((Andy Silverman continued from The Unavoidable Sun))
Andy's whole big gesture about storming off into the jungle by himself hadn't really stuck, considering that Axel and Abe caught up with him not long into the day. He'd been surprised Abe tagged along at all, what with the mud makeover Andy gave him on his way out, but whatever. It was whatever. Abe and Axel were buds, kind of sort of. Andy had tried not to be too much of a dick about it once he'd let everything out in that one go.
The buzzing in his head never completely went away. It got quieter, calmer. Ratcheted up again during the night when he remembered he'd be hearing another set of names in just a few hours, but exhaustion had finally made him sleep.
It was still raining when the sky lightened enough to see without flashlights. Their aimless wandering had taken them in a big circle; they were back by the lake.
Andy looked out over it for a while, counting the impacts of the raindrops on the water's surface before he inevitably fell behind and had to start again. It was kind of nice. You know, for a situation that was basically a hot bag of shit.
He hadn't talked much to either Axel or Abe throughout the previous day. He didn't say anything now, when he rose and finally stripped off his mud-stained shirt. He was soaked through from the rain and didn't think that more water was really the cure here - had no soap, anyway - but he dipped it in the edge of the lake and tried to squeeze and scrub some of the excess mud off. Mostly what happened was that his shirt was now stained a slightly lighter shade of brown.
He almost made to slip it back on, stopped and reconsidered, and tossed it over his bags. They were going to find out how waterproof that shit was. Andy had taken care to shelter the ant terrarium and Minithulhu as well as he could. The food was packaged, and the first-aid kit was sealed, right?
His right hand itched under the bandage Axel had applied the first morning. Probably should change that soon.
Andy stared out over the lake, counted and lost count, and before he even really thought about what he was doing, he was standing again and stripping out of the rest of his clothes, down to his boxers.
"Going for a swim," he called back. He waded out into the water without waiting for an answer. When it got deep enough, he dove forward and plunged in.
When he broke through the surface again, there was still just the sound of the rain impacting the water. No voice over the speakers yet.
Andy took a deep breath and ducked under again, making his way away from the shore with strong, steady pulls through the water.
We Don't Need Another Song About California
Day 3 pre-announcement; private for a few post cycles
We Don't Need Another Song About California
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
((Man, the rain blew.))
Literally, figuratively, you named it. After his little trip to mud town, Abe had actually been glad to feel the first warm droplets of drizzle, 'cause it was like a shower if you squinted. The novelty had worn off pretty quickly though, since the rain just, hadn't stopped, and in fact actually got worse as the day wore on, and the three dipshits trudged aimlessly around the island.
The A-Team was taken, so they were the "Ayy" team. Abe would never say that out loud, because Andy and Axel would definitely tag-team K.O. him for that one. Maybe he should've gone for broke anyways, 'cause the atmosphere had been pretty damn weird for the remainder of the day - well, maybe it was just fitting, murderdeath island and all.
For what it had been worth, Axel had seemed some amount of happy to have Abe around; but they still hadn't been able to settle fully back into their old rhythm. It probably woulda taken them some time to get used to being around each other again even if they'd just been hanging out at home, which shot him with a lil' pang of regret that they hadn't gotten the whole process started sooner. It'd felt like he had all the time in the world to do pesky shit like 'have a conversation', even mere weeks away from graduation; and where the hell had that gotten him, huh?
Andy was surprisingly tolerable. They'd obviously never be bros, but at least there was a vague sense of the three of them being in it together. Abe probably shoulda been madder about the mud bath, but the other two were pretty damn coated in muck too, so it was only fair that he was uncomfortable, too. A stupid kind of fair, but stupid was how Abe lived his life, so that was alright. Holding grudges was a lot of work, anyways, and they all had bigger shit to shovel.
When night fell, they'd found some shelter so they could at least sleep without the rain bearing down on them. He'd had to be pretty careful whenever they'd had a food-slash-water break, trying to make sure the other two didn't get a glimpse of his bag and realize he had way more supplies than he should've, along with two incriminating slips of paper he'd kept like fucking serial killer trophies or something. It'd worked out alright, since it's not like the guys had any reason to be suspicious.
Man. If he stuck around, if the other dudes lived for long enough, they'd run outta rations before he did. What the hell would he do then? By that point they'd probably be too grateful to question where he'd magically gotten his extra shit, but that'd be giving up one of the advantages he'd so desperately ran for. Maybe that'd be the point he made a break for it. In the grand scheme of things, only one of the trio was gonna make it out alive, at best. No reason he had to see that particular bandaid being ripped off, yeah?
For the time being, though, it was real fuckin' nice to be able to sleep and know that someone was watching his back, so it's not like he was in a rush. There hadn't been anything to dry himself off with, so Abe had stripped off his dirty, waterlogged clothes and slept in his boxers, which had been slightly more comfortable. Unfortunately, the sweatshirt he'd tied around his waist had been too soaked to use as a blanket again, and he was real salty about it.
So, there they were. Moderately well-rested in the morning light, just fucking around while they waited to hear if any of their liked ones had died.
He'd only just gotten dressed again, but Andy seemed like he was on to something, so Abe followed him into the water, did his best to deal with the mud. And when the guy decided to strip down (in his inner monologue, Abe whistled appreciatively. If only Andy wasn't straight, and taken, and also an asshole.), well, Abe just had to follow suit. Hello clothes, goodbye clothes. They plopped in a pile next to his bag, which currently contained the gun 'cause it was probably best not to let that thing get any wetter than necessary.
Among other things, his parents had signed him up for swimming lessons as a kid. They definitely were a lot more useful than fukken soccer had been in his daily life.
"Axel, you coming, bro?" Abe called out, before he closed his eyes and let himself float on his back, feel the rain pelt the front of his body while the warm lake embraced the back, all serene and tranquil and at peace with the world and shit, just for a moment.
