Kitty Korlac's Survival Island

[Blink]

Kitty Korlac's first impression of this island paradise completely exceeded her expectations. As the helicopter roared loudly in the air, her focus on the landscape underneath her completely drained the noise from her ears. This pocket verse - this huge, beautiful island was exactly what she needed it to be. It had serene beaches, rolling hills and a horizon that warmed her typically cool demeanor. On top of that, though, it also had this feeling of dread that seemed to envelope it. The fact that it was so empty, despite looking like it had been lived on. It was eerie. Kitty loved that about it.

"What do you think?" came a voice next to her. It was over a microphone, since there was no way anyone could hear over the noise if the roters spinning above them. She turned her head to see the well-dressed executive next to her. She had to brush away her platinum blonde locks as her mane threatened to escape the confines of its bun. He was grinning through shiny, well-kept teeth. The sun was shining off his head. "It's gorgeous, am I right?"

"Its okay," Kitty shrugged. She gave a frown, as if disappointed. But as soon as she turned her shoulder to look out at the scene again, it disappeared and gave way to a wry little smile. The reality was that this was perfect. The perfect scene for her perfect show.

It took awhile for the helicopter to circle the island, letting Kitty and the executives with her get a sense of the land beneath them. Finally, it began to descend down towards the southern-most point of the landmass, where what appeared to be an airfield sat, untouched. The aerial vehicle landed gently on the runway, right in the middle. Once the rotors stopped spinning, Kitty was helped out by a man in what appeared to be a military uniform. She gave him a polite smile and walked right by.

Kitty brushed any creases off of her tight-fitting dress as she looked down the runway. There was a single plane resting a few hundred yards away, right next to the tower that she assumed was for monitoring air  traffic. She turned to look back at the three suits making their way over to her. All of them had big stupid grins on their face, clearly impressed with what they were seeing. She gave a light smile back, to confirm that she was satisfied with the same thing, but not enough to make them think she was ecstatic or anything. Like she was.

"This is perfect!" The first one exclaimed. He was the one that had been sitting next to Kitty on the helicopter, with a big smile plastered across his face.

"It has everything we need!" The second one said excitedly.

"We could ev-

"Enough," Kitty said, putting a single hand up to cut off the youngest of the three boardrooms grunts. All three of them lost their shiny smiles immediately and looked at each other before straightening up, waiting for her to speak. She waited a moment for emphasis, letting the tension increase before turning to walk. She headed towards the grassy field near the runway, away from their helicopter. All three followed her, diligently. "Number One, you are in charge of the cast list. I want to see all approved applications and screenings, as well as all names offered up from the Coruscant Court System."

It was clear that she wasn't listing off things. She was actually calling one of them 'Number One.' He knew immediately that she was talking about him. "Yes, Ma'am!"

The blonde television personality came  to a halt in front of the field. She didn't actually step off of the tarmac, as she had heels on and didn't want to mess them up. But she was content looking out at the clear grassy plains in front of them. This airfield was in perfect position; right in the middle of nowhere. "Number Two. You're going to drop in all of the supplies and weapons. Some of them need to be really good, and the rest just randomly place things. Any questions?"

"No, Ma'am!" Came the expected response.

She took a moment to think about what her third request was. She would need someone to brief the host, but she could do that when she actually picked someone. Also, someone had to set up the streaming services around the island, to ensure the show was properly aired onto the Dataverse. But that was a task far too large for her youngest assistant, and she had experience in the network industry anyway, so she could handle that. There were other logistics to manage, but...

"M-Ma'am?" Her thoughts were interrupted by the stammering voice of Number Three. She frowned, but was facing away from them so the boy couldn't see it. "What shall I do?"

Annoyed at his intrusion to her thought process, she turned around towards them. All of them grimaced and tensed as they saw the unhappiness in her spectacled face. She grunted as she stormed past them, heels are all. "Just get me a coffee," she demanded. "Get to work!" The last words were very clearly to all three of them.

