If Andy just kind of let himself go with the flow, most everything around him could recede into a fog. He'd spent his burst of emotion and energy for now. He was glad to have Hel. He was glad to have Axel. Abe was there too.
He could focus on that, count the raindrops spattering against the leaves and grass until they got too fast and too numerous for him to keep up with, and then start over on that. He moved where the group moved. He sat with his back against a tree and Minithulhu cradled in his lap like before; the terrarium was tucked into his bag again, staying as dry as possible. Didn't want waterlogged fire ants.
He didn't remember what they all talked about, really. Meaningless stuff, probably, or stuff that meant too much. They played a very languid game of hot potato with Hel's gun, moving it around the circle when it was someone else's turn to stay up and watch for danger. No danger approached during the night, which was good, because Andy was about two steps above a scarecrow for all the good he would have done in driving it off.
Or maybe that was just bullshitting himself.
He spent his whole time on watch with the safety flicked off.
Andy wasn't really sure how much sleep he'd gotten, but he did feel marginally better come morning. He woke Hel up long enough to pass the gun back to them, and he might have gone back to sleep himself, but they got all snuggled back up with Axel, and it occurred to Andy that the two of them hadn't really gotten a moment alone yet.
He'd never been against the two of them being together, really. He hadn't done a great job of making that clear, but it wasn't like he hated the idea. It was just weird, to have two people that he pretty much thought of as siblings and that he'd always figured saw each other the same way suddenly be like... a thing. The couple kind of thing, to be specific. He'd always been kind of weirded out by the idea of Hel being sexual in any way at all, in the same way that he didn't want to think about his parents or his brothers getting it on with anyone, so knowing that they were definitely macking on Axel and vice-versa never sat quite right.
Andy was glad they were happy together, he just never managed to say so. Honestly, he was okay leaving it unsaid for a while longer, because that wasn't a conversation anyone needed to have first thing in the morning. Also they had gone from sleeping cuddling to Axel kind of flipping out as he woke up, and that brought him back to square one. Square one being that he probably should be a bro and make himself scarce for a minute so Hel could bring Axel back to earth and they could... talk and be mushy or maybe make out, he didn't really know what they would do and he didn't want to.
He kept thinking in circles long enough to tune out most of the announcement, and then he stood.
"I'm going for a walk," he announced, as he was already getting up to head off on said walk. He could probably do like, a round or two of the lake. Or maybe just get to the other side and dick around there for a while until he could be reasonably sure it was safe to come back. He shot Abe a meaningful look, kind of sort of implying that Abe should not necessarily tag along, but that he should also be somewhere that was not here.
He grabbed his stuff, just to have something to do with his hands, and he started walking.
We Don't Need Another Song About California
Day 3 pre-announcement; private for a few post cycles
"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."
He wasn’t pathetic. Today he was going to prove it.
((Lucas Brady continued from Murder Melancholy))
Today’s to-do list:
- End KILL someone.
He’d kept telling himself that as he made his way from the house he’d spent the night in towards the lake. He was hoping it might have some running water. He needed to resupply: all that hiking had brought him down to his last bottle. Maybe he would be better off not moving around so much.
More than that though, he wanted to be around water again. It was relaxing. It made him think of when he’d gone on his fishing trips, those little escapes where the people he hated didn’t exist for a little while. It gave him peace of mind.
He needed that so that he could stop having to supress all the doubts in his head.
Five kills already. Five! That was more than a kill a day! And Quinn was just one of many. He’d committed to killing everyone two days ago, so why was he taking so fucking long?
‘Because they’re legitimate threats. Because you’re just Facebook Lucas.’
Those were the sort of thoughts he didn’t want to keep feeling.
As the lake came into his line of sight, and a wave of relief started to wash over him, he heard footsteps against the ground's woodland carpet that were not his own. His eyes darted in their direction, through the treeline. He saw the figure, but not for long enough to tell what it was. He traipsed forwards carefully, minding his steps, peering out from behind a tree to see who was going to ruin his day today.
Not if he ruined theirs first.
((Lucas Brady continued from Murder Melancholy))
Today’s to-do list:
- End KILL someone.
He’d kept telling himself that as he made his way from the house he’d spent the night in towards the lake. He was hoping it might have some running water. He needed to resupply: all that hiking had brought him down to his last bottle. Maybe he would be better off not moving around so much.