Boy he hoped there weren't any corpses in the lake!
Literally, figuratively, you named it. After his little trip to mud town, Abe had actually been glad to feel the first warm droplets of drizzle, 'cause it was like a shower if you squinted. The novelty had worn off pretty quickly though, since the rain just, hadn't stopped, and in fact actually got worse as the day wore on, and the three dipshits trudged aimlessly around the island.
The A-Team was taken, so they were the "Ayy" team. Abe would never say that out loud, because Andy and Axel would definitely tag-team K.O. him for that one. Maybe he should've gone for broke anyways, 'cause the atmosphere had been pretty damn weird for the remainder of the day - well, maybe it was just fitting, murderdeath island and all.
For what it had been worth, Axel had seemed some amount of happy to have Abe around; but they still hadn't been able to settle fully back into their old rhythm. It probably woulda taken them some time to get used to being around each other again even if they'd just been hanging out at home, which shot him with a lil' pang of regret that they hadn't gotten the whole process started sooner. It'd felt like he had all the time in the world to do pesky shit like 'have a conversation', even mere weeks away from graduation; and where the hell had that gotten him, huh?
Andy was surprisingly tolerable. They'd obviously never be bros, but at least there was a vague sense of the three of them being in it together. Abe probably shoulda been madder about the mud bath, but the other two were pretty damn coated in muck too, so it was only fair that he was uncomfortable, too. A stupid kind of fair, but stupid was how Abe lived his life, so that was alright. Holding grudges was a lot of work, anyways, and they all had bigger shit to shovel.
When night fell, they'd found some shelter so they could at least sleep without the rain bearing down on them. He'd had to be pretty careful whenever they'd had a food-slash-water break, trying to make sure the other two didn't get a glimpse of his bag and realize he had way more supplies than he should've, along with two incriminating slips of paper he'd kept like fucking serial killer trophies or something. It'd worked out alright, since it's not like the guys had any reason to be suspicious.
Man. If he stuck around, if the other dudes lived for long enough, they'd run outta rations before he did. What the hell would he do then? By that point they'd probably be too grateful to question where he'd magically gotten his extra shit, but that'd be giving up one of the advantages he'd so desperately ran for. Maybe that'd be the point he made a break for it. In the grand scheme of things, only one of the trio was gonna make it out alive, at best. No reason he had to see that particular bandaid being ripped off, yeah?
For the time being, though, it was real fuckin' nice to be able to sleep and know that someone was watching his back, so it's not like he was in a rush. There hadn't been anything to dry himself off with, so Abe had stripped off his dirty, waterlogged clothes and slept in his boxers, which had been slightly more comfortable. Unfortunately, the sweatshirt he'd tied around his waist had been too soaked to use as a blanket again, and he was real salty about it.
So, there they were. Moderately well-rested in the morning light, just fucking around while they waited to hear if any of their liked ones had died.
He'd only just gotten dressed again, but Andy seemed like he was on to something, so Abe followed him into the water, did his best to deal with the mud. And when the guy decided to strip down (in his inner monologue, Abe whistled appreciatively. If only Andy wasn't straight, and taken, and also an asshole.), well, Abe just had to follow suit. Hello clothes, goodbye clothes. They plopped in a pile next to his bag, which currently contained the gun 'cause it was probably best not to let that thing get any wetter than necessary.
Among other things, his parents had signed him up for swimming lessons as a kid. They definitely were a lot more useful than fukken soccer had been in his daily life.
"Axel, you coming, bro?" Abe called out, before he closed his eyes and let himself float on his back, feel the rain pelt the front of his body while the warm lake embraced the back, all serene and tranquil and at peace with the world and shit, just for a moment.
Boy he hoped there weren't any corpses in the lake!
>> Axel Fontaine continued from wherever the fuck we just were like honestly whatever
Time passed.
See, like? That. "Time passed." What the fuck was that. Like it wasn't hours and hours of trudging through the mud and half-drowning in a downpour that wouldn't ever stop, like he didn't keep his dumbass mouth shut because he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop screaming if he started talking too much. Like these weren't some of the last hours of his life, because that was it, yeah? Like he was watching a timer tick down except at the end of it instead of getting like pizza bagels out of the oven he was gonna be fucking dead? "Time passed." Wow, Axel, you're doing great, huh? Rest of your life going good? Fuck, it was useless. It was all useless. He was drowning standing up.
Time passed. It was whatever. Andy and Abe were there. Who cared.
It was little things that stuck to him. Abe tried to talk to him a fair bit. Pretty obvious he was trying to make up for a whole lot of months of nothing and like, those months of nothing were kinda on both of them so it wasn't like he was gonna bitch about it, but he felt, like. Bad. His chill levels were at unprecedented negatives and Abe trying to pull off his Ha Ha Nothing Has Ever Mattered Ever Am I Right Bros thing was like actively itching his brain even though he got the sense he was kinda doing it for his benefit. Him being normal was supposed to help, probably.
Andy was a rubber band already stretched between a thumb and forefinger and Axel was just trying not to be in front of him when he let go, and that was sort of normal, too.
Night fell, and they were somewhere, and he slept at some point. He was less muddy than the other two. Still kinda gross. Probably smelled like shit but no one noticed cause they probably did too. Probably after a few days they'd be too busy corpse rot to smell body odor anyway. Upsides, right? His head hurt. He needed a cigarette. He'd needed a cigarette for hours.
The sun was up.
He didn't remember the last time he'd ate but his stomach curled at the thought of food. His head moved separately from his body when he pulled himself to standing. He stumbled. Managed not to fling himself back in the mud. It was still fucking raining, huh? Thematically appropriate, or whatever. He felt increasingly like he was being made fun of.
