[[Garrett Hunter continued from The Gully]]
"FUCK."
Garrett was not a happy camper, and given the opportunity he'd be very happy to enumerate the reasons why. Not that he had the opportunity, or at least, not that he had anyone around that he was gonna put the effort in to talk to.
Reason number one: he'd just walked for god knows how many fucking hours with a- remember? -a bum fucking leg. Bum as in bullet-wounded. He was beginning to remember his injury as something worse than it was, like there was still a piece of goddamn lead buried in his calf, which was of course bullshit and patently untrue. But shit, it hurt bad enough to be that bad, for sure, and you know what was really not even a little bit awesome? Hustling through a tunnel- which, remember, is creepy as shit- with the aforementioned bum fucking leg, rushing away from what could have been the greatest (and admittedly last) moment of his life, and rushing away from horrible and inevitable death.
Awesome.
Reason number two: Mirabelle Nesa was not with him, and what, three days ago? that would have been something to celebrate, because fuck Mirabelle Nesa and her fucking face. But look, shit changes, and now he was here with some amnesiac bullshit that was actually upset, legitimately upset that she wasn't here. He really still could not remember, but that was kind of irrelevant because Mirabelle was gonna die anyway, stuck down in those goddamn tunnels with Liz Polanski, going out in a blaze of glory or whatever. Not fair. She hadn't wanted to come with him and he felt weirdly rejected. Had the girl really rather died than come with him? Or she was just thinking differently, she thought dying down there was the right thing to do- I am Jack's misplaced sense of honor- or maybe she actually liked Liz? Either way he was stuck here, with this goddamn little pr-
Okay, wait, hold that thought.
Reason number three: The revolution had been televised, and now the revolution was probably, literally, dead. The announcement hadn't played quite yet- as he finally got his crippled ass out of that tunnel, swearing loudly that he wouldn't spend another moment of the short remnants of his life underground, there was the slightest glow on the horizon that indicated that sunrise was almost but not quite here. Once the sun was up, he was positive he'd hear their names- Liz, Mirabelle, maybe Brendan if that kid had been stupid enough to hang around. Either way, the revolution, the one he'd been so hype on joining, the leader was gonna die if she wasn't dead already. The one person he was counting on joining him? Her too. Yeah, this was his revolution now, that was kind of cool, but he couldn't do it alone, he didn't even know what the fuck he was doing.
Well. He wasn't alone. That would be reason number four.
He was here, on a goddamn mountain, trying to restart the grand rebellion scheme with Jeremy. Fucking. Franco.
Jeremy GODDAMN SHUT THE FUCK UP JESUS FUCKING CHRIST Franco.
That one. That little twat. That fucking loser. Had run right after him in those godforsaken tunnels, probably figuring the terrorists were gonna blow his shit next, not that they'd bother. Garrett figured they'd picked him first cause they knew he wasn't gonna run away unless he absolutely had to, and damn if getting your head blown off wasn't a good reason to do anything. They'd probably figured the pussy'd up and split at the slightest hint of danger and look what he'd done? Up and split at the slightest fucking hint of danger. Fucking Jeremy Franco. Jesus take the fucking wheel.
The kid could've left, too, could've easily outran him, gone somewhere else, that would have been so, so much better. Garrett Hunter was pretty used to being on his own, he was less used to traveling around with an obnoxious boy who was testing the limits of this not-killing thing he'd decided on. Not that he could really do that, his only weapon was this fucking net gun that'd be helpful exactly never, and Jeremy had his fucking...cane. Yeah, whatever, at this rate Garrett was gonna have to beat him to death with a water bottle, or just curbstomp him, American History X style-
Whatever. Franco pissed him off, but he wasn't gonna kill him. That wasn't his style. Instead he ignored him completely as he looked around the darkened landscape of this bloody rock he'd wound up on. Bloody wasn't a curse, either- it was a perfectly valid description, given that, equipped with his flashlight, he immediately spotted more than one corpse. Gross as fuck. He'd had surprisingly little contact with the dead during the last week, and he had no urge to get anywhere near them now. He put a bit of distance between himself and the cave, giving a wide berth to the corpses he saw.
And then he stopped, rather suddenly, addressing the irritating thing that was following him around.
"Franco. You stick with me, you gotta be ready to be part of shit, hear me? Keep the revolution alive. If you can't keep up, get the fuck out, because I don't want to deal with your bullshit."
I Am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rejection
Open- revolutionaries wanted. [Day 7]
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Hollyquin†
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I Am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rejection
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ZombiexCreame†
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((Fiona Sparki continued from Take Back The Fear))
Fiona Sparki felt hopelessly lost. She was pretty sure that everyone on this island had felt a little lost at some point or another, but she was in the deep dark depths of irredeemably lost. She was so used to being happy and cheery and easy-going, and with a traveling partner by her side, it was easy to slip into the familiar ruse of pretending that everything was cool and joking around with her companions. However, as she thought about it for a few seconds longer, she realized that her only companion had been Nik, and he was never really up for joking much. In fact, he was angry a lot of the time, mostly over Staffan's descent into darkness and... killing other students.
Fiona remembered how much she tried to convince Nik that Staffan's kills were probably pure accidental or circumstantial, but then she witnessed it for herself: Staffan really was a cold-blooded killer, deprived Nik and Evleyn of their lives. She shivered to herself, remembered how the cold blade of the axe sunk into the pit of his stomach. It was sort of like a knife tearing through butter except more bloody and with better sound effects. And she didn't feel guilty this this kill! Owen? Yeah, maybe a little. He didn't mean it, probably, he was just caught up in the moment.
Staffan? Yeah. He fucking deserved what he got. Ask and you shall receive, eh? But that just reminded her of Danya's announcements, which, thus far, she'd found very amusing. More on a superficial level, she considered them horrifying along with everyone else, but that Mr. Danya sure was an interesting fellow. Anyway, she remembered what he'd said about the axe pun, and it really tickled her funny bone. She found herself giggling as she walked, wondering how long it had been. How long had she been walking? How long has it been since she ditched Autumn? How long has it been since Nik and Evleyn died? She was plagued with different thoughts, like Should I have given them a proper.. funeral or something? I sort of just left them there. But they looked so cute holding hands! Yeah, I probably did the right thing.
Fiona began to grow tired and hungry, but that was no real surprise. She'd been tired and hungry since day one, and as much as she desperately wanted to rest, she mostly just didn't want to be alone. She wanted to find someone, anyone. Sure, she'd seen people, but she didn't know if they were friendly. Wouldn't friendly people feel more inclined to avoid her? Her name was on the announcements twice. And it wasn't like she could blend into the backdrop, her hair was like a shining disco ball in dread form. People probably knew who she was, by name, she was a cheerleader, after all. God... What would her fellow cheerleaders say now? Where were they? Were they all dead? Evelyn was.
It was juvenile to think, but Fiona was having daydreams about returning home and taking Evelyn's rank on the cheer team- wait. Yeah, Fiona was to graduate. No more cheerleading. She didn't want to do that for the rest of her life, nooo. Now was probably a good time to forget about cheerleading and how much she enjoyed it. She didn't even have the time to part from her hobby back in St. Paul. She was too busy getting ready for the damn school camping trip. Damn. Why did she even bother to go? Fiona wasn't even too sure if she enjoyed camping.
She took a deep breath and looked around, noticed the scenery as it melted into forest and rolling hills. Rolling hills became larger and steeper, and a quick consultation of her map revealed that she was heading straight into the mountains. Lovely. She couldn't climb a mountain! She mostly just wanted to find someone, maybe someone friendly who liked her, and rest. She wanted no more conflicts, no more deaths. She wanted to change out of her bloodied clothing and into something more appropriate, less threatening, but she didn't have anything. Her own personal bag was gone. She probably lost it during the ensuing action at the town center. She left a lot of her food too... She honestly just wanted to cry. Why did all this have to happen? Why did she have to lose Nik and Evelyn. Why was Staffan such a bastard?! She wouldn't allow herself to cry, but she wanted to. Oooh she wanted to.