More than that though, he wanted to be around water again. It was relaxing. It made him think of when he’d gone on his fishing trips, those little escapes where the people he hated didn’t exist for a little while. It gave him peace of mind.
He needed that so that he could stop having to supress all the doubts in his head.
Five kills already. Five! That was more than a kill a day! And Quinn was just one of many. He’d committed to killing everyone two days ago, so why was he taking so fucking long?
‘Because they’re legitimate threats. Because you’re just Facebook Lucas.’
Those were the sort of thoughts he didn’t want to keep feeling.
As the lake came into his line of sight, and a wave of relief started to wash over him, he heard footsteps against the ground's woodland carpet that were not his own. His eyes darted in their direction, through the treeline. He saw the figure, but not for long enough to tell what it was. He traipsed forwards carefully, minding his steps, peering out from behind a tree to see who was going to ruin his day today.
Not if he ruined theirs first.
Well, there they were. All together. All alive. No immediate threats, just the ambient Kill Bill sirens that came with the game, buzzing constantly in the back of Abe’s brain, the ones that’d never shut the fuck up until he won or died. But, y’know, except for those, and with the addition of one particular elusive nerd, this’d be the closest thing to paradise he’d ever find in hell.
Even that was still kinda lame, because everyone was too stressed and sad and, like, traumatized to have a rowdy conversation time. The only other thing they had for entertainment was Andy’s ants, but the jerk was keeping them locked away from sight and also the rain, because drowned ants were even less fun to watch, which was fair.
Whatever. However weird and strained everything was, Abe had to enjoy it while he could, because he was the only one of them making it out alive. Had to drink up every moment, carry it with him for the rest of his life or some lame shit like that. The nice thing about their modern era of social media was that he’d never have to worry about forgetting their faces or voices, ‘cause they’d live on in his Snapchat memories forever, haha.
...Shit. He was never gonna hear Axel be a party guitar douche again in-person, huh. Abe’d never actually told him how much he liked his singing voice.
Oh well.
Abe woke up next to his gun, which was a lot less nice than waking up next to a soft datefriend (Axel you lucky bastard), but it was nicer than waking up to the announcements, which played a leisurely few minutes later.
He was lucky. Axel wasn’t. When would it be Abe’s turn to break down sobbing? Hopefully never, haha.
Andy took off, and he probably had the right idea. Abe didn’t think Axel’d wanna be seen like that, especially when Hel was around to take care of him. He gave his bro a quick squeeze on the shoulder before trailing behind Andy, gun in hand, as they walked the coastline of the lake.
They didn’t need to be walking side by side, right? Like, they’d gotten more than enough alone time the previous day. Keeping him in sight was more than enough, because if he had to go back to camp with a sheepish ‘sorry guys I lost track of your best friend’ it’d probably be best not to go at all. Fuck, he should’ve taken his bag with him. Just to be safe.
Even that was still kinda lame, because everyone was too stressed and sad and, like, traumatized to have a rowdy conversation time. The only other thing they had for entertainment was Andy’s ants, but the jerk was keeping them locked away from sight and also the rain, because drowned ants were even less fun to watch, which was fair.
Whatever. However weird and strained everything was, Abe had to enjoy it while he could, because he was the only one of them making it out alive. Had to drink up every moment, carry it with him for the rest of his life or some lame shit like that. The nice thing about their modern era of social media was that he’d never have to worry about forgetting their faces or voices, ‘cause they’d live on in his Snapchat memories forever, haha.
...Shit. He was never gonna hear Axel be a party guitar douche again in-person, huh. Abe’d never actually told him how much he liked his singing voice.
Oh well.
Abe woke up next to his gun, which was a lot less nice than waking up next to a soft datefriend (Axel you lucky bastard), but it was nicer than waking up to the announcements, which played a leisurely few minutes later.
He was lucky. Axel wasn’t. When would it be Abe’s turn to break down sobbing? Hopefully never, haha.
Andy took off, and he probably had the right idea. Abe didn’t think Axel’d wanna be seen like that, especially when Hel was around to take care of him. He gave his bro a quick squeeze on the shoulder before trailing behind Andy, gun in hand, as they walked the coastline of the lake.
