((Darius Van Dyke continued from Something tells me this isn't Arizona anymore))
Welcome to hell, Darius, welcome to hell. Darius slowed down from his sprint as he reached the helipad. It was a less creepy area, but it still seemed extremely dangerous with the helicopter that appeared to be falling off the roof. A roof. Good. He had an overview, couldn't be surprised.
Darius breathed heavily. He was out of breath. It did not help that he just ran away from no one. Bad move.
But at least he had now more time think more rational. To recall everything properly. It was still hectic to him, but he felt calmer than when he woke up. He now could think about the obscure situation he is in. The terrorists. The game. The introduction. When Darius saw a gasmask, he held his breath. It did not help, he could not outwit the gasmask men, he still was knocked unconscious. And he wished he had remained so. This reality is worse. Darius can't recall what he dreamt about while he was unconscious. Maybe it was a good dream, maybe it was a nightmare. Fact is, either way it would have been better than this reality. He wishes that this is just a nightmare. But he could feel the reality. It felt like an helipad of a video game he played, but he could feel the realness of the current situation. His shoes, his hair. He wore his clothes. Darius was Darius.
Yet, the situation seemed very surreal. Everything was so familiar and unfamiliar at once. The new locations he had not seen. That bag...oh, he should open the bag.
Crap, crap and crap, first aid crap, guide crap. His personal bag that contained absolutely nothing important anymore, with his electronic devices removed. Good, food. Water, excellent. A chisel. A piece of paper that confirmed that Darius had a chisel. A fucking chisel as a weapon. Chisel.
With a chisel in his hand, he went further around the area. He was not alone, probably. As he previously shortly glanced at the crap map he had in his bag, he could see that the island was rather small. People would be all over the place, and the likelihood of someone else being here earlier, was high. Darius did not know how long he sprinted, but he was not athlete.
The surreality is real. Such a bizarre situation. If he wore red shoes instead of his blue-white sneakers, he'd have clapped his heels and repeated 'there's no place like home' over and over and then he'd be back at his home, waking up on his comfortable bed. He'd be able to chill at home, continue playing his games he still has to finish. Indeed, there was no place like home. This was not home. This is hell. And hell won't become his home. No.
It was so surreal with the location he couldn't recall and the faces he recalled, this could be a dream, right? Wait, faces he recalled. Was that...?
96+ Quite Bitter Beings
Tagging Kami!
96+ Quite Bitter Beings
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Junko Kurosawa knew fear all too well.
She'd long been acquainted with the feeling that comes right when you're on the track in a crouch start, waiting for that whistle. Those brief seconds at the skate park, when you're up in the air? That was even more familiar to her. Learning how to vault over an obstacle the right way? She was getting used to that feeling. She'd even felt it a few times while playing video games. Point is, Junko knew what it was like to be scared. However, that fear usually came with a sense of... well, excitement. For most of her life, she had craved that particular form of energy. Whether it was the 400m dash, performing a new trick on her rollerblades, practicing parkour, or even when she first started playing games about haunted animatronics, Junko lived for that. Maybe her brain was wired a little differently. Who knows?
However, even that couldn't prepare her for waking up to what had to been the entire class tied up and panicking. It definitely couldn't have prepared her for seeing what looked like some soldiers with guns. To think that Junko could have just laughed off seeing Graham getting killed in front of her? That was inconceivable.
Yeah, they kidnapped them. "They" as in those terrorists. Why did they attack a school like Cochise, anyways? Who the fuck knows? All Junko knew was that that she woke up bound to a chair, with a shitload of classmates and Graham. Some guy showed up with gun and he shot him. Just like that. Not an ounce of guilt or anything. Junko could remember how her face had contorted once the red splattered everywhere. It wasn't like anything in a movie, where headshots were kind of cool and only slightly gruesome. It was like his head cracked open and exploded, all at once. They played them some movie, about a boy shooting someone, but she wasn't really paying attention. But she got the gist of it all. Survival of the Fittest. Kill or be killed. The next thing she knew, she woke up on some helicopter pad.
