His hand slid down the cold brick wall as he lurched over. He emptied the contents of his stomach again along the ruins of the lighthouse and the dirt below. The bile was black, muddy like oil, with hints of red swirling around in there.
Marcus Volker was a dead man walking.
He didn’t know it at the time, but he knew it now. He wasn’t walking out of that island alive, that much was clear. That bastard really fucked him up. He choked back a sob through a laugh, his leg was shaking, it wouldn’t stop. Everything hurt, especially when he had the urge to yack. Throwing up hurt the worst, but now, now he couldn’t stop.
He wasn’t going to even make it to the next morning. Terror racked his body. Terror. Marco had felt a lot of things on this island that he hadn’t felt anywhere else, from pain to pleasure, victories and losses. Love and hate. Now he felt terror. He was terrified of the inevitable, he was terrified that all he had done would amount to nothing, he was terrified most of all that he couldn’t change any of it.
It hurt.
It hurt so bad.
“A-Adonis!”
Three hours earlier...
(( Marco Volker continued from Taking Heads and Giving It.))
“We’re gonna get those god damn Enchiladas.” Marco was still hella, HELLA bitter about BKA. That shit wasn’t right. If all it took to get a good meal was kicking in a retarded kid, he’d have finished off Lucas at the beach, especially now with the knowledge that pussy killed himself. Fucking weakling. Marco felt betrayed in putting faith into him and letting him go.
Lucas aside, Marco wanted those Enchiladas. He would get them. It was nothing personal, he didn’t hate Madison for what she did, or for being chosen. It was just that he deserved them more and did more to earn them. Hell if she handed them over, Marco would even let her live, she could keep whatever weapon she gets too, unless Adonis wanted it, then it would just suck to suck at that point. If she said no though, Marco was gonna cut her head in half, simple enough.
Him and Adonis spent the last couple hours patrolling the Bay Area. It was fruitless so far, but shit never really happens when he expects it to, so it was par for the course. Still it would be nice to get the drop on someone else instead of vice versa for once.
Marco sat against a tree, pulling out a water bottle. “Fuck it, break time.” He took a few gulps and sighed. “Well Adonis, I hate that you found out the new you, only to deal with this boring bullshit, but that’s how it be sometimes. You can never find someone to gank when you actually look for them. Seems like the only time we get to kill people is when they pop out of the tree line to drop kick you in the back.” Rest his soul. His first real rival died far too early.
“Anyways, this place just opened up, so we’re sure to find someone. Everyone likes going to new places. Perfect spot to set up an ambush, you know.”
You Are Already Dead
Things have happened.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
((Adonis Cohen continued from Paradise is Nowhere))
Adonis didn't want to admit that he wasn't feeling well and he had popped some pills down his throat, hoping that it would make the likely broken rib or a few broken ones stop hurting. It had been hard to hide his winces a few times and he didn't want to be a liability to Marco already. He wanted to be useful for the other boy and for himself. He really should be in a hospital but that wasn't going to magical happen for him and he just had to somehow deal with it. Pain being caused to himself was definitely not his favourite thing.
Enchiladas...? Oh, right! Madison won them, I think. I was kinda more hung up on other people on the announcement. Enchiladas would definitely be a nicer meal than what we currently still have. Hmm.
Adonis realized that he still hadn't ate anything for a couple of days and the fatigue was starting to take over his body more. He had managed to quickly grab some food and other supplies from Colin's bag before he had to book it after Marco with a beeping collar. He didn't want to say that he had been scared of dying in a danger zone as he kind of felt excited at the time for his life being at risk. For death. Maybe that was his thrill. He'll figure it out sooner or later.
Adonis turned to look at Marco who was sitting down and he remained standing, leaning slightly against the tree to avoid sitting down himself. "i kind of assumed that it wouldn't be that easy to find other people to mess with. Colin really was a worthy opponent, huh?" Adonis said with a knowing smirk and he still felt like he had forgotten something important. Eh. He was sure that he would remember it soon. "Mmm. An ambush... I like the idea of that but uh.... We definitely need to make sure that we don't get ambushed by someone else while we're doing the same to someone else."
Oh.
OH.
"Someone has a tracker! Or had one. Emil's dead now. So I assume.... I assume Lorenzo has it and he's gonna be one step ahead of us!"
Adonis then realized that he let the cat out of the bag and then he still hadn't let anyone see his 'weapon'.
"...Oh, right. That's what I forgot to tell you about. Ha, ha. My bad." He was now laughing awkwardly and then he rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. "My weapon... Do you want to see it, Marco?"