They didn’t need to be walking side by side, right? Like, they’d gotten more than enough alone time the previous day. Keeping him in sight was more than enough, because if he had to go back to camp with a sheepish ‘sorry guys I lost track of your best friend’ it’d probably be best not to go at all. Fuck, he should’ve taken his bag with him. Just to be safe.
The rain seemed to be lightening up a bit. That was good, because Andy was real over the whole "being constantly soaked as soon as he stepped out from the trees" thing. He hadn't packed an extra change of clothes for the bus, so he was stuck with his dirty shirt clinging to him and his damp, chafing jeans.
Abe had followed him, which was maybe good and maybe not? Good because he'd caught Andy's unspoken insinuation that they ought to give Hel and Axel some alone time, bad because now Abe was kind of just walking behind Andy with a gun. Not that he really thought Abe was going to shoot him in the back for no reason, but the thought had occurred to him.
Fortunately something moved in the distance, catching Andy's eye and drawing his thoughts away from which of the people wandering around was most likely to try to gank him out of nowhere. Something flitting around in the treeline.
"Somebody there?" He called from a distance, pausing in his aimless stroll.
With his luck, it'd probably be another fucking bird getting ready to attack his face if he got close enough.
Abe had followed him, which was maybe good and maybe not? Good because he'd caught Andy's unspoken insinuation that they ought to give Hel and Axel some alone time, bad because now Abe was kind of just walking behind Andy with a gun. Not that he really thought Abe was going to shoot him in the back for no reason, but the thought had occurred to him.
Fortunately something moved in the distance, catching Andy's eye and drawing his thoughts away from which of the people wandering around was most likely to try to gank him out of nowhere. Something flitting around in the treeline.
"Somebody there?" He called from a distance, pausing in his aimless stroll.
With his luck, it'd probably be another fucking bird getting ready to attack his face if he got close enough.
"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."
He ducked back behind the tree, pressing his back into the bark as he looked in Andy’s direction out of the corner of his eye. He had seen him, long enough to recognise him as one of the people he really wanted dead. He could still see him standing over him two days ago, laughing at him down in the mud.
Not that Lucas had actually seen much in that moment, being occupied with being kicked in the ribs and not choking on his own asthma.
His hand gripped the rock in his hand. It was pointier than the last one, like a very short, fat stalagmite. Or just a round rock with a slight point. Either way, It would work much better than the stupid goddamn urumi that was still in his bag.
He slid his bag off his shoulders, moving carefully so as not to make a sound. He didn’t need that weighing him down. He knew he couldn’t overpower Andy, the guy had at least a foot on him, and he was still aching from his bath with Marco the day before. But he didn’t need to make the job even more exhausting than it was no doubt going to be by trying to lug his stuff around at the same time.
It would go better this time. He wasn’t going to fuck up twice.
He crept out from behind the trees.
He spoke up.
“Andy? Is that you?”
Not that Lucas had actually seen much in that moment, being occupied with being kicked in the ribs and not choking on his own asthma.
His hand gripped the rock in his hand. It was pointier than the last one, like a very short, fat stalagmite. Or just a round rock with a slight point. Either way, It would work much better than the stupid goddamn urumi that was still in his bag.
He slid his bag off his shoulders, moving carefully so as not to make a sound. He didn’t need that weighing him down. He knew he couldn’t overpower Andy, the guy had at least a foot on him, and he was still aching from his bath with Marco the day before. But he didn’t need to make the job even more exhausting than it was no doubt going to be by trying to lug his stuff around at the same time.
It would go better this time. He wasn’t going to fuck up twice.
He crept out from behind the trees.
He spoke up.
“Andy? Is that you?”
"Oh, it's you." Huh. Andy wasn't sure who he'd expected to be creeping around, but he guessed that Brady made as much sense as anyone. He looked even more like shit than the last time Andy had seen him; if their last encounter was any indication, Andy wouldn't have been surprised if Brady had spent the day in-between running around screaming threats at other people who could beat the shit out of him and gotten exactly what he was asking for.
Andy glanced back at Abe, still a ways back. He wasn't sure if Abe could make out his expression from there, but hopefully the idea that he was unconcerned got across, so that Abe didn't start spraying bullets in every direction when Brady made a move. Then again, Abe hadn't even bothered to start spraying bullets when Axel and Morgan had Brady squashed into the dirt, so that might not be an issue.
Glancing back, he planted his hands casually on his hips. "How's the rescue plan coming along?"
