"Look Josh, I'm dead serious, Wanted sucked!"
"C'mon man! How? What other movie's can you name which has Angelina Jolie shooting shit up whilst driving a sweetass-looking car!"
"Yeah, but... Seriously? A LOOM? Thats how they choose who to kill? Not for money or anything, oh no... By listening to a machine that weaves cloth? Thats the silliest thing i've ever heard of!"
"Yeah, that... WAS kinda stupid... But at least you get to see Angelina Jolie partially naked, right?"
"Yeah, guess you're right..."
"Hehe, yeah...... Hey, uh, Marty? You with me man?"
"HELLOOO! Earth to Marty?"
"Marty?"
......
B07: Marty J. Lovett start
Ugh... Oh, god my head... Must have fallen asleep on the bus or something... God, what an awful dream...
It hadn't been a easy night for Marty J. Lovett. After falling asleep for little to no reason on the bus, he had found himself strapped to a chair in the middle of a huge auditorium. Surrounding him on all sides were his fellow classmates, hundreds of them. All bound to chairs in the same way he was. He couldn't spot Joshua anywhere, and even as he called his name out his voice was drowned out by everybody else's screams and yells. Suddenly there was gunfire, and he had to sit there and watch as his teachers where gunned down before him.
As the dream went on and on, it quickly became evident that he was dreaming about taking part in the next Survival of the Fittest. Although he knew now that couldn't be the case... There were over two hundred of the them for crying out loud! Its not as if they could kidnap two-hundred students without SOMEBODY noticing... That being said, it didn't stop him from crying like a baby in his dream. Hell, he could almost feel the tears still staining his cheeks. It was then that he realized how real the dream had seemed at the time... Guess he must have fallen asleep quite deeply then.
They even show'd clips from the previous SotF... Namely one of the most recent winner, J.R Rizzolo, killing a girl whose name Marty couldn't remember. That was odd... He can't remember ever actually watching SotF... He must have just made up the scene in his head then.
Still, either way, he was awake now. So he wouldn't have to worry about it any longer... Now, all he'd have to do is get off the grass and look for.....
.....
Wait a second... GRASS? Since when did I fall asleep on grass? Wasn't I on a bus? And come to think of it... Where the hell's Josh or the teachers?!?
He scrambled to his feet, finally taking note of his surroundings. He'd been too busy recollecting his dream, he hadn't taken notice of the fact that he wasn't on the bus anymore. Hell, he wasn't even at the camp-site they where heading to! He was in the middle of the woods, surrounded on all sides by trees of different breeds and variates... He couldn't spot anyone else around him from where he was standing. No buses, no students, no buildings, ANYTHING! He was all alone... And to make matters worse, he could feel a ring of metal around his neck.
"Oh no... Oh no no no no, god no... This... This isn't happening... It was a dream! A goddamn dream!"
Despite his complaints, there was no denying it. His dream as it turned out was actually real. Those WHERE his actual teaches being shot before his eyes. They HAD kidnapped the entire camping group. That was an ACTUAL clip of SotF that was played for all the students to watch in horror... And there really was tears on his cheeks.
He felt... sick. Like his legs were made of nothing but jelly, causing him to drop to his knees. He felt like throwing up on the spot, there and then from the sheer amount of stress that had fallen upon him like a ton of bricks. The entire world about him started to revolve, causing him to become even more dizzy as clawed at his head, not the least bit certain what to do at that moment other then curl up in a little ball and cry as he awaited for the inevitable to happen.
"WHY? Why me? Why the hell did this happen to me!" He sobbed, tears beginning to swell in his eyes again.
"This... is bullshit! I didn't deserve this!?! Hell, none of us did! Why the hell... What the hell am I going to do NOW?!?"
Shut the hell up Marty! Thats what you're going to do! Now calm down!
Eventually, he managed to calm himself down. He wiped away the tears from his eyes, the dizziness he felt before slowly dissipating. Allowing him to stand on his own two legs without falling over.
There... Now then, theres no reason to start breaking down yet. You're here now, thats for certain. And if you're going to live to see the end of tomorrow, then you have to stay FOCUSED!
"Y, yeah... Thats right..."
GOOD! Now then... Check the bag. They gave you a weapon, remember? It'll be best to check what it is first...
He hesitantly opened up the bag, feeling inside for what he'd been given. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to be honest, or what he wanted. Something he could defend himself, thats for sure... Maybe not necessarily a gun per se, but SOMETHING which you can legitimately defend yourself with.
Eventually, he felt something large and plastic. Like a small package that was still in its wrapping. Feeling somewhat confused, he quickly took out the package to see what it was. Sure enough, it turned out to be one of those small fold-up tents.
A tent? A FRIGGIN' TENT? How am I supposed to...?!? Oh, for the love of... Sigh, well... I guess it could have been worse. At least i'll be able to sleep comfortably... Ish.
He placed the tent back into his duffle bag and sighed to himself. He just stood there a moment, taking note of the surroundings around him. He took solace in the fact that he'd finally calmed himself down, finally put off the inevitable sense of paranoia that he was sure would envelop him eventually... He didn't think about the island, or Danya, or Joshua, or...
Oh god, JOSHUA! He's here too!
The sudden realisation shattered any hopes of keeping calm and collected.
Is he safe?!? Where the heck is he?!? Oh god... Oh god...
They're all here, aren't they? Everyone... Even..... Oh dear god...
He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to admit that not only was his best friend Joshua stuck on the island with him...But his first true crush Carol was also on the island as well.
He fell back onto his knees and started pounding the dirt over and over, cursing himself in frustration. Whilst it wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do at that moment, at the very least it helped him blow off steam. He just prayed to god that nobody came across him as he did so...
Woods of Paranoia
B07 Start
Woods of Paranoia
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
((B134 - Jimmy Brennan Start))
Jimmy Brennan was a boy with a plan, the second he had woken up. It was mere minutes into his game now, but he had already made three key decisions...
First, Jimmy Brennan had pissed his pants.
Waking up alone in the middle of the forest, Jimmy at first didn't realize what had occured. But as the memories had flooded back to him, fear and confusion overtook him. And as Jimmy began to understand that this could possibly be the last few hours of his existence, which would most likely conclude with one of his more violent classmates splitting his nutsack in two, he felt the ground grow very wet around him and he suddenly became aware he had spent the last two minutes completely soaking the front of his blue jeans in his urine.
The second thing Jimmy Brennan had done, was cried.
It came naturally to Jimmy, something he was rather ashamed to admit. Thankfully enough, he was fairly certain that he had gone absolutely ballistic during the actual debriefing so the tears ended rather quickly.
As Jimmy wiped the snot from his nose with his large green sweater, he began for the first time to really consider his surroundings. His bag, marked B134, lay next to him, presumably containing his weapons and supplies. His throat was raw (most likely another unpleasant after effect from going absoulutely hysterical during the debriefing, if he remembered correctly) and he was doused in sweat, not to mention urine.
Okay.. Okay Jimmy, get a hold of yourself. Christ, you need to think. Survival of the Fittest. That sick fucking TV show... yeah, never really were a fan of it... But come'on, what can you remember? People have gotten off. Yes! People who have WON have gotten off... But does that mean.. does that mean...
And then, it fully struck Jimmy the dire situation he had found himself in. He lept up off the ground and ripped into his pack, hyperventilating in horror.
They're out there. The fuckers who you deal with everyday. Phillip fucking Ward. The Jocks, the Psychopaths. They're out there, and they know YOU'RE here Jimmy. They know who you are, they know you'll be the big hero so they're COMING FOR YOU. THEY'RE HUNTING YOU DOWN, AND THEY'RE GONNA FUCKING MURDER YOU.
Jimmy's eyes opened wide with fear. His weapon. Where was his weapon?
Every student gets a weapon. He said that, that fat motherfucker said that! Where's my weapon!? Where is my weapon!?
Jimmy Brennan's hand wrapped around a cool metal object and he pulled a Can of Soda out of his bag. A Moxie Soda.
Jimmy Brennan realized he was completely, absolutely, 100% fucked. He began to scream. And then, picking up his pack and hastily throwing it over his shoulder, he made his third decision.
Jimmy Brennan ran through the woods, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Jimmy Brennan was a boy with a plan, the second he had woken up. It was mere minutes into his game now, but he had already made three key decisions...
First, Jimmy Brennan had pissed his pants.
Waking up alone in the middle of the forest, Jimmy at first didn't realize what had occured. But as the memories had flooded back to him, fear and confusion overtook him. And as Jimmy began to understand that this could possibly be the last few hours of his existence, which would most likely conclude with one of his more violent classmates splitting his nutsack in two, he felt the ground grow very wet around him and he suddenly became aware he had spent the last two minutes completely soaking the front of his blue jeans in his urine.
The second thing Jimmy Brennan had done, was cried.
It came naturally to Jimmy, something he was rather ashamed to admit. Thankfully enough, he was fairly certain that he had gone absolutely ballistic during the actual debriefing so the tears ended rather quickly.