....
That was not supposed to sound dirty.
Damn.
Adonis didn't want to admit that he wasn't feeling well and he had popped some pills down his throat, hoping that it would make the likely broken rib or a few broken ones stop hurting. It had been hard to hide his winces a few times and he didn't want to be a liability to Marco already. He wanted to be useful for the other boy and for himself. He really should be in a hospital but that wasn't going to magical happen for him and he just had to somehow deal with it. Pain being caused to himself was definitely not his favourite thing.
Enchiladas...? Oh, right! Madison won them, I think. I was kinda more hung up on other people on the announcement. Enchiladas would definitely be a nicer meal than what we currently still have. Hmm.
Adonis realized that he still hadn't ate anything for a couple of days and the fatigue was starting to take over his body more. He had managed to quickly grab some food and other supplies from Colin's bag before he had to book it after Marco with a beeping collar. He didn't want to say that he had been scared of dying in a danger zone as he kind of felt excited at the time for his life being at risk. For death. Maybe that was his thrill. He'll figure it out sooner or later.
Adonis turned to look at Marco who was sitting down and he remained standing, leaning slightly against the tree to avoid sitting down himself. "i kind of assumed that it wouldn't be that easy to find other people to mess with. Colin really was a worthy opponent, huh?" Adonis said with a knowing smirk and he still felt like he had forgotten something important. Eh. He was sure that he would remember it soon. "Mmm. An ambush... I like the idea of that but uh.... We definitely need to make sure that we don't get ambushed by someone else while we're doing the same to someone else."
Oh.
OH.
"Someone has a tracker! Or had one. Emil's dead now. So I assume.... I assume Lorenzo has it and he's gonna be one step ahead of us!"
Adonis then realized that he let the cat out of the bag and then he still hadn't let anyone see his 'weapon'.
"...Oh, right. That's what I forgot to tell you about. Ha, ha. My bad." He was now laughing awkwardly and then he rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. "My weapon... Do you want to see it, Marco?"
....
That was not supposed to sound dirty.
Damn.
“Oh.”
Damn, Daniel. That actually would have been really, REALLY nice to know Adonis! Jeez, what could have distracted you that bad to forget abou-
Oh.
Oh yeah. Right...
Very well, understandable. Marco did forget to ask about what it was earlier as well too, having also been ‘distracted’ so he couldn’t be that mad.
Still if they wanted to ambush someone, Lorenzo would probably be the worst due to the fact he has that, AND a gun if announcements meant anything. Marco took a sip of water. Yep, he’d be the worst to come across for sure.
Would be a shame if that happened, huh?
“But yeah. Colin’s like, really the only one worth anything that I’ve killed. Ariana just talked shit, then shot me in the butt when I wasn’t looking, and the other reject... Man he was too weak to even beg or grovel. Just went on a tangent about me.” Marco shrugged. “Anyways, let’s hear it about your ‘weapon’. How do you know what Lorenzo’s got?”
Damn, Daniel. That actually would have been really, REALLY nice to know Adonis! Jeez, what could have distracted you that bad to forget abou-
Oh.
Oh yeah. Right...
Very well, understandable. Marco did forget to ask about what it was earlier as well too, having also been ‘distracted’ so he couldn’t be that mad.
Still if they wanted to ambush someone, Lorenzo would probably be the worst due to the fact he has that, AND a gun if announcements meant anything. Marco took a sip of water. Yep, he’d be the worst to come across for sure.
Would be a shame if that happened, huh?
“But yeah. Colin’s like, really the only one worth anything that I’ve killed. Ariana just talked shit, then shot me in the butt when I wasn’t looking, and the other reject... Man he was too weak to even beg or grovel. Just went on a tangent about me.” Marco shrugged. “Anyways, let’s hear it about your ‘weapon’. How do you know what Lorenzo’s got?”
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
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Adonis' mind was trying hard to not think about Marco in all his glory again and he was somewhat relieved that Marco was distracting him by asking about what he got. He remembered how he only wanted to show it to one person as he felt like he trusted them a lot and now he wondered if he could anymore. Well, he guessed that he did trust Marco enough to show it to him and he wondered how good it was for them now. A lot of the weapons were in other people's hands more likely and he wasn't gonna lie.... Having a collar radar or tracker or whatever would be very useful for him and Marco to use. He was pretty sure that throwing it away would be some wasted protentional.