Was that kicking a guy when he was down? Maybe. But shit, Andy was down too, real down, and Brady only ever dug himself deeper with these things. If he was smart, he wouldn't have shown up anywhere near them again. Screaming in someone's face that you hoped they died a horrible death was kind of a bridge-burner.
Andy glanced back at Abe, still a ways back. He wasn't sure if Abe could make out his expression from there, but hopefully the idea that he was unconcerned got across, so that Abe didn't start spraying bullets in every direction when Brady made a move. Then again, Abe hadn't even bothered to start spraying bullets when Axel and Morgan had Brady squashed into the dirt, so that might not be an issue.
Glancing back, he planted his hands casually on his hips. "How's the rescue plan coming along?"
Was that kicking a guy when he was down? Maybe. But shit, Andy was down too, real down, and Brady only ever dug himself deeper with these things. If he was smart, he wouldn't have shown up anywhere near them again. Screaming in someone's face that you hoped they died a horrible death was kind of a bridge-burner.
"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."
Lucas squeezed his fist. He kept it down by his side, trying to keep his expression from turning into a twisted little bundle of rage. He couldn’t knee-jerk react here, baring his feelings just got his ass kicked every time. His rock stayed tucked into the back of his shorts, covered his shirt. It was cold against his skin, and it wasn't particularly hidden, but it was reassuringly close.
He breathed out, relaxing his hand. “Good one.” He scoffed. He debated smiling, try to look friendly, but he couldn’t quite go that far. Andy was still a fucker he was about to kill, after all. “No, everyone’s been as welcoming as you and the rest.” ‘of the rice paddy fuckers’, he had to cut himself off from saying.
“Which I don’t understand, because I’m just trying to help you people.” He continued. He wasn’t 100% sure of his overall conversation goal, but if he could get Andy to let his guard down, then that would be the starting point. Whether he believed him or just tried to insult him some more, the latter being more likely, it would work to his advantage. “Or maybe you all just want to get murdered, and I’m slowing things down?”
His face started to sneer. He had to pull himself back again. “So where is everyone? The other guys leave you alone in the mud with the shit kicked out of you too?”
He breathed out, relaxing his hand. “Good one.” He scoffed. He debated smiling, try to look friendly, but he couldn’t quite go that far. Andy was still a fucker he was about to kill, after all. “No, everyone’s been as welcoming as you and the rest.” ‘of the rice paddy fuckers’, he had to cut himself off from saying.
“Which I don’t understand, because I’m just trying to help you people.” He continued. He wasn’t 100% sure of his overall conversation goal, but if he could get Andy to let his guard down, then that would be the starting point. Whether he believed him or just tried to insult him some more, the latter being more likely, it would work to his advantage. “Or maybe you all just want to get murdered, and I’m slowing things down?”
His face started to sneer. He had to pull himself back again. “So where is everyone? The other guys leave you alone in the mud with the shit kicked out of you too?”
All Brady had ever been was talk, and he never seemed to know exactly what the fuck he was talking about. He acted like he was just entitled to people liking him and looking up to him, when he'd never done anything worth that, and then he got all pissy when he was rightfully called out on his shit. Andy didn't care about the Facebook thing. He'd been distantly aware of that, checking his social media feed and kind of laughing at the garbage fire in between lighting up and sorta-kinda practicing with Axel and Hel. It was just another part of the whole mess. Brady was the one with a chip on his shoulder about something that, as far as Andy could tell, nobody had ever cared about as much as he did.
"They're around. You're way too fucking late to help anyone, dumbass." There was an edge in Andy's voice that hadn't crept in there so much as shoved its way in.
All that fucking talk, all the screaming about how much they all owed him for doing jack shit. Andy had spent all of yesterday in a fog, with a vice threatening to clamp down on his chest whenever he thought too hard, because he heard first thing in the morning that his girlfriend had murdered two people and then-
And then.
Then this little bitch showed up out of nowhere, still smug as all fuck, like he could just keep making his bullshit sales pitch and it was everyone else who was wrong. "I guess it's kind of hard to understand when you don't have any actual friends, but whatever you're trying to do is way too little, too late, man. Do yourself and everyone else a fucking favor and let it go, and maybe you won't keep getting your ass beat, huh?"