Finally she witnessed signs of human life. She heard a male voice shout "FUCK" quite loudly, and as she got a bit nearer, she heard a voice. It seemed the same male was talking to someone else. Talking to some "Franco" and "the revolution." What was going on? Had she stepped back into time during the French revolution? Was someone having some crazy delusions? She didn't know. Wasn't sure if she wanted to find out, but she wanted some company. Fiona was a mysterious being that didn't thrive on solitude.
Whoever was talking, he sounded pretty harsh. Told his friend to get the fuck out if he couldn't keep up. Like, damn! Fiona lowered her axe and made her way through the trees and brush, drawing closer all the while. She noticed a cave off to the side, the boy in question standing there, talking to another. She wasn't sure if she wanted to walk over with an axe and bloodied clothing, she'd probably scare the absolute shit out of them. And if they had a gun, they'd most definitely shoot at her. Throw her stuff on the ground, raise her hands? If they were killers, they could shoot her! She didn't really know these boys very well. Recognized them, didn't know them. They probably rung up about 5 points on her acquaintance scale.
But Fiona was good with taking chances, so she simply strolled over and placed her axe and bag on the ground. "Helloooo there." That was all she could manage to say. "Don't, like, shoot me or anything. I swear I'm not gunna hurt ya."
Fiona Sparki felt hopelessly lost. She was pretty sure that everyone on this island had felt a little lost at some point or another, but she was in the deep dark depths of irredeemably lost. She was so used to being happy and cheery and easy-going, and with a traveling partner by her side, it was easy to slip into the familiar ruse of pretending that everything was cool and joking around with her companions. However, as she thought about it for a few seconds longer, she realized that her only companion had been Nik, and he was never really up for joking much. In fact, he was angry a lot of the time, mostly over Staffan's descent into darkness and... killing other students.
Fiona remembered how much she tried to convince Nik that Staffan's kills were probably pure accidental or circumstantial, but then she witnessed it for herself: Staffan really was a cold-blooded killer, deprived Nik and Evleyn of their lives. She shivered to herself, remembered how the cold blade of the axe sunk into the pit of his stomach. It was sort of like a knife tearing through butter except more bloody and with better sound effects. And she didn't feel guilty this this kill! Owen? Yeah, maybe a little. He didn't mean it, probably, he was just caught up in the moment.
Staffan? Yeah. He fucking deserved what he got. Ask and you shall receive, eh? But that just reminded her of Danya's announcements, which, thus far, she'd found very amusing. More on a superficial level, she considered them horrifying along with everyone else, but that Mr. Danya sure was an interesting fellow. Anyway, she remembered what he'd said about the axe pun, and it really tickled her funny bone. She found herself giggling as she walked, wondering how long it had been. How long had she been walking? How long has it been since she ditched Autumn? How long has it been since Nik and Evleyn died? She was plagued with different thoughts, like Should I have given them a proper.. funeral or something? I sort of just left them there. But they looked so cute holding hands! Yeah, I probably did the right thing.
Fiona began to grow tired and hungry, but that was no real surprise. She'd been tired and hungry since day one, and as much as she desperately wanted to rest, she mostly just didn't want to be alone. She wanted to find someone, anyone. Sure, she'd seen people, but she didn't know if they were friendly. Wouldn't friendly people feel more inclined to avoid her? Her name was on the announcements twice. And it wasn't like she could blend into the backdrop, her hair was like a shining disco ball in dread form. People probably knew who she was, by name, she was a cheerleader, after all. God... What would her fellow cheerleaders say now? Where were they? Were they all dead? Evelyn was.
It was juvenile to think, but Fiona was having daydreams about returning home and taking Evelyn's rank on the cheer team- wait. Yeah, Fiona was to graduate. No more cheerleading. She didn't want to do that for the rest of her life, nooo. Now was probably a good time to forget about cheerleading and how much she enjoyed it. She didn't even have the time to part from her hobby back in St. Paul. She was too busy getting ready for the damn school camping trip. Damn. Why did she even bother to go? Fiona wasn't even too sure if she enjoyed camping.
She took a deep breath and looked around, noticed the scenery as it melted into forest and rolling hills. Rolling hills became larger and steeper, and a quick consultation of her map revealed that she was heading straight into the mountains. Lovely. She couldn't climb a mountain! She mostly just wanted to find someone, maybe someone friendly who liked her, and rest. She wanted no more conflicts, no more deaths. She wanted to change out of her bloodied clothing and into something more appropriate, less threatening, but she didn't have anything. Her own personal bag was gone. She probably lost it during the ensuing action at the town center. She left a lot of her food too... She honestly just wanted to cry. Why did all this have to happen? Why did she have to lose Nik and Evelyn. Why was Staffan such a bastard?! She wouldn't allow herself to cry, but she wanted to. Oooh she wanted to.
Finally she witnessed signs of human life. She heard a male voice shout "FUCK" quite loudly, and as she got a bit nearer, she heard a voice. It seemed the same male was talking to someone else. Talking to some "Franco" and "the revolution." What was going on? Had she stepped back into time during the French revolution? Was someone having some crazy delusions? She didn't know. Wasn't sure if she wanted to find out, but she wanted some company. Fiona was a mysterious being that didn't thrive on solitude.
Whoever was talking, he sounded pretty harsh. Told his friend to get the fuck out if he couldn't keep up. Like, damn! Fiona lowered her axe and made her way through the trees and brush, drawing closer all the while. She noticed a cave off to the side, the boy in question standing there, talking to another. She wasn't sure if she wanted to walk over with an axe and bloodied clothing, she'd probably scare the absolute shit out of them. And if they had a gun, they'd most definitely shoot at her. Throw her stuff on the ground, raise her hands? If they were killers, they could shoot her! She didn't really know these boys very well. Recognized them, didn't know them. They probably rung up about 5 points on her acquaintance scale.
But Fiona was good with taking chances, so she simply strolled over and placed her axe and bag on the ground. "Helloooo there." That was all she could manage to say. "Don't, like, shoot me or anything. I swear I'm not gunna hurt ya."
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Hollyquin†
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"Helloooo there."
Oh jesus. There was a voice. Garrett hated voices, because they meant some other stupid fuck he wanted nothing to do with was popping out of the goddamn woodwork, and fuck if he didn't have enough to deal with what with this Jeremy Goddamn Franco thing he had going on right now. The fact that the voice belonged to a girl immediately eliminated the possibility that it was someone he liked, cared about or felt like talking to, given that the only girl he'd ever liked for even a little while was now most likely a broken corpse somewhere deep underground. Hell, he'd find out soon enough.
He'd been waiting for Franco's response (hopefully him running off and leaving me alone) when this girl, some fatass dreadlocked bitch whose cheeriness was pissing him off more than anything could, went ahead and walked right up to them, dropping her bag like she was planning on staying. Which was not okay. There was planning to be done here. There was a revolution to revive, dammit! Even if it was just him and fucking Jeremy Franco, that was something. Least Franco had proven himself sort of useful. He'd been part of the whole plan, anyway, the one that'd gone to hell. That made him...something. That was the only reason he didn't kick the kid's ass. He was a pussy, sure, but there was something there.
No way this girl had anything. Took him about five seconds to- okay, no, she had something, judging by the blood stains and the fucking axe (a fucking AXE! what the FUCK!). That something just happened to be batshit insane.
"Don't, like, shoot me or anything. I swear I'm not gunna hurt ya."
