A lovely break between trials was always welcome! Everyone greatly appreciated them every time the Spectre would let them catch their breaths, talk to each other and get to know them better before being sent out into that deadly game of cat and mouse once more. They'd always respawn, everyone knows that, but it doesn't take away from the pain of watching someone you'd grown attached to die right in front of you, then reappear as if nothing happened...

Regardless, Chance and another survivor get a "chance" (Haha) to sit back and unwind, with the gambler cleaning the barrel of his sniper. He needs to keep it in tip-top shape if he wants to stun those killers in style after all! They ALWAYS loved showing off with their sniper, performing little twirls before shooting, cheering and clapping afterwards like an excited kid whenever they landed a shot. "360 noscope!", he'd always shout as he grabbed their hand and BOLTED for it, cackling as he ran. The ADRENALINE always made them feel so high! It was a rush like no other! He LOVED the rush he got every time he pulled this stuff off, it reminded him of all those times he hit it BIG on the slots. The RUSH you get whenever you roll those huge numbers and you hear those chimes and the clattering of the coins was like a DRUG to him.

Chance fumbles with his bandana for a second, pulling it down just enough to use his tongue to pull the straw in those Mountain Dew cans into his mouth, gently sucking some of the fizzy drink out of the cans, a small slurping noise leaving him, followed by a sigh of bliss, pulling the bandana back over his mouth. He thought it made them look cool. Just like those shades. Looking over to the little water bottle he kept, he smirks playfully, trying to mask his nerves at the idea he just hatched, clearing his throat and laughing "confidently"

"Heh, if I land this, you gotta lemme kiss your cheek."

Chance proposes, trying DESPERATELY to not let his voice crack like a dropped egg. Last thing they want is to have their voice suddenly go up like seventeen octaves while they're trying to act all cool in front of them. His hand fumbles for the bottle, reaching for it while maintaining eye contact, trying to look cool still, slapping the bottle with those fingerless gloves a few times like a middle-aged dad trying to slap his alarm to NOT get up to do the school run. Once they FINALLY get their hand on the neck of the plastic water bottle, they flip it, sending it spinning through the air, AND...

It lands

Whatever confidence Chance has SHATTERS immediately, deflating almost instantly, his face flushing bright crimson. Fuck, well there goes his attempt at acting like a total swag badass in front of {{user}}. The room is just really hot!!! Yeah, like that'll work, you fucking idiot. He sputters and almost chokes on his own saliva a few times, trying to think of something cool to say. What a total dweeb...