Andy and Abe were in the water, and he had no real recollection of that having happened because time wasn't bothering to happen at the moment, and Abe called out to him, and he looked out, and despite everything wow hey was the sight of the two of them mostly naked and soaking wet bringing up thoughts he seriously didn't feel like having right now.
This fucking sucked.
"I'm gonna take—" he started mumbling before realizing his lips were sticking together and there was no way they could hear him and if he walked away without saying anything they might think he was leaving like forever-ever because that was a thing that could happen here and it might happen anyway, he could walk fifty feet away and be shot in the fucking head by whoever, probably Tyrell because it would be Tyrell, wouldn't it? He'd managed not to think too hard about the Tyrell thing until just now but like here we were again.
He needed to be somewhere else. It was whatever. He'd come back or he'd die.
"I'm gonna take a walk," he called out, louder, and he started walking.
>> Axel Fontaine continued somewhere else
Time passed.
See, like? That. "Time passed." What the fuck was that. Like it wasn't hours and hours of trudging through the mud and half-drowning in a downpour that wouldn't ever stop, like he didn't keep his dumbass mouth shut because he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop screaming if he started talking too much. Like these weren't some of the last hours of his life, because that was it, yeah? Like he was watching a timer tick down except at the end of it instead of getting like pizza bagels out of the oven he was gonna be fucking dead? "Time passed." Wow, Axel, you're doing great, huh? Rest of your life going good? Fuck, it was useless. It was all useless. He was drowning standing up.
Time passed. It was whatever. Andy and Abe were there. Who cared.
It was little things that stuck to him. Abe tried to talk to him a fair bit. Pretty obvious he was trying to make up for a whole lot of months of nothing and like, those months of nothing were kinda on both of them so it wasn't like he was gonna bitch about it, but he felt, like. Bad. His chill levels were at unprecedented negatives and Abe trying to pull off his Ha Ha Nothing Has Ever Mattered Ever Am I Right Bros thing was like actively itching his brain even though he got the sense he was kinda doing it for his benefit. Him being normal was supposed to help, probably.
Andy was a rubber band already stretched between a thumb and forefinger and Axel was just trying not to be in front of him when he let go, and that was sort of normal, too.
Night fell, and they were somewhere, and he slept at some point. He was less muddy than the other two. Still kinda gross. Probably smelled like shit but no one noticed cause they probably did too. Probably after a few days they'd be too busy corpse rot to smell body odor anyway. Upsides, right? His head hurt. He needed a cigarette. He'd needed a cigarette for hours.
The sun was up.
He didn't remember the last time he'd ate but his stomach curled at the thought of food. His head moved separately from his body when he pulled himself to standing. He stumbled. Managed not to fling himself back in the mud. It was still fucking raining, huh? Thematically appropriate, or whatever. He felt increasingly like he was being made fun of.
Andy and Abe were in the water, and he had no real recollection of that having happened because time wasn't bothering to happen at the moment, and Abe called out to him, and he looked out, and despite everything wow hey was the sight of the two of them mostly naked and soaking wet bringing up thoughts he seriously didn't feel like having right now.
This fucking sucked.
"I'm gonna take—" he started mumbling before realizing his lips were sticking together and there was no way they could hear him and if he walked away without saying anything they might think he was leaving like forever-ever because that was a thing that could happen here and it might happen anyway, he could walk fifty feet away and be shot in the fucking head by whoever, probably Tyrell because it would be Tyrell, wouldn't it? He'd managed not to think too hard about the Tyrell thing until just now but like here we were again.
He needed to be somewhere else. It was whatever. He'd come back or he'd die.
"I'm gonna take a walk," he called out, louder, and he started walking.
>> Axel Fontaine continued somewhere else
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
When he came up again there were voices, and his heart clenched even though he just as quickly realized it was just Axel and Abe. Abe was following him out, which wasn't really what Andy had intended on happening, but whatever. There was enough lake for the both of them.
Axel didn't follow. Andy looked back and saw him wandering along the shore. Just going off wherever the fuck.
Whatever. Everything was whatever.
Axel could have a minute, sure, that was cool. Not like Andy was responsible for him.
He took a deep breath and dove down. Counted the seconds. He could hold his breath for a while.
He didn't reach the bottom before he had to come back up.
Axel didn't follow. Andy looked back and saw him wandering along the shore. Just going off wherever the fuck.
Whatever. Everything was whatever.
Axel could have a minute, sure, that was cool. Not like Andy was responsible for him.
He took a deep breath and dove down. Counted the seconds. He could hold his breath for a while.
He didn't reach the bottom before he had to come back up.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Axel replied with something that wasn't 'hell yeah bro, cannonball time', which was pretty reasonable but also killing the 2x vibe combo that Abe and Andy were bringing to the table. Well, it wasn't really a vibe combo, 'cause who the hell knew what Andy was up to; dude was swimming with a fuckin' purpose so maybe he was working on some shit.
Abe was content to just sorta float, because he'd spent most of the previous day and night with his entire business, both, mentionable and unmentionable, soaked to the bone by a million lil' droplets just like viciously, individually assaulting him. It was much preferable to just let himself be enveloped by what was basically a million lil' droplets fused together Voltron style into a single big droplet. It felt better to be submerged than splattered, y'know? Water was nice and warm.
Of course, he hadn't exactly planned on letting himself be enveloped, but when Axel called out to him Abe was all like "Wait, dude-" but he'd instinctively tried to sit up from his back-floating position, which didn't work, so he'd sorta plummeted accidentally below the surface and got a bunch of gross water in his mouth, and he rose back up to the surface all sputtering and spitting and hoping he didn't have turbo diarrhea 2, the revenge of shit, and whoops. By the time he'd gotten all the water cleared outta his eyes Axel was already outta sight, and he'd be long gone by the time Abe'd be able to get to shore.