Immediately, all three scampered away. The first two of her assistants, both seemingly competent and older, had clear paths of where to go: the airplane down the runway and the tower near it. The third had no idea where he was going to get her very specific brand of coffee on this strange island, so he just kind of ran in a random direction. Kitty climbed up onto the helicopter once more, with the help of the military man from earlier.

"Take me back to the office," she said aloud. Even though there were three men in tan camouflage around her, she wasn't speaking to anyone in particular. The two in the cockpit of the helicopter immediately to go to work in getting the vehicle operational. The third one began to strap her safely back into her seat and then climbed back up. She appreciated the silent obedience of these men. They were clearly well trained. Or properly brainwashed. She didn't ask questions. It wasn't important. They didn't even bother to ask what she intention was with her executive assistants, that were left there on the airfield. The helicopter just raised up into the air and began to head towards the east. Now that she had confirmed the island was in fact exactly what she needed it to be, she was ready to go work on the technical side. She planned in her head to send more and more crew to get work on creating her vision. A real competition show for the combat enthusiants in the Omniverse. A 'real' reality show. Nothing like the nonsense on the other frequencies of the Dataverse.

Kitty Korlac had made television programs before. She had created an entire subscription network on the Dataverse, practically from the ground up. But there was all kid stuff compared to this. She was jumping into an already existing genre of programming and was making it better. It was a whole new format. A completely original idea. Well, okay, not original. But it was a good idea.

Fifty competitors would land on her island. Only one would survive on her Island of Survival.

The name could use some work, she thought.

[Blink]

"Is it a good idea to keep them all in the same room?" Dave Tucker looked a bit nervous as he looked through a large gymnasium-sized space alongside a confident blonde network executive. His eyes kept scanning around at the dozens of people occupying this large area. He knew that he wasn't in any immediate danger, but knowing exactly what kind of people he was sharing this room with made him think of the possibilities. He wanted to look like he was perfectly calm on his exterior, but he knew the tension was very clear. "What if they start the fighting early?"

"Don't worry, they all know the rules," Kitty Korlac responded. She smiled up at Dave, who was taller then her even when she was in heels. He had to struggle to look down straight at her face, and now beyond at the cleavage she was showing off through her low cut shirt. "Nobody here wants to lose a game before it even starts. Besides," she put her arm out to put emphasis on the crowd. "This is a great first introduction to the cast. Showing the different cliques. Showing who is studying, who is working out...who is afraid." She smiled big, despite the coldness of her words. "This is where people put on their first impressions. It'll matter."

"It also gives them a chance to strategize," Dave noted. An avid gamer himself, he had already thought about the possible gameplans someone would take in this situation.

Kitty gave him a smile and nodded in agreement. "Some of these people entered together. We've got squads, duos, single players. This is the perfect time to figure out how they're going to play."

Dave took a look out at the room in front of them. Both he and Kitty were situated near an entrance-way on one of the large walls, flanked on either side by her private military goons and some suck-ups in suits. There was also a single woman with a large camera (much larger then her) propped up on her shoulder, waiting to begin recording. In front of him was the 'crowd' she was referring to. These were to be the contestants on her show - the show he was going to be the on-screen host of. They had all voluntarily signed up, one way or another, to land on some mysterious battleground and fight it out on the live Dataverse. Some of them were conversing and being friendly around the many tables set up. Some were off to the side, alone and watching the room. A few were training, either physically or mentally. A couple were staring at Dave and Kitty curiously, waiting to see what they did.

Kitty began to walk forward, signalling Dave to follow. "We're going to start the shot in the center and then follow you as you talk," she told him. She was directing the scene he was about to do for the camera. "Talk about the event, what its about, and then put emphasis on the cast. Don't single anyone out, just try to talk about the group as a whole. Talk about them being volunteers, or them being in groups. Things like that."

The radio personality nodded his head along. He was more familiar with using his voice, but he wasn't new to camera-work, either. The nerves starting to fade as he got more into a business-minded mode. "How many people are in this thing?"

"About fifty," she answered as they walked. "Just say 'several dozen.' Keep it vague. We may or may not have exactly 50."