As Jimmy wiped the snot from his nose with his large green sweater, he began for the first time to really consider his surroundings. His bag, marked B134, lay next to him, presumably containing his weapons and supplies. His throat was raw (most likely another unpleasant after effect from going absoulutely hysterical during the debriefing, if he remembered correctly) and he was doused in sweat, not to mention urine.
Okay.. Okay Jimmy, get a hold of yourself. Christ, you need to think. Survival of the Fittest. That sick fucking TV show... yeah, never really were a fan of it... But come'on, what can you remember? People have gotten off. Yes! People who have WON have gotten off... But does that mean.. does that mean...
And then, it fully struck Jimmy the dire situation he had found himself in. He lept up off the ground and ripped into his pack, hyperventilating in horror.
They're out there. The fuckers who you deal with everyday. Phillip fucking Ward. The Jocks, the Psychopaths. They're out there, and they know YOU'RE here Jimmy. They know who you are, they know you'll be the big hero so they're COMING FOR YOU. THEY'RE HUNTING YOU DOWN, AND THEY'RE GONNA FUCKING MURDER YOU.
Jimmy's eyes opened wide with fear. His weapon. Where was his weapon?
Every student gets a weapon. He said that, that fat motherfucker said that! Where's my weapon!? Where is my weapon!?
Jimmy Brennan's hand wrapped around a cool metal object and he pulled a Can of Soda out of his bag. A Moxie Soda.
Jimmy Brennan realized he was completely, absolutely, 100% fucked. He began to scream. And then, picking up his pack and hastily throwing it over his shoulder, he made his third decision.
Jimmy Brennan ran through the woods, screaming at the top of his lungs.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
(G036 - Carly Jean Dooley start)
"Hello? Hellllloooooooooooo?!"
Carly Jean Dooley had woken up, confused and disoriented but quite annoyed that someone had apparently decided to dump her out into a forest while she was sleeping on the bus. SURE, she was a sound sleeper, and YES, someone had once told her that she snored, but that didn't mean they had any right to just leave her in the middle of the woods like that!
"Hellllloooooooooooo?! REALLY mature, everyone!"
She thought she heard a sound in the distance. A guy yelling or something like that. Maybe George, she'd been sitting next to him on the bus and there's no way he would have had anything to do with this so maybe he was out here too.
Except that that didn't really sound like George. Whoever it was, they sounded pretty freaked out, even if she couldn't make out exactly what they were saying.
Carly was starting to feel a bit uneasy.
She stopped calling out and looked around her. There were trees. Trees all over the place. Where was everything else?
There was her backpack on the ground beside her. Nothing wrong with that, except that there was another pack beside it. A duffel bag.
Carly's hands had started to shake. Suddenly, it seemed like there were sounds all around her. Birds. Animals in the woods. That voice off in the distance, although she had no idea in which direction. ANOTHER voice, a different voice, also reached her ears. It sounded like crying. And.... she was starting to remember stuff. Stuff about them all being tied to a chair or something like that....
The duffel bag was black. It wasn't that big. It was a completely unremarkable bag. Except that it had her name on it. And a number. Thirty-six. Carly's jaw started to tremble. It was summertime, but she suddenly found that her teeth were knocking together.
She opened the bag.
--------------------
OH GOD IT'S THAT SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST THING I HEAR GUNSHOTS AND EXPLOSIONS HE KILLED THE FUCKING TEACHERS OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD
Carly Jean Dooley ran through the woods, screaming hoarsely and unintelligibly. She had no particular idea where she was going, and since she'd started to cry, she couldn't see far in front of her either. She could hear some other sounds around her, but whether they were of other students, armed soldiers, or rabid jaguars, she had no idea. All she knew was that everyone else was shooting each other, and she was going to die.
She certainly didn't notice the figure kneeling on the ground in front of her, or the person running headlong from the other direction.
"Hello? Hellllloooooooooooo?!"
Carly Jean Dooley had woken up, confused and disoriented but quite annoyed that someone had apparently decided to dump her out into a forest while she was sleeping on the bus. SURE, she was a sound sleeper, and YES, someone had once told her that she snored, but that didn't mean they had any right to just leave her in the middle of the woods like that!
"Hellllloooooooooooo?! REALLY mature, everyone!"
She thought she heard a sound in the distance. A guy yelling or something like that. Maybe George, she'd been sitting next to him on the bus and there's no way he would have had anything to do with this so maybe he was out here too.
Except that that didn't really sound like George. Whoever it was, they sounded pretty freaked out, even if she couldn't make out exactly what they were saying.
Carly was starting to feel a bit uneasy.
She stopped calling out and looked around her. There were trees. Trees all over the place. Where was everything else?
There was her backpack on the ground beside her. Nothing wrong with that, except that there was another pack beside it. A duffel bag.
Carly's hands had started to shake. Suddenly, it seemed like there were sounds all around her. Birds. Animals in the woods. That voice off in the distance, although she had no idea in which direction. ANOTHER voice, a different voice, also reached her ears. It sounded like crying. And.... she was starting to remember stuff. Stuff about them all being tied to a chair or something like that....
The duffel bag was black. It wasn't that big. It was a completely unremarkable bag. Except that it had her name on it. And a number. Thirty-six. Carly's jaw started to tremble. It was summertime, but she suddenly found that her teeth were knocking together.
She opened the bag.
--------------------
OH GOD IT'S THAT SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST THING I HEAR GUNSHOTS AND EXPLOSIONS HE KILLED THE FUCKING TEACHERS OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD
Carly Jean Dooley ran through the woods, screaming hoarsely and unintelligibly. She had no particular idea where she was going, and since she'd started to cry, she couldn't see far in front of her either. She could hear some other sounds around her, but whether they were of other students, armed soldiers, or rabid jaguars, she had no idea. All she knew was that everyone else was shooting each other, and she was going to die.
She certainly didn't notice the figure kneeling on the ground in front of her, or the person running headlong from the other direction.
Ugh never say never
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
-
JoystickHero†
- Posts: 30
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:34 am
B-152 - Keith Christoph - Start
"Go on, Keith. You'll enjoy the trip!" Mrs. Christoph had urged her son, pushing the young man out the door that morning, "I've already paid and packed your bags." Such proactive behavior from Keith's mother. He was certain she just wanted to get rid of him for a few days.
"Fine." If it'll get you off my back. Slamming the door behind him, Keith cursed under his breath, silently wishing he'd never have to see 'that bitch' again.
~~~
PAIN!
A sudden stabbing force in his side awoke Keith instantly, accompanied by what he would later recognize as the feeling of someone tripping over him. His body reflexively rolled and clambered away from the pain in a frantic bid for escape, pale hands and boot-clad kicking and scratching at the ground like a frightened animal's. It took several seconds for Keith to regain enough composure to stop and stand up. "Watch where the fuck you're going!" He shouted at no one in particular, face flushed with rage and embarrassment, before brushing himself off and looking around. Forest? Then were they...?
No. As the young man's mind sorted itself out, he too remembered the large room, and seeing five teachers gunned down. Served them right for being so stupid. Keith himself wasn't quite sure how to think of the situation, though if he had to voice an opinion, it'd be more positive than negative. Survival of the Fittest. He had seen the entire series, several times over. Worthless whiners and cruel backstabbers, runners and fighters, victims... and victors. And the whole world watching. The whole world... including his father. Father. Was he watching? Would he see his son? If he won, would he finally come back? Would he be proud? There was no way of knowing.
Finally coming out of his own little world, Keith looked around for his bag, the one all 'players' got. He grabbed it from where he'd been lying, ignoring the others in the area for a moment longer, as he looked for his weapon. Would it be something powerful? A gun, maybe? Or would he have to fight his way to the top with a tire iron, or a- "...piece of paper." Keith's mind refused to process the information it was given. That must've just been the instructions! He pulled out the sheet, and looked at it. "...'Nevada State Marriage Contract Forms'." He stared, and read it again. "Nevada State... Marriage... Contract Forms..."
This was a joke. It had to be. A sick joke. I'm the only worthwhile person in this pack of sheep! I'm the- Wolf. In sheep's clothing. Of course, anyone could blaze their way to victory with an M16. Only a true winner could do it with no weapon at all. I'll fight my way to the top, and prove that I'm above the pack. A dull ache in Keith's side pushed out all thoughts, and made him groan dramatically. Dammit, it feels like my kidney's busted. What the hell did that bitch do to me? He lifted his shirt, to look, expecting a massive splotch of purple in black. What he was greeted with, was... the same pale skin as always. M-most of the damage must just be internal. That's it. I'll just have to tough it out. He couldn't let the sheep know he was injured. They were panicking now, but as soon as they really got what was going on... He couldn't let them know he was at anything but 100%.
He looked up, and around at the others. No one was moving on him, yet. But it was only a matter of time.
"Go on, Keith. You'll enjoy the trip!" Mrs. Christoph had urged her son, pushing the young man out the door that morning, "I've already paid and packed your bags." Such proactive behavior from Keith's mother. He was certain she just wanted to get rid of him for a few days.