Haha, that could be the last time he'd ever see the dude. Hilariously weird to think about, right? Especially after he'd gotten such a lucky break by running into Axel in the first place, right?
Now Abe was alone with Andy, which wasn't exactly the nightmare scenario but also wasn't a sprightly jaunt through a field, either. What the hell were they gonna do, just avoid eye contact or make :/ faces at each other? Two bros, chilling in the lake, 20 feet apart because only one of them's gay and also neither of them really like each other.
What the hell else could he do but sigh and return to his leisurely back-floating ways? "It'll probably be fine," he said to no one in particular.
Abe was content to just sorta float, because he'd spent most of the previous day and night with his entire business, both, mentionable and unmentionable, soaked to the bone by a million lil' droplets just like viciously, individually assaulting him. It was much preferable to just let himself be enveloped by what was basically a million lil' droplets fused together Voltron style into a single big droplet. It felt better to be submerged than splattered, y'know? Water was nice and warm.
Of course, he hadn't exactly planned on letting himself be enveloped, but when Axel called out to him Abe was all like "Wait, dude-" but he'd instinctively tried to sit up from his back-floating position, which didn't work, so he'd sorta plummeted accidentally below the surface and got a bunch of gross water in his mouth, and he rose back up to the surface all sputtering and spitting and hoping he didn't have turbo diarrhea 2, the revenge of shit, and whoops. By the time he'd gotten all the water cleared outta his eyes Axel was already outta sight, and he'd be long gone by the time Abe'd be able to get to shore.
Haha, that could be the last time he'd ever see the dude. Hilariously weird to think about, right? Especially after he'd gotten such a lucky break by running into Axel in the first place, right?
Now Abe was alone with Andy, which wasn't exactly the nightmare scenario but also wasn't a sprightly jaunt through a field, either. What the hell were they gonna do, just avoid eye contact or make :/ faces at each other? Two bros, chilling in the lake, 20 feet apart because only one of them's gay and also neither of them really like each other.
What the hell else could he do but sigh and return to his leisurely back-floating ways? "It'll probably be fine," he said to no one in particular.
Andy didn't open his eyes while he was underwater. He thought about it; the water seemed like visibility would probably be fine. Then he thought about it some more, though, and if there was anything to actually see down there, Andy didn't want to see it. If he came face-to-face with literally anything besides Abe's stupid face, he'd never stop thinking about it.
He came up for air. Axel was long gone to wherever the fuck. Abe was floating on his back not far away. Andy entertained the idea of swimming over and dunking him.
That pleasant fantasy was interrupted by the crackle of speakers, and Andy's blood chilled. It froze completely with the very first name.
Mikki. Mikki. Who the fuck were Phillip and Terra? Mikki. Two shots, then one. Two minus one? Zero minus three. Negatives.
Mikki.
Andy didn't hear anything else that came after. There was just the water closing over his head, and the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears.
He came up for air. Axel was long gone to wherever the fuck. Abe was floating on his back not far away. Andy entertained the idea of swimming over and dunking him.
That pleasant fantasy was interrupted by the crackle of speakers, and Andy's blood chilled. It froze completely with the very first name.
Mikki. Mikki. Who the fuck were Phillip and Terra? Mikki. Two shots, then one. Two minus one? Zero minus three. Negatives.
Mikki.
Andy didn't hear anything else that came after. There was just the water closing over his head, and the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Abe knew something was gonna have to give eventually; he wouldn’t be able to just float in peace, at one with the lake and the rain forever. He still wished that he could’ve gotten a bit more time before the speakers sprang into action and ruined everything, though.
The first name wound up being the worst one. Abe hadn’t really been friends with Mikki, but they’d had a tendency to wind up at the same parties, and she’d always seemed cool. Definitely like ten billion times easier to picture her with a blunt in her hand than a gun, bang bang double homicide corpse party, haha?
Not to mention she was Forrest’s bestie and Andy’s girlfriend. No one was gonna be taking that well, huh?
And of course Axel had fucked off right when he’d be at his most useful, because whatever it was that Andy needed to hear, he sure as hell wouldn’t want it from Abe’s shitty mouth. Not that Abe would’ve been helpful in the words department even if he was like, trying to comfort Forrest, but at least he coulda hugged her. Hugs were simple, even for dumbasses.
Other highlights:
Nick! He’d killed the blue dude! After Abe had put himself out there to defend his honor and everything! Like, sure, maybe there had been another convoluted set of circumstances that meant he wasn’t really to blame for that one, either, but it’s not like he had any way to know, and like, two was more than one, which was more than zero, which was the number of people Abe had killed?
What else? Oh yeah, Lorenzo! Andy’d mentioned something kinda sketchy about him yesterday, during their fun lil’ argument with Morgan, and it’d kinda stuck in the back of Abe’s head, but like, way back, so far back he woulda needed to like, pick up and move the whole couch just to get to it, and that just wasn’t worth the effort to tackle the idea of another one of his chill party guys going psycho, but, well. There it was in plain text, he’d straight up killed a girl. Fucked up!
You know what else was fucked up? Like, less on a personal level, more on a visceral what-the-tapdancing-christ sorta bafflement? The artist formerly known as Nona Hart had fucking slashed some chick open with the lil’ Freddy glove Abe’d left him as payment, and also had some sorta personal epiphany, and that was really throwing him for a loop ‘cause, like, the claws on that thing sure as hell hadn’t been dangerous when he’d ditched it? Like, he’d prodded it and shit but it hadn’t even pricked his finger? What the fuck had, uh, Marco done to it? Like, what the fuck? “What the fuck,” he also said out loud?
In equally-as-important-news, Abe realized he couldn’t call the guy No-one anymore. Like, he was totally set on still being shitty and dismissive towards him in his inner monologue, for reasons, but like, deadnaming was, bad. Time to bid goodbye to his incredibly funny and fresh running gag.