"Well, I don't know how useful it would really be to us now.... But maybe... Just maybe...." Adonis murmured softly as he unzipped his bag and he got out the binder that had the full list of students. "Here. This is what I got."
He held it out to Marco and then he almost felt a sharp pain as he moved down slightly. This really was not a good day for him to be injured.
"Also who would leave a collar radar/tracker with a dead body? If I had killed Emil, I would have taken it to hunt for other people to kill-"
Adonis paused as he realized what he said and he blinked a little in surprise. Did he really just say that so bluntly? One of his classmates was murdered by Lorenzo and he was talking about it like it was one of the most normal things for someone to do.
"Well, I don't know how useful it would really be to us now.... But maybe... Just maybe...." Adonis murmured softly as he unzipped his bag and he got out the binder that had the full list of students. "Here. This is what I got."
He held it out to Marco and then he almost felt a sharp pain as he moved down slightly. This really was not a good day for him to be injured.
"Also who would leave a collar radar/tracker with a dead body? If I had killed Emil, I would have taken it to hunt for other people to kill-"
Adonis paused as he realized what he said and he blinked a little in surprise. Did he really just say that so bluntly? One of his classmates was murdered by Lorenzo and he was talking about it like it was one of the most normal things for someone to do.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
'Make America Great Again.'
Fuck that shit. The red baseball cap was tasting the waves pounding against the rocky shore. In the garbage, where it belonged. America wasn't great. Not an America that let any of this happen.
((Wyatt Carter, continued from the last one))
Water to one side of him and water coming up ahead to a point. It wasn't a good sign for his travels, reaching what was effectively one of the island's corners, and remained empty handed. There couldn't have been too many kids left, he thought, but he admittedly hadn't been keeping track of the numbers. They'd made it to day 6, himself and Tirzah. Lots of his friends, and those who weren't his friends, hadn't made it that far. The person he truly loved out here hadn't made it that far. With their stay at Camp Shithole going the way it was, each day wore down on the body and the mind more and more. At least food hadn't been a problem. Wyatt wasn't hungry at all, managing a few slices of bread, some crackers, and a sip of water. He couldn't bring himself to stomach the bars for all the good it would do.
The game was mental just as much as it was physical, damn it all to hell. Things being 'mental' was his weakness. His confidence didn't shake much but it had from time to time, and he got inside his own head in a game at least once. Ace or Connor or coach had to bust him out of it before it got too out of hand. Tirzah was the only person available to help now and, bless her heart she'd been doing her best, but Wyatt couldn't lay all that weight on one girl. Their paths kept each other close by, weaving around the island to broaden the search just a bit. Tirzah had been mindful of resources and noted there weren't too many bottles of water left. Knowing the dangers of imminent dehydration, Tirzah had been sent to scout for more water. Just as well she not be there if he found Connor. Things wouldn't be pretty.
Long before his approach, Wyatt could see the ramshackle remains of what he could only assume to be a lighthouse, though he'd had to stretch his assumptions a fair bit to make out that that was what it even was. It no longer resembled anything that it must have in its heyday, aging the ghostly abandoned community this island once had... just monkeys and goats and around a trillion bugs now. And two kids sitting against a tree enjoying the shade.
Once he saw them, Wyatt moved straight for them, pulling the gun out of his belt. No need to waste time or make a bigger deal out of this than he had to.
Find Claude.
Fuck that shit. The red baseball cap was tasting the waves pounding against the rocky shore. In the garbage, where it belonged. America wasn't great. Not an America that let any of this happen.
((Wyatt Carter, continued from the last one))
Water to one side of him and water coming up ahead to a point. It wasn't a good sign for his travels, reaching what was effectively one of the island's corners, and remained empty handed. There couldn't have been too many kids left, he thought, but he admittedly hadn't been keeping track of the numbers. They'd made it to day 6, himself and Tirzah. Lots of his friends, and those who weren't his friends, hadn't made it that far. The person he truly loved out here hadn't made it that far. With their stay at Camp Shithole going the way it was, each day wore down on the body and the mind more and more. At least food hadn't been a problem. Wyatt wasn't hungry at all, managing a few slices of bread, some crackers, and a sip of water. He couldn't bring himself to stomach the bars for all the good it would do.