"Fine." If it'll get you off my back. Slamming the door behind him, Keith cursed under his breath, silently wishing he'd never have to see 'that bitch' again.
~~~
PAIN!
A sudden stabbing force in his side awoke Keith instantly, accompanied by what he would later recognize as the feeling of someone tripping over him. His body reflexively rolled and clambered away from the pain in a frantic bid for escape, pale hands and boot-clad kicking and scratching at the ground like a frightened animal's. It took several seconds for Keith to regain enough composure to stop and stand up. "Watch where the fuck you're going!" He shouted at no one in particular, face flushed with rage and embarrassment, before brushing himself off and looking around. Forest? Then were they...?
No. As the young man's mind sorted itself out, he too remembered the large room, and seeing five teachers gunned down. Served them right for being so stupid. Keith himself wasn't quite sure how to think of the situation, though if he had to voice an opinion, it'd be more positive than negative. Survival of the Fittest. He had seen the entire series, several times over. Worthless whiners and cruel backstabbers, runners and fighters, victims... and victors. And the whole world watching. The whole world... including his father. Father. Was he watching? Would he see his son? If he won, would he finally come back? Would he be proud? There was no way of knowing.
Finally coming out of his own little world, Keith looked around for his bag, the one all 'players' got. He grabbed it from where he'd been lying, ignoring the others in the area for a moment longer, as he looked for his weapon. Would it be something powerful? A gun, maybe? Or would he have to fight his way to the top with a tire iron, or a- "...piece of paper." Keith's mind refused to process the information it was given. That must've just been the instructions! He pulled out the sheet, and looked at it. "...'Nevada State Marriage Contract Forms'." He stared, and read it again. "Nevada State... Marriage... Contract Forms..."
This was a joke. It had to be. A sick joke. I'm the only worthwhile person in this pack of sheep! I'm the- Wolf. In sheep's clothing. Of course, anyone could blaze their way to victory with an M16. Only a true winner could do it with no weapon at all. I'll fight my way to the top, and prove that I'm above the pack. A dull ache in Keith's side pushed out all thoughts, and made him groan dramatically. Dammit, it feels like my kidney's busted. What the hell did that bitch do to me? He lifted his shirt, to look, expecting a massive splotch of purple in black. What he was greeted with, was... the same pale skin as always. M-most of the damage must just be internal. That's it. I'll just have to tough it out. He couldn't let the sheep know he was injured. They were panicking now, but as soon as they really got what was going on... He couldn't let them know he was at anything but 100%.
He looked up, and around at the others. No one was moving on him, yet. But it was only a matter of time.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler JoystickHero. 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.
Three distinct sounds brought Marty back to reality at that moment as he pummelled the floor hopelessly in frustration.
The first two were frantic screams. One from some girl on his left, and one from another girl on his right. Both of which seemed to be getting louder and louder, as if somebody was slowly turning up the volume on an ipod player as he wore a pair of headphones.
A hundred thoughts were going through the small boy's head at that moment... The first naturally being What the hell?!? The second being What's going on?!? and the third being Who the hell is screaming?!?
Then, seconds later, the third sound appeared. Namely a thump and a crashing noise followed by somebody shouting "Watch where the fuck you're going!"
By this point Marty hadn't the slightest clue what the hell was going on anymore... One second here he was, alone and crying to himself in the middle of some strange forest. Then all of a sudden BAM! Theres people screaming and shouting all over the place! And he had absolutely no freaking clue what the hell to do now that he was apparently not alone...
... Then, barely seconds after he'd heard the man shouting, he too felt a sudden pain in his side as somebody fell right over him.
The first two were frantic screams. One from some girl on his left, and one from another girl on his right. Both of which seemed to be getting louder and louder, as if somebody was slowly turning up the volume on an ipod player as he wore a pair of headphones.
A hundred thoughts were going through the small boy's head at that moment... The first naturally being What the hell?!? The second being What's going on?!? and the third being Who the hell is screaming?!?
Then, seconds later, the third sound appeared. Namely a thump and a crashing noise followed by somebody shouting "Watch where the fuck you're going!"
By this point Marty hadn't the slightest clue what the hell was going on anymore... One second here he was, alone and crying to himself in the middle of some strange forest. Then all of a sudden BAM! Theres people screaming and shouting all over the place! And he had absolutely no freaking clue what the hell to do now that he was apparently not alone...
... Then, barely seconds after he'd heard the man shouting, he too felt a sudden pain in his side as somebody fell right over him.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
The world was a blur.
Jimmy Brennan had never ran this fast in his life. Whenever it came time for track and field, he'd always hold back, not wanting to upstage everyone else. He always knew he was the most capable runner out there in reality. Because really, who needed running? Who cared about running? Running was for fags. Yes, he could easily outrun all the other boys. But he didn't want to. It was as simple as that. But that was then, before he was shoved on a deathshow in the middle of fuckall nowhere.
Now it was do or die. So he let go. Jimmy let go of everything. Thinking, feeling, all of it. Nothing else in the world was any concern to him anymore. It was pure raw fear that kept him moving. All he cared about was running as fast as he could. Legs pumping, he crashed through the forest, weaving in between trees, screaming at the top of his lungs .
I'M GOING TO DIE. I'M GOING TO DIE. PHILLIP WARD IS GOING TO FIND ME AND FUCK ME IN THE ASS.
"Fuck, fuck, fuckshit fuck fucker fuck fuck!!" He hollered as he barreled down a forest path.
It never occurred to Jimmy that these paths had a higher chance of being traversed by others, and may eventually lead to an open area. All he knew was that it was easier to run on the path, and if it was easier to run, holy shit, why was he even stopping to have second thoughts?
Jimmy wasn't thinking straight. He wasn't thinking at all to put it bluntly. His thought process was skewered, the reality was slowly sinking into him, taking hold of his brain stem and throttling him even as he ran.
I'm going to die. 275 kids, there's no way. That's like, a 1% chance, outta 275! They all hate me, they're all gunning for me! They're gonna' gang up on me, they're gonna bend me over and stick a .22 up my a-
Suddenly, the trees' cut off on either side of him, and Jimmy realized he was sprinting through a clearing in the forest. His throat was hoarse from the constant screaming, but he couldn't stop now, he wouldn't stop. His heart beat like a war drum in his chest, his body was drenched with sweat. His pack swung side to side with every hectic footfall.
There was a boy standing a few feet away.
Jimmy felt his voice crack as his scream became higher pitched, he dug his heels into the ground, trying to come to a halt, kicking up dirt in front of the boy. His eyes began to water and his face grew even more red.
OH GOD ALMIGHTY, JESUS FAGGOT FUCKING CHRIST I'M DEAD. GAME OVER. DANYA 1, BRENNAN 0....
Jimmy would have pissed himself again, had his bladder not been completely empty at this point. He swung about, his pack flying through the air.
He had to keep running. He had to get away. He was right there. His DEATH was right there, waiting for him. But if Jimmy Brennan was going to meet the Reaper, death was going to have to catch him first.
Jimmy didn't even have time to think as he twirled around and tried to run into the forest. A blurry shape exploded out of the tree line, flying straight towards him. At first, he thought the blurry shape didn't concern him. But as he sprinted towards it, he realized all too late he was on a collision course.
He screamed.
The girl screamed.
Jimmy slammed into her full force, inadvertently clotheslined by her flailing arms. The air was knocked out of him and his feet lifted off the ground from the impact.
As he sailed through the air, Jimmy spent a few seconds trying to think of something cool to picture before he died. To his anger, all he could think about were puppies for some reason.
He landed on his head and quickly crumpled into a ball in the dirt. Silence.
Jimmy realized he still had some tears left in him and began to sob uncontrollably as he awaited death.
Jimmy Brennan had never ran this fast in his life. Whenever it came time for track and field, he'd always hold back, not wanting to upstage everyone else. He always knew he was the most capable runner out there in reality. Because really, who needed running? Who cared about running? Running was for fags. Yes, he could easily outrun all the other boys. But he didn't want to. It was as simple as that. But that was then, before he was shoved on a deathshow in the middle of fuckall nowhere.
Now it was do or die. So he let go. Jimmy let go of everything. Thinking, feeling, all of it. Nothing else in the world was any concern to him anymore. It was pure raw fear that kept him moving. All he cared about was running as fast as he could. Legs pumping, he crashed through the forest, weaving in between trees, screaming at the top of his lungs .
I'M GOING TO DIE. I'M GOING TO DIE. PHILLIP WARD IS GOING TO FIND ME AND FUCK ME IN THE ASS.
"Fuck, fuck, fuckshit fuck fucker fuck fuck!!" He hollered as he barreled down a forest path.
It never occurred to Jimmy that these paths had a higher chance of being traversed by others, and may eventually lead to an open area. All he knew was that it was easier to run on the path, and if it was easier to run, holy shit, why was he even stopping to have second thoughts?