Tucker promised to himself not to say 'several dozen.' It sounded too formal, but he wasn't going to tell this scary blonde chick that. She wasn't going to be able to stop him mid-scene, anyway. He just nodded along and continued the conversation.  "When this thing start?"

"The website and commentary launches tonight, the game tomorrow night."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought of another question. "What's the prize?"

"Whatever they want." Kitty was very matter-of-fact.

"O...kay." Dave said in response. That was a strange answer. But he quickly thought of a way to spin it.

"You ready?" Kitty asked. Her host nodded and adjusted his t-shirt so the collar rode up his neck a bit, showing only a little bit of chest hair underneath. He adjusted the brim of his fisherman's hat, which was very unnecessary in this closed space. Kitty used her finger to signal her assistants to move out of the way, which Dave noted was surprisingly quick to happen. The camera-woman moved in place as she chewed her gun, clearly happy to get moving and working. "Alright, here we go."

"Recording in five, four, three..." the tiny female began to count with her fingers, showing a 'two' and then 'one' before pointing at Dave.

Dave Tucker suddenly transformed. His hands moved forward and pointed at the camera as he smiled excitedly. In his head, there was nobody around anymore. Kitty wasn't staring, and the cast members of Survival Island weren't pretending not to notice him. It was just him and the camera. He was in the zone. "Yo! What's up, guys? This is D-Tuck here! You got any idea where I am? No? Let me tell you! I'm in the secret lair of the one, the only..." he leaned in to whisper, trying to give an air of mystery before speaking. "Kitty Korlac!" He hissed the words out and then clapped happily. "She don't know me and the camera-guy are here, but I just had to give you guys a sneak peek at this new big thing hitting the Dataverse! They're calling it...wait for it, wait for it...Survival Island! And these people? These people right here? They're gonna be duking it out on that island, no holds barred!"

He put his hands out on either side and directed his attention to the room. For the first time since he walked in, he finally addressed the cast.

"Whose ready to fuck shit up, ladies and gentleman?" He got a half-heated response from some of the fighters there, mostly in the form of claps. "I can't hear you, folks!" This time he didn't just get claps from the crowd, but he got some people banging their boots on the floor, of their hands on a table. It was enough noise that he was satisfied and turned back to the camera. "You hear that? This is a room filled with killers, y'all! We got trained death squads lookin' for glory! We got sibling psychos lookin' for blood! We got criminals tryin' to earn their freedom! Some of these people are partners! Some of 'em hate each other! But you know what? None of that matters! Cause only one person will win!" He turned back to the crowd, throwing his hands back up. "Whose it gonna be?"

This time, he got his best response yet. Almost everyone in the crowd made some sort of noise, most of them cheering. There were very few people who remained completely quiet, staring intently at the scene in front of them. Kitty was smiling ear to ear. "D-Tuck" didn't notice any of this.

He pointed at the camera. "If you aren't subscribed to Kitty's Kontent, you better get there now. We got behind the scenes coming tonight, and in just a little of 24 hours..." he gave a big, wiry smile. "The games will begin. See. You. There! Peace!" He put two fingers up in a peace sign and held it there. The camera woman held her fingers up again, this time starting with three, and then gave a thumbs-up when she finished recording.

"Whew, good job!" Kitty clapped excitedly. She was worried she had made a mistake in choosing Mr. Tucker as a host, but he was surprisingly excellent in only one take in front of the camera. "Let's get out of here, we've got a show to get ready for."

D-Tuck was now gone, replaced once again with the mild-mannered, baggily dressed man known as Dave Tucker. He adjusted his shirt to fit correctly and pushed his hat back a bit on his head. He shrugged at her. "Sounds good." Outwardly, he was calm, but inwardly he was feeling nervous again. Too many eyes on him. Especially after that crowd involvement. Even still, he couldn't help but put that peace sign in the air one more time and say "Good luck, y'all!"

Kitty Korlac guided him towards the door, once again surrounded by her assistants yammering out compliments to her. The camera-woman hung back behind him, following quietly while lugging that heavy equipment like it was nothing. Dave just kept his eyes forward, ignoring any calling or comments from the cast. They would get their time later...he didn't want to know them now. He wanted to learn about that on the show, with everyone else.