To be honest, Junko didn't pay attention to the entire spiel. Instead, her eyes were focused on Graham. Could they die like that? Just shot suddenly? She didn't want to think of it. Instead, her mind was focused on one thought. It was one thought that stayed with her even when they gassed them again.
The gas had worn off surprisingly quickly for her. However, the thought stayed with her. She didn't want to die the same way Graham did. Just helplessly waiting to get shot? That was undignified. Graham was a cool teacher. Junko was normally shit at things like equations, so she didn't expect to be any good at Physics. But he made it easy for her to understand. He was a cool, funny teacher. Yeah, he did frown at her when she goofed off, but what teacher didn't? She only just now realized that she couldn't have had a better Physics teacher.
The thought that had stayed with her was almost like a promise. That kind of death? Her life wasn't supposed to end that way. She wasn't sure what would be a preferable way to die, but one thing was certain, even when her fingers first touched the wooden bat.
She'd never die like that.
How long had it been since she'd woken up? A few hours? She was getting antsy, to be honest. Junko hadn't done a lot since then. She'd looked through the bag, yeah. A quick look-over told her that there was pretty much everything she needed in it. Afterwards, Junko had practiced a bit with the bat. It wasn't hard, swinging a bat in the air. They'd done baseball-type stuff a few times in P.E. She'd been good at it. Though, that was because she was fast, not because she was a good pitcher or hitter.
Right as she finished a swing, someone finally came sprinting. That was Darius Van Dyke. She remembered him. Junko still had the memory of him drunkenly singing Vocaloid songs at her party. That memory was stained into her brain for a lifetime. Junko had stopped, but her hands gripped tighter around the bat. Junko's eyes quickly flicked up and down, figuring him out. She didn't see a weapon, but that didn't mean he didn't have one. Just that she couldn't see it.
"Oh, hey Darius", she said. "You... startled me."
Her voice was friendly. She managed to smile. Yet, one more thought popped into her head. If he fucked with her, she wasn't going down easily. Not a murderer, just someone who was going to go down swinging. That's her.
She'd long been acquainted with the feeling that comes right when you're on the track in a crouch start, waiting for that whistle. Those brief seconds at the skate park, when you're up in the air? That was even more familiar to her. Learning how to vault over an obstacle the right way? She was getting used to that feeling. She'd even felt it a few times while playing video games. Point is, Junko knew what it was like to be scared. However, that fear usually came with a sense of... well, excitement. For most of her life, she had craved that particular form of energy. Whether it was the 400m dash, performing a new trick on her rollerblades, practicing parkour, or even when she first started playing games about haunted animatronics, Junko lived for that. Maybe her brain was wired a little differently. Who knows?
However, even that couldn't prepare her for waking up to what had to been the entire class tied up and panicking. It definitely couldn't have prepared her for seeing what looked like some soldiers with guns. To think that Junko could have just laughed off seeing Graham getting killed in front of her? That was inconceivable.
Yeah, they kidnapped them. "They" as in those terrorists. Why did they attack a school like Cochise, anyways? Who the fuck knows? All Junko knew was that that she woke up bound to a chair, with a shitload of classmates and Graham. Some guy showed up with gun and he shot him. Just like that. Not an ounce of guilt or anything. Junko could remember how her face had contorted once the red splattered everywhere. It wasn't like anything in a movie, where headshots were kind of cool and only slightly gruesome. It was like his head cracked open and exploded, all at once. They played them some movie, about a boy shooting someone, but she wasn't really paying attention. But she got the gist of it all. Survival of the Fittest. Kill or be killed. The next thing she knew, she woke up on some helicopter pad.
To be honest, Junko didn't pay attention to the entire spiel. Instead, her eyes were focused on Graham. Could they die like that? Just shot suddenly? She didn't want to think of it. Instead, her mind was focused on one thought. It was one thought that stayed with her even when they gassed them again.
The gas had worn off surprisingly quickly for her. However, the thought stayed with her. She didn't want to die the same way Graham did. Just helplessly waiting to get shot? That was undignified. Graham was a cool teacher. Junko was normally shit at things like equations, so she didn't expect to be any good at Physics. But he made it easy for her to understand. He was a cool, funny teacher. Yeah, he did frown at her when she goofed off, but what teacher didn't? She only just now realized that she couldn't have had a better Physics teacher.
