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Viewing Single Post From: When the Bite Just Isn't Sharp Enough
Sister Grimm
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I am a great biotic wind that will sweep all before me like a... a great wind! A great biotic wind!
[ *  * ]
((B112, Michael Raynor Start))

It would be easy to say he was dreaming. Really, really easy, in fact. After all, this sort of thing didn't happen outside movies and games. Looking at it from a realist perspective, this was all highly unlikely to say the least. A whole senior class, picked up and transported to a mysterious island with the aim to whittle it down to one? Improbable, if anything. Yet, here he was. On Survival of the Goddamn Fittest. Very unlikely, and not something he would have gambled on earlier. Of course, the possibility of waking up in the middle of this particular forest was not something he considered a possibility. Then again, this was no doubt what he got for making a final effort to acquaint himself with his classmates before he went of to live his life. Sitting in his room on the computer may not be him living every day like his last, but it was enough to be content. But no, he had to let his mom talk him into coming along on this asinine camping trip. Wonderful.

So, when he did wake up in the middle of the forest in a spot that was decidedly not a camp ground, he was alarmed. His surroundings were a mystery, and for a moment he had to bite back the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Not only was he (shudder) outdoors, he was alone and scared. Even if other students weren't exactly his friends, it would be better then waking up in the middle of nowhere by himself. Micheal began to hyperventilate, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to pick up on the slightest hint he wasn't alone. This was bad, horrible even. Aside from the bags lying on the ground next to him, there wasn't a hint of other people ever being around.

Micheal wanted to call out, wanted to believe he wasn't alone, but he stopped short. No, he had to think, had to try and remember how he got here. Outside some bits and pieces, it was a blur. Some screaming, some loud noise that reminded him of assault rifle fire, then horrified realization. It was only after focusing on that line of though did he out everything together. Even after putting the pieces together, he had to pray he was wrong, had to pray he was making some sort of mistake and didn't remember things right. This had to be a joke, or a dream, or something. Anything that wouldn't justify that feeling of dread he felt in his gut.

It had to be something else, because the alternative was that he was screwed. He wasn't fit, wasn't some kind of tactical genius, didn't even have a lot of friends he could fall back on to watch out for him. Shit, most of his friends hadn't even come along on this trip. Unless he got a damn minigun or something, he was as good as dead. Looking at things from a practical perspective, he wasn't going to do anything without a firearm. For a second, he cracked a faltering grin. Watch him get a rubber ducky or something equally useless. Micheal pulled the day bag over to him, scrabbling through it for his assigned weapon. He was hoping for a pistol or smg, but what he found wasn't too terrible either. He pulled out the bagh nakh and turned it over in his hands, before finally holding it by the grip. It looked like something he'd seen on tv. That or a Wolverine knock-off. At least it was pretty clear it would do some damage. It reminded him of a tiger or lion's claw, with the grip fitting neatly in his hand and the five blades settled against his knuckles.

At least he wouldn't be completely helpless. Of course, he couldn't very well carry it out in the open, lest people shoot first and talk later. Just because he had a weapon didn't mean he was eager to slash everyone he saw. No, he wanted to find group of people trying not to kill everyone on the island and settle in with them. This wasn't one of his video games, he wouldn't get a second try if he fucked up. At least he'd grabbed his contact lenses this time. The last thing he would need was to be blinded this early on.

Distant voices caught his attention and helped him decide he first direction. Micheal stuffed the blade gauntlet thing back in his bag and climbed to his feet. His actual bag gave him pause. True, it would slow him down. Also true, some of his favorite shirts were packed inside. He had on one of his favorites now, a black t-shirt with an N7 logo over the heart, but that still left his whole bag. True, the voices didn't sound too terribly angry, but he couldn't exactly hear them either. Well, he'd take his bag with him for now and take the important stuff out later. Once that was settled, he threw a bag over either shoulder and started his way through the trees in the general direction of the voices. Another voice, closer by, caught his attention. A second later, the source of the speech stepped into his field of vision. Sofia something. The mechanic girl. She didn't seem to notice him, so he hesitantly offered a little wave to catch her attention. "Uh, hey. Going my way?" He asked, somewhat lamely in his own humble opinion, before offering a nervous smile.
"There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty. The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say: What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass" -Terry Pratchett, The Truth

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When the Bite Just Isn't Sharp Enough · The Woods: Inland