Marco. Marco. He wanted to own Marco. Marcowned. There you go. Genius. Well, if he ever saw Marcowned again Abe’d have yet another reason to shit his pants, he guessed, but at least he’d still be a pants-shitter with a gun.
The last echoes of the announcements died out, and his desire to continue having a whimsical swimming adventure died with it. He righted himself, treading water, scanning around him to try and see how Andy was taking it, and, uh. Dude wasn’t on shore, dude wasn’t swimming to shore, dude wasn’t anywhere in sight. That was a little bit alarming, considering his fucking girlfriend had just, died.
“Andy? Dude, you aren’t like, fuckin’ drowning, right,” he said, like an idiot, a lil’ high-pitched tinge of panic creeping into his voice, ‘cause what the hell would Axel think if it turned out his bro had like, committed ritual suicide on the spot?
The first name wound up being the worst one. Abe hadn’t really been friends with Mikki, but they’d had a tendency to wind up at the same parties, and she’d always seemed cool. Definitely like ten billion times easier to picture her with a blunt in her hand than a gun, bang bang double homicide corpse party, haha?
Not to mention she was Forrest’s bestie and Andy’s girlfriend. No one was gonna be taking that well, huh?
And of course Axel had fucked off right when he’d be at his most useful, because whatever it was that Andy needed to hear, he sure as hell wouldn’t want it from Abe’s shitty mouth. Not that Abe would’ve been helpful in the words department even if he was like, trying to comfort Forrest, but at least he coulda hugged her. Hugs were simple, even for dumbasses.
Other highlights:
Nick! He’d killed the blue dude! After Abe had put himself out there to defend his honor and everything! Like, sure, maybe there had been another convoluted set of circumstances that meant he wasn’t really to blame for that one, either, but it’s not like he had any way to know, and like, two was more than one, which was more than zero, which was the number of people Abe had killed?
What else? Oh yeah, Lorenzo! Andy’d mentioned something kinda sketchy about him yesterday, during their fun lil’ argument with Morgan, and it’d kinda stuck in the back of Abe’s head, but like, way back, so far back he woulda needed to like, pick up and move the whole couch just to get to it, and that just wasn’t worth the effort to tackle the idea of another one of his chill party guys going psycho, but, well. There it was in plain text, he’d straight up killed a girl. Fucked up!
You know what else was fucked up? Like, less on a personal level, more on a visceral what-the-tapdancing-christ sorta bafflement? The artist formerly known as Nona Hart had fucking slashed some chick open with the lil’ Freddy glove Abe’d left him as payment, and also had some sorta personal epiphany, and that was really throwing him for a loop ‘cause, like, the claws on that thing sure as hell hadn’t been dangerous when he’d ditched it? Like, he’d prodded it and shit but it hadn’t even pricked his finger? What the fuck had, uh, Marco done to it? Like, what the fuck? “What the fuck,” he also said out loud?
In equally-as-important-news, Abe realized he couldn’t call the guy No-one anymore. Like, he was totally set on still being shitty and dismissive towards him in his inner monologue, for reasons, but like, deadnaming was, bad. Time to bid goodbye to his incredibly funny and fresh running gag.
Marco. Marco. He wanted to own Marco. Marcowned. There you go. Genius. Well, if he ever saw Marcowned again Abe’d have yet another reason to shit his pants, he guessed, but at least he’d still be a pants-shitter with a gun.
The last echoes of the announcements died out, and his desire to continue having a whimsical swimming adventure died with it. He righted himself, treading water, scanning around him to try and see how Andy was taking it, and, uh. Dude wasn’t on shore, dude wasn’t swimming to shore, dude wasn’t anywhere in sight. That was a little bit alarming, considering his fucking girlfriend had just, died.
“Andy? Dude, you aren’t like, fuckin’ drowning, right,” he said, like an idiot, a lil’ high-pitched tinge of panic creeping into his voice, ‘cause what the hell would Axel think if it turned out his bro had like, committed ritual suicide on the spot?
No noise above except Abe's words and the rain pattering on the lake's surface. Nothing reached Andy underneath.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I, he hated the word Mississippi because it almost had a rhythm, but the part at the end always threw it off. Yanked the rug right out from under you. Like when you were prepared for bad news, and what you got was even worse than what you'd imagined.
He lost count of how many Mississippis he was under before long, and he burst back through the surface again with a gasp. Was he having a panic attack yet? He didn't think so, really. He knew what those felt like, and it'd be a bad fucking shake to have one out in the middle of the water, but he was still breathing. Maybe not enough, maybe he shouldn't have kept ducking under the water, but if he didn't keep making himself hold his breath in some sort of pattern, he felt like it would slip out of his control and then he'd be having a panic attack for real, out in the middle of a lake in his underwear with nobody around but fucking Abe.
Andy sucked in a deep breath and ducked under again.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I, he hated the word Mississippi because it almost had a rhythm, but the part at the end always threw it off. Yanked the rug right out from under you. Like when you were prepared for bad news, and what you got was even worse than what you'd imagined.
He lost count of how many Mississippis he was under before long, and he burst back through the surface again with a gasp. Was he having a panic attack yet? He didn't think so, really. He knew what those felt like, and it'd be a bad fucking shake to have one out in the middle of the water, but he was still breathing. Maybe not enough, maybe he shouldn't have kept ducking under the water, but if he didn't keep making himself hold his breath in some sort of pattern, he felt like it would slip out of his control and then he'd be having a panic attack for real, out in the middle of a lake in his underwear with nobody around but fucking Abe.
Andy sucked in a deep breath and ducked under again.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
God fucking dammit, Andy.
Abe never thought he'd be relieved to see his handsome idiot face, but he let loose a lil' sigh of relief when he saw him break back up through the surface like a majestic fuckin' naked dolphin, but like, with more clothes than what a dolphin wore, which was zero.
