ball burned into his retinas. Two sets. One heavy, like boots, probably either Builderman or Guest. 007n7 could rule out Builderman for the most part. Even if the admins agreed to “protect” all of them, begrudgingly including 7n7, everyone still kept their distance even after all this time, or as much as they could. There was only so many passing conversations you could have before you start getting a little closer to whoever it is, whether you want to or not.
007n7 finally sat up, dangling one leg off the bed. Three quick knocks, a decent amount of force but not to the point of being aggressive. Guest.
He let his feet meet the cold wooden flooring, he didn't open the door immediately when he reached it, pressing an ear to it before anything else.
“Seven?” The soldier called out from the other side. “Rise and shine, everyone else is already up.” 7n7 always did wake up later than everyone else, a habit he was able to stop for about a decade before falling right back into it the moment he didn't need to make breakfast for a kid who takes too long to get out of bed at five in the morning.
“And there's someone here who wants to see you.”
Dear God, Mr.Builder wanted to give him an earful already?
Nope, not opening the door. Absolutely not. He was atleast hoping they'd see eachother in the middle of a round. Call him a coward, but he was almost hoping that the looming threat of a killer would be enough to evade the big boss’ wrath for just a little bit longer in their attempts at survival.
Three more knocks, just that smallest bit firmer in case 7n7 was just that deep in sleep.
He couldn't help but slump against the door a little, sighing quietly. Maybe it'd be better to get this over with quickly so he wouldn't have to worry about avoiding both the next killer and Mr.Builder. It was better to deal with a stink eye and passive aggression than moving through shadows twice as hard as he already does.
The lock on the door flicks, 7n7 pulls it open to reveal Guest. “Who is it..?” His voice was still groggy and rough, making it just that much more successful to convince the soldier and Mr.Builder he had just woken up.
The blue haired man stepped to the side of 7n7's door. Instead of a balding middle aged man with more hair in his mustache than his scalp and probably what would be anger in those eyes his used to roll at, he saw someone less ancient but just a bit younger than him instead. His black hair stayed relatively the same, if anything it seemed a bit calmer compared to back when they were teens. Yellow pants were practically his trademark and the slacks he wore now were no different. If his sheer presence wasn't what shocked 7n7 so greatly, it would've been the fact the man before him wore a shirt with a fluffy calico hissing, like it wasn't only the ex-hacker's fashion tastes that have scarcely changed these last few years.
He blinked at who stood at the door. He didn’t register the conflicted look on 007e7’s face, the way his mouth pressed into a line like he too was bracing himself, how his eyes widened a little at the sight of his supposed deceased relative, even if he was warned to expect it.
“... N.” He thought he wouldn’t hear this voice again. At least not for however many years until The Spectre’s boredom would reach a boiling point. Maybe it would’ve released them all if it did, if it was merciful like that. For several reasons, this felt like a blessing and curse. For being able to talk with someone he once knew, who hopefully didn’t hate his guts as much as everyone else, but for so many implications of worse things. For the others anyways. There weren't many people 007n7 was worried about getting stuck here with unless they were people who would have personal vendettas against him. He was selfish like that.
7n7 blinked again. His hand ached to try and poke 7e7, to ensure this was real. But he saw Guest, knew Guest was seeing the same, this wasn’t just another episode, this was too vivid to be one anyways, the man who stood in front of him was too aged rather than ripped from the last memory of him. The soldier leaned against a wooden support pillar, his arms crossed as he watched the two’s awkward staring contest.
“Guest, where did he…”
“We don't know either.” He sighed, slumping against the wall of logs a little. “There’s a bunch of em in the cabin. I was able to talk to them-” He looks to the side suddenly. “Most of them. Briefly.” It was such a small thing to look sheepish about, but here he was, suddenly finding the eternally darkened sky littered with stars they’ve seen a million times to be sooo interesting. “Wasn’t able to much. They got busy reconnecting with loved ones and all.”
