Fabricant451 — Roleplayer Guild

Teacher's Lounge

Boy, this particular group was all over the place; if Elliot had been forced to do a group project with them she figured nothing would get done or else she would put together the tri-fold poster board and everyone else would argue over whether or not the font choice was stupid or not. It was easy to shoot down an idea - especially when you both had no counter idea and no real reasoning behind it other than saying it's a stupid idea - but Elliot's opinion on certain peers in the lounge was declining despite barely knowing any of them. No one in the lounge ran in the circles she ran in, and no doubt they probably made their assumptions about her from the moment she punched the vending machine. The only ones Elliot didn't think was missing the forest for the trees were Fitz and Kaylee and the two Alex's; one of them at least came up with a better plan than 'bitch at people wanting something to defend themselves' and the other could draw maps. Or a map. Helpful, to say the least. 

Though a quarter was handed to her - with an appreciative nod from Elliot to Alex - she had a moment's pause as Fitz' remark seemed to stick with her. Not the crack about them not being able to get to a car, but moreso the state of the school. Despite Elliot's grades, it wasn't as if she spent an extreme amount of time at school, other than after school detentions, so the finer points of its design weren't something she was familiar with. "Hold up, you said lockdown?" Elliot turned her attention away from the trashbin girl to Fitz. Elliot might've been smart but that didn't mean she listened much when the adults were talking about safety measures and whatnot. "We can't get out and that sucks, but doesn't that also mean that more can't get in? Not exactly great news, but if anyone's got a yearbook layin' around that could at least give us a rough estimate as to the numbers, though we can probably assume in some bathroom or classroom there's another group of people arguin' if taking the legs off of desks is a good idea or not." Elliot Springfield, ever the optimist.

"There's just one issue with the cafeteria idea - which, I mean, a change of location is solid - and that's the fact that the cafeteria is bigger than the lounge which means we have no way of knowing how many are in there, if any, and we'd have to protect it, right? It might be a good option, but not if we don't have something to put between us and them. Hence..." Elliot gestured towards the table like she was presenting a prize on The Price is Right, the finest in programming for the discerning individual who was ditching school. 

"It's not like we're suggesting we play baseball with the fuckin' things - the creepers being the ball - that's stupid. But when all you've got is a blunt object made of sheet steel, that's better than offering your arm for the taking. Some of ya'll are scared or whatever, but we can't stay here forever. If you're scared, use it. Not to get into a science lesson but fear and adrenaline and fight-or-flight are kinda connected, and I'm not sayin' we fight. I don't know any of you particularly well but like it or not we're in this together right now, and I'm not particularly keen on losin' anyone."

"You don't have to like me or anyone else, but the way I see it, so long as we're all here, we're all responsible for one another."

Somehow, Elliot figured the response would be the collective people in the lounge calling her an idiot. Whatever, she'd been called worse. But from where she was standing, this was essentially a super serious group project where instead of pass or fail it was life or death - and Elliot was not someone who liked to fail group projects.
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