Jimmy wasn't thinking straight. He wasn't thinking at all to put it bluntly. His thought process was skewered, the reality was slowly sinking into him, taking hold of his brain stem and throttling him even as he ran.
I'm going to die. 275 kids, there's no way. That's like, a 1% chance, outta 275! They all hate me, they're all gunning for me! They're gonna' gang up on me, they're gonna bend me over and stick a .22 up my a-
Suddenly, the trees' cut off on either side of him, and Jimmy realized he was sprinting through a clearing in the forest. His throat was hoarse from the constant screaming, but he couldn't stop now, he wouldn't stop. His heart beat like a war drum in his chest, his body was drenched with sweat. His pack swung side to side with every hectic footfall.
There was a boy standing a few feet away.
Jimmy felt his voice crack as his scream became higher pitched, he dug his heels into the ground, trying to come to a halt, kicking up dirt in front of the boy. His eyes began to water and his face grew even more red.
OH GOD ALMIGHTY, JESUS FAGGOT FUCKING CHRIST I'M DEAD. GAME OVER. DANYA 1, BRENNAN 0....
Jimmy would have pissed himself again, had his bladder not been completely empty at this point. He swung about, his pack flying through the air.
He had to keep running. He had to get away. He was right there. His DEATH was right there, waiting for him. But if Jimmy Brennan was going to meet the Reaper, death was going to have to catch him first.
Jimmy didn't even have time to think as he twirled around and tried to run into the forest. A blurry shape exploded out of the tree line, flying straight towards him. At first, he thought the blurry shape didn't concern him. But as he sprinted towards it, he realized all too late he was on a collision course.
He screamed.
The girl screamed.
Jimmy slammed into her full force, inadvertently clotheslined by her flailing arms. The air was knocked out of him and his feet lifted off the ground from the impact.
As he sailed through the air, Jimmy spent a few seconds trying to think of something cool to picture before he died. To his anger, all he could think about were puppies for some reason.
He landed on his head and quickly crumpled into a ball in the dirt. Silence.
Jimmy realized he still had some tears left in him and began to sob uncontrollably as he awaited death.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
MRS. KLIEBER GOT SHOT AND THAT ONE OLD TEACHER GOT SHOT AND THAT WAS A GUNSHOT NOW THEY'RE SHOOTING AT ME THEY'RE SHOOTING AT ME THEY'RE STABBING AT ME AND EXPLOSIONS EE EEE EE E EE E E E E
Unseeing, her right foot slammed into something, and any chance Carly had of controlling her forward momentum went straight down the toilet. Screaming, her arms pinwheeling, she pitched ahead, somehow managing to stay on her feet long enough to make it into the clearing.
Someone was yelling behind her, and she wanted to look to see, but she was too busy watching her feet and realizing that she was about to go down HARD, and then she happened to glance up just as the redheaded form of Jimmy Brennan veered directly at her.
Jimmy Brennan was screaming, too.
In the fraction of a second before collision, Carly was suddenly reminded of Saturday morning cartoons where any collision would result in nothing more than a big dust cloud, and they'd all end up fine. Unfortunately, she knew that Saturday morning cartoons were big fucking liars. She decided that she hated them forever. Then they hit.
Carly's flailing arm nailed Jimmy right across the collar bone, while at the same time his shoulder buried itself right in her chest and their knees knocked against each other. She briefly saw Jimmy leave his feet, and then she was bounced to her left, twirling like a drunken ballerina, before she fell over Marty Lovett and finally, mercifully, landed on the ground, still crying and gasping for breath. She hurt all over.
Unseeing, her right foot slammed into something, and any chance Carly had of controlling her forward momentum went straight down the toilet. Screaming, her arms pinwheeling, she pitched ahead, somehow managing to stay on her feet long enough to make it into the clearing.
Someone was yelling behind her, and she wanted to look to see, but she was too busy watching her feet and realizing that she was about to go down HARD, and then she happened to glance up just as the redheaded form of Jimmy Brennan veered directly at her.
Jimmy Brennan was screaming, too.
In the fraction of a second before collision, Carly was suddenly reminded of Saturday morning cartoons where any collision would result in nothing more than a big dust cloud, and they'd all end up fine. Unfortunately, she knew that Saturday morning cartoons were big fucking liars. She decided that she hated them forever. Then they hit.
Carly's flailing arm nailed Jimmy right across the collar bone, while at the same time his shoulder buried itself right in her chest and their knees knocked against each other. She briefly saw Jimmy leave his feet, and then she was bounced to her left, twirling like a drunken ballerina, before she fell over Marty Lovett and finally, mercifully, landed on the ground, still crying and gasping for breath. She hurt all over.
Ugh never say never
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
-
JoystickHero†
- Posts: 30
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:34 am
Any fear Keith had that the two people in front of him were plotting against him drained completely out of the young man as the spectacle in front of him unfolded. At least for the moment. If he had a decent weapon, he could've easily picked them both off right then and there. But, unarmed... Keith brushed his fingers over the steel collar around his neck. It had long since ceased to be cold, warmed by the heat of his stubborn life, ever-prepared to end him, along with itself, if it was disturbed.
Keith had to imagine that being decapitated by explosives would be painful. His brain would still be alive for almost a minute, if his facts were straight, unable to gasp for air, or scream. He would only be able to suffer in agony as his life slipped away...
No. He reassured himself. that's NOT going to happen. Of course, dramatically proclaiming something in your head and getting said something OUT of your head are two totally different things, so Keith was stuck shuddering as his mind played a million scenarios, all ending in his collar exploding. It took almost a minute for Keith to become aware of his surroundings again. ...They're sheep, they probably don't even plan to play. Maybe one of them got a useful weapon. If not, at least it'll put a couple of warm bodies between me and the first 'player' we meet. Assuming there's anyone among the sheep with the balls to do it.
"You two didn't kill yourselves, did you?" Keith questioned them disdainfully, his self-righteousness coming easily even in a situation like this. "If you did, at least you'll stop screaming. You gave me a fucking headache."
Keith had to imagine that being decapitated by explosives would be painful. His brain would still be alive for almost a minute, if his facts were straight, unable to gasp for air, or scream. He would only be able to suffer in agony as his life slipped away...
No. He reassured himself. that's NOT going to happen. Of course, dramatically proclaiming something in your head and getting said something OUT of your head are two totally different things, so Keith was stuck shuddering as his mind played a million scenarios, all ending in his collar exploding. It took almost a minute for Keith to become aware of his surroundings again. ...They're sheep, they probably don't even plan to play. Maybe one of them got a useful weapon. If not, at least it'll put a couple of warm bodies between me and the first 'player' we meet. Assuming there's anyone among the sheep with the balls to do it.
"You two didn't kill yourselves, did you?" Keith questioned them disdainfully, his self-righteousness coming easily even in a situation like this. "If you did, at least you'll stop screaming. You gave me a fucking headache."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler JoystickHero. 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.
Okay, what the hell just happened?!?
It all happened so fast. So fast that Marty barely had time to even register the girl tripping over him before suddenly hearing that same angry voice shouting obscenities at everyone.
Just who the hell IS that guy anyway? And how the hell didn't I spot him earlier?!?
The short boy quickly scrambled backwards onto his feet, leaning his back against the first tree he came across. His eyes darted about the place, his heart pumping as he observed the three newcomers who'd quite literally bumped into him.
The first person he noticed was Carly, the same girl who'd just tripped over him moments ago. He couldn't tell if she'd been particularly hurt or not... Either way, judging from the way she was screaming, she was probably scared out of her mind right now...
Then there was the other screaming girl... No wait, make that the other screaming GUY. Jimmy Brennan to be precise... Great. It just HAD to be that asshole, didn't it?
As for the third person, he still hadn't a clue who the hell it was at first, or even where they where for that matter... It took a while until he spotted the guy out of the corner of his eye, partially hidden behind a bush a few several metres away from him... Shit! He was there the whole time?!? What the FUCK man!
This wasn't good. Not good in the slightest. Here he was, stuck in the middle of the woods, in the middle of a strange island, in the middle of frigging NOWHERE! With three other potentially dangerous people, at least one of whom he knew for definite meant nothing but trouble. And he had absolutely no idea what to do or say next...
Shit! Shit! SHIT! SHIT!!!
It all happened so fast. So fast that Marty barely had time to even register the girl tripping over him before suddenly hearing that same angry voice shouting obscenities at everyone.
Just who the hell IS that guy anyway? And how the hell didn't I spot him earlier?!?
The short boy quickly scrambled backwards onto his feet, leaning his back against the first tree he came across. His eyes darted about the place, his heart pumping as he observed the three newcomers who'd quite literally bumped into him.
The first person he noticed was Carly, the same girl who'd just tripped over him moments ago. He couldn't tell if she'd been particularly hurt or not... Either way, judging from the way she was screaming, she was probably scared out of her mind right now...
Then there was the other screaming girl... No wait, make that the other screaming GUY. Jimmy Brennan to be precise... Great. It just HAD to be that asshole, didn't it?