Yeah, I'm totally gonna shoot her, with what fucking g- oh. Right.
Easy to forget the fucking thing, still sitting in his hand, by his side. The net gun. A completely bullshit weapon, especially against a girl with an axe. Not that he wanted to shoot her, or kill her, he wasn't playing that game, but if he had an actual gun maybe he could wave in threateningly in her direction until she went away. The net gun looked more like an obnoxious flashlight than anything else, not exactly dangerous looking, so he was kind of out of luck there. He'd have to go with his default method of chasing people away- being an asshole. This being one of Garrett's greatest and most practiced talents.
"Yo. I don't know who the fuck you are, and I'm not gonna shoot you, but y-"
BZZZZZZZZZZT
Oh hell.
"Hey kids, it's Uncle Danya!"
Sick interruption. Totally ruining his moment or whatever. He fell silent to listen, though, as he had a special interest in the announcements right now. Apparently they'd survived, or nearly survived, to the halfway point- that was pretty cool, actually, though it reminded him for about the thousandth time how many fucking kids had to die to get here. He didn't like probably 99% of them, but that didn't mean they deserved to be fucking killed. No one would be surprised to know that he was thinking, yet again, that this game was utter bullshit. Which was why he was here with Jeremy Franco and Mirabelle and Liz were dead and way more than six feet under.
Or not, apparently. Their names didn't come up in the announcements, which took him by surprise- had they gotten away? Nah, that was impossible, the only ways out of the tunnel as far as he knew were here and back out the terrorist-death-squad-filled entrance. Maybe there were other exits, maybe they'd gotten away...or maybe, more likely, they were dead. They were dead and for some reason Danya wasn't announcing it. Maybe he just didn't want people knowing about the death squad, maybe they were gonna go hunting other students...maybe him and Franco and Brendan if he'd gotten away. Or maybe they weren't dead, maybe they were still scurrying around in the tunnels, still being chased...
He'd completely forgotten what he was saying to this new girl- who was he to give a fuck really- so he spared her a quick look and a "hold up" and instead turned to Jeremy, raising an eyebrow.
"What d'you think? They still alive?"
Oh jesus. There was a voice. Garrett hated voices, because they meant some other stupid fuck he wanted nothing to do with was popping out of the goddamn woodwork, and fuck if he didn't have enough to deal with what with this Jeremy Goddamn Franco thing he had going on right now. The fact that the voice belonged to a girl immediately eliminated the possibility that it was someone he liked, cared about or felt like talking to, given that the only girl he'd ever liked for even a little while was now most likely a broken corpse somewhere deep underground. Hell, he'd find out soon enough.
He'd been waiting for Franco's response (hopefully him running off and leaving me alone) when this girl, some fatass dreadlocked bitch whose cheeriness was pissing him off more than anything could, went ahead and walked right up to them, dropping her bag like she was planning on staying. Which was not okay. There was planning to be done here. There was a revolution to revive, dammit! Even if it was just him and fucking Jeremy Franco, that was something. Least Franco had proven himself sort of useful. He'd been part of the whole plan, anyway, the one that'd gone to hell. That made him...something. That was the only reason he didn't kick the kid's ass. He was a pussy, sure, but there was something there.
No way this girl had anything. Took him about five seconds to- okay, no, she had something, judging by the blood stains and the fucking axe (a fucking AXE! what the FUCK!). That something just happened to be batshit insane.
"Don't, like, shoot me or anything. I swear I'm not gunna hurt ya."
Yeah, I'm totally gonna shoot her, with what fucking g- oh. Right.
Easy to forget the fucking thing, still sitting in his hand, by his side. The net gun. A completely bullshit weapon, especially against a girl with an axe. Not that he wanted to shoot her, or kill her, he wasn't playing that game, but if he had an actual gun maybe he could wave in threateningly in her direction until she went away. The net gun looked more like an obnoxious flashlight than anything else, not exactly dangerous looking, so he was kind of out of luck there. He'd have to go with his default method of chasing people away- being an asshole. This being one of Garrett's greatest and most practiced talents.
"Yo. I don't know who the fuck you are, and I'm not gonna shoot you, but y-"
BZZZZZZZZZZT
Oh hell.
"Hey kids, it's Uncle Danya!"
Sick interruption. Totally ruining his moment or whatever. He fell silent to listen, though, as he had a special interest in the announcements right now. Apparently they'd survived, or nearly survived, to the halfway point- that was pretty cool, actually, though it reminded him for about the thousandth time how many fucking kids had to die to get here. He didn't like probably 99% of them, but that didn't mean they deserved to be fucking killed. No one would be surprised to know that he was thinking, yet again, that this game was utter bullshit. Which was why he was here with Jeremy Franco and Mirabelle and Liz were dead and way more than six feet under.
Or not, apparently. Their names didn't come up in the announcements, which took him by surprise- had they gotten away? Nah, that was impossible, the only ways out of the tunnel as far as he knew were here and back out the terrorist-death-squad-filled entrance. Maybe there were other exits, maybe they'd gotten away...or maybe, more likely, they were dead. They were dead and for some reason Danya wasn't announcing it. Maybe he just didn't want people knowing about the death squad, maybe they were gonna go hunting other students...maybe him and Franco and Brendan if he'd gotten away. Or maybe they weren't dead, maybe they were still scurrying around in the tunnels, still being chased...
He'd completely forgotten what he was saying to this new girl- who was he to give a fuck really- so he spared her a quick look and a "hold up" and instead turned to Jeremy, raising an eyebrow.
"What d'you think? They still alive?"
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((Jeremy Franco continued from The Gully))
Um.
What were you supposed to do in this situation, again?
Help Jeremy out here, because he's drawing a blank right now. He's stopped and thought about the circumstances- which is a first- and he's determined that maybe the Crazy Jeremy's Used Car Dealership approach isn't the best approach for talking to this girl. This girl who... fuck, name, what's her name, uh... okay. You can remember this, you totally recognize her. Hot chick, cheerleader, name of... right! Sparky! Hahaha, total stripper name, her parents must've- wait no, no, even better, she spelled with an I, like Sparki, haha, the most stripperest name of all.
Okay don't say any of that aloud Jeremy please don't do that.
Instead, figure out what to say here. Don't wanna antagonize her, don't wanna make her think you're an idiot. But don't wanna put her in danger either, do you. Cause there's this little matter involving you and involving Garrett and involving some very scary men with some very scary guns. Do you wanna stay silent about that, wanna keep your lips nice and sealed till some very scary men show up and they decide she's been collaborating with the enemy and suddenly you look like a real big douchebag?
No not really. You want to break that news right now, give her the chance to show an ounce of sense and get away from this pari of assholes. But do so in a way that is nice and calm and reasoned, do so like a philanthropist, like maybe Warren Buffet- but you've seen plenty of interviews with Warren Buffet and none of them really come up as applicable to this situation. So okay, there's one idol who can't fix this situation for you, how about we try another like... Jason Bourne maybe? Yeah Jason Bourne is calm and cool and the biggest of all badasses. So he'd know what do to here.
In this situation, Jason Bourne would have already disabled his own collar, as well as the entire camera network. He would have single-handedly killed each of the terrorists sent to get the network running again, hijacked their helicopter, flown it back to their headquarters, and killed everyone there.
It was not particularly useful to imagine what Jason Bourne would have done in this situation.
So instead he took a deep breath and decided he was just going to be Jeremy Franco. Which may not have been the best idea in the world but, fuck it, it was the best he had.
"Hey there. I'm Jeremy, this is Garrett. We're absolutely not gonna shoot, so you don't need to worry about that. But we've just gotten into a bit of trouble with some very dangerous people." God, what kind of asshole actually talked like this? Not nearly enough unnecessary jokes. This was just weird.