Dave looked over his shoulder one last time at the crowd of participants, and then the door shut behind him. The next time he saw them, the game would be on.

[Blink]

The inside of the plane was stuffy, but Dave Tucker was keeping it together. He was standing near the front of the plane, facing away from the rear so the fifty-ish cast members of Survival Island were all behind him. In front of him was a camera-woman with her equipment draped over her shoulder, nearly as big as she was. Because of the wind the plane had generating, he had his bucket-hat wrapped around his neck, allowing his dark hair to be exposed. For now, he was focusing on the words he was going to be saying soon, as opposed to what was actually happening around him.

Around him were many different bodies, all lined up along the length of plane's interior, sitting on an uncomfortable bench. Each of them had a backpack and goggles. Most of them were sitting stoic, not looking phased at the least. Some were glaring around in an attempt to look intimidating. Some looked scared out of their mind. Understandable, considering they were thousands of feet above the ground that would serve as the battleground for this violent game they were going to play.

The intercom came to life with the voice of the pilot. "T-Minus thirty seconds to airtime, forty-five seconds to drop window."

Dave nodded, mainly to himself. His camera-guru nodded back at him as they communicated silently. His eyes glances up at the red light behind her, which turned yellow almost as soon as his eyes rested on it. "Alright, showtime, y'all!" He shouted down the length of the plane. Even with all the noise around them as the plane screamed through the sky, his voice still carried all the way to the back of it. "Good luck!"

When his eyes focused on the camera, the female under it began to count down with her hand, starting with five. Four. Three. Two. Showtime.

"Yo, whaddup Omniverse, its your boy D-Tuck up here above Survival Island! Behind me right now are about fifty of the baddest mofos in the verses, about to fight it out for your entertainment and their glory!" He held tightly with one hand onto a rope that was secured to the plane's ceiling, while waving his other one frantically to emphasize his words. "These folks have been told the rules, given a map and now in a few seconds, they're about to jump out this plane and land somewhere on Survival Island. Some of these guys came in with teams, partners, enemies, family...but in the end, only one of them is gonna be standing tall at the end and crown themselves champion!" The yellow light in front of him turned bright green. It was time. "Alright folks!" He screamed back at the cast, "You got thirty seconds to get the hell outta this plane! Go go go!"

Almost immediately, several bodies disappeared. D-Tuck led his camera-person down the single aisle so it was clear to the audience what was happening. The fighters all had a watch on one of their wrists, which showed exactly where they were on the island. Using this, they were able to pinpoint exactly when to pull lever by their seat, which briefly opened up the wall behind them and send them flying out of the plane. Well, falling out of the plane.

"Now this moment is critical, y'all," D-Tuck was explaining to the camera. He pointed to the windows, specifically at several parachutes opening up to show many of the players safely heading towards the island. "These guys need to choose exactly when to jump. Do they want to land in the woods, away from all the trouble? Do they want to drop in a town, where all the goodies are? Plus! If they got an alliance going on, they need to land close to their buddies and far away from anyone else." As he talked, more and more people were dropping out of the plane. By the time he and the camera were looking down the plane's aisle, only a handful were left, waiting to pull their levers.

"T-Minus ten seconds until drop zone ends," warned the intercom.

"That means if you don't pull that lever soon, you will be dropped automatically!" D-Tuck translated for the pilot. There were only a few bodies left at that point, and one by one they began to drop from the plane. At the end of the ten seconds, only one single person in a flight suit was left. A loud beeping noise emitted from the speaker system, and then that last contestant was left soaring into the wild blue sky. The television host turned to the camera and spoke right into it. "The game is on, y'all! Keep it right here on Kitty's Kontent for live updates, commentary from your's truly, and all the gruesome, wild action! Yea baby!"

He held his pose for a moment, until the camera-woman put her fingers up to signal she was done streaming the broadcast. In a flash, Dave Tucker dropped down onto one of the seated, letting out a sigh of relief. That was a thrilling shot to make, but damn if he wasn't stressed watching all those people skydiving out of a plane. Especially considering their destination.