As for the third person, he still hadn't a clue who the hell it was at first, or even where they where for that matter... It took a while until he spotted the guy out of the corner of his eye, partially hidden behind a bush a few several metres away from him... Shit! He was there the whole time?!? What the FUCK man!
This wasn't good. Not good in the slightest. Here he was, stuck in the middle of the woods, in the middle of a strange island, in the middle of frigging NOWHERE! With three other potentially dangerous people, at least one of whom he knew for definite meant nothing but trouble. And he had absolutely no idea what to do or say next...
Shit! Shit! SHIT! SHIT!!!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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.
-
Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
"You two didn't kill yourselves, did you?"
Jimmy looked up. His head was spinning, no not his head, the world was spinning. It was the worlds fault that Jimmy was so beat up this early, not his own. Jimmy glanced around, looking for the voice. Would this be his killer? He put a hand up against his pounding head and rolled over on the ground.
What in the fuck happened? Who the fuck ran into me?
Jimmy looked over across the ground. A girl was laying down in the dirt near him, gibbering incoherently and gasping for breath.
"Jeez. Watch where you're going, you big crybaby." He said curtly.
"If you did, at least you'll stop screaming. You gave me a fucking headache."
Jimmy spun around, the shit suddenly scared straight out of him. Keith Christoph stepped out of the woods towards the group. Jimmy felt his face burning red. What the hell was this guy doing, walking around like nothing was wrong? They were going to have to kill each other. KILL each other. And he was cracking jokes at him. At Jimmy Brennan! Who the fuck said he could do that?
This is great. This is just what I need. This smarmy little fuckface, ruining my day. HAHA! He ruined my day! Not the whole 'I'm going to get turned into someones lil' bitch then get my brains blown out on this island in the middle of fucking nowhere', NO NO that didn't ruin my day whatsoever! No he did, because he's just that FUCKING GAY SNEAKING UP BEHIND ME. FUCK YOU KEITH. FUCK YOUR FUCKING FACE.
Jimmy snarled at the boy as he struggled upwards, to his feet. He wiped the snot and tears from his face with the back of his hand.
"FUCK OFF KEITH. SERIOUSLY. Grab your dick, and FUCK THE FUCK OFF." Jimmy spread his hands wide, and scowled at the boy.
"What, you a fuckin' retard or something? This is life and death! We're going to die here. All of us. I know you Keith, you're a stupid bastard, and stupid bastards aren't smart! Or strong! And you need strength to win, that's why they call it Survival of the Fittest! Hell, I know I'm strong, but even I'm as good as fucked against the Kronwalls' o-or fuckin' brickwalls' like J.J or Roland Hayes! The fuck you got? A gun? Well LUCKY FUCKIN' DUCK, the other guys got a shotgun! Guess who's dead? GUESS!! You! You fucking fuckface!"
Jimmy broke off from his speech, barely holding back a choking sob. He took a step back from the boy, his eyes darting from Keith to the tree line. Another boy (Marty was it?) stood a few feet away, Jimmy'd been pretty much oblivious to his presence since the collision but as he suddenly noticed him again he flinched back. He backed up again, keeping them both in view.
They're gonna try to kill me. Motherfuckers gonna try to kill me!
"You motherfuckers are dead! Fucking dead! You don't got what it takes! I've got what it takes, but even I'M FUCKED! Do you know how screwed you are then? DOUBLE. Holy Mother of CUNT, our like- fuckin'- life clock! It's down in the hours now! HOURS! If a couple hours, everyone we know at Bayview will be dead! You! Samya! ME!"
He began to wave his hands about frantically, to emphasizes his statements. Out of the corner of his eye, Jimmy glanced back towards the groaning girl who lay near the boy (He was fairly certain that the boy was named Marty). He stamped on the ground and shot out his finger at her.
"CRAIG HOYLE IS GOING TO RAPE YOU AND WEAR YOUR SKIN AS A COAT!" He squealed.
Panting from overexertion, he looked back towards Keith. He raised his hand, shooting the boy the finger.
"So motherfucker, you want a piece of Jimmy? Do ya'? Because I know you do! I know you all do! So who's gonna make the first move!? Who's gonna try to cut JIMMY BRENNAN!? Because I'm gonna fuckin' die!" He gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists.
"But I'm sure as holy fuck not gonna get killed by bitchasses like you! So bring it! Everyone in this fuckin' school always hated me, so bring it! I know you wanna kill Jimmy Brennan, so just fuckin' try! I'll take you down motherfucker! Because you ain't shit! You ain't nothin'! I'LL FUCK YOUR SHIT UP!!"
Jimmy's felt the blood pumping through him. He bounced from foot to foot, watching the other three, waiting for the first strike. He was ready. He wasn't going down crying. Not now, not ever again for the rest of his god damn life. A song he couldn't quite recognize began to play in his head. In layman's terms, Jimmy Brennan had absolutely lost his shit.
Jimmy looked up. His head was spinning, no not his head, the world was spinning. It was the worlds fault that Jimmy was so beat up this early, not his own. Jimmy glanced around, looking for the voice. Would this be his killer? He put a hand up against his pounding head and rolled over on the ground.
What in the fuck happened? Who the fuck ran into me?
Jimmy looked over across the ground. A girl was laying down in the dirt near him, gibbering incoherently and gasping for breath.
"Jeez. Watch where you're going, you big crybaby." He said curtly.
"If you did, at least you'll stop screaming. You gave me a fucking headache."
Jimmy spun around, the shit suddenly scared straight out of him. Keith Christoph stepped out of the woods towards the group. Jimmy felt his face burning red. What the hell was this guy doing, walking around like nothing was wrong? They were going to have to kill each other. KILL each other. And he was cracking jokes at him. At Jimmy Brennan! Who the fuck said he could do that?
This is great. This is just what I need. This smarmy little fuckface, ruining my day. HAHA! He ruined my day! Not the whole 'I'm going to get turned into someones lil' bitch then get my brains blown out on this island in the middle of fucking nowhere', NO NO that didn't ruin my day whatsoever! No he did, because he's just that FUCKING GAY SNEAKING UP BEHIND ME. FUCK YOU KEITH. FUCK YOUR FUCKING FACE.
Jimmy snarled at the boy as he struggled upwards, to his feet. He wiped the snot and tears from his face with the back of his hand.
"FUCK OFF KEITH. SERIOUSLY. Grab your dick, and FUCK THE FUCK OFF." Jimmy spread his hands wide, and scowled at the boy.
"What, you a fuckin' retard or something? This is life and death! We're going to die here. All of us. I know you Keith, you're a stupid bastard, and stupid bastards aren't smart! Or strong! And you need strength to win, that's why they call it Survival of the Fittest! Hell, I know I'm strong, but even I'm as good as fucked against the Kronwalls' o-or fuckin' brickwalls' like J.J or Roland Hayes! The fuck you got? A gun? Well LUCKY FUCKIN' DUCK, the other guys got a shotgun! Guess who's dead? GUESS!! You! You fucking fuckface!"
Jimmy broke off from his speech, barely holding back a choking sob. He took a step back from the boy, his eyes darting from Keith to the tree line. Another boy (Marty was it?) stood a few feet away, Jimmy'd been pretty much oblivious to his presence since the collision but as he suddenly noticed him again he flinched back. He backed up again, keeping them both in view.
They're gonna try to kill me. Motherfuckers gonna try to kill me!
"You motherfuckers are dead! Fucking dead! You don't got what it takes! I've got what it takes, but even I'M FUCKED! Do you know how screwed you are then? DOUBLE. Holy Mother of CUNT, our like- fuckin'- life clock! It's down in the hours now! HOURS! If a couple hours, everyone we know at Bayview will be dead! You! Samya! ME!"
He began to wave his hands about frantically, to emphasizes his statements. Out of the corner of his eye, Jimmy glanced back towards the groaning girl who lay near the boy (He was fairly certain that the boy was named Marty). He stamped on the ground and shot out his finger at her.
"CRAIG HOYLE IS GOING TO RAPE YOU AND WEAR YOUR SKIN AS A COAT!" He squealed.
Panting from overexertion, he looked back towards Keith. He raised his hand, shooting the boy the finger.
"So motherfucker, you want a piece of Jimmy? Do ya'? Because I know you do! I know you all do! So who's gonna make the first move!? Who's gonna try to cut JIMMY BRENNAN!? Because I'm gonna fuckin' die!" He gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists.
"But I'm sure as holy fuck not gonna get killed by bitchasses like you! So bring it! Everyone in this fuckin' school always hated me, so bring it! I know you wanna kill Jimmy Brennan, so just fuckin' try! I'll take you down motherfucker! Because you ain't shit! You ain't nothin'! I'LL FUCK YOUR SHIT UP!!"
