fandomhighdorms | Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

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Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

"The fire drill last week had a good premise," Arthur began, as soon as everyone had gathered. Even if he'd disagreed with the execution of it. "We'll continue mapping out the island today, although our current task is far more simple. In the event of a sudden attack, we must be aware of the easiest and quickest trails leading to a gathering point or a way of getting off the island. When the alligators invaded, many of us met up at the park - that's one location. There are only two ways off the island: either by boat from the docks, or by causeway. I'd like you all to go to one of these three locations by use of the route that seems fastest to you. Then return to us, and we'll compare exit strategies."

Leto had managed to acquire copies of a map of the island. "These might be helpful when you decide on a route, and will enable you to communicate your choice with precision to everyone else." He held the maps up, and offered everyone to take one.

He nodded at Leto once, then turned back to those gathered. "In case of another invasion, we should meet in the park if the threat is dispersed, or at the gates when it seems to be more cohesive. That way, we'll be able to coordinate our strategy accordingly." He nodded at ~~shamelessly modded~~ Zack as well, and let the exercise commence.

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! ]]

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"How gallant," Triela snorted as she kept pace with him, dodging the occasional rooftop obstruction.

"It's part of my charm," he said, flipping through the air to land on the next roof's chimney.

Flips weren't really Triela's style. And while she had a lot of raw power, elegance wasn't really part of her usual movement patterns. She landed with a heavy thump next to the chimney.

"Good thing something about you's charming."

Ben grinned and dropped lightly off the roof and onto the street below.

Triela took a running leap from the roof, covering thirty or forty feet in a long arc before she slammed into the street ahead of Ben. Of course she then had to take a moment to regain her balance before she could start running again.

"You don't do a lot of sneaking, do you?" Ben commented.

"I do plenty of sneaking," Triela answered. "You have to get to the doors you're going to kick down somehow, after all."

Which was how most of her missions went: sneak right up until it was time to actually get started. Then all the gunfire and yelling made it pointless.

And Ben was too nice a kid to mention a girl's weight issue. "Kicking down a door is kind of the opposite of sneaking," he said, sprinting down the road.

"True, but making sure that they don't have any warning that you're about to kick down their door involves a lot of sneaking.

In a straight sprint, without the need to change direction, Triela's mass didn't really work against her so it wasn't too hard to keep up the pace.

Ben flipped off of a set of stairs to turn a corner. "But isn't it better to leave the door intact? Or do you want everyone to know you've been there?"

Triela took the same corner by simply slamming shoulder first into a wall to stop her forward momentum. It meant she had to rebuild it all from scratch, but she could do that.

"Covert's not as much fun," Triela suggested. And while she was actually pretty good at it, cover wasn't her specialty either. Most of the girls at the Agency were almost as good at it as she was, after all.

"It's not supposed to be fun," Ben said, sounding appalled.

She took a moment to glance over at him. "You're having fun now, right?" She wasn't entirely sure how doing the same sort of stuff in the field was any different.

"This isn't for real," Ben said.

"What's the difference?" Her tone is conversational, curious even.

Ben almost ran smack into a wall. "I'm not dodging blaster fire, for one," he said.

"I suppose there's that," she allowed as she glanced over at him. "Careful there."

"And I'm not thinking about killing anyone," Ben replied.

"What's to think about?" Triela asked casually as she planted a leaped up onto the edge of a dumpster to throw herself over a fence. In her world it was simple: you killed people. Nothing to think about, really.

Ben stared. "You're killing someone."

Triela didn't break stride, but did slow down a bit to look over at him with a frown. "On orders."

Because that made it all okay.

"Because that makes it okay?" Ben demanded.

"Someone has to decide when the bad guys need to die." Triela shrugged without changing her running pattern. "And it can't be the people pulling the triggers." It couldn't be the weapons.

"Sure it can," Ben declared vehemently. "We're the ones who have to live with it."

Triela shook her head. "It's too dangerous to let a weapon decide what it's aimed at."

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