The thought that had stayed with her was almost like a promise. That kind of death? Her life wasn't supposed to end that way. She wasn't sure what would be a preferable way to die, but one thing was certain, even when her fingers first touched the wooden bat.
She'd never die like that.
How long had it been since she'd woken up? A few hours? She was getting antsy, to be honest. Junko hadn't done a lot since then. She'd looked through the bag, yeah. A quick look-over told her that there was pretty much everything she needed in it. Afterwards, Junko had practiced a bit with the bat. It wasn't hard, swinging a bat in the air. They'd done baseball-type stuff a few times in P.E. She'd been good at it. Though, that was because she was fast, not because she was a good pitcher or hitter.
Right as she finished a swing, someone finally came sprinting. That was Darius Van Dyke. She remembered him. Junko still had the memory of him drunkenly singing Vocaloid songs at her party. That memory was stained into her brain for a lifetime. Junko had stopped, but her hands gripped tighter around the bat. Junko's eyes quickly flicked up and down, figuring him out. She didn't see a weapon, but that didn't mean he didn't have one. Just that she couldn't see it.
"Oh, hey Darius", she said. "You... startled me."
Her voice was friendly. She managed to smile. Yet, one more thought popped into her head. If he fucked with her, she wasn't going down easily. Not a murderer, just someone who was going to go down swinging. That's her.
It was Junko, right in front of him. With a bat, ready to hit him, if she wanted.
Well, he'd be fucked, if she wanted to hit him with it. But when he listened to her voice and words, he could be sure that..nothing. It was not certain that she was friendly, even if her voice seemed so. Even when she worded her words to be friendly and not hostile - if she was hostile, she would have done the same.
"Junko, hey", he said calmly while slowly approaching the japanese girl. His hand holding the chisel and bag were not raised and if Darius' arms were ten times longer, they'd have brushed the floor.
What now? No fucking way that they would start to fight now. That all of the puppets would do as the gamemasters say. Besides, chisel vs. baseball bat? Nevermind that, JUNKO vs. Darius? No way, dude.
"I know...have an idea how to get out of this place. Wanna join me? A group would be useful."
Yeah, that sounded trustworthy. It implied that he would not be a person who would kill others to win. Create a group. Yeah, good rhetorics.
Not only good rhetorics, but a good plan as well. Darius could outwit the gasmask men. He wants to, he could. He was Darius Van Dyke. She was Junko Kurosawa. His class was from Cochise High, which actually is pretty much a shithole and has a high percentage of garbage students, but there were smart people out there on the island. People that could be a good helping hand.
I mean, what are the chances of dumb terrorists with technological gadgets like explosive collars against brains like the ones of Darius Van Dyke? Brains > Brawns.
1. Form a group, 2. get rid of the collars, 3. get the fuck out of the arena 4. come home
Darius was optimistic.
Hahaha, no he fucking wasn't, everyone's going to die. Everybody will die a terrible death in here, no peaceful one you'd get in the real world. No, a fucking terrible one where you get brutally murdered. The terrorists had done this shit for ten years. And while the chance of there being a loophole Darius could find were there, it was unlikely.
However, the first 2 steps seemed like a logical, non-risky thing. If it doesn't end up killing him, it was maybe worth a shot. Yeah, groups are safe, no matter whether they'd escape or not. And collars...collars aren't impossible to break. They had a motherfucking robotics club in Cochise. Science and shit.
He had to study the collars. They are explosive, so shooting them is a no-no. There might be other ways. Cutting them or deactivate them in some way. But studying them will be hard, considering that literally his time is running out. He has a time limit. Darius now imagined his lifespan to be count down just as in Death Note. It can be shortened, if he did the wrong moves. But, his goal will be to extend his deadline.
Well, he'd be fucked, if she wanted to hit him with it. But when he listened to her voice and words, he could be sure that..nothing. It was not certain that she was friendly, even if her voice seemed so. Even when she worded her words to be friendly and not hostile - if she was hostile, she would have done the same.