Jimmy's felt the blood pumping through him. He bounced from foot to foot, watching the other three, waiting for the first strike. He was ready. He wasn't going down crying. Not now, not ever again for the rest of his god damn life. A song he couldn't quite recognize began to play in his head. In layman's terms, Jimmy Brennan had absolutely lost his shit.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
An authoritative voice or two told Carly to stop screaming, so she did. At least that's what she thought, until she realized that she was actually flopped on the ground like a dying fish, still trying to scream and just no longer making noise. But that realization was enough to make her regain control of herself. Slightly. To a very, very small degree. But at least she'd stopped screaming for the moment.
As everyone in the area tried to gather themselves following the collision, Carly somehow found herself in a seated position on the ground. Quite reasonably to her, she balled her hands into fists and began hitting herself in the head with them. She saw Marty Lovett sitting next to her, looking completely out of it. HA! HA HA!! At least she was handling this better than Marty Lovett was, because he wasn't reacting at all! Take that, Marty Lovett!
Then hitting herself in the head had started to hurt too much, so she settled for just grabbing clumps of her hair and rocking slightly. MUCH BETTER. She was also starting to make some kind of kind of low guttural squealing moaning sound thing, and that was MUCH BETTER than screaming. She was handling this whole thing very well, except that she was ABOUT TO DIE OH GOD.
As Jimmy started into his raging rant, Carly tried not to pay attention to him, because she had to think, she was smart she could do this and oh god now JIMMY BRENNAN WAS YELLING AT ANOTHER GUY THAT WAS THERE HOW COULD SHE THINK WHEN JIMMY BRENNAN WAS YELLING WHAT DID HE JUST SAY ABOUT CRAIG HOYLE?!?
With that, Carly pressed her forearms against her ears, trying to shut out the noise. How could this get any worse? She was here on Survival of the Fittest, and she was supposed to survive with JIMMY BRENNAN?! She couldn't survive with Jimmy Brennan! He was JIMMY BRENNAN!! And Marty Lovett? MARTY LOVETT? He was a loser nerd thing! And, and... SOME OTHER GUY? That she didn't even really know? NO WAY MISTER, NOT CARLY JEAN DOOLEY, SHE WAS DEAD with them.
Run away. Yes, she needed to run away. But not right now, because she couldn't and she was too afraid to even get up. And if she did get up, then she was scream again. And she might get shot. Or stabbed. No, right now Carly Jean needed to keep her keister on the ground and her hair in her hands.
As everyone in the area tried to gather themselves following the collision, Carly somehow found herself in a seated position on the ground. Quite reasonably to her, she balled her hands into fists and began hitting herself in the head with them. She saw Marty Lovett sitting next to her, looking completely out of it. HA! HA HA!! At least she was handling this better than Marty Lovett was, because he wasn't reacting at all! Take that, Marty Lovett!
Then hitting herself in the head had started to hurt too much, so she settled for just grabbing clumps of her hair and rocking slightly. MUCH BETTER. She was also starting to make some kind of kind of low guttural squealing moaning sound thing, and that was MUCH BETTER than screaming. She was handling this whole thing very well, except that she was ABOUT TO DIE OH GOD.
As Jimmy started into his raging rant, Carly tried not to pay attention to him, because she had to think, she was smart she could do this and oh god now JIMMY BRENNAN WAS YELLING AT ANOTHER GUY THAT WAS THERE HOW COULD SHE THINK WHEN JIMMY BRENNAN WAS YELLING WHAT DID HE JUST SAY ABOUT CRAIG HOYLE?!?
With that, Carly pressed her forearms against her ears, trying to shut out the noise. How could this get any worse? She was here on Survival of the Fittest, and she was supposed to survive with JIMMY BRENNAN?! She couldn't survive with Jimmy Brennan! He was JIMMY BRENNAN!! And Marty Lovett? MARTY LOVETT? He was a loser nerd thing! And, and... SOME OTHER GUY? That she didn't even really know? NO WAY MISTER, NOT CARLY JEAN DOOLEY, SHE WAS DEAD with them.
Run away. Yes, she needed to run away. But not right now, because she couldn't and she was too afraid to even get up. And if she did get up, then she was scream again. And she might get shot. Or stabbed. No, right now Carly Jean needed to keep her keister on the ground and her hair in her hands.
Ugh never say never
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
-
JoystickHero†
- Posts: 30
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:34 am
At first, Keith was pleasantly surprised (or as close to it as he could be) by the positive change of surroundings. Partially positive, at least. Ok, well, the girl stopped screaming. She was still freaking out, but in a much quieter, easier to ignore way. Fine by him. Unfortunately, the other one was apparently a nutjob, and was now attempting to break the record for most uses of the word 'fuck' in one minute. ...and challenging Keith to a fight.
Fuck.
Fights meant injuries. Injuries meant pain. Pain bad. In any other situation, Keith would've panicked and fled just like the others. But no, that wasn't how the Fittest would act. He couldn't expect his father to be proud of him if he saw the young man fleeing like a little girl. No, Keith wouldn't run, and he most certainly wouldn't wet himse- ...fuck. Keith turned to the side, walking back into the foliage, hopefully hiding the slightly darker spot on his black-and-gray pants from the lunatic before him.
"You're completely insane."
Fuck.
Fights meant injuries. Injuries meant pain. Pain bad. In any other situation, Keith would've panicked and fled just like the others. But no, that wasn't how the Fittest would act. He couldn't expect his father to be proud of him if he saw the young man fleeing like a little girl. No, Keith wouldn't run, and he most certainly wouldn't wet himse- ...fuck. Keith turned to the side, walking back into the foliage, hopefully hiding the slightly darker spot on his black-and-gray pants from the lunatic before him.
"You're completely insane."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler JoystickHero. 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.
Jesus Christ, what the FUCK is wrong with him?!?
Marty knew from the start that Jimmy Brennan's presence would only exacerbate things. He'd seen what the little bastard was like back at Bayview... Seen the way he'd start fights with bodybuilders twice his size at the drop of a hat. Fights which, more often than not, would end with ginger bastard having the living shit beaten out of him. Its like the guy never learned his lesson, as if he never got the hint that starting fights with guys like Philip Ward ISN'T a particularly bright idea. Unless being beaten to a pulp was suddenly seen as being a very hip and cool thing to do.
The fact of the matter was, however, that trouble followed Jimmy Brennan like an obsessed puppy. You could be guaranteed that whenever he was around something bad was bound to happen sooner or later... And Marty didn't doubt for a second that wouldn't change here of all places.
That being said, he hadn't quite expected him to go completely batshit INSANE!
Well, okay. Maybe not insane... But from the looks of things he was definitely halfway there already. Without so much as a word of warning, he just suddenly burst into a tirade of unintelligible curses and ramblings about how fucked they all were. There was so many F-bombs being dropped repeatedly over and over again that it almost felt like he was in the middle of a Quentin Tarantino movie... Who the fuck does he think he is, Tony Montana?!? Fuck, now he's even got ME dropping F-bombs now...
As ridiculous as it all seemed, Marty couldn't help but admit that actually somewhat... Well, terrifying. He hated to admit it, but everything Jimmy was saying was more-or-less true. None of them had the slightest chance of getting off the island alive. Not Jimmy, not Carly, not Keith, and ESPECIALLY not himself of all people. They were all doomed the second they got on that bus...
... It was at that point that another thought hit him unexpectedly.
They're... They're going to be after me, aren't they? Maybe not now, but eventually everyone on the island's going to try to kill me! Not beat me up, or humiliate me... They're going to try and fucking KILL me!
I mean, none of them are going to try and off their friends are they? I can't think of anybody who'd be able to stand the guilt of doing such a thing to someone they know and love dearly...
But me? I'm a nobody. I don't HAVE any friends or acquaintances! Not many anyway... I'll just be an easy kill! You can't feel sorry for a guy you hardly even know, right? I'm just an extra! Bonus points for all the actual killers out there! I may as well be wearing a big fucking red shirt with the letters "CANNON FODDER" written on it in glitter!
Whose going to miss me when I'm gone? Joshua? Natalie? Maybe even my parents? Apart from them, NOBODY! Friggin' NOBODY! Whats going to stop people from killing the guy whose name they barely remember anyway?
Oh god... Oh fucking GOD!
Once again, panic began to grip him. He began to shake violently, sweat freely pouring from his brow. He felt as if he would throw up any second, emptying the contents of his stomach all over the floor like he almost did during the school prom. He knew he had to get out of there, get away from all these people before they decided to descend upon him like a pack of vultures. His eyes darted about the place, looking desperately for an opening for him to escape...
Gotta get out of here... Gotta get out of here... GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!
"Y... You're crazy, you know that?!? YOU'RE ALL FUCKING CRAZY!!!"
And on that note, he grabbed his bag and ran. Ran as fast as his short legs could carry him. He had no idea where he was heading, which direction he was heading, or even what he'd do once he got there. All he knew at that moment was that he had to get away. Get as FAR away from every other living soul on this entire island... He was going to die, that was inevitable. But at the very least he could put off death as long as he could...
Why me?!? Of all the motherfuckers in the world who deserved this, why the hell did this have to happen to ME?!?