Guest passed a glance to 7e7, who looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry, yell, or do something else entirely, or like when you think you’re dreaming and focusing so hard on trying to wake up. “Your cousin here must’ve felt lonely watching them all.”
Neither 7n7 nor 7e7 reacted to the lighthearted smile Guest awkwardly wore. The soldier was merely aware but unable to place the cause of the tension in the air, that alone made his throat suddenly itch with this totally unignorable, insatiable urge to clear it.
The first sign of movement and actual life in the two was when 7n7 backed away just a bit from 7e7’s hand reaching for his wrist. “Why did you-...” The conflicted look on 7e7’s face only seemed to grow and he stepped back as well, his words failing him. And God, did 7n7 hoped they would continue to fail him.
7n7 turned to Guest. How was he supposed to even navigate this? A warning could've been nice, let him prepare at least something to say! “Is breakfast ready yet, Guest?” He kept his voice as steady as he could, treating the man in front of him like a hallucination.
Guest seemed more flabbergasted than 7e7, his eyes darting between the two like he thought he was somehow the only one who could see him. The tension told Guest to keep his questions to himself when 7n7 couldn't say to himself.
“Uhm… No, but we can make something quick before the round.” He passes one more look over the two's unreadable faces before turning around and leading the two to the cabin. 7n7 resigned himself to walk a bit behind, like always.
A total of twelve words were spoken. Thirteen if you count the singular letter N as a word. Most of them didn’t even cover the absolute mammoth in the room that was, you know, relative from outside now here in this hell? He knew 007n7 didn't speak much, especially when not approached, that was one of the most obvious things he's learnt from being stuck here with everyone. But God, that was so abrupt it was painful.
Guest took a silent breath as he led the two back to the cabin, the tension almost made it hard to do so with how it seemed to turn the air so heavy it was heavier than the constant threat of death, and they all died daily. 007n7 wasn’t an expressive type, he’s only ever consistently shown awkwardness and fear, sometimes remorse for his past or guilt, so maybe Guest shouldn’t have been expecting something.. Bigger. Maybe he shouldn’t have been expecting anything as emotional as what Elliot and his family had or the instant “Explain everything to me now” thing Shedletsky and (his fellow admin wife, now that Guest knows) Brighteyes had.
Walking back towards the cabin with the other two trailing behind him, he saw two cultists talking just at the door. Two Time’s footsteps were quiet, and maybe it was just because Guest was too far away, but he swears they appeared out of nowhere. All they needed was their wings and he would believe they just came out of their respawn point.
“I am more than willing to guide you in this realm, if only temporary, Teacher.”
“Temporary?” Guest walked up the steps, earning a kind wave from Two Time. Their teacher’s relaxed and soft expressing gave way to the weird looks he’s been giving him since earlier, and now it was back. Though, he supposes he did join their conversation unprompted.
Said teacher cleared his throat. “Indeed.” He nodded. “The Spawn informed me our visits were only for a few days. It should grant our freedom soon after.” Translating that from delusion-speak (Dussekar’s words, not Guest’s), the Spectre said that everyone would only be here a few days.
Guest only nodded along. Good, that at least meant these guys weren’t stuck too. “I see,” Maybe if everyone joins hands with them as they disappear back to where they were, they could hitch an escape with them. Guest could probably tag along with the admins, sure it was probably a bit awkward, but in any case he could probably ask for a favor after all the trauma-bonding everyone went through, just money for a flight back to his home, to his family. It’d be like he wished it ended back then, flying back with a mind heavy with guilt and terror from the lives he was forced to take but home to open arms and excited smiles. Every soldier’s dream.
Don’t be selfish. Focus on helping them.
“Good. In the meantime, like Two Time said, we can help you all out while you’re here-”
“YOU’RE HERE!?”