He wasn't looking for a fight. Not yet. Not worth it, not here, not with him. But Andy's nerves were sizzling, and they had been for a while, he realized. He wanted to do- something. He had for hours. Maybe for days, now. Brady's face hadn't gotten any less punchable since the last time Andy saw him, and every word out of his stupid mouth pushed them closer together.
"They're around. You're way too fucking late to help anyone, dumbass." There was an edge in Andy's voice that hadn't crept in there so much as shoved its way in.
All that fucking talk, all the screaming about how much they all owed him for doing jack shit. Andy had spent all of yesterday in a fog, with a vice threatening to clamp down on his chest whenever he thought too hard, because he heard first thing in the morning that his girlfriend had murdered two people and then-
And then.
Then this little bitch showed up out of nowhere, still smug as all fuck, like he could just keep making his bullshit sales pitch and it was everyone else who was wrong. "I guess it's kind of hard to understand when you don't have any actual friends, but whatever you're trying to do is way too little, too late, man. Do yourself and everyone else a fucking favor and let it go, and maybe you won't keep getting your ass beat, huh?"
He wasn't looking for a fight. Not yet. Not worth it, not here, not with him. But Andy's nerves were sizzling, and they had been for a while, he realized. He wanted to do- something. He had for hours. Maybe for days, now. Brady's face hadn't gotten any less punchable since the last time Andy saw him, and every word out of his stupid mouth pushed them closer together.
"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."
Lucas’ face did sneer after all. Andy being a prick was making it a definite challenge to keep from looking like he wanted to bash his head in, but on the plus side it would make it that much easier to actually do it in mere moments when the chance presented itself.
He didn’t want to just let him have the last word though, his ego would not allow it. ‘I do have friends’ he very nearly shouted back, but once again he caught himself. Whether it was true or not, he couldn’t be sure, but it was not relevant right now. Probably not relevant ever again. Instead, he folded his arms and stared Andy down. For some reason, his leg was shaking.
“What’s that? You threatening me? Not that impressive when you’re just by yourself.” He went with instead, paying little attention to whether it flowed logically from Andy’s words and much more on how masterfully baiting it was. If Andy got near him, trying to prove what a big dick man he was, Lucas could blindside him with the rock and get the drop on him.
Assuming he didn’t have a gun, or something. He had not considered that possibility, he realised.
“W-well?! What are you gonna do then, huh?!” he barked, arms folding tighter.
He didn’t want to just let him have the last word though, his ego would not allow it. ‘I do have friends’ he very nearly shouted back, but once again he caught himself. Whether it was true or not, he couldn’t be sure, but it was not relevant right now. Probably not relevant ever again. Instead, he folded his arms and stared Andy down. For some reason, his leg was shaking.
“What’s that? You threatening me? Not that impressive when you’re just by yourself.” He went with instead, paying little attention to whether it flowed logically from Andy’s words and much more on how masterfully baiting it was. If Andy got near him, trying to prove what a big dick man he was, Lucas could blindside him with the rock and get the drop on him.
Assuming he didn’t have a gun, or something. He had not considered that possibility, he realised.
“W-well?! What are you gonna do then, huh?!” he barked, arms folding tighter.
Well this was fukken awkward. Abe had been a little concerned when some guy had emerged from the trees like a lame dryad, because the list of killers was growing every day (and shrinking a whole lot faster than he'd like, not that he was keeping it all straight in his head, but he was pretty sure Quinn had gotten a pentakill already) and every new face was just a shiny new opportunity to get your head blown off.
Thankfully, it looked like they were just talking, so maybe it was one of Andy's bros? He was too far away to really see or hear him clearly. He started meandering over there a bit quicker, just in case they were in need of a friendly gunman, and whoops, they were shouting at each other now, and he'd recognize that whiny voice anywhere, Facebook Lucas was back for more ridicule. Abe wasn't exactly happy about that, but like, the way the dude was freaking out, he was obviously bringing it on himself.
"The fuck are you assholes doing over there?" He called out, now at something approaching a brisk walk, because he wasn't that concerned to be perfectly honest.
Thankfully, it looked like they were just talking, so maybe it was one of Andy's bros? He was too far away to really see or hear him clearly. He started meandering over there a bit quicker, just in case they were in need of a friendly gunman, and whoops, they were shouting at each other now, and he'd recognize that whiny voice anywhere, Facebook Lucas was back for more ridicule. Abe wasn't exactly happy about that, but like, the way the dude was freaking out, he was obviously bringing it on himself.