((Marty J. Lovett continued in Conquistador))
Marty knew from the start that Jimmy Brennan's presence would only exacerbate things. He'd seen what the little bastard was like back at Bayview... Seen the way he'd start fights with bodybuilders twice his size at the drop of a hat. Fights which, more often than not, would end with ginger bastard having the living shit beaten out of him. Its like the guy never learned his lesson, as if he never got the hint that starting fights with guys like Philip Ward ISN'T a particularly bright idea. Unless being beaten to a pulp was suddenly seen as being a very hip and cool thing to do.
The fact of the matter was, however, that trouble followed Jimmy Brennan like an obsessed puppy. You could be guaranteed that whenever he was around something bad was bound to happen sooner or later... And Marty didn't doubt for a second that wouldn't change here of all places.
That being said, he hadn't quite expected him to go completely batshit INSANE!
Well, okay. Maybe not insane... But from the looks of things he was definitely halfway there already. Without so much as a word of warning, he just suddenly burst into a tirade of unintelligible curses and ramblings about how fucked they all were. There was so many F-bombs being dropped repeatedly over and over again that it almost felt like he was in the middle of a Quentin Tarantino movie... Who the fuck does he think he is, Tony Montana?!? Fuck, now he's even got ME dropping F-bombs now...
As ridiculous as it all seemed, Marty couldn't help but admit that actually somewhat... Well, terrifying. He hated to admit it, but everything Jimmy was saying was more-or-less true. None of them had the slightest chance of getting off the island alive. Not Jimmy, not Carly, not Keith, and ESPECIALLY not himself of all people. They were all doomed the second they got on that bus...
... It was at that point that another thought hit him unexpectedly.
They're... They're going to be after me, aren't they? Maybe not now, but eventually everyone on the island's going to try to kill me! Not beat me up, or humiliate me... They're going to try and fucking KILL me!
I mean, none of them are going to try and off their friends are they? I can't think of anybody who'd be able to stand the guilt of doing such a thing to someone they know and love dearly...
But me? I'm a nobody. I don't HAVE any friends or acquaintances! Not many anyway... I'll just be an easy kill! You can't feel sorry for a guy you hardly even know, right? I'm just an extra! Bonus points for all the actual killers out there! I may as well be wearing a big fucking red shirt with the letters "CANNON FODDER" written on it in glitter!
Whose going to miss me when I'm gone? Joshua? Natalie? Maybe even my parents? Apart from them, NOBODY! Friggin' NOBODY! Whats going to stop people from killing the guy whose name they barely remember anyway?
Oh god... Oh fucking GOD!
Once again, panic began to grip him. He began to shake violently, sweat freely pouring from his brow. He felt as if he would throw up any second, emptying the contents of his stomach all over the floor like he almost did during the school prom. He knew he had to get out of there, get away from all these people before they decided to descend upon him like a pack of vultures. His eyes darted about the place, looking desperately for an opening for him to escape...
Gotta get out of here... Gotta get out of here... GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!
"Y... You're crazy, you know that?!? YOU'RE ALL FUCKING CRAZY!!!"
And on that note, he grabbed his bag and ran. Ran as fast as his short legs could carry him. He had no idea where he was heading, which direction he was heading, or even what he'd do once he got there. All he knew at that moment was that he had to get away. Get as FAR away from every other living soul on this entire island... He was going to die, that was inevitable. But at the very least he could put off death as long as he could...
Why me?!? Of all the motherfuckers in the world who deserved this, why the hell did this have to happen to ME?!?
((Marty J. Lovett continued in Conquistador))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. 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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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
At first, Jimmy Brennan couldn't comprehend what was happening. He bounced from foot to foot, jabbing at the air, ready for the first of the boys to come at him. He could hear a song pounding in his head, and he was ready above everything else. Keith wouldn't be taking him down, and Marty certainly wouldn't be.
"You're completely insane."
Jimmy's eyebrow twitched and he could feel his cheeks going Scarlett with embarrassment. He sputtered, momentarily stopping his jumping foot to foot to once more shoot the other boy the finger.
"No- No I'm not! I'm one of those realist people! Fuck your COCK you stupid- stupid- six foot something, fuckin' shiteater! Come over here and say it again! You won't be! I mean- you won't be ABLE to! BECAUSE I'LL TEAR YOUR FACE OFF AND FUCK IT. Come over here! I make Gods' mortal with my BLOOD AN' FISTS!" He screamed.
He could feel the veins in his forehead pulsate with blood, and sweat beginning to drip from the back of his neck. Jimmy pulled up his brown gloves, and balled his hand into a fist one more, prepping for the inevitable assault.
I'll show them! They think I'm crazy?! I'm the only not-crazy person here!
It's gonna be Keith! He's gonna go first, because he's a fucking retard, and I'll get'em right beneath the chin, ONE TWO bang bang! Motherfucker goes down, then I flip the motherfucker, or-or, can I flip him? He's tall, very b-bi- Fuck it, He doesn't DESERVE a JIMMYFLIP. Well, after a ONE TWO he's down, motherfucker is as good as dead, then onta' Marty, little bitchass with the crazy shirt, he always hated me, I just know it, he's gonna run away? What the, what the fuck is...?
To put it bluntly, Jimmy nearly shit himself when Marty suddenly and unexpectedly bolted from the area. His hands shot up to protect his face and he stumbled backwards letting out a yelp, falling on his hindquarters.
He blinked, scrambling up to his feet. He swung his head about, trying in vain to spot Marty. Finally he saw the boy, vanishing through the trees. His brain grinded to a halt trying to grasp what had just occurred.
Holy shit. I must have scared him off. I scared him off! I scared someone off?! About fuckin' time!
"...Guh... That's... That's right! You run! Run you pussy-ass-pansy-fuck-FUCKA! You better run from Jimmy! This is the only chance you'll ever get, you stupid- You- Yeah! Just keep running! ASSHOLE! I was gonna kill you anyway!"
Jimmy swung his gaze back to Keith and Carly, his momentary smile at Marty's departure replaced with a sneer.
One down, two to go... Or well, one to go. This chick is useless. I could beat her no sweat. I wonder if they'll all run? That would be fantastic... I can't flip this guy. Fuckshit. This guy, Keith, bigger than I remember... I- I could take him. I know it... And... Oh shit, guns. I guess Marty didn't have a gun. Does Keith have a gun? Oh shit, he's gonna have a gun! I got soda, how the shit am I supposed to fight him with soda and my fists if he's got a gun!?
Realizing the abrupt and awkward silence after Marty's departure, Jimmy began to speak again, bouncing from toe to toe. It wasn't the same though. The song had faded, his adrenaline was down. The prospect of running like Marty was suddenly looking very inviting, although he'd never say it that straight.
"Er... You shoulda' done the same thing! Because if you go after me, you're dead! But like, you're dead anyway! Because that's what happens! So, go! Run! Run off with your little pussy faggot friend Keith!"
He's not freakin' out. Why isn't he freakin' out?! I've been yelling at him, everyone should be freakin' out! Is it cuz' he's like.. fucking.... Six feet tall..? He's gotta have a gun. That's why he's not running from me like that pussy Marty. God dammit!
Well this isn't fair, this isn't how it's gonna go! I'm not gonna play nice then get shot in the face because I'm the good guy! Fuck that shit! No way, no, I know he has it, even if he thinks I dunno it, because I'm smarter than him! Which means... I gotta get some distance. I gotta, fuck, I gotta get away from him. He'll kill that little bitch, yeah, he can kill her. He won't get me though. He won't have me run in an' get my face blown off, because I- I know what's going down. If I run at him, which is what he wants BANG BANG, dead- no no, fuck you Keith, I'm not gonna get killed by you! I'm so badass, I can make people run at just the THOUGHT of fighting me! I'm not gonna die now! Fuck that! Fuck it to hell!
"Or... y'know what? Fuck you! I'm ditching you! I hope you get your face fucked off when I'm gone, so I don't hafta' meet a stupid shithead like you again!"
Jimmy swung about, and awkwardly grabbed his bag, throwing it across his back. Taking off in a half run into the woods in the opposite direction of Marty, Jimmy's mind began racing once again. The thought of what Keith said itched at his brain, and he paused in the foliage, turning back one last time to look at him.
"And I'm not crazy! I'm just better then you! Now fuck off and die!" He stuck his tongue out at the boy before turning and running off into the woods.
Good job Jimmy, you won this round! You outsmarted Keith and you scared off that pussy, you're getting your footing here! Just- just don't get your face blown apart an' you might have a shot!
Hey... I might have a shot!
((Jimmy Brennan continues in The Only Way Is Up))
"You're completely insane."
Jimmy's eyebrow twitched and he could feel his cheeks going Scarlett with embarrassment. He sputtered, momentarily stopping his jumping foot to foot to once more shoot the other boy the finger.