Andddd upon hearing a scream like that, you expect no one to halt their conversations? Guest leaned over to the doorway curiously, 007n7 and 007e7 had walked in ahead of him while he talked to Two Time and their teacher. Those two joined him. He saw Elliot’s father, who was sitting on one end of the couch with Elliot between him and his sister on the other end. Mr.Builder’s face was every definition of disbelief and reignited anger, brows furrowed, eyes wide, even the way he seemed to have whipped around the couch to face 007n7 screamed accusation and grudges. God, just a bit more anger and that comical mustache of his would probably bristle.
“Hey…” 007n7’s voice was an awkward drawl as he rubbed the back of his neck. “None of us are exactly happy about being here, really…” Guest has seen that look countless times, especially from 007n7. Especially in the first year they all were here. The look of someone who wanted to sink into the ground and vanish.
“Don’t get smart with me, hacker.” The word hacker was spat like a slur, Guest almost flinched when it wasn’t even directed at him this time nor an actual slur. “With the damage you and your kid have done you are the last person who’s allowed to get smart with me-!”
“And I paid for all of it already, as much as I could.” If you look closely enough, you could see the way 007n7’s hands twitched and tensed with the urge to apologetically clasp together. It felt like Guest was watching a soap opera where the maid apologised profusely for clumsily breaking a vase. Except this maid was a terrorist. And the vase was thrown on the floor on purpose, repeatedly. Then broken further by the maid’s cat, if what Elliot told Guest about 007n7’s past with him was true. “No offense, this isn’t exactly a good place or time to argue about this…”
With one dart of Mr.Builder’s eyes around the room, seeing the dozens of pairs on him, Mr.Builder sighed quietly and shamefully slumped back on the couch a little. “I… Suppose you’re right. Apologies for my outburst…” It was said vaguely through gritted teeth almost, if you listened hard enough.
007n7 nodded once, 007e7 stood a bit behind him. Two Time came up and tapped Guest’s shoulder, whispered something, and Guest gave a firm nod at their request.
“Survivors! Brief discussion in the diner!” His voice demanded everyone’s attention. A familiar tone, whenever Guest came up with a new strategy out of the blue or something to be discussed, one of the typically ten voices would call out for everyone to flock to the dining table.
“Survivors?” His keen ears picked up on Brighteyes’ voice echoing the word to Shedletsky.
“It’s what we call ourselves.” John Creative Director Shedletsky’s voice held a smug, proud tone over a very obvious, unimaginative title that was so uninnovative everyone knew they’d call themselves that despite it never being agreed upon aloud.
“Ah, I see.”
The three admins walked down the stairs, Elliot stretched from the couch, then 007n7, Two Time and Guest followed suit.
Chance, Veeronica, Noob, and Taph were already setting up breakfast. Eggs. They were easy, everyone knew how to do them, and it was one of the many “rewards” the Spectre was forced to give them all thanks to their consistent and repetitive winnings as of late. Not only has no one died, but they even got ham that they were now desperately trying to make last? Everything’s been great recently!
(And everyone’s basic gratitude has increased tenfold after being trapped here so long too. Was this what the creepy puppet talked about in that one movie Molly insisted they watch?)
There were eight plates already placed at two booths since everyone preferred those, even when the cushions were sinking in from use. Four at each table. Noob was cooking up the next batch of eggs, plating them while Taph and Vee placed them around for the five visitors they now had. Two Time leaned over the long table infront of the chalkboard once everyone’s eyes were on them, like a CEO at a board meeting.
“I simply wish to inform you all that I may not be as active in the next rounds.” Two Time spoke regretfully, though their smile was present as ever. “I wish to focus on protecting Amarah, my teacher.” They put their hands together over their chest. “I will try my best, I will not leave you all completely, obviously, but I will stick with Amarah for most of the round, and the chances of me running in to save one of you are just the smallest bit lower for the time being.”