But yeah, he was glad the dude hadn't fukken drowned, so sue him, but then, like, he dove back under, very clearly on purpose, and that was so annoying Abe kinda wished he had been in some sorta trouble?
He sighed again, and a thought slunk unbidden into his brainspace. Andy and Axel's bags were unguarded, and in the state Andy was in - y'know, justifiably freaking the hell out after his fucking murderfriendgirl bit it, haha - he probably wouldn't notice any crook shit Abe pulled until it was too late. He'd be set for life, and woah.
Woah, woah, woah, he swatted that thought like it was a fukken fat mosquito, because a guy had to have lines. Vaguely defined lines that'd one-hundo percent be washed out with time, but like, lines all the same.
Instead, Abe swam closer to the spot where Andy had just surfaced. If the guy wanted to have a breakdown, like, sure, he could be Abe's guest, he'd break out the singing fucking candles and everything, but he'd already set the table back on the shore, 'cause he wasn't a fucking underwater monk, so it was time to get the hell back onto dry land.
"Don't - don't make me fucking dive down after you, dude," he called out, as if the dude would actually hear him.
Abe never thought he'd be relieved to see his handsome idiot face, but he let loose a lil' sigh of relief when he saw him break back up through the surface like a majestic fuckin' naked dolphin, but like, with more clothes than what a dolphin wore, which was zero.
But yeah, he was glad the dude hadn't fukken drowned, so sue him, but then, like, he dove back under, very clearly on purpose, and that was so annoying Abe kinda wished he had been in some sorta trouble?
He sighed again, and a thought slunk unbidden into his brainspace. Andy and Axel's bags were unguarded, and in the state Andy was in - y'know, justifiably freaking the hell out after his fucking murderfriendgirl bit it, haha - he probably wouldn't notice any crook shit Abe pulled until it was too late. He'd be set for life, and woah.
Woah, woah, woah, he swatted that thought like it was a fukken fat mosquito, because a guy had to have lines. Vaguely defined lines that'd one-hundo percent be washed out with time, but like, lines all the same.
Instead, Abe swam closer to the spot where Andy had just surfaced. If the guy wanted to have a breakdown, like, sure, he could be Abe's guest, he'd break out the singing fucking candles and everything, but he'd already set the table back on the shore, 'cause he wasn't a fucking underwater monk, so it was time to get the hell back onto dry land.
"Don't - don't make me fucking dive down after you, dude," he called out, as if the dude would actually hear him.
Okay. Okay. Holding his breath helped, maybe? Can't hyperventilate if you're not breathing at all. Andy's heart was still pounding so hard that he could feel the pulse in every corner of his body, but he thought he maybe wasn't having an actual panic attack?
'Course, then he came back up for another gasp of air, and Abe was like, right there and nearly gave Andy a heart attack anyway.
"Jesus fuck!" He sputtered, slapping at the water to put some distance between their faces. "What the fuck," he gasped. He didn't specify whether that part was directed at Abe or anything else. It was a pretty good general statement.
He didn't go back down again. His fucking luck, Abe would end up right on top of him, and like, Mikki- Andy didn't want to think about her at the same time that he was having to think about not swimming directly up into another guy's taint, okay.
He didn't want to think about her.
He wondered if she had thought about him at all.
Fuck, he was crying.
'Course, then he came back up for another gasp of air, and Abe was like, right there and nearly gave Andy a heart attack anyway.
"Jesus fuck!" He sputtered, slapping at the water to put some distance between their faces. "What the fuck," he gasped. He didn't specify whether that part was directed at Abe or anything else. It was a pretty good general statement.
He didn't go back down again. His fucking luck, Abe would end up right on top of him, and like, Mikki- Andy didn't want to think about her at the same time that he was having to think about not swimming directly up into another guy's taint, okay.
He didn't want to think about her.
He wondered if she had thought about him at all.
Fuck, he was crying.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Oh whoops Abe hadn't thought he'd been that close to Andy - the last thing he needed was to be like headbutted in the balls or something, but. Okay. This was progress, even if progress entailed getting his fukken face all splashed with water. Andy was back up, breathing that good good air that humans, y'know, needed to not die, and it didn't look like he was going back down again. That was good.
But also, he was crying now, and that was real fukken awkward, because surprise of surprises, Abe was in no way equipped to properly deal with that?
He woulda reached out and tried to do the whole reassuring shoulder touch thing, but they were both swimming so the logistics of that would be kinda tough, and also Andy would probably just slug him or something for daring to try and do a bad job at comforting him, so instead he just said "C'mon, let's just get back to shore, alright man?" with all the like, warmth and somberness he could muster, which wasn't much, but it was still way above his Baseline Emotion level so that counted for something?
Abe didn't wait for a response before he started swimming back, but he kinda took his time, just to make sure Andy was actually following him.
But also, he was crying now, and that was real fukken awkward, because surprise of surprises, Abe was in no way equipped to properly deal with that?
He woulda reached out and tried to do the whole reassuring shoulder touch thing, but they were both swimming so the logistics of that would be kinda tough, and also Andy would probably just slug him or something for daring to try and do a bad job at comforting him, so instead he just said "C'mon, let's just get back to shore, alright man?" with all the like, warmth and somberness he could muster, which wasn't much, but it was still way above his Baseline Emotion level so that counted for something?
Abe didn't wait for a response before he started swimming back, but he kinda took his time, just to make sure Andy was actually following him.
Andy almost stayed put just out of spite, and also because trying to swim while also trying not to bawl like a fucking baby sounded like shit, but floating out in the middle of the lake all alone while still trying not to bawl like a fucking baby also sounded like shit. He followed without saying anything, and he overtook Abe by the time they reached the shore.
