(Untitled)

[fuckyou_chorus]

[Some would call this "the calm before the storm." A good four, maybe five hours before the countdown hits zero, and camp itself is rather . . . peaceful, in some respects. Perhaps even too quiet, as campers and counselors and alien interlopers either prepare for combat or make their way to underground safehouses. The air is cool, still, and the

Comments

[tickingtykebomb]

[sitting somewhere sharpening her knives]

[copyrightabuser]

Leave it to me!

[tickingtykebomb]

Right. And you keep your own ass out of trouble too.

[copyrightabuser]

[nods!]

Take care of yourself as well!

[tickingtykebomb]

I will.

[faileh]

[comes over, sits down beside, and starts oiling his m51]

Do you have a file?

[tickingtykebomb]

With all the info? Yeah, but not with me. Want it?

[faileh]

Nah, a file for my bolt. It's catching on the end and I don't have time to polish the whole piece.

[tickingtykebomb]

Now that I have. [digs around in her bag and hands him the file]

You won't believe how long it took me to get my stuff in working order yesterday. I think I'm outta practice.

[faileh]

Yeah... my normal carry is fine, but the automatics?

[shakes his head as he pulls the one in his lap apart and smooths things out]

[tickingtykebomb]

Hey, we hardly ever have special occasions around here. No reason to use 'em! The excuse I'm using, anyway.

[stops sharpening and checks the blade's edge]

[faileh]

I'd be okay without this special occasion.

[tickingtykebomb]

I would be too, except for the part where I get to kick that fucking virus in the face. I'm cool with that part!

[faileh]

Why else would I be up here?

[tickingtykebomb]

Good point. I've seen a couple people who're definitely just planning on being spectators, though. And there're the ones trying to herd the civilians underground.

[faileh]

How many spectators are you talking?