hence-the-attitude

[hence-the-attitude]

Deviating from game mechanics a bit for the sake of pain/drama, but hopefully that's a worthy enough cause... How about, an Impostor stabs Tango and leaves him for dead, but due to some glitch or stroke of (luck? bad luck?), Tango doesn't die right away. Through the pain and the confusion of absorbing what just happened, he manages to survive just long enough to tell somebody who the killer is...or not quite long enough to get the words out. You decide. :)

i genuinely think you read my mind LMAO bc i was writing something very similar to this but with different people involved, so thank you bc now i get to explore a different idea with those people :D /gen

...

It’s near the end of the round and there’s a lot of crewmates left. One imposter has already been ejected, so Tango feels more comfortable going into navigation by himself than usual. He usually tries to get a buddy to come with him to either electrical or navigation, or the “kill-spots” as he calls them. But this time, he doesn’t feel as nervous as usual. His chance of getting killed here has halved after the last meeting.

As he finishes his download and heads over to the console to do the stabilise steering task. Footsteps catch his ears and he glances over to find someone he believes to be a friend entering the room.

“Oh hey, Impulse. Can you-.”

But he never finishes his sentence.

Impulse’s dagger strikes Tango in the stomach, causing him to choke in shock and pain. He drops to his knees, his hands automatically flying to cover the wound. His stomach is wet and sticky under his touch.

He closes his eyes, letting himself flop against the wall. The pain is immense and he just wants it to stop.

But it doesn’t.

Seconds tick by.

A minute.

Three minutes.

He’s still here.

Why hasn’t he died yet? This has never happened before.

After what feels like years, he forces his eyes open and slowly pushes himself upwards. If he’s not going to die and nobody’s coming to help him, then all he can do is go find help for himself.

Keeping his left hand pressed against his wound, Tango uses the wall to drag himself to the door, leaving smudged bloodstains in his wake.

The journey from navigation towards cafeteria is long and arduous, not least because Tango’s addled brain has to concentrate on so many things: putting one foot in front of the other, remembering to breathe, keeping his hand clamped tightly around his leaking wound, making sure he’s watching where he’s going.

He makes it into the corridor just between weapons and cafeteria before his strength fails and he collapses against the wall. As he glances back the way he came, he can see a long trail of blood from navigation. Maybe that will alert someone to his presence.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, he hears pounding footsteps and a familiar voice calling his name.

Through his flickering vision, he sees Evil kneel down beside him, staring in horror at the blood covering Tango’s clothes and abdomen.

He tries to speak, but he can’t quite manage any words.

“Tango, stay with me!” Evil says urgently. “Stay with me!”

Tango knows he can’t stay awake much longer, so he pours all his remaining energy into opening his mouth and trying to croak out the name of his killer.

Evil turns his head to the side and yells, “I NEED HELP HERE! SOMEONE HELP!”

Within seconds, Brody appears from around the corner and dashes to Evil’s side. “Oh my god, what happened?!”

“I don’t know, I-I just found him like this. There’s a trail of blood from navigation, so I-I think he’s been like this for a while.”

“How is this possible? When someone gets stabbed or shot, they die within seconds. How has this happened?”

“I don’t know, but-.”

Tango coughs. “Im…”

“He’s trying to say something.” Brody grips Tango’s shoulder. “Save your strength, Tango. We’re gonna get you through this.”

But Tango knows that’s not true. So he reaches out for Evil’s hand and grasps it weakly, trying to convey the importance of his message. “Im… Impu…” he manages to choke out.

The effort drains Tango’s remaining strength. His head tilting slightly to the side, he lets out a final shallow breath and his hand drops to the floor.

“Oh God…” Evil murmurs, staring in shock at the blood on his hand.

“Are you okay?” Brody asks quietly.

Evil takes a deep breath. “I’ll be fine for now. But you heard that too, right? He was trying to say Impulse’s name.”

“He was. Impulse must be the imposter.”

“But are we allowed to use this knowledge?”

