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RED SNOW [IC]
"Are we live? Okay.
The Winter Arena - Located across much of the 'North Pole'. Once dotted by houses full of loving families is now desolate as the residents were roasted over an open fire for the wolves who will also be waiting for the losers of this year's tournament. Santa's elves have setup hidden cameras to stream the action to every home for all to enjoy as this has become a global event thanks to crude inspiration The Hunger Games and Battle Royale. All participants brave enough to enter are being randomly dropped via parachute over the open, snowy arena. The only shelter are the few log cabins that still stand and some random tree forts made by those from past years.
If the hunt lasts longer than needed, they have been provided with slim supplies that will get them through a day or two and keep off the cold and starvation. There are also weapon crates waiting on the ground for them. Like the years before, every contestant is given a Secret Santa Tracker that allows them to easily hunt their target, it won't turn on until Santa decides.
Hold on... I'm just getting word that the contestants are now en route via a C-47 due to budget reasons. Seems they will parachute one by one with a twenty second gap between each as the plane circles around for full coverage of the area. Thankfully we have cameras in the plane at this very moment and will now switch over to watch as tensions rise. This has been Imp with your yearly Red Snow report!"
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Intro Round Begins
(means no killing until Round 1)
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Alexander looked at the people around him. Gauging their abilities, he laughed. This's gonna be easy, he thought. I'll be walking out of here alive.
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The earth seemed to be rushing towards her far too quickly for her liking. She never did understand why people felt the need to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. Couldn't they just land the damn thing already? Why the need to Jump? She didn't get it. The sky was a perfect crystal blue. You could really see for miles at this height, she thought. The air was whipping around her face and still the ground came closer, and closer. Until finally.... "THUMP" the sound seemed loud in her ears after all the rushing of the wind... that was the sound of her boots as they finally made impact with the packed dirt of the earth. Did her legs buckled just a bit? Sure, but at least she hadn't fallen on her ass with the landing, so that was something at least.
Reaching up, she quickly released the clips that attached her to the rather large, rather deflated parachute that was spread out behind her, barely giving it a second glance as she dusted herself off and ran a finger through her hair. Talk about your wind blown look. With a soft grin, she took a look about, nodding at the other contestant nearby and watched the sky for the rest to arrive.
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"Whaaa!" Q was tumbling down to the ground. He was no paratrooper. "Fucknuts!"
As his parachute popped, he was a little more relaxed, but it still didn't look well. There was also an undecorated pinetree in the way. Will he hit it facefirst? It seems about a 50/50 chance.
(2d6)[8]
He did not! How lucky! With newfound trust in his survival skills, Q hit the ground and jogged for the big crate near his position. He pulled out a long-barreled antique-looking firearm. It must be a black-powder rifle or something of the sorts. He did not have the know-how to reload that thing, but perhaps he could figure it out as he went. For now, the musket's flimsy bayonet would have to do.
First thing he did is jump into the bushes. Those bastards will never get him here! Ha-ha!
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Alexander leaped skywards. There, he hung for a moment, before gravity regained its hold on him and sent him plummeting down. He fell. And he fell. And he fell. And then... Thump! his parachute opened. Daintily drifting to the ground, he searched for useful things. Things like a crate. His feet touched the ground and he was already unclipping and running. He began to sing quietly. "Dashing through the snow, get the fuck out out of my way, you're so fucking slow, and fat what do you weigh, ha-ha-ha. You can't fucking sing, I'll start a fucking fight, get out of my way you fucking hoe, I'm driving here tonight. Jingle bells, go to hell, get the fuck out of my way, oh what fun it is to ride, over bodies everyday! Jingle bells, go to hell, bitch what the fuck'd I say? Run that ass cuz you can't from my motherfucking sleigh!" He came across his crate. He knew it was his crate, becuase it said "Axe guy" on it. He hoped it was an axe. He cracked it open, and lo and behold... a bb gun... Oh. He picked it up, feeling its weight. He supposed he could use it as a club...
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D’Nafein snored as he plummeted planetward. He’d been through this a dozen times between PUBg, Fortnite, and Blackout. His chute would pop automatically and he’d drift on to the ground. Hopefully he wouldn't land at school or the construction site.
