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Stop breaking the rocket Chairs

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For some bizarre reason, copies of survivors, acting exactly as the non-copies, began popping up. They were very, VERY annoying, especially when it was one hunter vs four of the same survivor. With survivors like enchantress, coordinator, cowboy, and prospector, even just one is enough to be a challenge.

But four?! Four of them, all in the same match?! It’s like the baron was trying to make the hunters suffer more than the survivors with every decisions they make. The situation of copies were normally only two in a match, with very rarely, four of the same ones.

This is the situation Antonio was facing right now. There were four gardeners. Four. Gardeners. Now he likes to think of himself as a patient man, but in this kind of situation? He is literally brimming with so much frustration he could rip his own hair out.

At first he’d been doing well, knocking down them down easily once their bubbles popped. But then he came to the infuriatingly annoying realization that they had broken the rocket chairs. While it was quick and easy to fix, each time he put a gardener down, two more would flock to him and try to distract him.

It got to the point where they didn’t even try to decode, they just harassed him, running around him in circles, or breaking the chair immediately after he’d just fixed it. At one point he just simply stopped caring, simply giving into his frustration.

Antonio let out a long, frustrated, string of curses in Italian, then sat down, folding his legs up to his chest. One of the gardeners that had been following him stopped, blinking at him before slowly walking towards him. He let out a scoff, and shifted, turning his head away from her.

He knew he was basically sulking, but he didn’t care. The gardener examined him for a moment longer before she sat down too, sitting next to him. They sat in silence, the only sound was from the distant sounds of more rocket chairs becoming broken.

It was nice, he’d fully expected her to continue running around him, maybe even laugh at his anger.

“Violinist?” Survivors almost never spoke to hunters directly, but it was nice when they did. Apparently he was extra scary compared to the other hunters, so it was rare for him to play a match, friendly or not, without one survivor running from him in fear. Antonio let out a small sigh,

“Yes, gardener?” She tilted her head in inquiry, staring straight at him without flinching.

“Can you play your violin normally in matches? Or can you only play demon notes?”

“I can play normally,” he shifts, half facing her and crossing his legs instead of having them pressed to his chest. “Would you like me to play a song for you?” The gardener perked up, smiling.

“Ooh yes please!” He let out a small chuckle, some of the bitter frustration leaving as he was affected by her enthusiasm. Antonio lifted his hands, and gently took his violin and bow from his hair. His dark locks settled on his shoulders as he prepared himself.

Antonio placed the violin delicately under his chin, straightened his back, and began playing. How easily, it was, to fall into the rhythm of the music, starting slow as red strings began forming next to the remaining single string. After not long, he picked up the pace, body swaying along with the complicated melody.

Once he was done, he realized all the other gardeners had gathered around him. They all clapped, letting out small cheers of applause. He bowed for them, dipping his head while his hair coiled back around his violin and bow. His hands falling limp to his side.

As quickly as he stepped into identity of Master Paganini, he shifted identities, and became Antonio, but not the violinist.

“I..” he pauses, then lets out a weary breath, “I’m done for today, I surrender.” All together, they walk through the gates back to the manor.