He made a halfhearted grab for his pants, but they were still soaked, and he was soaked, and what the hell difference did it make. Andy just sat instead, knees drawn up to his chest, loosely holding his jeans with one hand and trying not to make eye contact with Abe while he sniffled and looked out over the lake like he was some stupid character from the fucking Notebook or whatever. At least the rain made it a little harder to tell that he was crying, as long as he didn't start sobbing.
Of course, as if on cue, he felt a good, hearty sob trying to work its way up from his chest, but he bit down hard on his lower lip and refused to let it out. Shit. He'd never really cried hard since he was a little kid. Not much of a crier in any circumstances. More of a yeller.
He'd never lost anyone. Not like this. Not somebody his age. Not before yesterday.
Fuck. He was a fucking useless sack of shit excuse for a boyfriend. He hadn't even tried that hard to find her, or anyone. Just stupidly assumed he'd have enough time.
Andy screwed his eyes shut and pressed his fist against his mouth hard, like he could force everything trying to come out back in if he just pushed at it.
He made a halfhearted grab for his pants, but they were still soaked, and he was soaked, and what the hell difference did it make. Andy just sat instead, knees drawn up to his chest, loosely holding his jeans with one hand and trying not to make eye contact with Abe while he sniffled and looked out over the lake like he was some stupid character from the fucking Notebook or whatever. At least the rain made it a little harder to tell that he was crying, as long as he didn't start sobbing.
Of course, as if on cue, he felt a good, hearty sob trying to work its way up from his chest, but he bit down hard on his lower lip and refused to let it out. Shit. He'd never really cried hard since he was a little kid. Not much of a crier in any circumstances. More of a yeller.
He'd never lost anyone. Not like this. Not somebody his age. Not before yesterday.
Fuck. He was a fucking useless sack of shit excuse for a boyfriend. He hadn't even tried that hard to find her, or anyone. Just stupidly assumed he'd have enough time.
Andy screwed his eyes shut and pressed his fist against his mouth hard, like he could force everything trying to come out back in if he just pushed at it.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
That was one crisis averted. Well, not really, it just changed from a water crisis to a land crisis, but like, nothing good ever happened out there in the open water, so at least no one was gonna end up having to sing a sea shanty about them. Well, a lake shanty. Andy pretty quickly overtook Abe, which was good, because a guy definitely couldn't swim fast and have an emotional breakdown at the same time, right? Those were mutually exclusive, right, haha?
Just two dudes, sitting five feet apart on the shore, soaking wet, one of them having a complete emotional breakdown. Abe was starting to regret ever having gotten in the lake at all, 'cause like, it'd been nice for the five moments before everything went to shit, but now he didn't have a towel or anything, so he probably wasn't gonna dry off until it stopped raining; not to mention his clothes. God. His clothes. The thought of getting back into his wet pants while he was, himself, wet felt like, viscerally unpleasant. Goddammit.
And yeah, that was all totally important to be dwelling on when Andy was next to him sobbing his fuckin' heart out. Even with all their personal baggage and shit, Abe still felt bad for the guy, 'cause all he had to do was imagine hearing Forrest's name on the announcement, and yeah; he'd probably be having a pretty bad time too!
He'd have to hear it eventually. He was going to outlive Forrest. He needed to accept that, eventually, but he also needed to stop thinking about it right now immediately.
"Sorry."
Abe wasn't ambitious enough to go for the backpat, or a hug, or like, saying anything more meaningful than the barest fuckin' condolence in the world.
Just two dudes, sitting five feet apart on the shore, soaking wet, one of them having a complete emotional breakdown. Abe was starting to regret ever having gotten in the lake at all, 'cause like, it'd been nice for the five moments before everything went to shit, but now he didn't have a towel or anything, so he probably wasn't gonna dry off until it stopped raining; not to mention his clothes. God. His clothes. The thought of getting back into his wet pants while he was, himself, wet felt like, viscerally unpleasant. Goddammit.
And yeah, that was all totally important to be dwelling on when Andy was next to him sobbing his fuckin' heart out. Even with all their personal baggage and shit, Abe still felt bad for the guy, 'cause all he had to do was imagine hearing Forrest's name on the announcement, and yeah; he'd probably be having a pretty bad time too!
He'd have to hear it eventually. He was going to outlive Forrest. He needed to accept that, eventually, but he also needed to stop thinking about it right now immediately.
"Sorry."
Abe wasn't ambitious enough to go for the backpat, or a hug, or like, saying anything more meaningful than the barest fuckin' condolence in the world.
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Emprexx Plush
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((Hel Fury Continued From @shdwmstr recordings and transcripts june 10th))
Every path Hel could remember traveling since they woke up had been at a meandering pace. Like, any urgency they'd felt was pure emotion. It didn't translate into action. They kept freezing up, shutting down, backing out, all that bullshit. Going nowhere at a snail's pace with occasional stops to check in and yep, turns out everything's still real fucked up! Honest to gods it was running together. A couple snapshots of faces, actions stood out, but other than that the last couple days were a sea of half-remembered blurs darting over a mishmash backdrop they couldn't separate out. Unless they focused, really focused, the only thing that came to the front of their mind were a pale face growing cloudier. It rose, no sank, sank away even though it was going up up up into the sky over a grove empty save for sobs ramping louder and louder the further the face drifted.
They'd slept their last night, probably. Maybe. 99% sure they'd recorded the messages there at least. It could be a nightmare, not that they needed to be asleep for their brain to project shit like that. If their grip on the present got loose enough it just kinda...happened.
Speaking of.
Hel had no idea where the fuck they were, other than they'd been getting soaked wandering for awhile now. They were crying, maybe? The rain made it hard to tell. The overwhelming desire to detach from their body wasn't like, a huge boost either? It made sense when they made themself think about it though, like, it was kinda crazy they were still walking after that first name. Shit was complicated but they were sure he was gonna be crushed, and for what? Gods, he was one of the best fucking people they knew. Making him suffer by picking off everybody closest to him one by one like this, who was next? Forrest? Axel?