The game was mental just as much as it was physical, damn it all to hell. Things being 'mental' was his weakness. His confidence didn't shake much but it had from time to time, and he got inside his own head in a game at least once. Ace or Connor or coach had to bust him out of it before it got too out of hand. Tirzah was the only person available to help now and, bless her heart she'd been doing her best, but Wyatt couldn't lay all that weight on one girl. Their paths kept each other close by, weaving around the island to broaden the search just a bit. Tirzah had been mindful of resources and noted there weren't too many bottles of water left. Knowing the dangers of imminent dehydration, Tirzah had been sent to scout for more water. Just as well she not be there if he found Connor. Things wouldn't be pretty.
Long before his approach, Wyatt could see the ramshackle remains of what he could only assume to be a lighthouse, though he'd had to stretch his assumptions a fair bit to make out that that was what it even was. It no longer resembled anything that it must have in its heyday, aging the ghostly abandoned community this island once had... just monkeys and goats and around a trillion bugs now. And two kids sitting against a tree enjoying the shade.
Once he saw them, Wyatt moved straight for them, pulling the gun out of his belt. No need to waste time or make a bigger deal out of this than he had to.
Find Claude.
Marco was just about ready to start reading up on this book, just to make a mental note of who had what when Adonis stopped mid sentence.
Marco moved his focus up to the person walking to him. Oh. He recognized him. He did. Man Wyatt looked pissed. He had eyes like a terminator as he moved towards them. Marco wanted to start quoting Terminator in his own perverted form of Baneposting, but he was sure Wyatt wouldn’t get it. Marco decided that fuck it, he’d do it anyways. He tapped Adonis on the shoulder before standing up. “Hey, what’s wrong with this picture?”
One hand on his chainsaw, the other in his pocket, on his little ninja trick. He figured he’d take it as far as he could before anyone stopped him. Wyatt of all people wouldn’t humor him Marco figured, but there was always that rare chance.
“Nice night for a walk...” It was morning.
Marco only just realized that Tweedle Dee wasn’t following Tweedle Dumb. He figured they’d be- Marco remembered the announcements.
Oh.
That’d explain a lot.
Well, there’d be no defusing this...
On the bright side though, if anyone had a chance of taking out The King of House George Hunter High, it’d be Ser Volker...
Marco smiled.
Marco moved his focus up to the person walking to him. Oh. He recognized him. He did. Man Wyatt looked pissed. He had eyes like a terminator as he moved towards them. Marco wanted to start quoting Terminator in his own perverted form of Baneposting, but he was sure Wyatt wouldn’t get it. Marco decided that fuck it, he’d do it anyways. He tapped Adonis on the shoulder before standing up. “Hey, what’s wrong with this picture?”
One hand on his chainsaw, the other in his pocket, on his little ninja trick. He figured he’d take it as far as he could before anyone stopped him. Wyatt of all people wouldn’t humor him Marco figured, but there was always that rare chance.
“Nice night for a walk...” It was morning.
Marco only just realized that Tweedle Dee wasn’t following Tweedle Dumb. He figured they’d be- Marco remembered the announcements.
Oh.
That’d explain a lot.
Well, there’d be no defusing this...
On the bright side though, if anyone had a chance of taking out The King of House George Hunter High, it’d be Ser Volker...
Marco smiled.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
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Adonis hadn't even realized for a moment that someone was coming toward them and he put the binder down on the ground, knowing that there was no way that Wyatt would be interested in looking at it. Beside Wyatt had a gun... A gun. Was this his first time seeing one in real life? He knew that his Dad had one locked away in one of the drawers in his parents' room and Adonis had not wanted to think about home in that moment. Anyway, Wyatt didn't look like he was in the mood for Marco's jokes and Adonis couldn't blame him. Losing a brother... Adonis didn't even want to think about his siblings. So he blocked them out of his mind and he focused more on the present in front of him.
He slowly leaned back up and he let out a slight grunt, trying not to curse under his breath. "Wyatt..." He was trying hard to not laugh at Marco's immaturity and it was hard to not do so with his slightly broken mind. He felt like Wyatt was about to mess up their day and he would have welcomed it. If his body was not about to shatter on him and if Wyatt wasn't in better shape than the both of them. "H-Heh."
Uh-oh.
He didn't mean to make a little scoff. Dammit, Marco!
Adonis was still leaning against the tree and he didn't make any move forward. He was still lacking in the weapons department and he noticed that it seemed like Marco wanted to get into a fight himself. So Adonis wasn't going to interrupt and he wanted to see how things would go. But the gun.... The gun was a big problem.