“Same here.” Elliot placed a hand on the long table as well. “I’m probably not gonna run head first towards you guys if ever the killer is too close by or we don’t know where they are.” Since when was it agreed upon that placing your hand on the long table gave you speaking permission? Don't know, but it was working well enough when everyone seemed to be nodding, a tad more unsure as they listened to the healer speak. “I won’t stop completely either! That’s stupid, duh.” His smile turned placating seeing how everyone seemed to deflate at the idea he won’t be there to be their saving grace. “I just don’t wanna run off from them too often or for too long. I still will, just not as much as I usually do, guys…” He could probably balance keeping his team safe with also making sure that everyone in his family stayed til the end- God forbid there's only one of them.
Just beside one of the booths, the three admins stood side by side as everyone spoke.
“And I assume you will accompany Brighteyes?” The floating pumpkin tilted his head as Two Time leaned on the table with their announcement. If Two Time was really protecting their teacher, it was one less for Dussekar to worry about.
“She’s plenty capable of protecting herself, Matt.” Shedletsky had his arms folded behind his head as he leaned against the booth’s chair.
“With a sword? Yea,” Builderman poured a mug of coffee for himself as he spoke (Who knows how he stirred it up so fast). “I’ve never seen ‘er fight with ‘er fists much though, ‘least not recently.”
And so Shedletsky blinked and waited a few seconds once everyone’s murmurs of uncertain agreement over Elliot’s own additional announcement died down.
“I’ll try my best too, no promises!” He called out in a hasty addition.
“Real smooth, Shed.” Followed by a long sip of coffee. That’s two sentinels and one support down from the list of “run to and rely on immediately if dying”. Today might be a long day.
The hard-hat wearing admin couldn’t help but notice how people began turning to the ex-hacker while he helped Noob plate the last egg they needed to cover everyone who actually needed to eat. It took maybe three seconds and a nudge from Noob for 007n7 to finally look up and quickly run through everything he was listening in on from everyone just moments ago to remember why they were all staring at him expectantly.
“I don’t even do anything, what’s gonna change?” His tone held disbelief as he lazily waved the spatula, and Builderman swears he saw Guest about to protest, but keeps his mouth shut.
“SO TH4tT’S THR33 0F US WH0 AR3 G0NN4 FOCUS 0N PR0TECT1NG 0THERS…” Veeronica has been sitting in the booth the admins were standing by the whole time, doodling on a notepad while Taph was digging in and Chance spun his coin on the table. The gambler sudddenly perks up and snaps his fingers, and yes, Builderman almost tried to glance at the not-yet-there survivor list to see what he landed for HP.
“I got it!” Chance stood up and shimmied out of the booth, his coin slipping from his fingers and smoothly into his pocket like second nature. “I can drag the killers away from you all, like a distraction.” He pushed his shades up like offering himself up as death-fodder wasn’t stupid. Now, naturally-
“Atta Chance!”
“NO YOU ARE NOT!”
Elliot and Shedletsky’s voices overlapped, though Elliot’s boomed and overpowered the admin’s just a bit. “You are NOT gonna run into the killers’ arms like this-!”
“I’m not gonna let them kill me,” Chance was quickly beside Elliot and resting their arm on his shoulder like their height difference was actually bigger than it really was. “I’m gonna lead em away, you know, killer-bait!” As if that made the situation better.
“It is not wise to walk into death like this…” Dussekar was pinching where the bridge of his nose would be. “It adds to the timer, scars already traumatised minds and bodies-”
“It wouldn’t if I didn’t die…” Chance leaned more against Elliot, who looked more and more unsure the longer this went on. “Y’know, if I had some sort of thing to protect me… A shield perhaps?” Dussekar hoped only the admins heard his groan.
“My shields do not meet the potential I would prefer they did…”
The soldier took a step forward when confidence continued to waver. “Then I can protect him.” It was almost something out of a movie, albeit a corny one. “Chance steals the killer’s initial attention, and I can even get them more aggro and lead them opposite of where everyone’s families are.” Maybe it was simple bias, but Guest’s proposition almost sounds more dependable than the gambler’s.