They didn't consider themself. Too much crossing the streams on their own euphoria and Andy's devastation. Didn't want to think about it. Didn't have to, and that was so fucked up but it was how things were. They couldn't even record him a message because he was gonna fucking die here too. They weren't gonna talk to him again or hug him or even see him before one of them caught a fatal case of The Dead, they weren't just going to bump into each other it's not like he was glistening bare assed across the lake after Forrest's boyfriend like he was going for Silver that was probably some totally unrelated half naked guy with boxers that looked just like Andy's which like that's probably cool because man Andy would be so weirded out that they could identify him by underwear but it was also kinda his faults for how bad he was at pants when he was drunk.
Hey back up a sec?
That's definitely Andy over there. Just so you know.
...fuck.
Hel dropped into a sprint without another thought, which hey you can probably guess this since you're in the future too but that was a really bad idea! Their side hurt a lot all of the sudden! There was one other thing from the last couple of days they were supposed to remember and that's that they'd been fucking shot! Instead of calling out Andy's name they let out a scream and stopped way too fast to keep from tumbling over!
Whoops!
Every path Hel could remember traveling since they woke up had been at a meandering pace. Like, any urgency they'd felt was pure emotion. It didn't translate into action. They kept freezing up, shutting down, backing out, all that bullshit. Going nowhere at a snail's pace with occasional stops to check in and yep, turns out everything's still real fucked up! Honest to gods it was running together. A couple snapshots of faces, actions stood out, but other than that the last couple days were a sea of half-remembered blurs darting over a mishmash backdrop they couldn't separate out. Unless they focused, really focused, the only thing that came to the front of their mind were a pale face growing cloudier. It rose, no sank, sank away even though it was going up up up into the sky over a grove empty save for sobs ramping louder and louder the further the face drifted.
They'd slept their last night, probably. Maybe. 99% sure they'd recorded the messages there at least. It could be a nightmare, not that they needed to be asleep for their brain to project shit like that. If their grip on the present got loose enough it just kinda...happened.
Speaking of.
Hel had no idea where the fuck they were, other than they'd been getting soaked wandering for awhile now. They were crying, maybe? The rain made it hard to tell. The overwhelming desire to detach from their body wasn't like, a huge boost either? It made sense when they made themself think about it though, like, it was kinda crazy they were still walking after that first name. Shit was complicated but they were sure he was gonna be crushed, and for what? Gods, he was one of the best fucking people they knew. Making him suffer by picking off everybody closest to him one by one like this, who was next? Forrest? Axel?
They didn't consider themself. Too much crossing the streams on their own euphoria and Andy's devastation. Didn't want to think about it. Didn't have to, and that was so fucked up but it was how things were. They couldn't even record him a message because he was gonna fucking die here too. They weren't gonna talk to him again or hug him or even see him before one of them caught a fatal case of The Dead, they weren't just going to bump into each other it's not like he was glistening bare assed across the lake after Forrest's boyfriend like he was going for Silver that was probably some totally unrelated half naked guy with boxers that looked just like Andy's which like that's probably cool because man Andy would be so weirded out that they could identify him by underwear but it was also kinda his faults for how bad he was at pants when he was drunk.
Hey back up a sec?
That's definitely Andy over there. Just so you know.
...fuck.
Hel dropped into a sprint without another thought, which hey you can probably guess this since you're in the future too but that was a really bad idea! Their side hurt a lot all of the sudden! There was one other thing from the last couple of days they were supposed to remember and that's that they'd been fucking shot! Instead of calling out Andy's name they let out a scream and stopped way too fast to keep from tumbling over!
Whoops!
Okay, so. That whole existential crisis thing Andy was doing, that was still going on. It felt like his chest had been put through a shredder, it hurt every time he breathed in with the effort it took to keep from letting everything else out, and he probably could have just sat here with the rain rolling off him until the crisis overrode the little bit of self-control he was managing to hang on to.
And then, like, the universe kind of just dropped salvation out of the sky.
Not salvation, okay, because that sounded like they were really saved and bad shit could just stop happening, even though the bad shit had already happened and things would never be okay again, and not actually out of the sky. But all of a sudden, while Andy sat consumed by his despair, there was a shriek and the sound of something falling, and it was way too fucking close, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning to see what the fuck was up now and almost flinging himself back into the lake by doing so.
There was a little moment that just kind of blinked out of existence thanks to everything being so fucking overwhelming, but when he next became aware, Andy had apparently teleported to Hel's side.
"Hel, Hel, fuck, oh my god-" He practically threw himself over them, uncaring that he was still definitely in his boxers and soaked to the bone and that was more than enough to make things weird.
"Oh fuck," he croaked. No other words came to mind to describe the relief that rammed its way through the grief for just a moment.
Then Andy started crying in earnest, not even trying to stop it.
And then, like, the universe kind of just dropped salvation out of the sky.
Not salvation, okay, because that sounded like they were really saved and bad shit could just stop happening, even though the bad shit had already happened and things would never be okay again, and not actually out of the sky. But all of a sudden, while Andy sat consumed by his despair, there was a shriek and the sound of something falling, and it was way too fucking close, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning to see what the fuck was up now and almost flinging himself back into the lake by doing so.
There was a little moment that just kind of blinked out of existence thanks to everything being so fucking overwhelming, but when he next became aware, Andy had apparently teleported to Hel's side.
"Hel, Hel, fuck, oh my god-" He practically threw himself over them, uncaring that he was still definitely in his boxers and soaked to the bone and that was more than enough to make things weird.
"Oh fuck," he croaked. No other words came to mind to describe the relief that rammed its way through the grief for just a moment.
Then Andy started crying in earnest, not even trying to stop it.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."