<div class="floatleft">(http://s29.postimg.org/px60wtxxj/rsz_176095_far_cry_instincts_predator_xbox_360_s.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jack Carver</span><br/><strong>Game:</strong>Far Cry: Instincts - Predator<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Jan 18th, 0900<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Killzone<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Tingle, Shanoa, Sheva, Rose(glared at)<br/><strong>Mentioned:</strong>All<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The little penguin thing had a habit of saying 'dude', or 'dood', that in some way grated on Jack's nerves. Wondering if it was a verbal tick or if he was actually aware of every single time he chose to say that word. In the end it didn't matter, as it had the same effect. With a group of people, two of which were tiny, one of those two being non-human, Jack wondered just what kind of actions warranted being on the Wall of Shame. And whether he'd get to see additions soon. Make no mistake, he didn't have it out for anyone in particular...but he did question the ability of his teammates. As he was wont to do on sheer principle, because if he didn't know what they could do, they'd be liabilities. That shit got you killed faster than actual enemies did. And everyone seemed to tread the usual lines when it came to introductions. He was not going to talk about Prinny's, period. A couple of others were believing that they could not "sit by" and allow the Mugen Virus to spread. They didn't necessarily have to join a concentrated effort if that was their stance on it. Some others were, it seemed, just not taking the boot camp seriously or were occupied with doing something else. He could tell Mario had his eyes on certain female body parts, and Dante didn't even make his motives subtle. Jack's golden eyes flicked from one person to the next, locking onto Rose briefly. Her response was minor and revealed the least out of everyone, but it was one he could like. A little step above the Protagonists who sounded so patriotic they'd bleed the proper colors on the flags of their respective world/countries, just so the patterns could stay preserved. Respectful, heroic? Oh yes, undeniably so. But it told him next to nothing about them. Other than that their blood might not be red.<br/><br/>His gaze dismissed her after that. Moving on...<br/><br/>As expected, the KIs revealed that names meant little or nothing to them. Earning a sneer from Jack as this was<em>exactly</em>what he was expecting--you had to earn your name here, it didn't matter what you had done in the past. Newcomers were equal among each other, and no one would get special treatment, nor should they expect any. Honestly, were he an instructor, Jack would have done this the exact same, and silently, he appreciated not feeling special, in a roundabout ironic way. That didn't mean he was kissing ass. No, it just meant he was on the same page. And eager to get this chapter behind him, relatively quick before anyone could fuck up and make a bad situation worse. Too late though, he heard Mario cheering at the team composition as Tingle wasn't placed on his team, but Jack's. The part-feral operative was not sure how to feel about this. Biting back a snarky reply he could have made, Jack instead backed away from the overweight little guy like everybody else was, face betraying only a fraction of his disgust. The full version would have disintegrated any notion of this team actually becoming a team. He'd been dealt what looked like a weak hand--they would have to deal with it unless the little one could prove himself to be helpful.<br/><br/>Cammy was right, they weren't ready at all, not even close. He knew not to judge off of appearances alone, that's how he got this far in the first place. As<em>ridiculous</em>as her outfit looked to him--Seriously, she was camel-toeing like a<em>God</em>--he didn't allow it to fool him; and her firm, milky-white ass-cheeks, while appealing, wouldn't help him that much out here. Shanoa and Sheva's respective asses wouldn't help either, so he paid those body parts no mind. The two women had better be as good as they let on, because they'd need to be great to make up for the shortcomings. He shot appraising glares at both of them, staring eye-to-eye with those golden, disturbing irises of his, and it was pretty clear what he was thinking--he was probably one of the few men here who<em>wasn't</em>leering at them, but judging them on another level. They were both attractive, no doubt, but there was a time and a place for that--and if they fucked up, there would not<em>be</em>a time and place, due to everyone getting packed up and tossed back to their homeworlds to sit this war out.<br/><br/>Some Protagonists really needed to be sent back, though. They would do less harm that way.<br/><br/>Tingle picked up one of the guns, one Jack recognized as a 9mm pistol from his world, fitted with a suppressor. It was clear that the little shit didn't know what the weapon was, from the way he held it and inspected it without even a hint of common knowledge. Jack started toward him, about to growl an order that the little one would find in his best interests to follow (they didn't have rank, but Jack was far bigger, angrier and more threatening when he wanted to be).