"It looks like we've lost them, but I don't know if they're gonna come after us again. Garrett and I... I mean, if you need any help, I'm sure we can oblige, but we might not be the safest guys to hang around right now."
Yeah that's the most reassuring shit in the world. Scary dudes, we're not safe to hang around with, no names and no specifics. Yet somehow, Jeremy got the feeling that filling her in on the details wouldn't exactly make her feel any better.
So that's how it was gonna be. Tell everyone about the incredible danger first, then if they decide they still wanna stick around- and remember you haven't given them any reason to stick around- then you tell them that you're on a fool's errand that's gonna probably get you and everyone else involved killed.
Not exactly the best way to start a revolution, is it.
Um.
What were you supposed to do in this situation, again?
Help Jeremy out here, because he's drawing a blank right now. He's stopped and thought about the circumstances- which is a first- and he's determined that maybe the Crazy Jeremy's Used Car Dealership approach isn't the best approach for talking to this girl. This girl who... fuck, name, what's her name, uh... okay. You can remember this, you totally recognize her. Hot chick, cheerleader, name of... right! Sparky! Hahaha, total stripper name, her parents must've- wait no, no, even better, she spelled with an I, like Sparki, haha, the most stripperest name of all.
Okay don't say any of that aloud Jeremy please don't do that.
Instead, figure out what to say here. Don't wanna antagonize her, don't wanna make her think you're an idiot. But don't wanna put her in danger either, do you. Cause there's this little matter involving you and involving Garrett and involving some very scary men with some very scary guns. Do you wanna stay silent about that, wanna keep your lips nice and sealed till some very scary men show up and they decide she's been collaborating with the enemy and suddenly you look like a real big douchebag?
No not really. You want to break that news right now, give her the chance to show an ounce of sense and get away from this pari of assholes. But do so in a way that is nice and calm and reasoned, do so like a philanthropist, like maybe Warren Buffet- but you've seen plenty of interviews with Warren Buffet and none of them really come up as applicable to this situation. So okay, there's one idol who can't fix this situation for you, how about we try another like... Jason Bourne maybe? Yeah Jason Bourne is calm and cool and the biggest of all badasses. So he'd know what do to here.
In this situation, Jason Bourne would have already disabled his own collar, as well as the entire camera network. He would have single-handedly killed each of the terrorists sent to get the network running again, hijacked their helicopter, flown it back to their headquarters, and killed everyone there.
It was not particularly useful to imagine what Jason Bourne would have done in this situation.
So instead he took a deep breath and decided he was just going to be Jeremy Franco. Which may not have been the best idea in the world but, fuck it, it was the best he had.
"Hey there. I'm Jeremy, this is Garrett. We're absolutely not gonna shoot, so you don't need to worry about that. But we've just gotten into a bit of trouble with some very dangerous people." God, what kind of asshole actually talked like this? Not nearly enough unnecessary jokes. This was just weird.
"It looks like we've lost them, but I don't know if they're gonna come after us again. Garrett and I... I mean, if you need any help, I'm sure we can oblige, but we might not be the safest guys to hang around right now."
Yeah that's the most reassuring shit in the world. Scary dudes, we're not safe to hang around with, no names and no specifics. Yet somehow, Jeremy got the feeling that filling her in on the details wouldn't exactly make her feel any better.
So that's how it was gonna be. Tell everyone about the incredible danger first, then if they decide they still wanna stick around- and remember you haven't given them any reason to stick around- then you tell them that you're on a fool's errand that's gonna probably get you and everyone else involved killed.
Not exactly the best way to start a revolution, is it.
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ZombiexCreame†
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Fiona smiled at Garrett when he spoke, although he wasn't able to exactly finish his sentence. The announcements had started up again, and Fiona clasped her hands together in wait for the next list of deaths. There were the usual killers and more dead students, some people that she knew quite well and some that she didn't know at all. She sighed deeply, nearly shocked as to how many people had died since day one. It was crazy that people were actually willingly playing this game. She knew they were sort of forced and the circumstances were not that promising, but... Geez, people were nuts. Fiona realized that perhaps she should be angry as well, but for some reason, her anger was mostly gone.
Nik and Evelyn were gone, and there wasn't much reason to grieve and cry over them. It wouldn't change anything and at all, and they would have died eventually anyway, most likely. Give or take a few days, but they would all be dead soon. Everyone except one of course, although she was aware that perhaps they could all be saved. That would be nice. She shut her eyes for just a moment and thought about it, walking into the loving arms of her parents and sobbing into their shoulders... She'd have one hell of a facebook status to write upon returning.
The announcement faded to a close, and Fiona turned to Garrett, eager to tell him 'who the fuck she was.' "It's good to know that you won't shoot me! I mean, tons of people seem eager to do that, right? I wouldn't exactly blame them, I mean, if someone put a gun in my hands, I would probably shoot something too. Maybe not exactly a student but.. something." Oh yeah, she had a gun, didn't she? She had Autumn's gun, still stowed away at the bottom of her bag. She didn't really need it, so she figured if she ended up liking this Garrett and his other buddy, perhaps she would give it to them and earn their trust a little.
But what if they used her gun to kill her? Oh ho ho, that would be deliciously ironic.
"Name's is Fiona Sparki. Your name starts with a G or something, right? Gary? No, not Gary. It's not Greg eit-"
The boy turned away and faced towards the other boy, asking if 'they' were still alive. Other companions? Perhaps they were looking for someone? Fiona was always up for helping to search for someone if they needed it,a lthough admittedly, she wasn't always the best searcher.. But alas, she had nothing better to do on this island, so if they needed anything, she'd be there.
The other boy, named Jeremy apparently, introduced himself and the other boy, admitting that they had gotten into trouble with dangerous people. Huh, weird. She'd think about that later. "GARRETT! That was his name! I knew it started with a G!" she announced, pointing at the other boy. "I guess I could still call you Gary if I wanted to, but Greg just wouldn't have worked at all. Haha, Gary and Jerry. That would be hilarious." She paused and wiped the smile off her face. She had a feeling that Garrett would not like those nicknames at all. He seemed like a no-nonsense kind of dude. Fiona could dig it.
"Nice to meet you, Jeremy. What people did you stir shit up with? It's okay, I've gotten into a few situations myself." She left it vague. Didn't want to go into too much detail and end up inciting paranoia within the pair. Fiona didn't think she was really worthy of paranoia, she was just a normal girl with weird circumstances attached to her. Jeremy continued speaking, saying that it seemed like they lost the guys and admitted that they probably weren't the safest.
Fiona yawned fairly loudly and rocked on the heels of her white shoes. "Help? No, I don't really need anything. Actually, I need a lot of things like a five-course meal, but I guess that's obvious, hmm?" She smiled, making a joke about her own weight. "Sleep would be nice too, but I guess no one gets that. I actually have a motto. I made it up just now, do you want to hear it?" She didn't wait for either of the boys to affirm. "I'll SLEEP when I'm DEAD." She paused and realized that wasn't a good motto at all, nor was it funny or witty.
Play it honest, Fiona. Just say what you really want. "I guess I just wanted someone to travel with. I didn't want to be alone, and I lost my friends, so.. I really don't mind if you guys are in with the dangerous people. I can help if you want. I'm probably not that good at fighting, but three people are better than two people, right? I'm sure I could be of some help. Please? Can I stick with you guys? Pleassee. I won't be too much trouble, promise!"
Nik and Evelyn were gone, and there wasn't much reason to grieve and cry over them. It wouldn't change anything and at all, and they would have died eventually anyway, most likely. Give or take a few days, but they would all be dead soon. Everyone except one of course, although she was aware that perhaps they could all be saved. That would be nice. She shut her eyes for just a moment and thought about it, walking into the loving arms of her parents and sobbing into their shoulders... She'd have one hell of a facebook status to write upon returning.