"Junko, hey", he said calmly while slowly approaching the japanese girl. His hand holding the chisel and bag were not raised and if Darius' arms were ten times longer, they'd have brushed the floor.
What now? No fucking way that they would start to fight now. That all of the puppets would do as the gamemasters say. Besides, chisel vs. baseball bat? Nevermind that, JUNKO vs. Darius? No way, dude.
"I know...have an idea how to get out of this place. Wanna join me? A group would be useful."
Yeah, that sounded trustworthy. It implied that he would not be a person who would kill others to win. Create a group. Yeah, good rhetorics.
Not only good rhetorics, but a good plan as well. Darius could outwit the gasmask men. He wants to, he could. He was Darius Van Dyke. She was Junko Kurosawa. His class was from Cochise High, which actually is pretty much a shithole and has a high percentage of garbage students, but there were smart people out there on the island. People that could be a good helping hand.
I mean, what are the chances of dumb terrorists with technological gadgets like explosive collars against brains like the ones of Darius Van Dyke? Brains > Brawns.
1. Form a group, 2. get rid of the collars, 3. get the fuck out of the arena 4. come home
Darius was optimistic.
Hahaha, no he fucking wasn't, everyone's going to die. Everybody will die a terrible death in here, no peaceful one you'd get in the real world. No, a fucking terrible one where you get brutally murdered. The terrorists had done this shit for ten years. And while the chance of there being a loophole Darius could find were there, it was unlikely.
However, the first 2 steps seemed like a logical, non-risky thing. If it doesn't end up killing him, it was maybe worth a shot. Yeah, groups are safe, no matter whether they'd escape or not. And collars...collars aren't impossible to break. They had a motherfucking robotics club in Cochise. Science and shit.
He had to study the collars. They are explosive, so shooting them is a no-no. There might be other ways. Cutting them or deactivate them in some way. But studying them will be hard, considering that literally his time is running out. He has a time limit. Darius now imagined his lifespan to be count down just as in Death Note. It can be shortened, if he did the wrong moves. But, his goal will be to extend his deadline.
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Junko tilted her head to the side.
An escape? That seemed like a joke. And a particularly cruel one, too. Hahaha. Darius, you're funny. Really. She felt edges of her mouth tighten a bit. Was this really the time to be joking? Well, okay, she'd probably make a joke about all this bullshit too. But escaping? That was low.
Junko's eyes narrowed. Darius was a lot of things. But would escaping be something he'd joke about? He said it like he knew a way off, too. Did he? Was it really that simple?
"Are you joking? Because that's a shitty thing to joke about. Honest."
She looked him over. Well, despite her first impression he was holding something, but she wasn't sure what. He seemed scared, but for all she knew he could be calm enough to crack a joke like that. But the image of Graham was still burned into her memory. How could he think of a joke like that? Who responds with being abducted by the SOTF people by making a joke about escaping? Junko was all for humor, especially when shit has hit the fan, but... escaping. Really.
Maybe he did know something. She was going to wait to see what he said. But just in case, her fingers tightened around the bat.
An escape? That seemed like a joke. And a particularly cruel one, too. Hahaha. Darius, you're funny. Really. She felt edges of her mouth tighten a bit. Was this really the time to be joking? Well, okay, she'd probably make a joke about all this bullshit too. But escaping? That was low.
Junko's eyes narrowed. Darius was a lot of things. But would escaping be something he'd joke about? He said it like he knew a way off, too. Did he? Was it really that simple?
"Are you joking? Because that's a shitty thing to joke about. Honest."
She looked him over. Well, despite her first impression he was holding something, but she wasn't sure what. He seemed scared, but for all she knew he could be calm enough to crack a joke like that. But the image of Graham was still burned into her memory. How could he think of a joke like that? Who responds with being abducted by the SOTF people by making a joke about escaping? Junko was all for humor, especially when shit has hit the fan, but... escaping. Really.
Maybe he did know something. She was going to wait to see what he said. But just in case, her fingers tightened around the bat.
