[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/MJO2qSh.png[/img]
[h2][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_uNMy20qAI]Working hard, or hardly working?[/url][/h2][/center]

Lauren wasn't particularly hungry after the twin punches of lunch and Estelle's cupcakes, but nevertheless, the mangoes in the simulation left her curious. The first thing she had done after getting off the life rafts, besides cursing that cocksucker Ben for jinxing her last night with the swimming joke, was go digging around in the foliage that hugged the beach. If there's one thing she knew about the tropics, it was the cuisine; sure enough, it had taken her only half of Estelle's briefing to find a pair of fruits, and now here she was, listening to the Survival professor's instructions.

Idly juggling her mangoes.

[color=8882be][i]3:45, huh?[/i][/color]

So, for the second half of Estelle's little halftime show, she had taken to watching the group with curiosity to see what they would do. It was kind of sad. What Estelle said about accelerated time had stuck with her; there was no telling when the hell the airship would actually come around, or how far a monsoon would come after that. The more people got lost in the forest, the more people would be fucked when the doomsday clock ticked 5 PM. Seems like a lot of these motherfuckers got their survival ideas from such acclaimed how-to guides as [i]Cast Away,[/i] [i]LOST,[/i] and [i]that dumb book in fourth grade about the lil motherfucker with the thot mom.[/i]

Fourth grade was one of the years she skipped, so the book's title escaped her. 

Bored, Lauren sighed and took her hatchet to one of the pieces of fruit. 

[color=8882be][i]Seriously, this is some red pill blue pill shit.[/i][/color]

If she bit into this mango, would she taste mango? Would she taste nothing? Had whoever designed the simulation thought that far ahead? These were the questions that she was banking on good answers to. Inspector Negasi was about to see if this state of the art simulation was certifiably nigga-proofed.

All she needed, she opined as she looked at the small, rectangular shape that was wrapped up in her jacket, was another woman at the trigger.

Lauren lay back in the sand calmly, letting the smooth dark skin revealed by her makeshift crop top bake in the simulated hot sun for a few seconds and staring up at the clear blue sky. In her head, she was already making her selection. That cute angry bitch who Luke was always palling around with. The three of them had Armory together. She seemed cold enough.

[color=8882be]"Hey-o on the frog! Fuck, uh...Grat! Hey-yo Grat! Word of prayer time."[/color]

She gestured expansively at the sand on the beach around her, as if it were hers to give.