"You good?" The camera-girl asked. Dave looked up. It was first time he actually got to speak to his partner in broadcasting. She was a lanky Asian girl, but clearly had some strength if she could keep that camera up for so long without budging. She just blinked at him, awaiting a response. "What now?"

Dave took a look out of the window, glancing down at the island. The plane was turning around in order to do a pass over the action, and then headed over to the offices that the staff would call home. He was able to get a very clear shot of the previously uninhabited verse in all of its creepy glory. "Now we head back to to the studio and watch the show." He looked up at her and gave a slight smile. One that showed a little bit of his on-screen persona creeping through as he said: "Its gonna be a good one."

[Blink]

Kilo Hutter had never been skydiving before. He wasn't entirely prepared for how exhilarating it would be at first. It was terrifying, to a point that he had almost forgotten he had a backpack on which held his parachute. His dreadlocks were frantically waving behind his head, fastened slightly by the tight band of his goggles around him. The rush of wind around him reminded him of what was going on: he wasn't out for a leisurely drop through the air. He was actually starting a crazy death game show by choosing exactly where he wanted to land on this "Survival Island." With that frame of focus in mind, he tilted his body downward to increase speed, knowing exactly what his target was: A town of empty houses known as Vakaville. 

He hummed a beat in his head as he kept his eyes on the prize: the huge collection of homes underneath him and the rooftop he was aiming for. He recalled one of the lines from the rulebook he was given at the beginning of the journey, which stated 'The larger the town, the better the loot.' Since this was by far the biggest city, he knew the best chances of finding proper gear and weapons was right here. Of course, it meant others might attempt it too, but he felt that the town was large enough that he'd be able to lose people fast enough. After all, running fast was what he was good at.

Kilo wasn't his real name, but rather a nickname he got for the speed in which he could complete a 'kilometer.' To say he was the fastest to do it would be an understatement. It his original world, before the Omniverse had summoned him as a 'lesser' member of its population, he had the record for running the 'kilo' by well over twice as fast as second place. Getting away from enemies would not be a problem.

Even now, he was the closest to the ground. With this in mind, he pulled the string on his backpack, which he had been clutching tightly, setting off the parachute. The 'oomph' of the chute was much more powerful then he anticipated, feeling as if he was being yanked back on the sky. As the parachute settled, he began to aim himself towards a suitable rooftop. He took a moment to look up, to see how everyone else was doing. The sight was not good. "Oh, shit," he whispered to himself, eyes bulging behind his goggles.

The dark-skinned sprinter could clearly see several parachutes above him. They weren't just floating in the same direction he was, but rather seemed to be coordinated enough to stay a certain distance from each other too. It did not look good. He felt like was being stalked. Hunted.

He looked down at the ground with just enough time to prepare himself for landing. He brought his legs up and tensed his muscles, then landed perfectly on his feet before stepping forward several times to control his speed. Before he got to the end of the long rooftop, he was able to completely halt himself and come to a stop. Without thinking, he immediately yanked his backpack off of his back, letting the parachute settle behind him. He took a moment to watch as the other parachutes were heading towards their own rooftops, and then quickly ran to the side of the building. Fortunately, there was stairs leading down on a metal platform attached to the side, and he quickly utilized them, several steps at a time.

At the bottom of the stairs, Kilo ran across the street he found himself on and towards a single house. He could see one of the people landing on a rooftop nearby, so he didn't stop to wave at all. Instead, he slammed his way through the front door of the tiny home and then shut it behind him. He glanced out of the long window that ran alongside the length of the doorframe, trying to get an idea of where he was. The building he had landed on, right across the street, seemed to be a store. He cursed himself, thinking that would have been a better place to go into, but it was too late now. He wasn't going to run back over there right now. Now as everyone started to land.

He took a breath, realizing he had a moment. He realized that his legs were weak after that landing and run, not to mention the mental exhaustion of the game's start. Kilo settled onto a chair in the home's living room and reflected. He was here now. He was in the game. This is what he wanted. That excitement again. Being stuck as just another cog-in-the-wheel in Coruscant was not what he had signed up for. He had been summoned to the city to run, but they never actually let him. He just worked. But now he could do something real and have it matter. This was perfect.

