Fragments - A Cookie Run Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Scene

//AAAAh! Stop! I coulda dropped my C R O I S S A N T!!//

-

Continuing to contemplate his options, the olden cookie made sure to consider what he was going to do. He needed a plan, and one that was solid. Based on the looks of the field that lie ahead, one wrong move, and he could easily become a jam-filled pin-cushion.

Brainstorming really wasn't all that hard. The stress from whatever situation had prompted the brainstorming was always the issue.

First, he needed to consider air censory systems. Then, he had to consider tripwires. Maybe he could do this a more simple way, without wasting even more time. Time was clearly not on their side, and the last thing he needed was to be sitting here, stuck, trying to concoct an elaborate plan for a venture that had 50/50 chance of ACTUALLY being perilous.

With a couple more moments spent, the man looks around himself, deciding that, it would be worth the risk. He shouldn't abandon the area he had found, especially if he had found it somewhat by accident. He remembered that Gingerbrave seemed off-put and upset by the knowledge that the others hadn't even seen it when he was found injured a while back.

The old man very briefly mourned his slightly aching back, and pushed his own needs aside. Then, peering around in the nearby trees and other foliage, he located a large, dense looking log. It was at least 6 feet long, and a foot across the diameter.

If he grabbed the nearby sign, and used it to push the log in front of himself, he should be able to trigger any trip wires, and hopefully avoid being shot, if there were any still active.

Before he did that, though, he needed to throw something heavy out into the field. He had a good arm, and censory systems were usually large, so if he threw something as mosdest as a hand-sized stone, it should trigger something.

Taking off his coat, and looking around on the ground, he located an object of interest, and nodded in brief, but non-lasting satisfaction. It was a jagged rock about half the size of his hand.

Picking it up, guided his eyes around, spotting a few more that he could use that were of the same relative size. He also pulled them into his grasp, before walking back out o the edge of path, his focus still on the meadow-like field ahead. It certainly was quite the crime-scene. Taking in a deep breath, and leaning himself back, Almond separated one rock from the others, and quickly chucked it across the field.

The rock flew over the grass, unhaulted, and undisturbed, until landing somewhere in the grass, close to the other side of the space. Which was quite the notable distance indeed.

Nothing happened. There was no firing arrows, no other weapons- not splays of powers, or contained energy. The field itself was just all silence.

This brought forth the smallest tinges of satisfaction in his mind, before he looks around in the other directions that the space had extended out to. With a sigh, he pulled his arm back again, and repeated the previous action at least four times, sending the rock in his hand flying across the way.

Just like the first, nothing had happened. Everything was relatively undisturbed, and there was nothing to see.

Confident in the lack of more advanced sensory systems, Almond popped his back, before walking over to the fallen log he had spotted and mentally marked not even a few minutes beforehand. He had to take in a deep breath, before bending over, and grabbing the fallen plant life and dragging it to where he needed it to be placed.

With a heave, and what could count as a gasp of pain, from the sudden popping of something in his side, the man regained his composure, before looking back to the broken pedestal, and the many abandoned, fallen arrows within the collection of dying grass.

He lines up the log in front of him horizantally, placing it at the very edge of the grass, before turning to walk over to the sign that had been one of the main mental landmark Gingerbrave had when that pink spike had went through his leg.

With strained effort, Almond broke the sign from where it rested, and carried it to where he intended to work, and- finally, he started roll the log in front of him forward.

The sign he held, to roll the log at a distance, kept him away from the actual means of safeguard by about... maybe three feet.

All of this effort, just to move around out here, it seemed ridiculous. However, if he could trigger tripwires, and be a notable distance away from them, he would have a better chance of not being injured. Him being hurt out here, when no one knows where he is at the moment, would be terrible way for this day to go.

The last thing ANY of the others needed was the stress of TWO of the residents missing.

-

A strained 15 minutes passed, and the man had not encountered any tripwires. All of that heavy lifiting felt as though it wasn't worth it, but he reminded himself what would be at stake if he were to encounter an accident that could have happened without the log there for safety.

He really wished he would have brought his bullet proof vest... he needed to start wearing that again. Even if it did stunt his movement a bit...

After stopping for a moment, the man leans over the log, trying to catch his breath as his back was continuing to ache from being arched over. Just as he leans forward, though, something caught his eye.

There, on the ground, sputtered within the grass, there was splatterings of jam that had fallen to the ground.

Shaking his head, trying to confirm what he had seen, the man opened his eyes again, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him.

However, they weren't.

He continued to look ahead of himself, even past the log, and up ahead, there was even more jam sputtered over the ground, on the flowers, and stones.

Rather than feeling like he had made progress anymore the olden detective started to feel dread. Just what had happened here?

He sucked up his pain, and rushed to push the log forward faster, before looking up after crashing into the base of the pedestal that lie in shambles on the fine rock that it rested. He didn't need to look over the large chunks of stone that had fallen all over the platform the object rested upon.

This was only because, right in front of him- there were several large pools of dried blood that covered the ground below them.

((To be Contiued))