"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Dropbear
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Actually a cat.
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Ben Powell continued from Conquistador))

Ben was talking to himself again.

It was a small thing. He used to do it when he was young, talk to his annoying brain about ideas and questions that probably didn't matter. The doctors had shrugged it off as a stress relief function. Had he been bullied at school, had he been getting along well with others, blah de blah de blah. After a year of it, he finally stopped doing it. Apparently. Well, at least taking to yourself in your mind was probably better than out loud. That marked you as going slightly off the beaten track.

With a glance at the trees, he gave a sigh. Woodlands. More and more and more woodlands. According to the map, it stretched through almost a quarter of the whole island, possibly more. It was even more annoying that it was near impossible to navigate through it. No tracks were explicitly marked on the thing at that kind of detail. All he could do was strike off the dangerzones and make sure he was walking away from them.

Sleeping for Ben was easy. He just laid out on the dirt, pack at his head, and started to sleep. The problem is where he slept. In the end, he decided that some sort of hiding spot would be needed, but hiding in a forest? In the dark? He was better off just staying on the ground in the first place. Every few hours, his eyes shot open. Was that a twig snap? Wind rustling the leaves? Oh what he would have given to sleep in even a tent.

And now he was up. Blerry eyed, paintball gun glued to his hand. No friends. Because they were all either dead, ran away or goddamn killers now, weren't they? Oh, the choices. And where did he fit into all this?

Do you want to be the hero for these next few days? Or do you want to be a killer for the rest of your life?
Ben gave an almost creepy laugh. "I still hadn't figured that out yet."

And then he heard an echo in the distance. Someone else was laughing.

Ben swished the marker up in the general direction of the sound, before realising that it wasn't aimed at him. It was a random person in the middle of nowhere. What to do, what to do? His body shook in both fear and anticipation. After seeing Paige... well, you can't see much worse, can you?

You're going to have to make the decision very soon, Ben.
"Not this soon... I don't..."
This soon. Make a choice.

And then he blinked.

"Are you a player?"

"ARE YOU A PLAYER?!"
B069 Ben Powell: That's a bout. Salute. Shake hands.
G052 Sapphire McLeod: The Youngest Was The Most Loved
G084 Eve Walker-Luther: The Prime Time Of Your Life


Game Over. Continue?
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Jamie Snicket
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So What Do We Do Now? · The Woods: Coastal