<br/><br/>But then Tingle threw the gun.<br/><br/><em>He....threw it.</em><br/><br/>With the safety off.<br/><br/>There was a moment where Jack stared flatly,<em>actual surprise</em>on his features, before he ducked on reflex just as the gun misfired on the ground, a quiet crack of gunfire. He didn't care if anyone found this amusing--you do not disrespect the dangers a gun posed. The moment you do, was the moment where someone eats a bullet that you didn't want to. If this had been done anywhere else, Jack would have thrown the fucking midget fifty feet away for doing something so mind-bendingly<em>stupid</em>, even if he didn't know what a gun was. Don't pick up things you aren't familiar with, they're clearly for someone else. When he rose back to his full height, the others could see the sudden contained rage being held back as he strode over and scooped the pistol up from the ground, and went to calmly collect his weapons. He didn't speak a word for a very long time, instead allowing Shanoa to offer advice that had a great lack of expletives. Then he snarled. "Do that again, you little shit..." He said, disturbingly calm. "And I'll break your fucking fingers. And if someone gets shot because of you, I'll bury you six feet under on the spot." He found his butterfly knife, an assault rifle, and four pipe bombs. Realizing he was glad that none of the other weapons had been under Tingle's attention. He assembled and donned his armor, and equipped the weapons--fast, with more than half the time to spare. He wasn't new at this, and had experience. You learn quickly when you're in training, and you learn to do it even faster on an island like Jacutan, where everyone is out to kill you and your allies are in a quantity you can count on one hand.<br/><br/>The group returned to Cole and Price. Jack resumed his silence, but peered over at Shanoa briefly. While she seemed competent, her approach to handling Tingle might be risky. Especially if she was going to try to cover for him in the worst of situations. There could be a point where the little fat fucker does something totally out of line, and the team might face considerable injuries trying to get to him. There comes a point where you can't defend against stupid, and it becomes a choice between backing off, versus facing certain death trying to be a hero. As far as the sim went, for all Jack knew, losing a single team member could mean instant failure for everyone. So while he currently despised Tingle for his foolishness, he was still going to look out for him. They were on the same team, so they would have to stay that way. For now.<br/><br/>The horn in the distance blared. Showtime. Jack kept his assault rifle at the ready, looked over at the others...and saw Tingle immediately rolling forwards in a panic as he'd just tripped. "Fuck." Carver stared up at the sky for two seconds, and his shoulders visibly slumped. He was already wondering how in the living<em>fuck</em>he was going to keep all of this going together. Shanoa had gone after Tingle in an effort to rescue him, and might be taking injuries precisely because of him. Jack was taking refuge behind an appropriate chest-high wall, and already giving covering fire for the two allies before Shanoa had even called out for it. "Fucking moron," he growled about Tingle. He was now considered a wild card, a natural hazard that they would have to either allow to run its course, or shut down before anything else could happen. He didn't care if Sheva heard him and had something contradictory to say about it...the issues everyone already saw, would speak for themselves.<br/><br/>He saw Shanoa take Tingle into an alleyway and roared at her, making a gesture with his fist that imitated throwing something to the ground. "Lock him down!" He meant for her to make sure Tingle went nowhere else other than orbiting within two feet of someone more competent than him. Jack didn't care if she had to sit on his face, or magnetize the little squirt's hands to latch permanently onto her thigh. The goal was to make sure Tingle didn't make any more silly mistakes and get himself shot. As much as Jack hated these moments, he was doing Tingle a goddamn favor by wanting to take him out of the fight. Everything Carver seen done so far had shown how much the little guy was in over his head.<br/><br/>If Sheva was near, he'd call out to her next. "You, Sheva. This is going to get worse before it gets better. I hope you aren't all talk, with all that patriotic worship I heard back there. Biological warfare expert? FRAG OUT!" He popped up and tossed one of his pipe bombs up ahead, past Shanoa's and Tingle's hiding spot. If enemy soldiers advanced on Shanoa's position, he would detonate it and kill them, giving her and her luggage a window of opportunity to escape. "Tell me, is there a cure for stupid yet, on your world?"<br/><br/><hr/><br/>1738 words<br/>5 XP<br/><em><br/><strong>[||||||||||]</strong> 7/10</em>