Brody glances at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this has never happened before,” Evil explains. “Like you said, people normally die within seconds. Nobody’s ever been able to survive long enough to tell us who the killer is. So are we allowed to use Tango’s dying words as evidence against Impulse?”

Brody thinks about this for a moment, before checking his tablet. “It looks like we’ve only got one or two tasks left, so…”

As if on cue, the taskbar fills up and the game finishes.

When he reappears back in the lobby, Tango stays in his seat, lifting up his shirt just to check that his wound is gone, just like he always does when he dies during a round. He feels perfectly normal, apart from the beginnings of a headache at the very back of his head.

His stomach is clear and unblemished.

Dropping his shirt, he hops up from his seat and is immediately grabbed in a hug from either side by Evil and Brody.

“Tango, are you okay, buddy?” Brody asks.

Tango nods. “Yeah, all good. Why?”

Brody and Evil exchange a frown. “What do you mean?” the latter says slowly. “We saw you bleed to death in front of us.”

“Wait, really?” Tango also frowns. “I don’t remember that. Impulse stabbed me, and that’s the last thing I remember. Pretty normal.”

As Evil opens his mouth again, Brody quickly says, “Okay, good, give us a second please, thanks.”

He draws Evil away to the other side of the lobby and lowers his voice. “Okay, this is weird. Tango doesn’t remember anything unusual happening. If it was some kind of glitch that caused Tango to not die straight away, then it also must’ve erased his memory of it.”

“Then why do we remember?” Evil responds.

“I don’t know, but this is kinda worrying. Keep an eye out for anything like this happening again in future, okay? Even if you’re the imposter, just come to me if you can and let me know. I’ll do the same even if I’m imposter.”

Evil nods. “Will do. Hopefully it won’t happen again, though.”

Brody glances back at Tango, who’s now chatting happily with Impulse. The memory of Tango bleeding out on the floor right in front of him is fresh in his mind. This may be a game about death but that was new. That was deeply unsettling. And even though Tango doesn’t seem to remember the incident, Brody would rather not have him or anyone else go through that again.

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

[hence-the-attitude]

having a huge breakdown but not telling anyone because that’s attention seeking and manipulative :)

[hence-the-attitude]

i havent been on tumblr in years i just need somewhere to fucking scream at the void and i dont have anywhere to do so. i guess ill just type at the void and maybe the void will talk back. i literally cannot think of one single good thing happening to me rn and thats fucking sad. i lost my fucking job. im living back at home with my mom with minimal privacy. i havent had a boyfriend since fucking highschool and i feel so unlovable. (i know thats not the only type of love.. “youre living back at home! your mom must love you!” yeah she does i know. but i want a romantic love. i want to curl up in someones arms and let them console me in my bad moments. i want to kiss someone and tell them that itll all be over soon. i just want to fucking sleep next to someone) i constantly feel sick to my stomach. i cant fall asleep for hours because my mind wont stop racing about how much i miss my job and all my friends and my apartment and how much i wish life was back to normal. i know “This Is The New Normal”TM i know. but im fucking  pissed and im allowed to be pissed. and if trump fucking wins im just gonna bail on this stupid country. its not like i have a job, a family, or a house 

[hence-the-attitude]

[hence-the-attitude]

When the person next to you on an airplane doesn’t realize you’re not their therapist. 

[hence-the-attitude]

[hence-the-attitude]

[hence-the-attitude]

adam sandler’s shooting a movie at my (very queer liberal arts) college this week and facebook has become a very surreal place. people keep posting stuff like “man i thought adam sandler would be a jerk but i just keep seeing him complimenting peoples’ pastel hair dye and helping people carry things” and “aw man i’m gonna be late to class, i cant leave the building because adam sandler is kicking the shit out of ben stiller”

[hence-the-attitude]

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“I got you, bro.” 🔊

[hence-the-attitude]

having a huge breakdown but not telling anyone because that’s attention seeking and manipulative :)

[hence-the-attitude]

[hence-the-attitude]

[hence-the-attitude]

[hence-the-attitude]

[hence-the-attitude]

IT’S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN

[hence-the-attitude]

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