Child's Play OCT R1 Prologue: Vs Miles Archer

Jay scanned the camp warily again once she was left in peace, cataloguing the various people (and that was a stretch) around the fire, and dismissing those she doubted would be immediately dangerous, and taking note of those who concerned her.  (And if seemed like half of the people here were just children).  Satisfied that she was at least relatively unobserved (she could feel eyes, she just couldn't figure out who they belonged to), she slid away from the fire, towards the trees, (after some debate, she'd made the decision that it was probably safer staying off the ground and out of the way, even if that afurisit monkey kept following her).  After some search, she found a likely looking candidate still fairly close to the camp (not a pine, surprisingly enough, but with stronger limbs to hold her) and slipped into it, doing her best to stay as unnoticed as she currently was.

A fork in the branches provided her with a sturdy perch, and she settled in, absently bringing her rifle up to scan the camp again.  And yes, not all the things down there were human (although the vast majority were humanoid, which, she supposed, was something to be thankful for).  She settled her rifle across her lap and let her head snap back against the trunk behind her, relishing the pain (because that at least didn't feel like part of some warped nightmare, the kind that Jay had never got (she had far too many demons (memories) haunting her nights already without letting her imagination run away from her)).

“Meine Gott, Jay, what have you got yourself into this time?” she sighed quietly, pulling her hat off and running her hand through her hair.

She braced one foot on the branch across from her and leant her head on her knee, one hand gripping her rifle, the other her cap, just trying to breath.  It had been years since it had been this difficult (seven years, eight months, three days), years since she'd felt this tightening in her chest, and the last time...  She shook her head sharply, focusing on keeping her breathing steady (it was the one thing she remembered being able to control in all of this, no matter the tightness of her chest, she could force herself to breath, because regardless of the other things happening, she'd always had excellent control of her body).  She wasn't entirely sure how long she sat there (these attacks always messed with her body clock), shaking slightly, heart feeling like it was trying to hammer its way out of her chest, blood roaring in her ears and her hands clenching white-knuckle tight on her rifle (she wouldn't lose control, she wouldn't, she couldn't afford to, she needed to stay in control, she needed to survive (jiog, she was already at least half-insane so that was a lost battle), but eventually, she sat back, the cool night air feeling pleasant against her overheated skin.

“Well,” she said, tugging her cap back onto her hair.  “Let's take stock.”

One: She had somehow ended up somewhere a long long way from where she was suppose to be.
Two: Wherever that 'somewhere' was, it probably had very little connection to where she came from.
Three: Apparently foxes spoke.
Four: She still had weapons.  Her rifle (no spare ammo), her 9mil (one spare clip), her knives (four, including her emergency one), one shock charge (also her emergency one, but it would come in useful).
Five: She didn't know whether time here ran concurrently with time elsewhere, so she didn't know...
Six: There had been no set time-frame on her mission.  No-one was sure when to expect her back.  (Very few even knew where she had been).  No-one would be coming to look even if they did declare her MIA (or more likely AWOL).
Seven: Chances were there'd be a kill-order on her head if she ever did get back.

“Yebatʹ,” she spat.  Well, she couldn't do anything about any of that unless she survived this...whatever it was.  And that monkey was back again.  “The yebat' d'you want?” she demanded, prodding her rifle at it.

“Play,” the monkey stated, swinging from the branch it was clinging to, away from her rifle.

“No.  Not right now.”

“Play!”

“Mon Dieu.  Non!”

The monkey seemed to pout, and Jay had a very strong urge to just shoot the little bugger, but something stopped her.  She didn't know anything about her situation, not really, and until she did, she wasn't do anything that might screw her over.  Instead, she changed her aim and jostled the branch until the monkey fell, she leaned out of her 'nest', smiling as the monkey caught a lower branch.  With any luck, it would take it a little while to get back up here, and in that time, she could get a quick nap before having to deal with any more of this mess.

–

Jay snapped awake, staying perfectly still, eyes closed, breathing even, automatically doing a check of her surroundings.  Still in the tree, nothing had crept up on her, rifle in her lap, along with that bloody monkey, but hey, there had to be something off about this didn't there?  Unfortunately, upon opening her eyes, everything she'd catalogued really was there, proving that last night hadn't just been some weird-ass hallucination.  (She would be so lucky).  It was still dark, and her internal clock was functioning, she'd barely been asleep half an hour, but she felt better than she had.  She shoved the monkey off her lap, snorting in amusement as it appeared to glare up at her.

