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Ghost Of Ravenstar
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Armed and Unsafe
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((B051: Gavin Hunter - Start))

Gavin felt terrible. It was the gas, that unknown chemical that had forcibly rendered him unconscious several times in a row. Whatever it's precise scientific designation, it didn't agree with Gavin at all. His stomach was churning like an industrial mixing vat, his muscles were burning and his head felt as if somebody had whacked it with the lead pipe he'd apparently been assigned as a weapon.

Yet in an odd way, Gavin was grateful that he felt so awful. The physical pain helped stave off the emotional turmoil he knew would hit with all the force of a speeding freight train if he allowed himself to think about his situation in more than the most immediate aspects for more than a second.

So instead he concentrated on being angry. Not at his situation, but at Greynolds. Greynolds, Greynolds, fucking GREYNOLDS; the man he'd watched shoot a man first in the leg, then in the head. That hadn't been his cardinal sin, however. No, Gavin didn't hate Greynolds for the murder, Greynolds held a special place in Gavin's own personal hell for what he'd done next.

He shot into a crowded room. The fucking retarded sack of shit shot into a crowded room filled with his own men and the cargo that he'd just spent fucking months planning to abduct. If I ever find out where he learned to shoot, I'll fucking burn the place to the ground. At least he was using a pretty low-calibre pistol, probably a .22 or .38 by the sound of it and the wounds I saw it inflict. Still, the ricochet could've killed somebody – most likely his own fucking men. SOTF must have the best fucking dental plan in the universe.

It was an irreverent train of thought to be pursuing in a situation like this, but concentrating on it was all that was keeping Gavin sane. He was trembling like a leaf, but it wasn't from the after-effects of the gassing. His world had been shattered by the abduction; every solid concept that he used to anchor his psyche had been swept away with contemptuous ease by the terrorists.

Gavin was not afraid to die. Death as a concept had never frightened him. The cessation of life was something that simply did not worry him on any level, for reasons that he'd never quite been able to put down into words. What had always haunted Gavin was the prospect of losing control; giving into the vicious, unquenchable emotions that he'd kept locked away since the earliest days of youth.

Those emotions won't turn me into a killer, but they will turn me into an idiot. I will not allow that to happen.

It was clichéd in a way; the class loner fighting to keep his darker side at bay. The concept actually made Gavin giggle, a rather strained sound made through dry lips. Apparently the inability to generate saliva was another 'delightful' after-effect of the terrorist gas. He vaguely remembered there being a water bottle in his day pack, so he rummaged inside until he found the container and removed the cap, bringing it to his lips.

As moisture returned to his lips, Gavin cast his eyes around the area he had awoken in. A faintly psychedelic haze had rested over his senses ever since he'd returned to them, so up till now he had registered nothing but the barest details of his surroundings. He didn't even remember how he'd found and identified his day-pack either, those memories were all fuzzy and indistinct.

He was standing (or half-crouched, his body still hadn't shaken off the gas effects enough to make standing an easy proposition) in a park, seedy and overgrown. It looked to have been abandoned for years. Gavin could see a few fragments of coloured glass scattered among the weeds, and after adjusting his gaze horizon-wards he saw that a large gazebo was only about a hundred feet away from him.

A gazebo... that rang a bell. Hadn't he been in a gazebo, not too long ago? Gavin was just pondering this when suddenly a voice rang in his ears. It sounded familiar, at least to the degree that it belonged to another teenager. It also sounded surprisingly normal, all things considered.

I could do with a dose of normality right now. Gavin thought. The last thing he wanted was to run into some panicky cheerleader screaming her head off at being dumped into SOTF. He wasn't in much of a position to offer emotional support to anyone.

By now Gavin felt better. He was still a little shaky, but his complexion had returned to normal and he could stand without experiencing a pressing urge to void his bowels. Now that would be an embarrassing way to start SOTF. He pushed himself to his full height, and then squared his shoulders. His joints made several somewhat alarming clicking noises, but everything seemed to be in working order.

Now that he had achieved an upright position without anything important falling off, Gavin took full stock of his situation. He was still in the same clothes that he had been wearing, but all of his tools were gone. That didn't matter too much; he'd left his important equipment at home anyway. Groaning slightly, Gavin bent down and replaced the water bottle he'd been drinking from in his day-pack, then hoisted it over his right shoulder by the carrying strap. He debated taking the lead pipe as well, then finally grabbed the thing and rested the heavy length against his other shoulder.

His load as comfortable as it could be, Gavin began to advance on the gazebo at a slow pace. He couldn't really manage anything faster at the moment, and he didn't want to alarm the two people he could already see standing among the ruins. He hadn't been very near the gazebo when he'd first awoken, and it was only the call that had made him really notice it in the first place. It was so overgrown that had his attention not been drawn to it, he would probably have wandered off in the opposite direction.

He weaved his way through the overgrown paths and past the statues until he could see the two other teenagers more clearly. They were both small compared to him, and he faintly recognised the male by virtue of him being one of the very few in Aurora he knew to be less than 5'8 in height. It was Grey something or other. The other one he recognised as... a cheerleader. Fan-fucking-tastic!

But just as Gavin was about to call out to the two in the gazebo, he saw a third figure approaching from another direction. She was noticeably taller than the two other occupants of the gazebo, though still considerably shorter than Gavin himself. He wasn't close enough to read her expression, but by her posture he could tell she wasn't happy.

For a moment Gavin considered turning and walking away. But then he realised that with so many other kids of the island, he was more or less certain to run into some of the more annoying ones sooner or later. He sighed and trudged onwards, adjusting his pace slightly to give the newcomer a lead on him.

He timed his arrival well, all three teenagers had their attention more or less focused solely upon each-other by the time he was close enough to hear their conversation at normal volume. He saw the new girl, whose name he could now place as 'Andrea' or something along those lines; throw something at Grey's feet – a stone, from what Gavin could see.

Deciding to make both his presence and intentions clear at the same time, Gavin took the last few steps towards the trio and raised his voice to attract their attention, "Hey, sorry to disturb the three of you, but do any of you have a gun?"

Nice to see you've got your priorities straight there, oh great white Hunter.

Shut up.
#B051: Gavin Hunter - Equipped with oh gosh a whole lot. "Well, we break for two months and I'm now suddenly in high definition..."

[08:46] Ghost of Ravenstar: I love the AF2011-A1 as it fits Gavin's perceived personality so damn well.
[08:47] Alex: Overcompensatory, unnecessary and appeals to what someone who watches anime obsessively would perceive as "cool?"
[08:47] Ghost of Ravenstar: BINGO!!!
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