"No- No I'm not! I'm one of those realist people! Fuck your COCK you stupid- stupid- six foot something, fuckin' shiteater! Come over here and say it again! You won't be! I mean- you won't be ABLE to! BECAUSE I'LL TEAR YOUR FACE OFF AND FUCK IT. Come over here! I make Gods' mortal with my BLOOD AN' FISTS!" He screamed.
He could feel the veins in his forehead pulsate with blood, and sweat beginning to drip from the back of his neck. Jimmy pulled up his brown gloves, and balled his hand into a fist one more, prepping for the inevitable assault.
I'll show them! They think I'm crazy?! I'm the only not-crazy person here!
It's gonna be Keith! He's gonna go first, because he's a fucking retard, and I'll get'em right beneath the chin, ONE TWO bang bang! Motherfucker goes down, then I flip the motherfucker, or-or, can I flip him? He's tall, very b-bi- Fuck it, He doesn't DESERVE a JIMMYFLIP. Well, after a ONE TWO he's down, motherfucker is as good as dead, then onta' Marty, little bitchass with the crazy shirt, he always hated me, I just know it, he's gonna run away? What the, what the fuck is...?
To put it bluntly, Jimmy nearly shit himself when Marty suddenly and unexpectedly bolted from the area. His hands shot up to protect his face and he stumbled backwards letting out a yelp, falling on his hindquarters.
He blinked, scrambling up to his feet. He swung his head about, trying in vain to spot Marty. Finally he saw the boy, vanishing through the trees. His brain grinded to a halt trying to grasp what had just occurred.
Holy shit. I must have scared him off. I scared him off! I scared someone off?! About fuckin' time!
"...Guh... That's... That's right! You run! Run you pussy-ass-pansy-fuck-FUCKA! You better run from Jimmy! This is the only chance you'll ever get, you stupid- You- Yeah! Just keep running! ASSHOLE! I was gonna kill you anyway!"
Jimmy swung his gaze back to Keith and Carly, his momentary smile at Marty's departure replaced with a sneer.
One down, two to go... Or well, one to go. This chick is useless. I could beat her no sweat. I wonder if they'll all run? That would be fantastic... I can't flip this guy. Fuckshit. This guy, Keith, bigger than I remember... I- I could take him. I know it... And... Oh shit, guns. I guess Marty didn't have a gun. Does Keith have a gun? Oh shit, he's gonna have a gun! I got soda, how the shit am I supposed to fight him with soda and my fists if he's got a gun!?
Realizing the abrupt and awkward silence after Marty's departure, Jimmy began to speak again, bouncing from toe to toe. It wasn't the same though. The song had faded, his adrenaline was down. The prospect of running like Marty was suddenly looking very inviting, although he'd never say it that straight.
"Er... You shoulda' done the same thing! Because if you go after me, you're dead! But like, you're dead anyway! Because that's what happens! So, go! Run! Run off with your little pussy faggot friend Keith!"
He's not freakin' out. Why isn't he freakin' out?! I've been yelling at him, everyone should be freakin' out! Is it cuz' he's like.. fucking.... Six feet tall..? He's gotta have a gun. That's why he's not running from me like that pussy Marty. God dammit!
Well this isn't fair, this isn't how it's gonna go! I'm not gonna play nice then get shot in the face because I'm the good guy! Fuck that shit! No way, no, I know he has it, even if he thinks I dunno it, because I'm smarter than him! Which means... I gotta get some distance. I gotta, fuck, I gotta get away from him. He'll kill that little bitch, yeah, he can kill her. He won't get me though. He won't have me run in an' get my face blown off, because I- I know what's going down. If I run at him, which is what he wants BANG BANG, dead- no no, fuck you Keith, I'm not gonna get killed by you! I'm so badass, I can make people run at just the THOUGHT of fighting me! I'm not gonna die now! Fuck that! Fuck it to hell!
"Or... y'know what? Fuck you! I'm ditching you! I hope you get your face fucked off when I'm gone, so I don't hafta' meet a stupid shithead like you again!"
Jimmy swung about, and awkwardly grabbed his bag, throwing it across his back. Taking off in a half run into the woods in the opposite direction of Marty, Jimmy's mind began racing once again. The thought of what Keith said itched at his brain, and he paused in the foliage, turning back one last time to look at him.
"And I'm not crazy! I'm just better then you! Now fuck off and die!" He stuck his tongue out at the boy before turning and running off into the woods.
Good job Jimmy, you won this round! You outsmarted Keith and you scared off that pussy, you're getting your footing here! Just- just don't get your face blown apart an' you might have a shot!
Hey... I might have a shot!
((Jimmy Brennan continues in The Only Way Is Up))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
((Phillip Ward continued from Where is My Mind?))
Phil's heart pumped furiously as he continued you jog deeper in to the woods. He had lost sight of the two boys he was chasing a long time ago and had only continued moving out of a combination of stubbornness and lack of any other ideas. Finally out of breath he leant up against a tree and tried to catch his breath. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he mentally sorted through the events of the previous hour.
Maybe he had been a little harsh with the two boys demanding all their gear, but that was who he was and it had always worked in the past. No one really got hurt, well not permanantly, apart from that one time he had broken that guys arm during a hockey match but that was only because he talked shit about this mother. Phil slowly nodded. You mess with Phil and you are going to get hurt. Same thing had happened here. That girl had tried the *stupidest thing* possible and pushed her finger in the back of his head of all places. In all honestly within the moment Phil had forgotten about the claws and the fact that Charlotte had dodged most of his blows only made him more enraged at the time. A thin sound pierced the air, very softly at first then increasing in intensity.
"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
Phil frowned as a flash of red hair dashed past him. He was too out of breath to even speak up and he could only watch quizzically as he panted heavily, hands on his knees but one thought did cross his mind.
Was that.... Jimmy Brennan? Clutching a can of moxie?
Phil licked his lips momentarily. He could definitely go a soda after that run. Sliding the bag from his shoulder he opened it up and gulped down an entire bottle of water, flinging the empty container to one side after he had done. He could hear shouting in the distance and he slumped down on the tree he was previously leaning on. He really didn't have the energy to even walk over there after the events that had transpired. He was totally exhausted.
A while past as he sat listening to the distant voices yelling at each other. After some time Phil rezipped his bag and decided to head over to the commotion. Walking towards the voices he heard footsteps running fast and he turned to his left to see Jimmy once again run past, oblivious to his nemesis. Phil opened his mouth to call out to the boy then hesitated, he was definitely not in the mood for a fight, not even one as one sided as between Jimmy and himself. Instead he chose to move towards the group of people he could see in the copse nearby. There were a few still there and he wasn't about to do anything rash, especially with the actions last time someone had tried to be a hero.
Instead Phil merely stalked towards them in plain view, mostly unaware of the image that he made, that of a clawed bully, blood splattered across his face and shirt, who looked semi-wild eyed and drenched in sweat. As he neared he grunted "hrumff"
Phil's heart pumped furiously as he continued you jog deeper in to the woods. He had lost sight of the two boys he was chasing a long time ago and had only continued moving out of a combination of stubbornness and lack of any other ideas. Finally out of breath he leant up against a tree and tried to catch his breath. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he mentally sorted through the events of the previous hour.
Maybe he had been a little harsh with the two boys demanding all their gear, but that was who he was and it had always worked in the past. No one really got hurt, well not permanantly, apart from that one time he had broken that guys arm during a hockey match but that was only because he talked shit about this mother. Phil slowly nodded. You mess with Phil and you are going to get hurt. Same thing had happened here. That girl had tried the *stupidest thing* possible and pushed her finger in the back of his head of all places. In all honestly within the moment Phil had forgotten about the claws and the fact that Charlotte had dodged most of his blows only made him more enraged at the time. A thin sound pierced the air, very softly at first then increasing in intensity.
"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
Phil frowned as a flash of red hair dashed past him. He was too out of breath to even speak up and he could only watch quizzically as he panted heavily, hands on his knees but one thought did cross his mind.
Was that.... Jimmy Brennan? Clutching a can of moxie?
Phil licked his lips momentarily. He could definitely go a soda after that run. Sliding the bag from his shoulder he opened it up and gulped down an entire bottle of water, flinging the empty container to one side after he had done. He could hear shouting in the distance and he slumped down on the tree he was previously leaning on. He really didn't have the energy to even walk over there after the events that had transpired. He was totally exhausted.
A while past as he sat listening to the distant voices yelling at each other. After some time Phil rezipped his bag and decided to head over to the commotion. Walking towards the voices he heard footsteps running fast and he turned to his left to see Jimmy once again run past, oblivious to his nemesis. Phil opened his mouth to call out to the boy then hesitated, he was definitely not in the mood for a fight, not even one as one sided as between Jimmy and himself. Instead he chose to move towards the group of people he could see in the copse nearby. There were a few still there and he wasn't about to do anything rash, especially with the actions last time someone had tried to be a hero.
Instead Phil merely stalked towards them in plain view, mostly unaware of the image that he made, that of a clawed bully, blood splattered across his face and shirt, who looked semi-wild eyed and drenched in sweat. As he neared he grunted "hrumff"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fanatic. 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.