After thinking about why he was  there, Kilo realized quickly he was wasting time. He got off the comfy seat and took a look at the kitchen right behind him. Sure enough, just as advertised, were several useful supplies laid there for him to snag. He first grabbed a single metallic pistol that was sitting in the center of the floor, along with two 12-bullet magazines in a belt he could wrap around himself. He holstered the pistol in the belt, then pocketed some bandages and an energy drink into his coat pocket. He moved to step out of the kitchen through a different entry-way, intending to find a backpack, but was quickly distracted.

"Help! Help!" Came a screaming voice. His ears perked as he looked towards the door. His eyes bulged as he realized the voice was getting louder. "Heeeeellllpppp!" Suddenly, the front door bursted open and a lone man stumbled in, slamming the door behind him. He dropped his back against it, sighed, and then noticed Kilo in front of him. "Oh, just great!"

Kilo had his pistol up in front of him fast enough to impress himself. He gripped it around the handle and underneath the magazine. The man's eyes were big, hands waving in front of him to signal he was non-violent. "Get out." Kilo warned.

"I can't, they're right behind me!" The man hissed/pleaded.

"Then you're leading them to me, you idiot." Kilo clicked the safety off on his gun. "If they're coming in already, I can just leave you to 'em."

It looked like the stranger was about to answer, but was cut off as suddenly gunshots began to go off, very very close. Both Kilo and the man dropped to the floor as the window right next to the entrance blasted inwards, followed by bullet-holes appearing in the front door shortly after. Someone was firing something that wasn't automatic, like the very pistol Kilo was holding. "Is there a backdoor to this place?" The stranger asked, crawling forward towards Kilo.

Still distrusting but realizing the seriousness of the situation, Kilo nodded and stumbled back onto his feet, using the wall behind him as a crutch to raise up. "I still can't believe you freakin' walked them right up to me!" The jogger hissed out as he turned to the backdoor, at the end of the hallway.

"I didn't know you were in here!" The man shot back, clearly just as annoyed.

Once at the backdoor, Kilo moved out of the way and nudged the man towards the exit. "You first," he told him, gripping the pistol. They were in the same situation now, and shooting this fool would only give away the fact he had a weapon at all. He would have to at least get out of this house with this guy hopefully distracting whoever was chasing him, while Kilo got away.

The man seemed to take a moment to mentally prepare himself for the sprint. Kilo was sure he could outright this dude, who was about as generic a white guy they make 'em. The scared man ran forward, opened the backdoor as he want, and then sprinted into the backyard. Kilo moved behind him, out of the house and-

Thud.

Something hit Kilo in the back of the head so far that he briefly lost his sight. It didn't go completely black, but it went blurry so fast that he wasn't sure he was even still awake. Once his vision returned, he realized he was on the patio of the house, face down on the wooden floor. He blinked as he tried to raise up, but a metallic sensation touched the back of his head. A gun. He was set up.

Kilo Hutter looked up as much as the pressure on the back of his dreadlocked head would let him. Two figured appeared on either side of him, one male and one female. They both had hockey masks on, with different colors, one very dark and the other bright pink. He could see another man in the backyard, holding a long-barrelled shotgun over his shoulder. This one had a dark blue mask on his face. "Damn, Red, I know you said that you'd get him to come out, but I didn't think it'd be that quick."

That was when Kilo focused his eyes on the 'stranger.' He was facing away from him at first, but only because he was putting something that 'Blue' handed him up against his face. When he turned around, the man that had tricked him into leaving his own shelter was wearing a single red hockey mask. It might seem tacky to compare it, but blood was the only color pallet that Kilo could match it to. It was dark. Kilo didn't get to turn around to see, but he was sure whoever was holding him at gunpoint had a mask on too.

"You motherfucker." Kilo spat at the man in red, but really was  speaking to the whole group. This was just unfair.

There was a very brief moment where the man in the crimson mask just stared coldly through his metallic face at the professional sprinter. There didn't seem to be any emotion anymore. No anger or fear. All Kilo could get from the man was that he was very, very clearly a professional at this.