The announcement faded to a close, and Fiona turned to Garrett, eager to tell him 'who the fuck she was.' "It's good to know that you won't shoot me! I mean, tons of people seem eager to do that, right? I wouldn't exactly blame them, I mean, if someone put a gun in my hands, I would probably shoot something too. Maybe not exactly a student but.. something." Oh yeah, she had a gun, didn't she? She had Autumn's gun, still stowed away at the bottom of her bag. She didn't really need it, so she figured if she ended up liking this Garrett and his other buddy, perhaps she would give it to them and earn their trust a little.
But what if they used her gun to kill her? Oh ho ho, that would be deliciously ironic.
"Name's is Fiona Sparki. Your name starts with a G or something, right? Gary? No, not Gary. It's not Greg eit-"
The boy turned away and faced towards the other boy, asking if 'they' were still alive. Other companions? Perhaps they were looking for someone? Fiona was always up for helping to search for someone if they needed it,a lthough admittedly, she wasn't always the best searcher.. But alas, she had nothing better to do on this island, so if they needed anything, she'd be there.
The other boy, named Jeremy apparently, introduced himself and the other boy, admitting that they had gotten into trouble with dangerous people. Huh, weird. She'd think about that later. "GARRETT! That was his name! I knew it started with a G!" she announced, pointing at the other boy. "I guess I could still call you Gary if I wanted to, but Greg just wouldn't have worked at all. Haha, Gary and Jerry. That would be hilarious." She paused and wiped the smile off her face. She had a feeling that Garrett would not like those nicknames at all. He seemed like a no-nonsense kind of dude. Fiona could dig it.
"Nice to meet you, Jeremy. What people did you stir shit up with? It's okay, I've gotten into a few situations myself." She left it vague. Didn't want to go into too much detail and end up inciting paranoia within the pair. Fiona didn't think she was really worthy of paranoia, she was just a normal girl with weird circumstances attached to her. Jeremy continued speaking, saying that it seemed like they lost the guys and admitted that they probably weren't the safest.
Fiona yawned fairly loudly and rocked on the heels of her white shoes. "Help? No, I don't really need anything. Actually, I need a lot of things like a five-course meal, but I guess that's obvious, hmm?" She smiled, making a joke about her own weight. "Sleep would be nice too, but I guess no one gets that. I actually have a motto. I made it up just now, do you want to hear it?" She didn't wait for either of the boys to affirm. "I'll SLEEP when I'm DEAD." She paused and realized that wasn't a good motto at all, nor was it funny or witty.
Play it honest, Fiona. Just say what you really want. "I guess I just wanted someone to travel with. I didn't want to be alone, and I lost my friends, so.. I really don't mind if you guys are in with the dangerous people. I can help if you want. I'm probably not that good at fighting, but three people are better than two people, right? I'm sure I could be of some help. Please? Can I stick with you guys? Pleassee. I won't be too much trouble, promise!"
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Fuck this.
Seriously, Garrett was this fucking close to throwing in the nonexistent towel, nonexistent given that there was no real way to quit. Other than offing himself, and that was for pussies. But this was too much for him to take- Jeremy Franco, the smug fuck, having the balls to ignore him and act like he was in control, like the situation was under control, which, okay, bullshit. Nothing was under control, and whatever little stability they had now was definitely not by Franco's hand. Franco had done shit-all. Garrett was in charge here, because Garrett could never be part of something he wasn't in control of.
Other than...this. That. What happened. But I didn't want to punch everyone in the face then, so...it's different.
And then there was this girl, who was probably in shock, or batshit, or just really fucking annoying, he didn't really care which it was since it all added up to the latter. God, did she shut up? Ever? No? She went on and on and Garrett let himself not pay attention to what she was saying, at all, because he was still distracted by this announcement thing, this Liz and Mirabelle not being dead maybe thing. Also by this Jeremy Franco needing a brick between the eyes thing. "We've just gotten into a bit of trouble with some very dangerous people"? Yeah, okay. A bit of trouble. That's all. No terrorist death squad or anything. And "Garrett and I... I mean, if you need any help, I'm sure we can oblige-"
Speak for yourself.
But still. This girl was a person. A fairly well-armed person who didn't want to kill him. That was...something. If he could justify keeping Franco around, it probably made sense not to chase this girl off. Another warm body between him and no. You don't think like that, this isn't a...a fuckin'...I'm not like him. I'm not Danya. I'm not supposed to let anyone die, not even crazy girls. Okay, so she annoyed the fuck out of him, and okay, so a week ago he would've chased her off, no hesitation, but he was different now. He needed people. Not to protect himself, to get this thing, this revolution underway.
Fiona Sparki was no Mirabelle Nesa, but she'd have to do.
As long as she'd knock it off with the fucking nicknames.
"Here's the deal," Garrett started, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "We're...I don't know if we're still being pursued, but we were. At the other end of the tunnels, yeah? We were..."
He considered for a moment whether to mention Liz. Decided against it. Her name would probably anger more than a few people on this island. What if this girl'd been friends with one of the kids who got popped because of her?
"...with a few others, and there was this plan to break some shit in the tunnels. get it? To fuck with their...uh..." He couldn't for the life of him remember exactly what it was Liz had meant to do in the tunnels. Had to be important. But Garrett was never good with technical details. "...fuck with their shit. And then suddenly there were Danya's men on our asses with big guns. They gave me thirty seconds to run or they'd pop my collar. So...I ran."
He grimaced. Wondering how little Belle must think of him. Funny how he cared.
"Franco followed me out. I don't know where the others went- I figured they must be dead, but none of their names came up on the announcements...maybe they're somewhere else, maybe they're still being pursued. Maybe we are. Who knows? Point is, we're basically wanted men. What we get for trying to start shit."
Here it came. The Tyler Durden, first-rule-of-Fight-Club-is, leader of men voice. Garrett was very good at it. He'd had years.
"We're going to fuck Danya over, big time. We can do that much. We can get people on our side, get everyone to say a big fuck-you to the boss man, and we can take over this island. We can get people home safe, and we can end this fucking game. It's gonna be dangerous, yeah, but it'll be worth it, and...shit, if you're willing to stick with us, you can. But you've gotta be part of this. For real. Or else..."
He felt like he was repeating himself, somehow.
"...if you can't keep up, get the fuck out."
Seriously, Garrett was this fucking close to throwing in the nonexistent towel, nonexistent given that there was no real way to quit. Other than offing himself, and that was for pussies. But this was too much for him to take- Jeremy Franco, the smug fuck, having the balls to ignore him and act like he was in control, like the situation was under control, which, okay, bullshit. Nothing was under control, and whatever little stability they had now was definitely not by Franco's hand. Franco had done shit-all. Garrett was in charge here, because Garrett could never be part of something he wasn't in control of.
Other than...this. That. What happened. But I didn't want to punch everyone in the face then, so...it's different.
And then there was this girl, who was probably in shock, or batshit, or just really fucking annoying, he didn't really care which it was since it all added up to the latter. God, did she shut up? Ever? No? She went on and on and Garrett let himself not pay attention to what she was saying, at all, because he was still distracted by this announcement thing, this Liz and Mirabelle not being dead maybe thing. Also by this Jeremy Franco needing a brick between the eyes thing. "We've just gotten into a bit of trouble with some very dangerous people"? Yeah, okay. A bit of trouble. That's all. No terrorist death squad or anything. And "Garrett and I... I mean, if you need any help, I'm sure we can oblige-"
Speak for yourself.