He slowly leaned back up and he let out a slight grunt, trying not to curse under his breath. "Wyatt..." He was trying hard to not laugh at Marco's immaturity and it was hard to not do so with his slightly broken mind. He felt like Wyatt was about to mess up their day and he would have welcomed it. If his body was not about to shatter on him and if Wyatt wasn't in better shape than the both of them. "H-Heh."
Uh-oh.
He didn't mean to make a little scoff. Dammit, Marco!
Adonis was still leaning against the tree and he didn't make any move forward. He was still lacking in the weapons department and he noticed that it seemed like Marco wanted to get into a fight himself. So Adonis wasn't going to interrupt and he wanted to see how things would go. But the gun.... The gun was a big problem.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Those were the responses he'd expected.
If their faces were any indication, Wyatt would bet Marco and Adonis's sphincters were tight enough to turn coal to diamonds. Then again, knowing them, 'tight' and 'sphincter' probably weren't two words often found adjacent to one another in their vocabulary. It would have been a ripe opportunity for a joke, if Wyatt gave a fuck about jokes anymore. But they'd been kind enough to let him get close, a fact well-appreciated. A lesson his dad once taught him: walk into the room like you own the place, and nobody will question you being there. Wyatt lived his life by that creed. In the halls of GHHS, when one of the Carter boys came a-callin', you got out of the way. It was a brazen move, but a decently smart bet, that stomping around the island could at least give somebody pause long enough to close the distance with greater effect than sneaking around.
Oh, and the fact neither one of them seemed to have a gun probably helped matters too. Would explain why there was no gunshots yet.
Wyatt pointed his gun at Marco first, licking the insides of his cheeks before speaking.
"Seen Claude?"
If their faces were any indication, Wyatt would bet Marco and Adonis's sphincters were tight enough to turn coal to diamonds. Then again, knowing them, 'tight' and 'sphincter' probably weren't two words often found adjacent to one another in their vocabulary. It would have been a ripe opportunity for a joke, if Wyatt gave a fuck about jokes anymore. But they'd been kind enough to let him get close, a fact well-appreciated. A lesson his dad once taught him: walk into the room like you own the place, and nobody will question you being there. Wyatt lived his life by that creed. In the halls of GHHS, when one of the Carter boys came a-callin', you got out of the way. It was a brazen move, but a decently smart bet, that stomping around the island could at least give somebody pause long enough to close the distance with greater effect than sneaking around.
Oh, and the fact neither one of them seemed to have a gun probably helped matters too. Would explain why there was no gunshots yet.
Wyatt pointed his gun at Marco first, licking the insides of his cheeks before speaking.
"Seen Claude?"
Damn...
Was really hoping Wyatt would reply with Marco's question so he could continue on with 'Wash day tomorrow, nothing clean right?' but you can't get everything you wanted. Truth be told, he should've just started out with 'Dr. Pavel, CIA.' That was always a conversation starter.
Marco looked to the barrel of Wyatt's gun, then back to Adonis. His eye trailed up to the Carter, grin on his face. "Naw, I haven't. Got my condolences though, but to be honest, I figured you for the guy to have shot him already. I mean, I would've if it was me. Then again maybe he was on the other side of the island or something. I get it, I do. Been spending this last week looking for the bitches that did this." Marco pointed to his bad eye. "No goddamn luck." Marco gripped the glass bag tight.
"If I were you, I'd give up on looking. He'll find you eventually. If you're good, you'll take him out, easy peasy lemon squeezy. If not... Least you see your brother again, and once again you do have my condolences."
His eye looked at the gun, then back at Wyatt.
"Now, you of all people should know the four weapon safety rules, so, would you kindly get that fucking fucker out of my fucking face before this shit gets ugly? Would be a shame to split you in two before your journey even began."
Was really hoping Wyatt would reply with Marco's question so he could continue on with 'Wash day tomorrow, nothing clean right?' but you can't get everything you wanted. Truth be told, he should've just started out with 'Dr. Pavel, CIA.' That was always a conversation starter.
Marco looked to the barrel of Wyatt's gun, then back to Adonis. His eye trailed up to the Carter, grin on his face. "Naw, I haven't. Got my condolences though, but to be honest, I figured you for the guy to have shot him already. I mean, I would've if it was me. Then again maybe he was on the other side of the island or something. I get it, I do. Been spending this last week looking for the bitches that did this." Marco pointed to his bad eye. "No goddamn luck." Marco gripped the glass bag tight.
"If I were you, I'd give up on looking. He'll find you eventually. If you're good, you'll take him out, easy peasy lemon squeezy. If not... Least you see your brother again, and once again you do have my condolences."