“1’LL H3LP TOO!!1!” Vee practically flew up from her seat with her arm raised like she was trying to get picked for a sport’s team. “1 C4N H3LP GUEST NUDG3 4LL TH3 K1LLERZ FURTH3R FR0M EV3RY0NE.”
“So just drag them away…” Builderman heard Noob’s meek voice mutter to themself before they nod with determination of their own. “I can manage that…”
As everyone who didnt really have anyone to protect began chiming in with different things they could do and forming strategies, Builderman listened. Dussekar and Shed were giving their own ideas, something about using Dussek as bait too, which they did not take kindly to considering there was a very distinct sound of the Staff of Winds hitting the back of Shed’s head. For once, Builderman didn’t have anything to add. He knew his role wouldn’t change much, maybe just build a nest or two with Taph for the “visitors”, but if there was seriously gonna be this less many people to rely on…
He brought his mug to his mouth again, the over-sweetened flavor hitting his tongue with almost 60% creamer and 40% actual coffee. If everyone can get the generators done as quickly as possible, if the visitors huddled in a good corner the killers rarely ran to for the nest, then maybe there would be less to worry about, right?
The head admin finally had something to add to the plan! He demanded everyone’s attention, and when they all turned to him expectantly, he just knew this had to work. Of course it would!
Sitting in a corner, he was beside the little cat near the cabinets. Why was there a cat here? Who knows. He totally, definitely didn’t mean to listen in, he really didn’t…
“Survivors?” The girl with white hair muttered when said “survivors” left for the diner. Mr.Builder shook his head, leaning against the couch cushion and folding his hands in his lap.
“I know as much about it as you do.” The man sighed, the wind ruffling his weirdly perfect ‘stache just a little.
Well then, they know less than everyone else did. The soldier, Guest1337 or just Guest, was kind enough to explain it to 7e7 and Amarah when that purple admin ran off with the others while those two were too busy catching up with the delivery guy. Granted, yes he cut the explanation off mid-way when Guest mentioned the other survivors, his cousin’s name piercing through the disorientation and confusion of waking up here so suddenly.
“7n7’s here?”
“Yea,” The soldier nodded. “You know him? Uh…’ With a blink, he wiped his eyes. “I completely forgot- I’m sorry, what were your names again?”
God, it was embarrassing having to explain the matching usernames sometimes…
The longer the conversation went on, the more commotion 7e7 could hear from the kitchen- or cafe? Was this place a cabin in a different realm of torture or a hotel?
“Everyone, listen up!”
The head admin’s voice wasn’t exactly booming in the scary way, just very… Unignorable. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others looking towards the entrance of the dining area upon hearing it too. You’d think walking off to a different room like this means you’d want some privacy with whoever you were talking with, but it seems rather pointless with their volume.
“Round’s starting soon, bub.”
He almost screamed, but instead settled on sucking air through his teeth in shock at the deadpan, gravelly voice that suddenly came from beside him.
“Better get ready. It’s always pretty rough on newbies.”
“You can talk…?”
The cat was curled up on the little chair it was on, looking asleep with it’s eyes closed while talking. It peeks one open at 7e7. “Yea? Got a problem with it, punk?”
“No! No, not at all-” The deep, echoing ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to grow significantly louder, overpowering the faint crashing of waves outside and pulling the “survivors” from their conversation as some.. TV head girl? Peeks her head out from around the corner.
“EV3RYON3! DON’T P4N1C, AND IT’S V3RY RECOMM3NDED Y0U CLOS3 Y0UR EYEZ!”
“What’s happening-” Confused murmurs from all the visitors, the ground under 7e7’s feet suddenly feeling like it was wavering and spinning ever so slightly.
0:03
0:02
0:01
0:00
ROUND STARTING…