If I take out the supernatural part, probably Robert, since he's the most experienced in weird horror/death stuff. If I take away him, then it would be Mr. Sol, literally cuz he's rich and shitty. And the shitty guys usually survive quite well during catastrophes.
Can't people finally write some sports fanfic that isn't fluff and character x reader and stuff but instead also sports focused? Cuz I am STRUGGLING to find one for me to get inspiration from. I feel alone x3
I have no clue if what I'm writing is accurate either lol
Lowk feelin nostalgic cuz I just recently remembered how I more or less started out Alltime with the Storm Fae.
And the Fangs are meant to represent stagnation in character development because shitholes are a cycle that you can't seem to mentally break out of. That's also why I wrote the gun range scene where Nyx wonders if they could ever be main characters and Ace denies it, pointing exactly these flaws out.
"I almost thought I wasted my time here," Robert jokes, voice a bit of a grumble as he makes no effort to sound funny. She giggles and he narrows his eyes a little.
"If you bring me a fishy, I'll give you food and water for the day," Nyx tells him, "That's todays quest. Take it or leave it, I don't care."
Seems easy enough. He should have taken the fish from the fishing game.
"I'll fetch you one," Robert agrees, getting up. She clasps her hands together.
"Great! Come back when you have it."
Robert leaves the tent, the flashing decorations, smells and street noises filling his senses once more. The whole world seems brighter out here than in the tent.
He shakes it off and leaves, backtracking in his steps. The fish stand should be somewhere around...
He knows he's close when the road changes back to gravel. There's the balloon stand. Robert glances at it briefly. The lights are still on, the balloons still hanging and purple confetti litters the floor inside. He trudges by.
"Hello!" the young boy from the stand a few meters away calls out. Robert waves back, approaching the fish stand.
"You're back already," the boy smiles, "wanna play?"
Robert shrugs, remarking, "I got a, what do you call it... quest. I need a fish and these came to mind. Can I borrow one?"
The kid looks down into the pool of fish swimming around, still seated on his three legged stool.
"Can you tell me about the other games if I let you? I only got this far, and no one ever comes back here, so it's kind of lonely."
"Ok," Robert agrees. He takes an empty box discarded at the back of the stall and seats himself. He clasps his hands and the boy edges closer with his stool, leaning forward in anticipation.
"What's your name?" Robert begins.
"Nicu. I'm Nicu and I'm eleven."
"Alright, Nicu. Further down this road, there are more stands. One stand had balloons, and you could shoot darts at them. I got one and purple confetti flew around us."
"Oh yes, I heard that. I never knew that the popping was balloons," Nicu thinks out loud. Robert nods.
"Yes. And then... and then," he hesitates, "then I continued down the road and found a shooting game, with the rifle I have here. After that, I went to a big tent, and there were candles lighting it up, and carpets laying out the floors. That's where a girl asked me for the fish."
"Wow," Nicu breathes, completely hooked on his every word, "That sounds so fun. It's like a game quest."
Robert only shrugs.
"I have to do what I have to do, just like you. Can we play the game now?"
Nicu's face falters a little when he hears the question.
"I'll give you one for free," he offers instead, before holding out his pinkie, "If you pinkie promise to come back and tell me about the tent."
Robert nods in agreement, interlocking fingers with a little smile.
"I promise."
The boy happily gets up from his stool, grabbing a plastic bag. He fills it with some water from the pool and rolls up the sleeves on his shirt, wrinkling the dinosaur bones printed on them.
With a delighted yelp, he plunges his hands into the pool coming up with a fish.
"I'm really good at this," he tells Robert as it flops into the bag. Standing upright again, he holds out the fish, pride beaming on his face.
"So you are," he agrees, receiving the gift. Robert gets up to leave, turning back one last time.
"I'll see you in the morning, ok?"
"Yess, I can't wait. Can you bring me a snack too? I'm really hungry."
He nods and leaves. Such a bright and quirky kid. What did he do to come here? He glances back. Nicu seems like a kid who doesn't need to know what goes on beyond the fishing spot. Then again... The image of their first meeting comes back to him. A duel between him and the kid. Robert shakes his head lightly, grounding himself in the crunch of gravel beneath his boots and the carousel music playing in his ears.
As he walks, he lifts the bag to examine it closer. The fish swims in a circle, quite healthy looking, the golden yellow pale scales glittering in the light the stands cast.