His eye looked at the gun, then back at Wyatt.
"Now, you of all people should know the four weapon safety rules, so, would you kindly get that fucking fucker out of my fucking face before this shit gets ugly? Would be a shame to split you in two before your journey even began."
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
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Adonis knew that Claude was out there somewhere and it sucked that people that you are looking for are hard to find. Adonis knew what Wyatt wanted to do to Claude and he couldn't blame him for wanting to get revenge for his brother. Adonis was staring at the gun that was pointing at Marco and he felt himself tensing up a little. He didn't dare move as he was afraid that it would make Wyatt pull the trigger and then Adonis would have to deal with a bleeding Marco. He didn't want that to happen and he just hoped that this would all blow over without any problems.
And now Marco was kind of provoking/threatening Wyatt and Adonis knew that it would be like that because Marco was being Marco. But he was still wary of the gun and he felt like he say something to stop things from possibly escalating. But he knew that Marco wouldn't want him to cut in again and he was willing to stroke Marco's ego for a while.
So he said nothing and he watched the scene in front of him quietly.
And now Marco was kind of provoking/threatening Wyatt and Adonis knew that it would be like that because Marco was being Marco. But he was still wary of the gun and he felt like he say something to stop things from possibly escalating. But he knew that Marco wouldn't want him to cut in again and he was willing to stroke Marco's ego for a while.
So he said nothing and he watched the scene in front of him quietly.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Wyatt's gun roared without warning, putting a bullet into the trunk of the tree about a foot and a half above Marco's head. Flecks of bark dislodged and scattered on the ground, if in a somewhat underwhelming way. Then, the impact of a bullet against a tree had always been a symbol of disappointment for him. It meant he missed the deer. This was no miss, however, and if Marco kept jerking him around the next shot would not miss.
"Let's try this again, because I'm not in the mood for your BULLSHIT."
Wyatt reached down for Marco's collar.
"Let's try this again, because I'm not in the mood for your BULLSHIT."
Wyatt reached down for Marco's collar.
We really doing this?
We really doing this.
Motherfucker just shot beside Marco to prove a point. Marco didn’t give a fuck if Wyatt lost his bro. You don’t try to prove a point with Marcus fucking Volker. He was nothing but hospitable to this prick and he had the gall, The FUCKING GALL to shoot by him to prove a point!? Did this motherfucker NOT know who he was fucking with? Marco’s grasp on the glass bag tightened as he held his arm behind him.
When Wyatt grabbed at Marco, he knew what would come next.
Grinning ear to ear, Marco smashed the bag of sand and glass across Wyatt’s face.
We really doing this.
Motherfucker just shot beside Marco to prove a point. Marco didn’t give a fuck if Wyatt lost his bro. You don’t try to prove a point with Marcus fucking Volker. He was nothing but hospitable to this prick and he had the gall, The FUCKING GALL to shoot by him to prove a point!? Did this motherfucker NOT know who he was fucking with? Marco’s grasp on the glass bag tightened as he held his arm behind him.
When Wyatt grabbed at Marco, he knew what would come next.
Grinning ear to ear, Marco smashed the bag of sand and glass across Wyatt’s face.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Maybe he'd been too forward about all of this. But you know, Wyatt thought he was being a nice guy by not just shooting Marco immediately. If he was truly monstrous, he could have just shot his faggot butt buddy next to him in both kneecaps and made him scream until somebody decided to tell him where Claude was. That would have been impractical and a waste of bullets, though. The smartest and coldest thing would have been to just pop each of them once in the head and be done with it.
But Wyatt famously ran hot and couldn't be cool and collected about anything and, as something blew straight into his face, he was struck with the realization that maybe he wasn't all that smart either.
Wyatt pulled back, reeling and nearly teetering onto his back. It was a small mercy that his legs stayed under him, but in his efforts to right himself he'd swayed and turned his body about. His eyes had clamped shut with irritation with some particles of sand having found their mark. Rubbing his eyes with his forearm was doing very little to mitigate the pain.
"YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!" Wyatt boomed, pointing the gun in the general direction his bearings told him Marco and Adonis were. He pulled the trigger several times, losing count on the exact number, and tried to force his eyes open. His vision was blurry and watered, and the slightest bit of light hurt. But they needed to open. Open, shut, open and shut, rapidly blinking to get the intrusive dust out of his face, Wyatt's primary focus was to get those two back in his vision. He had started to panic and that's why he fired the gun as much as he did. Panic wouldn't get him anywhere other than dead. He needed to calm down.