“Fire!” it stated.  Jay blinked for a moment, before realizing it was a directive to move back to the fire, rather than to shoot something.  She swung lightly down from the tree, landing in a guarded crouch that looked more like she was trying to catch her balance, and absently scanning her surroundings as she pushed herself back to her feet.  She slung her rifle back over one shoulder and span her cap around, trying to look at least somewhat close to harmless, trying to just sort of fade into the scenery (she'd had plenty of practise).  The monkey appeared at her shoulder, and after a moment's hesitation, she jerked her head, and let it scramble onto her shoulder.  Maybe now she'd get some answers about what was going on.

She'd just found somewhere to lurk (stand, she didn't lurk, no matter what Simon said), when the creature (Roxxanne) reappeared, a bounce to its (her) step as it (she) moved, directly into the fire.  Jay shook her head, hand tightening reflexively on her rifle strap (she could deal with this, it wasn't that big a deal, it was just like when that mark managed to get her with the hallucinogens in her drink (she'd still got that kill, arsenic in his dim sum)).

Then Roxxanne started talking, apologizing, and talking about 'the game'.  (Jay had had other things on her mind, 'playing' wasn't something that factored very highly in her thoughts).  And that smirk...  That smirk didn't belong, that wasn't Roxxanne (Jay didn't know much about the creature, but she'd seen enough, and that smirk was something else).  Jay didn't know what, but that was not the cheerful creature she'd been confronted with earlier, even if it did bear the same face.

“This is why I’m so glad to announce that the game is ready to begin!” Roxxanne announced, arms sweeping out, and fingers snapping together, a spark igniting as though from a lighter.

The cabins started moving, and Jay did the only thing she could think of to try and hold onto what little sanity she still possessed.  She closed her eyes, focused on her breathing and kept up a constant silent litany of 'no worse than hallucinogens', and didn't look until Roxxanne started speaking again.  (Oh, 'competitors' were they?  Now why did that sound ominous?).

Other words encouraged the growing feeling of unease ('complications', 'very temporary'), this was starting to confirm her suspicions that this was a fighting competition.  Okay, that she could do.  (She squashed the urge to grin wickedly).  And she needed to win this.  Really need to win this.  (She couldn't care less about the feast, she'd gone longer without food, she was okay for days yet so long as she got liquids, but losing her chance to get home...she couldn't let that happen).

“Oh, and I may want to include this teensy detail, it might be good to know.”  Roxxanne's smirk didn't fit on her face again, and there was something in her voice...  “The floor is lava.”

Jay frowned at that, but headed towards the cabins, looking for her own name. Okay, king of the hill she got, she’d learnt it in Changeling where her Sector used it as a training exercise, but what the hell was with the floor being lava?  It couldn't be literal, or it shouldn't be literal, surely the cabins would be on fire if it was literal?  Jay shook her head and reminded herself that she didn't know the laws that governed this world – didn't know how it worked, for all she knew, Roxxane could stop that happening.

She found the cabin with her name on it, stopping on the stoop, and scanning her surroundings briefly.  No matter how safe they stayed, she couldn't help but feel it was only a matter of time...

She turned her attention back to the whiteboard that had two names scribbled on it.  Her own (obviously) and 'Miles Archer', well, that was...unexpected, and perhaps unfortunate.  She made a quiet noise in her throat, debating rubbing her name out before entering the cabin.

But she didn't know the rules here, sakra.  Shaking her head, she pushed the door open.

Well the floor looked solid, and a quick prod with the butt of her rifle (because no-way was she risking the barrel) didn't reveal any hidden traps, but still...

She noted the skirting board of the room, tracing it to a fireplace via a couple of side-tables, pictures and coat-hooks hanging from the wall offering viable handholds.  Better safe than sorry...

She was just about to swing in when she felt someone behind her.  (Heard rather than felt in this instance, but still).

“Well, we meet again,” she stated evenly, glancing the man in front of her over again, making no effort to hide her assessing gaze this time, letting her rifle hang from her shoulder as her fingers tapped restlessly against her 9mil.

“Indeed we do, Ms Sniper,” Archer responded with a grin.  “And it would appear that we're to be opponents.”

“Indeed it would.”