A watchful gaze rips his attention away from the fish and to his surroundings. There are a few people around now, unlike before. Two of them, two women, are stood by an empty stall right ahead, eyeing him and pushing off of the post. They position themselves expectantly as he approaches.
One crap after the next here, isn't it. He grips the shouldersling of his rifle a little tighter and there's a moment of them standing there.
Their gaze is fixated on the bag Robert holds, the one with the fish in it. The left woman is wearing a dirty white tank top, skinny jeans and pearly earrings. Smoke puffs out of her mouth, which still has a smidgen of rosy lipstick here and there, as she speaks, a cigar pinched between her long fingers. Her sharp hazel eyes are partly hidden by sunglasses tinted black, slick hair pulled to one side of her shoulder.
" A newbie," the woman points out, voice husky and low.
"Can I help you two?" Robert asks, voice kept polite.
"If I may offer, let's trade," she offers, puckering her lips to blow out a ring of smoke to the side, glance cast off to the side eyeing the rifle.
"Your fishy there for information on how this game works."
"Can we have a conversation like adults and not spew demands around? You're not a kid, are you?" Robert criticizes, eyes hard. Any guy who'd talk to him like that would be on the ground doing pushups by now. She clearly has not been anywhere close to a place like the military.
"Oh sorry, tough guy, but rules are everything here. As long as I know more, you better behave and give me that fish... And the rifle."
"Sorry, but if you won't even introduce yourself, I'm not going to do anything of that sort," he responds,, unslinging his rifle. The other womans hand immediately responds, moving into her hoodie pocket. She's got to have a gun or something of that sort. Gun beats rifle in this closer distance. Maybe it's a knife. He hadn't looked closely enough at the bulge.
The woman with the cigar scoffs, "Kill us will you? You do you that a rule for pvp exists, correct?"
"Kinda sucks for both of us then, if you really want to continue confronting me then," Robert answers calmly, focusing on loading the piece with two bullets. Not too shabby of quality either. It should definitely suffice for this distance.
"Alright, fine," the woman with the cigar huffs, voice tilting a little. She shakes off the ash from the butt with a flick of her fingers. The other woman pulls out her weapon that had been concealed. The blade glints in the light. Wait, a knife? Robert moves back instinctively as she lets it fly through the air with a twist of the wrist.
"What the fu-" Robert curses out loud as it brushes the plastic bag, ripping a little hole in it. The fish flies out with the swoosh of the water streaming out.
"Didn't you want the stupid thing?" He questions, irritation evident. Maybe a dead fish works too. One glance at the duo tells him that that was their trump card of sorts aswell. To be honest, the silent woman was quite a good shot for the distance between them.
"Don't worry, you're as good as dead now," the woman with the cigar laughs haughtily, "Thank you for your participation."
His mind races. What... Is something supposed to happen? They watch the fish flop around on the ground, all the water disappearing between the cracks of the gravel.
One moment passes. Another. The fish flip flops and the music plays. He watches them carefully as the cigar lady visibly swallows, licking her lips in growing anxiety.
"What...," the woman questions quietly, glancing around. Her eyes are frantic as she looks.
With two clicks his rifle he raises it, aiming right at them. With an instant, both of them freeze up a little.
"Wait," the second woman in hoodie speaks up for the first time, "We have a lot of tickets since we've been here from the start. If you know anything, I wouldn't shoot. I'm willing to talk."
"Why the frick are the guns not activating. The stupid fish is dead," the cigar woman mutters. He glances to where she's looking. The lasers set up all around the place stay still, and yet she still looks to them expectantly.
"Explain. Why did you want the fish? Am I supposed to have died?" Robert demands. Right when the quiet woman is about to speak again, the cigar woman interrupts, "Shut up, Ell, I swear. Look, just get yourself another fish. No harm done. Now..."
She's turns her feet, shoes giving away the intent with a crunch against the gravel.
"Halt!" Robert calls out, immediately lunging forward to stop the woman from fleeing. She, in turn, pushes 'Ell' in his way, and she collides with him with a yelp.
As a native german speaker I sometimes need to remind myself, when writing in english, that I cant just keep going with a sentence and that, unlike german, where you can make a sentence go on for as long as you want if you're a true lover of Nebensätze, english sentences are usually shorter and aren't supposed to go on for multiple lines or god forbid a whole paragraph.
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