And he'd get right on that as soon as he could open his motherfucking eyes!
But Wyatt famously ran hot and couldn't be cool and collected about anything and, as something blew straight into his face, he was struck with the realization that maybe he wasn't all that smart either.
Wyatt pulled back, reeling and nearly teetering onto his back. It was a small mercy that his legs stayed under him, but in his efforts to right himself he'd swayed and turned his body about. His eyes had clamped shut with irritation with some particles of sand having found their mark. Rubbing his eyes with his forearm was doing very little to mitigate the pain.
"YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!" Wyatt boomed, pointing the gun in the general direction his bearings told him Marco and Adonis were. He pulled the trigger several times, losing count on the exact number, and tried to force his eyes open. His vision was blurry and watered, and the slightest bit of light hurt. But they needed to open. Open, shut, open and shut, rapidly blinking to get the intrusive dust out of his face, Wyatt's primary focus was to get those two back in his vision. He had started to panic and that's why he fired the gun as much as he did. Panic wouldn't get him anywhere other than dead. He needed to calm down.
And he'd get right on that as soon as he could open his motherfucking eyes!
You know, if Marco had the foresight to know he would be taking out Wyatt motherfuckin’ Carter, he’d have worn his Nazi Punks Fuck Off t shirt today instead of switching into his old duds. I mean, dressing like a skinhead while literally killing a skinhead? Let’s be honest, that image would be plastered all over /pol/ so hard that Marco could’ve swore a million little fashy souls cried out in terror at once.
Wait? Did they?
No.
That was just Wyatt.
Aw shit he still had his- “HIT THE DECK!” Bullets whizzed overhead and Marco couldn’t be sure if Adonis got hit or not. He had no time, but to drop to the ground out of sight and wait for his opening. He hoped Adonis didn’t get capped. He really really hope- Well damn here’s his chance!
Marco revved the chainsaw on the way up as he sprinted towards Wyatt. Sparks flew as the grind of metal on metal occurred as Wyatt brought the pistol up to defend himself before it was knocked away from the force of the swing. On the windup, Marco swung again vertically, before Wyatt managed to catch it by the engine block, as was the usual for his vertical swings at this point. Marco focused on Wyatt’s face, and every little wrinkle and grimace, Marco smiling outwardly, as he berated himself inwardly for telegraphing his swing so blatantly yet again.
“TODAY’S THE DAY, MOTHERFUCKER! WHEN YOU MEET YOUR BRO IN HELL, TELL HIM MARKY MARK AND THE FUNKY BUNCH SENT YA!”
Wait? Did they?
No.
That was just Wyatt.
Aw shit he still had his- “HIT THE DECK!” Bullets whizzed overhead and Marco couldn’t be sure if Adonis got hit or not. He had no time, but to drop to the ground out of sight and wait for his opening. He hoped Adonis didn’t get capped. He really really hope- Well damn here’s his chance!
Marco revved the chainsaw on the way up as he sprinted towards Wyatt. Sparks flew as the grind of metal on metal occurred as Wyatt brought the pistol up to defend himself before it was knocked away from the force of the swing. On the windup, Marco swung again vertically, before Wyatt managed to catch it by the engine block, as was the usual for his vertical swings at this point. Marco focused on Wyatt’s face, and every little wrinkle and grimace, Marco smiling outwardly, as he berated himself inwardly for telegraphing his swing so blatantly yet again.
“TODAY’S THE DAY, MOTHERFUCKER! WHEN YOU MEET YOUR BRO IN HELL, TELL HIM MARKY MARK AND THE FUNKY BUNCH SENT YA!”
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
If there was ever a signal to tell him that he needed to open his eyes and he needed to open them now, it was the revving of a chainsaw. Just his luck, Marco had to have run that thing not too long ago and gotten it warmed up, because it seemed to kick on straight away. The smell of burning gas fumes called forth memories of hacking apart the trunk of a fallen tree so Dad could have some firewood for the winter... 'there's just no substitute for that immediate warmth and the smell of burning wood', he said.