"I am not joking. I am serious. I have a plan. Lemme show you."
Well, he had absolutely no clue how to break the collars. But they were on an island, goddammit. And what has to be done was simple. How do you send out an SOS on an island, where you're stranded? How far away is this island from civilisation or boats? Darius thought ACAB, but The Police indeed had a right idea.
Darius came closer to Junko, put the chisel in the pocket of his coat, takes out Danya's book guide thingy bullshit and rips it. "Exclusive material from the terrorists. Proof that we are here," he told Junko.
"Can I have one of your water bottles, please?"
Well, he had absolutely no clue how to break the collars. But they were on an island, goddammit. And what has to be done was simple. How do you send out an SOS on an island, where you're stranded? How far away is this island from civilisation or boats? Darius thought ACAB, but The Police indeed had a right idea.
Darius came closer to Junko, put the chisel in the pocket of his coat, takes out Danya's book guide thingy bullshit and rips it. "Exclusive material from the terrorists. Proof that we are here," he told Junko.
"Can I have one of your water bottles, please?"
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Apparently it wasn't a joke. Know why? Well, Darius pulled out the instruction manual thing from his pocket. You know, the one where they make jokes about killing people and shit. That one. Junko had read a few snippets of it, only to stop because it was so... weird. Anyways, ripping it up was one way to stick it to the terrorists.
Junko raised an eyebrow, watching the shredded paper fall to the ground like snowflakes. She had only one response to that.
"Well... then."
He'd asked for water, too. Well, Darius did look exhausted and red-faced. He sprinted here too. He was probs thirsty after that. But Junko still wasn't sure if she could trust him. Sure, he seemed to think that this was bullshit too, but for all she knew he could backstab her, even if he knew a way off. But damn it, her better side won out.
With a bit of hesitance, she walked over to her bag sitting on the ground and unzipped it. The bat made a small thud as she dropped it on the floor to place her hands into the bag. Once her fingers touched a plastic cap, she quickly pulled it up. But for a moment, she stared at it.
This was her water. She wasn't sure where they could get more. Was it a good idea to give it to him? Sure, he seemed like he needed it, but still.
She didn't look up.
"Darius... don't you have some of your own?" she asked. But another, more crushing question came out.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
For all she knew, this was a trap of some kind. Again, he tore the manual, but for all she knew he could be pulling a ruse of some kind. What, she wasn't sure.
Junko raised an eyebrow, watching the shredded paper fall to the ground like snowflakes. She had only one response to that.
"Well... then."
He'd asked for water, too. Well, Darius did look exhausted and red-faced. He sprinted here too. He was probs thirsty after that. But Junko still wasn't sure if she could trust him. Sure, he seemed to think that this was bullshit too, but for all she knew he could backstab her, even if he knew a way off. But damn it, her better side won out.
With a bit of hesitance, she walked over to her bag sitting on the ground and unzipped it. The bat made a small thud as she dropped it on the floor to place her hands into the bag. Once her fingers touched a plastic cap, she quickly pulled it up. But for a moment, she stared at it.
This was her water. She wasn't sure where they could get more. Was it a good idea to give it to him? Sure, he seemed like he needed it, but still.
She didn't look up.
"Darius... don't you have some of your own?" she asked. But another, more crushing question came out.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
For all she knew, this was a trap of some kind. Again, he tore the manual, but for all she knew he could be pulling a ruse of some kind. What, she wasn't sure.
"No, I don't have my own anymore. I ran, like, a lot to come here and it was exhausting. I needed to drink."
It was the truth that it took some time to come from the building (it was fucking creepy there), to this one. It was not true that he had no bottles anymore. He started drinking from one, but still had his others full. Darius did not plan to make a fool out of himself, using his own bottles. No, he needed Junko's bottles.
"As for trusting, you can't trust anybody, you're right, you're smart. But you can trust me. Like, what do you think I'm going to do with the bottle? Beat you to death with it?"
Darius giggled. Oh man, he shouldn't laugh at such a situation, but the seriousness of it made it more funnier. He could compensate sadness with laughter. That was alright.