"Shoot him," Red said.

There was a loud bang for a split second, and then nothing. All of the watches, including the one around Kilo's suddenly limp body, beeped and read '49 Alive.'

[Blink]

It took some effort for Josh Hernandez to avoid hitting the tall tree in front of him on the way down towards the island. He hadn't been paying attention for a few too many moments after jumping from the plane, and had found his parachuting destination was right in line with a giant oak smack dab in the middle of a forest. He panicked upon realizing it, jolting his parachute to the left, but it was no good. His body missed the trunk of the giant tree, but the cords of his parachute wrapped right into the branches and caused him to be yanked backwards. "Shit!" he cursed as his shoulders was pulled violently by the backpack that housed his parachute. Almost immediately, his face collided with a branch right in front of him.

The dark-skinned man did his best to shift out of the way of another branch on his way down, but it only caused him to slide an arm from the backpack, which was the only thing keeping him up. Soon, he was hanging by his hands from the straps of the pack, which itself was being up by the parachute wrapped up in this tree. Against his initial judgement, he looked down to see exactly how far he was above the island. That was a mistake.

Josh again panicked, which was something he was good at. That's what he did when he was confronted with being the driver for a bank heist in Corscant. That's what he did when the stormtroopers came after him during the getaway. That's what he did when he was jumped in jail. That's what he did when being pushed into joining this show, knowing the alternative was to rot away.

And so, panic he did once again. The movement of his body caused the strap of the backpack to give away, causing Josh Hernandez to fall backwards from the tippy top of the tallest tree on Survival Island. He was looking up, so all he could see from the parachute up in the branches as it fell farther and farther from view.

Down on the ground, there was nobody to witness as the unfortunate start to Josh's game was also the unfortunate end. His body collided back-first with the ground and he died instantly, mere minutes after his game began.

[Blink]

The small town of Shepan was located on the north-eastern tip of Survival Island. What attracted the young girl known as Crow Leonth to it was that it was the smallest of the towns and thus would likely attract less people to it and give her the largest chance for good loot. Unfortunately, as soon as the red-haired girl landed on the southern part of town, she realized this she was very wrong. Multiple parachutes were hovering over her, all on separate bee-lines for Shepan with the same intention of gathering as many supplies as they could.

After dislodging herself from the backpack that housed the parachute, Crow quickly bolted towards the building that was the most southern of the otherwise northern town. It was also a little out of the way, which she hoped would help in identifying people heading towards it. The town was congested, so it would be difficult to see people sneaking up on her, but this little farmhouse was surrounded by a field, which would give her an advantage on approaching players.

Crow made her way into the house and shut the door behind her. She was happy to see a glistening piece of metal resting on the table of the kitchen right in front of her. She put the holster on next to it, and then pocketed the gun into it. There was a backpack next to it, which she quickly began to stuff with the various items that were placed for her to find: bandages, energy drinks and some ammo for the gun.

The young woman turned her attention towards the northern window of the home, towards the town of Shepan. She could see movement in the street, but they didn't seem to notice her or the house she was in. They were obviously scavenging for supplies themselves.

She took a moment to look at the watch on her wrist, which could tell her where she was and how she was doing. The map didn't surprise her; she was exactly where she expected. What did surprise her was the fact that it read '48 Alive,' when she clicked the 'Survivor' button, which meant two people had already been eliminated. Her landing was a bit unlucky, but apparently not the least lucky. She was good at that: edging the barrier between bad odds and good odds. She always seemed to make it work, even in the worst situations. That was a strong reason as to why she was here to begin with.

Once a common thief that peddled small change out of rich people's pockets in her original universe, she had graduated to more expensive taste in the Omniverse. Despite being just barely out of her teen years, she had become out of the most well-known pickpockets in Coruscant, almost to her disadvantage. Though thievery was definitely her forte, she wasn't opposed to doing what she needed to do to survive. That was what led her to jail, and to this 'opportunity' for freedom. But there was more then freedom waiting on this island. There was revenge to be had.