But still. This girl was a person. A fairly well-armed person who didn't want to kill him. That was...something. If he could justify keeping Franco around, it probably made sense not to chase this girl off. Another warm body between him and no. You don't think like that, this isn't a...a fuckin'...I'm not like him. I'm not Danya. I'm not supposed to let anyone die, not even crazy girls. Okay, so she annoyed the fuck out of him, and okay, so a week ago he would've chased her off, no hesitation, but he was different now. He needed people. Not to protect himself, to get this thing, this revolution underway.
Fiona Sparki was no Mirabelle Nesa, but she'd have to do.
As long as she'd knock it off with the fucking nicknames.
"Here's the deal," Garrett started, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "We're...I don't know if we're still being pursued, but we were. At the other end of the tunnels, yeah? We were..."
He considered for a moment whether to mention Liz. Decided against it. Her name would probably anger more than a few people on this island. What if this girl'd been friends with one of the kids who got popped because of her?
"...with a few others, and there was this plan to break some shit in the tunnels. get it? To fuck with their...uh..." He couldn't for the life of him remember exactly what it was Liz had meant to do in the tunnels. Had to be important. But Garrett was never good with technical details. "...fuck with their shit. And then suddenly there were Danya's men on our asses with big guns. They gave me thirty seconds to run or they'd pop my collar. So...I ran."
He grimaced. Wondering how little Belle must think of him. Funny how he cared.
"Franco followed me out. I don't know where the others went- I figured they must be dead, but none of their names came up on the announcements...maybe they're somewhere else, maybe they're still being pursued. Maybe we are. Who knows? Point is, we're basically wanted men. What we get for trying to start shit."
Here it came. The Tyler Durden, first-rule-of-Fight-Club-is, leader of men voice. Garrett was very good at it. He'd had years.
"We're going to fuck Danya over, big time. We can do that much. We can get people on our side, get everyone to say a big fuck-you to the boss man, and we can take over this island. We can get people home safe, and we can end this fucking game. It's gonna be dangerous, yeah, but it'll be worth it, and...shit, if you're willing to stick with us, you can. But you've gotta be part of this. For real. Or else..."
He felt like he was repeating himself, somehow.
"...if you can't keep up, get the fuck out."
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No wait what no fuck no what? What? This was – no! This was against the natural order of things. This was Jeremy Franco giving a reasonable, fairly concise, accurate-but-not-so-accurate-it-freaks-people-the-fuck-out account of the situation. And immediately after, some other non-Jeremy blowjob (this blowjob in particular was named Garrett) giving his own account that added little except for profanity and wordiness. This was the exact opposite of how shit went – and how shit, metaphysically, ought to go.
Jeremy was prepared to call this "Twilight Zone-level shit", except he had never actually seen any Twilight Zone so in his new spirit of moderation he was gonna hold off on that for now.
Okay. This was- okay. Roll with it. Only one reason you want to reiterate that same information again, and it's because you wanna prove you're top dog. That was how a shark rolled, that was how you had to play it when you wanted everyone to know just how fucking important you were. Yeah, all that shit was technically true when the other guy said it, but now it's even more true because I just said it and I'm the only big badass arbiter of truth and justice in this vicinity. So if this other guy has any good ideas, expect to hear them twice.
It was just good business practice, really.
And Jeremy fucking loved good business practice.
So he was willing to let this alpha male bullshit slide. Hell, maybe even welcome it. Because if Jeremy was gonna start being low-key and friendly and reasonable for once in his life, then holy shit power vacuum. The magnificent capitalist enterprise we call existence was bound to fall apart the second he stepped down unless some competent-assed motherfucker took the reins real soon, so this was just beautiful and fantastic.
Haha, okay, joke over, time for the serious things.
"Yeah, no, Garrett's right on all counts there. But, uh... don't mind the infinite rage at the world, and all. I mean, what he's saying is absolutely true that we need you to be 100% in on this, but it's just that Garrett's the leader and he picked bad cop first." And here, Jeremy, you put on the most remorseful fucking look. "I was totally gonna pick bad cop if I could've."
That was... good, right? That he'd said all that? It wouldn't come off as ridiculously snide and assholish, yeah? Garrett wasn't about to break his nose and give him some speech that included the phrase fucking insubordination at least three times? Hopefully?
You gotta hold onto that hope, Jeremy.
Jeremy was prepared to call this "Twilight Zone-level shit", except he had never actually seen any Twilight Zone so in his new spirit of moderation he was gonna hold off on that for now.
Okay. This was- okay. Roll with it. Only one reason you want to reiterate that same information again, and it's because you wanna prove you're top dog. That was how a shark rolled, that was how you had to play it when you wanted everyone to know just how fucking important you were. Yeah, all that shit was technically true when the other guy said it, but now it's even more true because I just said it and I'm the only big badass arbiter of truth and justice in this vicinity. So if this other guy has any good ideas, expect to hear them twice.
It was just good business practice, really.
And Jeremy fucking loved good business practice.
So he was willing to let this alpha male bullshit slide. Hell, maybe even welcome it. Because if Jeremy was gonna start being low-key and friendly and reasonable for once in his life, then holy shit power vacuum. The magnificent capitalist enterprise we call existence was bound to fall apart the second he stepped down unless some competent-assed motherfucker took the reins real soon, so this was just beautiful and fantastic.
Haha, okay, joke over, time for the serious things.
"Yeah, no, Garrett's right on all counts there. But, uh... don't mind the infinite rage at the world, and all. I mean, what he's saying is absolutely true that we need you to be 100% in on this, but it's just that Garrett's the leader and he picked bad cop first." And here, Jeremy, you put on the most remorseful fucking look. "I was totally gonna pick bad cop if I could've."
That was... good, right? That he'd said all that? It wouldn't come off as ridiculously snide and assholish, yeah? Garrett wasn't about to break his nose and give him some speech that included the phrase fucking insubordination at least three times? Hopefully?
You gotta hold onto that hope, Jeremy.
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ZombiexCreame†
- Posts: 305
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:29 am
These boys were pretty weird. Fiona figured that weird boys were considerably better than homicidal boys, but they were weird, nonetheless. She sort of figured that she would eventually run into a nice group of people who mostly kept to themselves, and at the first sight of Fiona, they would run the other way. They would want nothing to do with her axe-wielding, blood-covered nonsense. And if she didn't run into a nice group of people, she would run into some crazy... homicidal freak. This would lead to some to-the-death fight that would end with Fiona dead (she doubted she could fight off any sort of big-shot killer, even with her axe and gun), but at least she got a cool fight out of it all? A final ka-bang?
Except none of that was happening, and she found herself neither in a cool middle or immediate death, but rather... Two boys entangled with the terrorists who apparently kidnapped them? How in the world had they managed to do something like that? It was interesting. Fiona wouldn't have guessed in a thousand years that she would have gotten involved in something like this, but this sure beat searching for her fellow cheerleaders (what few remained) and joining them. This was... This actually sounded kind of badass!
Garrett was explaining the deal with being pursued by terrorists because he and a group of others were trying to break things in the tunnel. Fiona's eyes didn't falter from their wide expression, and she only blinked a few times during his entire explanation. "Intense," she said simply, twirling a green-dyed dread around her finger. Intense and brave, Fiona wanted to admit, but she didn't want to come off as too cheesy or heart-throbby. "Oh, Garrett, you're so brave and cool. Breaking shit in the tunnel with no regard towards your own life, how selfless!" Except maybe he wasn't that brave, as he ran away... But who the hell wouldn't when a group of people with guns were sicked upon you like a horde of vicious dogs?
Fiona remained silent at Garrett's proposition, his plan to stir things up and save everybody. Really, how the hell had Fiona managed to get herself into this situation? Just days ago, she was by Nik's side and people were dying left and right, and she was the unlucky one amidst it all. And now? Now she might be able to save people. Or... you know, get herself killed, but she sort of had a chance of redemption here. She could do something instead of kill people under the guise of useless excuses.
