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Nanotech Engineer
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"Liz Polanski, huh? She's been quite the celebrity, hasn't she," Peter mused.

It was always about fucking Liz Polanski. Sure she'd clearly done something piss Danya off. Neil Sinclair had been busting cameras last year, but Danya hadn't offered an award for offing him then. At first, Peter had thought Neil's idea had been good. Break cameras, create blind spots on the island, and just causing lots of general disruption. Unlike finding a hole to hide in and die, Neil was doing something to break the game without killing anybody. He was doing something right.

That changed when Danya fought back. Peter could still remember those girls' screams; even behind the filter of an old TV screen with a shoddy sound system, the screams rang true and rattled him to his bones. Jazzalyn Creed, Wednesday Ryan, Trinity Sparks, and Melissa Diaz. Innocents caught in the crossfire. That wasn't right. Those girls had done nothing, except maybe hide in a hole. They'd gotten their collars blown for Neil's troubles.

How was that right?
It's not. But it's the closest thing we have.
Here was Jessie, saying exactly that. She didn't understand. She was just a girl desperate for a way off the island without killing anybody. Not that Peter could blame her: he just knew better. Whatever Liz had done, Danya couldn't blow her collar. That much, Peter had figured out on his own. But it hadn't been enough. She was still subject to every other rule of the island. It wasn't an escape, it was just a loophole. One that left a lot of bodies in its wake.

Peter shuffled about a foot toward his backpack. Imraan was still standing by the door, looking cautious and holding that shotgun. Sure Peter had gotten off lucky with just a graze the last time a gun was pointed his way, but wonky-looking dart guns were not shotguns. Those had a tendency of being very effective in close quarters. Peter could understand why Imraan would think that Peter was suspicious. Even though he was wrong.

Because Peter wasn't drunk.
Eh. The buzz is all I need.
"For the record: I'm not drunk. Just had a few sips and stuff." Peter used his free hand to pop open the top of the backpack. "You're worried about this gun, right? No worries. It's out of bullets." With that same hand, he tugged at the barrel of gun strapped to the backpack's side, while he placed the liquor bottle into the backpack's mouth. Wrenching the weapon loose from its straps, Peter held the gun up by the barrel for Imraan to see. "Lucas had the courtesy of emptying it at my friend first. Really, he deserved what he got for trying to pull shit like that." Peter shrugged, and idly waved the gun in front of him.
What am I doing with this? It's useless and will just make people shoot me.
He turned back to Jessie. Did she really think that helping Liz would do any good? Did she think that having innocent people die was worth it? This was Liz Polanski they were talking about. That girl had maybe one good bone in her body, and it only came up when Mr. Kwong was around. Truth be told, Peter had thought once that those two had something else going on. But Liz Polanski was not looking to help anybody. Peter would bet fifty bucks on that, if money even mattered any more on this island. The million dollar question though, was if Jessie knew that.

Peter saw the hardened conviction and righteousness in her eyes. Who was he kidding? She wouldn't listen to reason.
And since when was I an expert at reading facial expressions?
"So anyway, here's the thing about Liz," Peter drawled, making sure to keep an eye on Imraan in case he tried something like shooting at him. "I couldn't help but notice that through all the craziness she's been pulling, that there's been some... uh incidents that've gone down." He just needed to keep talking, keep them focused on something other than the possibilities. "Sure, she's done something cool, like disable her collar or something. But I didn't miss the memo from Danya." He raised the gun and rubbed the back of his head with it. He'd never been really good at seeing the perfect opportunity for anything. Which was probably why he so often crash and burned on dates. He couldn't afford to screw it up again though. "The thing is, if I go with you and do-"
To someone else, it might've looked like Peter was drunk and clumsy and had managed to fumble a gun. It was an inevitability, given how he was waving it around anyway. Nobody would believe it had been deliberate, planned, and had a purpose. Maybe it hadn't been, but Peter took advantage of it either way.
What else would I do when given a problem? Optimize it.
The firearm slipped out of his hand during one of his upswings, and launched itself several meters in the air. The thing about things getting thrown up, especially guns, is that people tend to notice them. It also tends to make people lose focus on other things in front of them since there's a freaking gun flying through the air. Behold. A distraction.

A fraction of a moment passed, enough for a person to react to the gun, and Peter put the next part into action. He knew where the hilt was, which way the blade was stored, and which hand to draw with. Jessie was close enough to hit from where he was. The neck would have been clean, but easier to miss. So Peter picked the next best target. He aimed low, at her belly. It'd be a bit messy, but there were no other options. Peter couldn't let her find Liz. Couldn't let her cause more deaths. He was going to protect the others on the island.
Is this the only way? Maybe we don't need to come to blows.
A ring of a steel blade escaping its sheath split the air. A step brought him back in front of Jessie, where she could provide cover. A jerk of his arm brought the killing edge across flesh. Peter's vision exploded into red.

Goddamned blood spray.

B036: Benjamin Ward: "Sh-shut the fuck up. Or I'll k-kick your ass."
B047: Marcus Leung: "Let's start by staying calm."


Rest in peace

B004 - Peter Siu: "We're all fuck-ups."
G006 - Tiffany Baker: "Will you stay with me, until I wake up?"
G027 - Marybeth Witherspoon: "The cameras are pointing here, not there."
B115 - Tony Russo: "I'm sorry...."
G087 - Rachel Gettys: "I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell."
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