But now wasn't the time for a comforting memory of home, because the only tree Marco had any intentions of cutting apart was a bald six-and-a-half-foot high school senior. Wyatt opened his left eye and immediately wished he'd opened both because he really could have used the depth perception for something like a chainsaw blade swinging at him. With no time to back up, he did the first thing that came to mind and brought the .45 up. What this little dipshit probably didn't realize was chainsaws had an interesting 'kick' to them when they hit something they didn't like. They made for awful weapons in the grand scheme of things; horribly balanced, reliant on fuel, attracts hordes of zombies with the noi-... well. That one didn't really apply. But the fact of the matter was that they were designed for chewing through wood, and Wyatt had gotten to witness what happened first-hand when a chainsaw struck something irregular, such as a piton stuck into a tree, the kind a hunter would use to support an old deer stand. Dad's leg looked tore up as hell even after they got it stitched up.
That kick yanked Wyatt's gun out of his hand, probably in no small part because he'd been too afraid to lose one or more fingers if he'd kept a good grip on it. Now gun-less, he had two options. Try to get out of range of that thing, or take a more aggressive approach and get it out of Marco's hands before it could do any damage. There were really three options, but option three was 'take it to the face like a chump and die'.
Wyatt would be going with option B. In one of the most pants-shitting moments of his life, hopefully not literally, he moved toward Marco's arms to get under that reckless overhand swing and caught the chainsaw by one of the parts that wasn't screaming, ripping death. With the chainsaw's blade inches from his face, neck, shoulder and other such deliciously vital areas, Wyatt's first focus was making sure it didn't touch him. Over the roar, Marco was screaming some ridiculous boast.
God, he decided he really, REALLY did not like this kid.
Clenching his jaws through tightly pursed lips, Wyatt pushed the chainsaw up, using his height to his advantage by straightening back up and forcing Marco into an awkward position with his hands over his head. A jerk to the side, and the still-running chainsaw tumbled to the ground with an awkward bounce and rolling along its side. That left the two boys unarmed and on an even playing field. But while the playing field might have been even, Wyatt was in a weight class all his own, and he intended to take advantage of it. Since he had Marco's wrists anyway, he yanked the boy's arms open wide like they were making the first letter of 'YMCA'. This left the boy's head exposed for Wyatt to step in and drop his forehead, letting their skulls crack together. A right hand came after that, thrown with all the pent-up frustration as its main fuel and adrenaline from the brush with death as its afterfire.
But now wasn't the time for a comforting memory of home, because the only tree Marco had any intentions of cutting apart was a bald six-and-a-half-foot high school senior. Wyatt opened his left eye and immediately wished he'd opened both because he really could have used the depth perception for something like a chainsaw blade swinging at him. With no time to back up, he did the first thing that came to mind and brought the .45 up. What this little dipshit probably didn't realize was chainsaws had an interesting 'kick' to them when they hit something they didn't like. They made for awful weapons in the grand scheme of things; horribly balanced, reliant on fuel, attracts hordes of zombies with the noi-... well. That one didn't really apply. But the fact of the matter was that they were designed for chewing through wood, and Wyatt had gotten to witness what happened first-hand when a chainsaw struck something irregular, such as a piton stuck into a tree, the kind a hunter would use to support an old deer stand. Dad's leg looked tore up as hell even after they got it stitched up.
That kick yanked Wyatt's gun out of his hand, probably in no small part because he'd been too afraid to lose one or more fingers if he'd kept a good grip on it. Now gun-less, he had two options. Try to get out of range of that thing, or take a more aggressive approach and get it out of Marco's hands before it could do any damage. There were really three options, but option three was 'take it to the face like a chump and die'.
Wyatt would be going with option B. In one of the most pants-shitting moments of his life, hopefully not literally, he moved toward Marco's arms to get under that reckless overhand swing and caught the chainsaw by one of the parts that wasn't screaming, ripping death. With the chainsaw's blade inches from his face, neck, shoulder and other such deliciously vital areas, Wyatt's first focus was making sure it didn't touch him. Over the roar, Marco was screaming some ridiculous boast.
God, he decided he really, REALLY did not like this kid.
Clenching his jaws through tightly pursed lips, Wyatt pushed the chainsaw up, using his height to his advantage by straightening back up and forcing Marco into an awkward position with his hands over his head. A jerk to the side, and the still-running chainsaw tumbled to the ground with an awkward bounce and rolling along its side. That left the two boys unarmed and on an even playing field. But while the playing field might have been even, Wyatt was in a weight class all his own, and he intended to take advantage of it. Since he had Marco's wrists anyway, he yanked the boy's arms open wide like they were making the first letter of 'YMCA'. This left the boy's head exposed for Wyatt to step in and drop his forehead, letting their skulls crack together. A right hand came after that, thrown with all the pent-up frustration as its main fuel and adrenaline from the brush with death as its afterfire.