"The fuck are you assholes doing over there?" He called out, now at something approaching a brisk walk, because he wasn't that concerned to be perfectly honest.
Five.
Andy glanced back at Abe. Still not close enough to really communicate the feeling of "you hearing this shit?" via expression. Too bad. It was definitely the mood of the day.
Four.
Brady wouldn't have been very impressive even if Andy hadn't been a full head taller and a lot less beat up, and even if Andy hadn't been thisfuckingclose to hauling off. At this point he was just waiting for an excuse. The nervous jiggling and quiver in his voice made it clear that he knew he was just inviting trouble by mouthing off.
Three.
But hey, an invitation was an invitation.
Twoonefuckyou!
"C'mere, you little shit." Andy dropped his bags, closed the distance between them in a few strides, threw one arm around Brady in a half-assed chokehold, and dug the knuckles of his other hand into the top of Brady's head, twisting his hand to noogie him hard. "You wanna fucking fight? You don't even know how!"
Andy glanced back at Abe. Still not close enough to really communicate the feeling of "you hearing this shit?" via expression. Too bad. It was definitely the mood of the day.
Four.
Brady wouldn't have been very impressive even if Andy hadn't been a full head taller and a lot less beat up, and even if Andy hadn't been thisfuckingclose to hauling off. At this point he was just waiting for an excuse. The nervous jiggling and quiver in his voice made it clear that he knew he was just inviting trouble by mouthing off.
Three.
But hey, an invitation was an invitation.
Twoonefuckyou!
"C'mere, you little shit." Andy dropped his bags, closed the distance between them in a few strides, threw one arm around Brady in a half-assed chokehold, and dug the knuckles of his other hand into the top of Brady's head, twisting his hand to noogie him hard. "You wanna fucking fight? You don't even know how!"
"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."
Despite his best efforts, Lucas still screamed a shrill scream as Andy closed the gap on him.
He really did not have an actual plan, it had occurred to him far, far too late. If Andy had a knife or just a stronger upper body, he could’ve slit his throat or snapped his neck and there’d be very little he could do about it. A noogie was a merciful blessing.
Lucas did not see it that way, for he was too distraught with the blistering rubbing of his scalp and the burning humiliation of being overpowered yet again so quickly. His face turned red once more, as he pulled pointlessly at Andy’s arms. “Let go!” he yelped, to no avail.
He clenched his teeth as Andy’s side pressed into him and his knuckle dug into his head. Were it a day ago, Andy probably would’ve had his way with Lucas then walked off, leaving him the fool once more.
But this was not the day before, and Lucas had a whole Marco fight to hone his instincts. He knew where to hit to hurt, because his own body part was still sore from the day before. Andy, in his stupidity, had positioned Lucas right next to where he was aiming.
Too bad for him, Lucas had grabbed his rock out of the back of his shorts.
Lucas swung his arm out under his hunched over body, the stone firm and hard in his hand, before swinging it back up right up into Andy’s crotch.
He really did not have an actual plan, it had occurred to him far, far too late. If Andy had a knife or just a stronger upper body, he could’ve slit his throat or snapped his neck and there’d be very little he could do about it. A noogie was a merciful blessing.
Lucas did not see it that way, for he was too distraught with the blistering rubbing of his scalp and the burning humiliation of being overpowered yet again so quickly. His face turned red once more, as he pulled pointlessly at Andy’s arms. “Let go!” he yelped, to no avail.
He clenched his teeth as Andy’s side pressed into him and his knuckle dug into his head. Were it a day ago, Andy probably would’ve had his way with Lucas then walked off, leaving him the fool once more.
But this was not the day before, and Lucas had a whole Marco fight to hone his instincts. He knew where to hit to hurt, because his own body part was still sore from the day before. Andy, in his stupidity, had positioned Lucas right next to where he was aiming.
Too bad for him, Lucas had grabbed his rock out of the back of his shorts.
Lucas swung his arm out under his hunched over body, the stone firm and hard in his hand, before swinging it back up right up into Andy’s crotch.
Andy probably could have left it there, given Brady a new bald spot for his troubles and then dumped him on the ground and walked away. His only regret would have been that they didn't live in an 80's movie, and thus that he'd never have the opportunity to dunk Brady's head in a toilet.
Maybe that was how things would have played out if Brady hadn't decided to fight dirty.