Before she could get too lost in the thought of what her mission was, the door on the south end of the house suddenly smashed inwards. Crow spun around, realizing she was only focusing on the town-side entrance, and left herself vulnerable. Her brown eyes bulged as a topless male figure appeared, wielding a single knife in one hand, and made eye contact with her. He had cut-scars all over his body, and had a very evil grin across his mousey face. "Well, hello there," he smirked at her.

She reacted instantly, moving to pull her pistol from its holster. She instantly regretted not practicing more, as she didn't 'unlock' the holster by pushing down on the gun first, which caused it to get stuck. The scarred intruder rushed forward through the open living room and into the kitchen, waving the knife frantically. Crow might not have had her pistol, but she did have her wits, which was enough to rush out of the way.

"Oh, come on now, there's no way out," the bald, pale man grinned at her. He was enjoying the chase. He stepped towards her as she  continues to fumble with her gun. She was slinking backwards on her butt across the kitchen tile as he stalked her. "You get the honor of being my first. Not my last, I assure you. But the first is always special."

Crow Leonth felt very small. She was used to having control in these situations, but she was caught off guard. This guy clearly had a thing for targeting weaker prey. She didn't enjoy the feeling of being a target. But she had no other weapons aside from the single gun trapped in the locked holster at her waist, so she had to be smart. She'd have to run. She lept up and made a bee-line for the backdoor, but the man jumped at her and  grabbed her arm. She put her weight on one heel and kicked with her back leg, hitting the guy right in his stomach (she aimed a little too high), sending him stumbling back. It was the break in contact she needed to run right through the door she originally entered in, back into the field outside Shepan.

"Come back, little bird, we're not done yet!" The creep called at her. There was a moment when he said 'bird' that she wasn't sure if he knew her or just called all girls that. She stumbled forward onto the dirt, feeling annoyingly like a damsel, and then up onto her feet. She spun around just in time to see the crazy Knife-Man appear at the door frame. Then heard a sound that was almost like a WHOOSH and a THUD! A single arrow stuck out of the side of the man's neck, just under his shocked face. As he choked on the metallic-looking object in his throat, blood started to pour from his mouth and cover his pale chin. She dropped his knife first, and then his weight. He landed knee-first, and then forward onto his face.

Crow looked over to see a muscular black man with a crossbow up against his shoulder, having been aiming it at the door. He had a goatee and a short cut on his head. He lowered his weapon to turn towards her. Suddenly, his eyes got big as Crow raised her pistol up towards him.

"Look out!" She screamed her first words in the entire game. The dark man ducked on instinct. With the movement of an expert that she couldn't summon earlier, she pulled the pistol out of its unruly holster and fired two loud gunshots. One shot cracked into the corner of the house, but the second one hit center mass. There had been a man looking to jab a javelin right into the back of her savior, but she connected with a perfectly-aimed shot to his chest and sent him reeling back.

When the Crossbow-Guy realized she had saved him (moments after saving her), he looked from the shot body back to her. She was clearly shaking but trying her best to look tough. "Thanks for that," he said in a surprisingly British accent.

"You're welcome." She stammered.

"I saved you, you saved me, so I think we're clearly not lookin' to kill each other," he explained to her. "There's a beach house close by here, away from the town. Let's go there and figure this out."

She nodded. Her instinct was not to trust this guy, but she felt like if he was going to attack her, he would have let her get killed earlier. "Alright."

"I'm Eddie," he introduced as he walked up to her. He held his hand out. "You?"

"Crow," she responded, shaking the hand.

"Alright, 'Crow'," he emphasized it, as if he was saying a nickname and not believing it to be her given one. "Let's get moving and we'll hash this out."

Crow followed Eddie towards the east, away from the house and the town. They didn't need to check the body of the pale, scarred knife-guy, because he was shot in the neck with a crossbow bolt (which Eddie recovered), and was clearly dead. They should have checked the second body, though. Because if they had, they would have realized that the man formerl known was Number Three, an executive assistant to the one and only Kitty Korlac, had been wearing body armor. As soon as both Crow and Eddie disappeared from the area, he sat up and let out a gasp of air, still clearly alive.