Her only responses were her trademark toothy grin, a simple shrug, and a cheery voice saying, "Okay, I guess I could try. There's no harm in trying, right? Well, if I mess something up, I may indirectly harm other people, so I guess there is harm in trying, but... I'll try anyway. It's not like I have any other pressing matters in my agenda." "And it's not like I could bare to wander the island alone until I die."
She turned and gave another similar grin to Jeremy. "It's all good, I'll give 100%. If I could give 110%, I could do that too." She paused and rubbed the underside of her chin with her hand, as if she were stroking an invisible beard. "So, you guys have a plan? If so, should we really be talking about it out loud like this? That Danya-dude can probably hear everything we're saying, right...? I just- if we're going to, um, fuck certain people over, perhaps we should be a little cautious about it? We don't want to be too reckless, you know? Organization is key!"
Except none of that was happening, and she found herself neither in a cool middle or immediate death, but rather... Two boys entangled with the terrorists who apparently kidnapped them? How in the world had they managed to do something like that? It was interesting. Fiona wouldn't have guessed in a thousand years that she would have gotten involved in something like this, but this sure beat searching for her fellow cheerleaders (what few remained) and joining them. This was... This actually sounded kind of badass!
Garrett was explaining the deal with being pursued by terrorists because he and a group of others were trying to break things in the tunnel. Fiona's eyes didn't falter from their wide expression, and she only blinked a few times during his entire explanation. "Intense," she said simply, twirling a green-dyed dread around her finger. Intense and brave, Fiona wanted to admit, but she didn't want to come off as too cheesy or heart-throbby. "Oh, Garrett, you're so brave and cool. Breaking shit in the tunnel with no regard towards your own life, how selfless!" Except maybe he wasn't that brave, as he ran away... But who the hell wouldn't when a group of people with guns were sicked upon you like a horde of vicious dogs?
Fiona remained silent at Garrett's proposition, his plan to stir things up and save everybody. Really, how the hell had Fiona managed to get herself into this situation? Just days ago, she was by Nik's side and people were dying left and right, and she was the unlucky one amidst it all. And now? Now she might be able to save people. Or... you know, get herself killed, but she sort of had a chance of redemption here. She could do something instead of kill people under the guise of useless excuses.
Her only responses were her trademark toothy grin, a simple shrug, and a cheery voice saying, "Okay, I guess I could try. There's no harm in trying, right? Well, if I mess something up, I may indirectly harm other people, so I guess there is harm in trying, but... I'll try anyway. It's not like I have any other pressing matters in my agenda." "And it's not like I could bare to wander the island alone until I die."
She turned and gave another similar grin to Jeremy. "It's all good, I'll give 100%. If I could give 110%, I could do that too." She paused and rubbed the underside of her chin with her hand, as if she were stroking an invisible beard. "So, you guys have a plan? If so, should we really be talking about it out loud like this? That Danya-dude can probably hear everything we're saying, right...? I just- if we're going to, um, fuck certain people over, perhaps we should be a little cautious about it? We don't want to be too reckless, you know? Organization is key!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler ZombiexCreame. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Why did Jeremy Franco have to exist? Serious question. If Jeremy Franco didn't exist, Garrett wouldn't be seriously considering giving up this whole save-everyone bit and just shooting this boy in the face with his invisible gun instead. Except if Jeremy Franco didn't exist, he'd be alone with this Fiona girl, and she wasn't exactly the best thing for his nerves right now either. So maybe it was just that people got on his nerves- yeah, that was probably it, it was probably him. But seriously, "I was totally gonna pick bad cop if I could've"? Really, Franco? It couldn't just be him that wanted to punch him in the face for that. Hell, the viewers at home were probably picking off the sleazy douchebag stench that rolled off the kids in waves. Nice to know someone was on his side, at least, not that Garrett could exactly count on their help. No, he was gonna have to deal with the situation at hand.
Particularly since he didn't actually have an invisible gun.
Fiona, though, was pissing him off less as she talked more. Sure she was way too fucking happy, no one should be that happy on Survival of the Fittest or, really, in general. But, look, she was playing along with this rebellion thing, and she wasn't freaking out, and she said she was going to help, and she had a ridiculously large axe. Lots of points in her favor. She wasn't Jeremy Franco, that was like twenty points right there. After he did his usual thing where he pretended Jeremy wasn't talking, he listened to her speak, and
"I...should we really be talking about it out loud like this? That Danya-dude can probably hear everything we're saying, right...?"
Right. Okay. He was an idiot.
Those were the kind of things he needed Mirabelle and, okay, maybe Liz around for. For making plans that made sense. Garrett Hunter was good at springing into action, he wasn't good at thinking shit through, but, really, did it matter now? They were already on the terrorist death squad wishlist, not like they could do anything e- oh wait, that only happened because Liz shut her collar down. Danya could just go ahead and pop them off at any moment, which was a real nice thought, Garrett really loved knowing that he could die at any goddamn moment, oh wait, that was this whole game.
"I just- if we're going to, um, fuck certain people over, perhaps we should be a little cautious about it? We don't want to be too reckless, you know? Organization is key!"
"Good point," Garrett said, raising an eyebrow unconsciously, as though an automatic reaction of disbelief that this girl could have made a good point. "Judging by the fact we're not all dead, either Danya and them aren't listening right now, or they don't think we're a big enough threat to bother getting rid of yet. Which is good for us. But if either of you have a notebook, and a pen, that would be really good. Passing notes and shit." He ignored the obvious fact that if Danya was listening, he would have heard that. Wasn't much else he could do. It was better than continually talking out loud, yeah?
"Now...I don't know where to go, honestly. I don't have a plan. I say we go forward and see what we can do...forward and away from here. Too many bodies here. Everything smells like shit."
He beckoned them forward as he walked. Out into nowhere. Just, away from here. And please, please away from these fucking tunnels. Never again.
[[Garrett Hunter continued in A Slight Change of Plans]]
Particularly since he didn't actually have an invisible gun.
Fiona, though, was pissing him off less as she talked more. Sure she was way too fucking happy, no one should be that happy on Survival of the Fittest or, really, in general. But, look, she was playing along with this rebellion thing, and she wasn't freaking out, and she said she was going to help, and she had a ridiculously large axe. Lots of points in her favor. She wasn't Jeremy Franco, that was like twenty points right there. After he did his usual thing where he pretended Jeremy wasn't talking, he listened to her speak, and
"I...should we really be talking about it out loud like this? That Danya-dude can probably hear everything we're saying, right...?"
Right. Okay. He was an idiot.
Those were the kind of things he needed Mirabelle and, okay, maybe Liz around for. For making plans that made sense. Garrett Hunter was good at springing into action, he wasn't good at thinking shit through, but, really, did it matter now? They were already on the terrorist death squad wishlist, not like they could do anything e- oh wait, that only happened because Liz shut her collar down. Danya could just go ahead and pop them off at any moment, which was a real nice thought, Garrett really loved knowing that he could die at any goddamn moment, oh wait, that was this whole game.
"I just- if we're going to, um, fuck certain people over, perhaps we should be a little cautious about it? We don't want to be too reckless, you know? Organization is key!"
"Good point," Garrett said, raising an eyebrow unconsciously, as though an automatic reaction of disbelief that this girl could have made a good point. "Judging by the fact we're not all dead, either Danya and them aren't listening right now, or they don't think we're a big enough threat to bother getting rid of yet. Which is good for us. But if either of you have a notebook, and a pen, that would be really good. Passing notes and shit." He ignored the obvious fact that if Danya was listening, he would have heard that. Wasn't much else he could do. It was better than continually talking out loud, yeah?