It wasn't like Andy had never been hit in the balls before, he had three brothers and had played sports for most of his life, not to mention constant scrapping with Axel. Brady was just the first asshole to do it with a rock in his fist. Andy honest-to-god fucking yelped because fuck, he felt that all the way in the pit of his stomach.
He dropped Brady, instead doubling over to catch his breath. "You little bitch," he wheezed.
He wanted to make this a real fight? This could be a real fight. As soon as Andy could straighten up from where he was at, Brady was dead fucking meat.
Maybe that was how things would have played out if Brady hadn't decided to fight dirty.
It wasn't like Andy had never been hit in the balls before, he had three brothers and had played sports for most of his life, not to mention constant scrapping with Axel. Brady was just the first asshole to do it with a rock in his fist. Andy honest-to-god fucking yelped because fuck, he felt that all the way in the pit of his stomach.
He dropped Brady, instead doubling over to catch his breath. "You little bitch," he wheezed.
He wanted to make this a real fight? This could be a real fight. As soon as Andy could straighten up from where he was at, Brady was dead fucking meat.
"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."
Lucas scrambled away from Andy as he went down, savouring his brief triumph as his scalp itched from the noogie. He recognised it for what it was though, and tried to quickly decide what his next move would be.
He could’ve jumped on top of Andy, tried to get an upper hand on him, but he knew that would end badly. Even if he had got him good and square in the family jewels, he still had the physical advantage on Lucas. And if he just walked up near him and hoped for the best, it would likely end even worse than when Marco had fought back.
So he went with what he’d tried to pull on Marco, and ran for Andy’s bag. He must have had something better than an Urumi, Lucas was certain of the fact. He unzipped it, grabbing the first thing that looked like a weapon to him. Well, it was the first thing that didn’t look like rations or supplies, because he had not expected what he’d ended up with
He ran back, not stopping to observe his surroundings and make sure they really were alone. He didn’t have time for anything like that, he didn’t even have time to ask what the hell he was doing. Any second, Andy could recover and turn on him. All there was time for was smashing the terrarium of fire ants over Andy and hoping for the best, screaming all the while.
He could’ve jumped on top of Andy, tried to get an upper hand on him, but he knew that would end badly. Even if he had got him good and square in the family jewels, he still had the physical advantage on Lucas. And if he just walked up near him and hoped for the best, it would likely end even worse than when Marco had fought back.
So he went with what he’d tried to pull on Marco, and ran for Andy’s bag. He must have had something better than an Urumi, Lucas was certain of the fact. He unzipped it, grabbing the first thing that looked like a weapon to him. Well, it was the first thing that didn’t look like rations or supplies, because he had not expected what he’d ended up with
He ran back, not stopping to observe his surroundings and make sure they really were alone. He didn’t have time for anything like that, he didn’t even have time to ask what the hell he was doing. Any second, Andy could recover and turn on him. All there was time for was smashing the terrarium of fire ants over Andy and hoping for the best, screaming all the while.
Andy did not straighten up in time to keep from taking a terrarium of ants to the face.
The plastic of the terrarium didn't shatter, which y'know, small miracles and all that. Andy wasn't in the mood to appreciate small miracles, given that he'd just been socked in the balls and now showered with dirt and pissed-off ants.
"GAH! YOU-!" Andy took a swing at Brady that struck a glancing blow at best, but it was enough to get him to start retreating and give Andy a moment to frantically swipe at himself to clear off the dirt and stinging bugs. When he blinked enough to clear his vision and be sure that there were no fucking ants in it, he saw Brady retreating back to the trees.
Andy gave chase without a second thought, blinded with rage and the manic energy that he'd been struggling to keep under control for days.
The plastic of the terrarium didn't shatter, which y'know, small miracles and all that. Andy wasn't in the mood to appreciate small miracles, given that he'd just been socked in the balls and now showered with dirt and pissed-off ants.
"GAH! YOU-!" Andy took a swing at Brady that struck a glancing blow at best, but it was enough to get him to start retreating and give Andy a moment to frantically swipe at himself to clear off the dirt and stinging bugs. When he blinked enough to clear his vision and be sure that there were no fucking ants in it, he saw Brady retreating back to the trees.
Andy gave chase without a second thought, blinded with rage and the manic energy that he'd been struggling to keep under control for days.
"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."