A sudden tug and his eyes popped open scanning the ground beneath him. There was a lot of white down there. Must be an arctic map. He thought to himself. Picking a likely place as he neared the ground Dna (as he was frequently called,) released the chute.
He landed, as planned, in a deep snow drift. He quickly took stock of his supplies and grunted. He’d need a weapon, D’Nafein decided. Stretching his legs he heard a thump, moving through the snow he saw the chest. Opening it he grinned. “That’'ll do.”
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Kris glided gracefully, as it seems her pair of wings ceased to function as they originally were, and she could not beat them to fly. Instead she used them to gracefully aim her landing, making the impact which was already soften with the aid of the parachute, to be more comfortable.
She dusted off her clothes, hearing the sounds of spinning blades above her head as the airplane took off, leaving her in an area she was not familiar with. She felt the chill penetrating her skin, and she shivered, even her wings no longer function because of the cold.
They then disappear all together, making her realize that all her magic and spells which she drew from the source of the fantasy section RP, was lost in this environment, and she had nothing to relay on, but a small, comic looking box which read, "Drink me" "Open me" bitch
She crouched as she hugged herself, the cold was too much to bear and she exhaled steam. Opening the box she found her weapon, she appeared to be in rather shaky state…. Still, it was better than nothing, and with a little planning she could survive this.
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Alexander looked around for people. No one. He slid into the bushes. This wasn't going to plan, but, with some careful planning, a bit of luck, and his bb gun, he could win this.
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I haven't decided if you figured out if you're going to be the nicest girl on my naughty list, or the naughtiest girl on my nice list ;)
Red sent the message to his latest tinder match, Ashley, as an opener. It's the Christmas season, so might as well be festive with his lines. Wait... shit... no signal...
Red sighed, he should've realized that since he's in an island in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. He unclipped the parachute from his back, before noticing the nearby chest. He quickly opened up before grabbing the strange device inside.
"What the hell is this?" he muttered before strapping it onto his right arm. He started to wave it around and point at random trees to figure out what it does. It looked like some sorta range weapon, but he had no idea - BOOM!
A drill shot out a hit a tree, leaving behind a nice hole inside. "Well, that just happened," Red shrugged before glancing down at his weapon again. He didn't exactly liked ranged weapons, but he supposed he could find a way to improvise it with melee attacks.
Time to start wandering around this forest and find his target... or a friend to make an alliance... or maybe even signal just to continue right swiping on his tinder babes.
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G was the last to exit the plane - as she tumbled through the air, the world spinning in and out of view in the first few seconds of freefall before she stretched out her arms to plummet straight toward the ground. Adrenaline filled her - skydiving had been one of her all time favourite experiences the first time; and knowing that she was rushing not just toward the ground, but to an insane and potentially deadly battle, well - that just upped the ante. She was filled with confidence, and as her parachute flew from its housing and slowed her descent, she used the time to scan the ground below as the other combatants hit the earth, approaching weapon crates and locking and loading. She hadn't seen her target... yet.
Her legs outstretched at a right angle in front of her, she skidded along the ground, the snow seeping through her thin, grey tights and leaving her legs and behind damp. Damn, she thought as she shrugged off the straps of her chute and got to her feet, brushing the white flecks from her thighs, I am not dressed for this. Christmas in Australia was far from a winter wonderland, and her white t-shirt and tights weren't doing much in the way of warmth - though maybe the pale colours would be helpful in blending in with the terrain.
Much like the others, her first move was to the nearest crate; she tore the top off eagerly, reaching inside to pull out...
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?!" she said indignantly, her fist closed around a rolled up magazine. She slapped it against the open palm of her other hand, scowling. Tucking it under one arm, she pulled her dark hair into a high ponytail, fastening it with the elastic she had round her wrist.
"Right. It's not over till it's over!" she thought, and lifted her eyes once more to her surrounds. Noone in the immediate vicinity, but that wouldn't last long. She struck off through the snow toward the nearest structure she could see - a ramshackle log cabin - maybe there would be something remotely useful inside. Maybe not - she clutched the magazine in her hand again, glancing down at it before returning to her constant scan of the horizon. She had done more with less. The fun was just getting started.