"Now...I don't know where to go, honestly. I don't have a plan. I say we go forward and see what we can do...forward and away from here. Too many bodies here. Everything smells like shit."
He beckoned them forward as he walked. Out into nowhere. Just, away from here. And please, please away from these fucking tunnels. Never again.
[[Garrett Hunter continued in A Slight Change of Plans]]
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Oh shit! Oh shit! Sparky was just dropping those truth bombs right out of the gate. If you talked out loud about your plans to fuck with the guys who could kill you with the press of a button, they might press that button and kill you. Haha, brilliant shit, this was why they needed her on the team, because Jeremy and Garrett sure as fuck weren't going to come up with ideas like that. Yeah, when you combined Sparky's brains, Garrett's brawn (sorry dude, you seem like a pretty brawny guy and also you are constantly pissed off at shit for no reason, so you are getting assigned to brawn), and Jeremy's...
Jeremy's...
Huh, yeah, not too many marketable skills in this kinda situation. He, umm... he was... no, stay away from any words like charm or charisma, because the moment you start attributing those to yourself is the moment they hand you your diploma from Asshole University.
Weeeell, he had that shit he'd been carrying in his pocket for a while now. And now seemed like as good a time as any to bust it out? On account of everything about the people's revolution going hush-hush, and on account of this thing already being in text form. There wouldn't even have to be that awkward thing where it's all like Hey you should read this thing while I explain what this thing is and oh you seem to already be reading it and not paying attention to me so I think I will just trail... off... then...
Instead he could just shove a scrap of paper in someone's face and get to work basking in reverent awe. Like where the hell did you get that radiant slice of impossible, Jeremy? What glorious figure stretched an arm down from heaven and let it gently drop in the palm of your hand? Guess what, bitches, Jeremy isn't telling, because we're not allowed to talk out loud anymore.
"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah. Roger that. Good ideas all around." Was that a dickish way to put that? Did people who weren't assholes... did they say roger that in contexts where there clearly wasn't a radio involved? Fuuuuuck. He was gonna die without ever getting an answer to that question, wasn't he.
So he picked up his shit and he followed along, followed the leader, followed along with the miracle still in his pocket. His miracle, which was-
- haha, wait, stupid Jeremy, there are way too many cameras around right now to go and just tell everyone what it is!
(Jeremy Franco continued in A Slight Change of Plans)
Jeremy's...
Huh, yeah, not too many marketable skills in this kinda situation. He, umm... he was... no, stay away from any words like charm or charisma, because the moment you start attributing those to yourself is the moment they hand you your diploma from Asshole University.
Weeeell, he had that shit he'd been carrying in his pocket for a while now. And now seemed like as good a time as any to bust it out? On account of everything about the people's revolution going hush-hush, and on account of this thing already being in text form. There wouldn't even have to be that awkward thing where it's all like Hey you should read this thing while I explain what this thing is and oh you seem to already be reading it and not paying attention to me so I think I will just trail... off... then...
Instead he could just shove a scrap of paper in someone's face and get to work basking in reverent awe. Like where the hell did you get that radiant slice of impossible, Jeremy? What glorious figure stretched an arm down from heaven and let it gently drop in the palm of your hand? Guess what, bitches, Jeremy isn't telling, because we're not allowed to talk out loud anymore.
"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah. Roger that. Good ideas all around." Was that a dickish way to put that? Did people who weren't assholes... did they say roger that in contexts where there clearly wasn't a radio involved? Fuuuuuck. He was gonna die without ever getting an answer to that question, wasn't he.
So he picked up his shit and he followed along, followed the leader, followed along with the miracle still in his pocket. His miracle, which was-
- haha, wait, stupid Jeremy, there are way too many cameras around right now to go and just tell everyone what it is!
(Jeremy Franco continued in A Slight Change of Plans)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Jonny. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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ZombiexCreame†
- Posts: 305
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:29 am
Score for Fiona! Garrett was actually agreeing with something that she was saying! This sent a wave of happiness through her body (as if she wasn't happy enough to begin with, but that was another topic entirely. It wasn't that Fiona was happy but...), and she couldn't help but clap to herself. She'd pat herself on the back too, but she didn't want to look too strange. Fiona twitched her mouth and willed her smile to disappear as Garrett explained that Danya probably didn't sense them as much of a thread, thus why they weren't completely dead.
Yes, that made some sense. Or, as he also mentioned, maybe he wasn't listening. Fiona thought this was entirely probable because, hell, there were a ton of students to listen to! Well over one-hundred. Could he be bothered to listen to everyone at the same time? Or could he be bothered to listen to three students standing around and talking about things that would perhaps never be. Fiona wasn't entirely sure, but she was sure that Danya was a busy man (probably getting a mani-pedi right now) and didn't always have the time to listen to every single student.
And that lead her to wonder whether she was at danger of randomly dying. Garrett and Jeremy had already been in some intense situations, and, yeah, if Danya wanted to, he could kill them now. However, Fiona hadn't done anything but fraternize with these two boys. Was she in danger? Should she leave now? ...She came to the conclusion that she was probably in danger, but she didn't care much. She already gave them her word that she would stick with them. How would she look if she ran away now?
She would probably look pretty awkward. She was never so great at running.
"I don't have a notebook, but I might a pen somewhere," Fiona admitted, rummaging through one of her bags. After a few seconds, she shook her head and commented cheerily, "Nope! No pen! I guess I was mistaken. We could always do hand-motions." Fiona didn't particularly think that hand-motions would be the greatest idea, but she thought it would be funny to see Garrett flail his hands around in order to get a point across. Fiona snorted at the thought and began to laugh quietly, trying to keep it inconspicuous but totally failing.
When she came up for air, Garrett was motioning for them to walk away. Look, he took her hand-motion comment seriously! Or... maybe not. It was sort of impossible to not use hand-motions, being a human and all. Looking back at Jeremy, Fiona shrugged and gathered her things, following behind Garrett. "Alrighty, let's go."
((Fiona Sparki continued in Deep Warm Drunk))
Yes, that made some sense. Or, as he also mentioned, maybe he wasn't listening. Fiona thought this was entirely probable because, hell, there were a ton of students to listen to! Well over one-hundred. Could he be bothered to listen to everyone at the same time? Or could he be bothered to listen to three students standing around and talking about things that would perhaps never be. Fiona wasn't entirely sure, but she was sure that Danya was a busy man (probably getting a mani-pedi right now) and didn't always have the time to listen to every single student.
And that lead her to wonder whether she was at danger of randomly dying. Garrett and Jeremy had already been in some intense situations, and, yeah, if Danya wanted to, he could kill them now. However, Fiona hadn't done anything but fraternize with these two boys. Was she in danger? Should she leave now? ...She came to the conclusion that she was probably in danger, but she didn't care much. She already gave them her word that she would stick with them. How would she look if she ran away now?
She would probably look pretty awkward. She was never so great at running.
"I don't have a notebook, but I might a pen somewhere," Fiona admitted, rummaging through one of her bags. After a few seconds, she shook her head and commented cheerily, "Nope! No pen! I guess I was mistaken. We could always do hand-motions." Fiona didn't particularly think that hand-motions would be the greatest idea, but she thought it would be funny to see Garrett flail his hands around in order to get a point across. Fiona snorted at the thought and began to laugh quietly, trying to keep it inconspicuous but totally failing.
When she came up for air, Garrett was motioning for them to walk away. Look, he took her hand-motion comment seriously! Or... maybe not. It was sort of impossible to not use hand-motions, being a human and all. Looking back at Jeremy, Fiona shrugged and gathered her things, following behind Garrett. "Alrighty, let's go."
((Fiona Sparki continued in Deep Warm Drunk))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler ZombiexCreame. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.