He reached her his hand.
"Also, hurry up. I want us to go home ASAP."
It was the truth that it took some time to come from the building (it was fucking creepy there), to this one. It was not true that he had no bottles anymore. He started drinking from one, but still had his others full. Darius did not plan to make a fool out of himself, using his own bottles. No, he needed Junko's bottles.
"As for trusting, you can't trust anybody, you're right, you're smart. But you can trust me. Like, what do you think I'm going to do with the bottle? Beat you to death with it?"
Darius giggled. Oh man, he shouldn't laugh at such a situation, but the seriousness of it made it more funnier. He could compensate sadness with laughter. That was alright.
He reached her his hand.
"Also, hurry up. I want us to go home ASAP."
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Damn it, Darius.
He just laughed, and said that she was smart in not trusting him. Like, he literally just said she couldn't trust anyone, but she could trust him. Wrap your head around that one. If anyone didn't understand Darius right now, it was Junko. Then again, she might have been the first he talked to. Or the second. No idea. All she knew was that he was making weird jokes. Apparently the "knowing a way out" wasn't a joke, but beating people to death with a water bottle? What.
For a moment, Junko considered not giving the bottle to him. Let him be thirsty, even if he was all red and sweaty. To be fair, it was his normal levels of jerkishness. It wasn't anything that weird, just in a different context. Junko silently cursed her conscience. Again, this could turn out to be some kind of really weird trap. What would be the point of pretending you know a way off and asking for water? Again, no clue. It could be something, though.
She sighed and did a gentle toss in his direction.
"Knock yourself out."
He just laughed, and said that she was smart in not trusting him. Like, he literally just said she couldn't trust anyone, but she could trust him. Wrap your head around that one. If anyone didn't understand Darius right now, it was Junko. Then again, she might have been the first he talked to. Or the second. No idea. All she knew was that he was making weird jokes. Apparently the "knowing a way out" wasn't a joke, but beating people to death with a water bottle? What.
For a moment, Junko considered not giving the bottle to him. Let him be thirsty, even if he was all red and sweaty. To be fair, it was his normal levels of jerkishness. It wasn't anything that weird, just in a different context. Junko silently cursed her conscience. Again, this could turn out to be some kind of really weird trap. What would be the point of pretending you know a way off and asking for water? Again, no clue. It could be something, though.
She sighed and did a gentle toss in his direction.
"Knock yourself out."
Darius caught the bottle and hit it lightly against his head, closing his eyes, pretending to fall, as if he knocked himself out with the bottle
"Auurgh."
Then he recreated his balance and laughed at his fabulous acting. He looked at the water bottle and considered emptying it right away, but he really was thirsty. So he opened it, drank from it, and Jesus, it was refreshing. He did not care about spilling the contents of the water bottle, so his shirt ended up a bit wet. Finally, he emptied the bottle by letting the H2O hit the ground.
He picked up the pieces of paper that were parts of the Danya guide and put them inside the bottle and closing it with the cap.
"Look, Junko. A message in a bottle. We throw it into the ocean, a fisher will find it, will read 'Danya' and will think 'oh shit' and we will get rescued in some days."
Darius had a smug smile.
"Easy peasy."
He knew it wasn't going to work. That was an unrealistic plan. The ocean was big. But at least he showed Junko that his intentions were good and for the good of all and that crap. And he still had his water bottles while Junko had one less, which was also an advantage. He just needed to support his lie by revealing more false information to Junko.
"I already threw my bottles out, on the other side of the island. Now we just have to throw this one in this direction", he pointed at the horizon near to them, "and the chance of someone finding us increases."
"Auurgh."
Then he recreated his balance and laughed at his fabulous acting. He looked at the water bottle and considered emptying it right away, but he really was thirsty. So he opened it, drank from it, and Jesus, it was refreshing. He did not care about spilling the contents of the water bottle, so his shirt ended up a bit wet. Finally, he emptied the bottle by letting the H2O hit the ground.
He picked up the pieces of paper that were parts of the Danya guide and put them inside the bottle and closing it with the cap.
"Look, Junko. A message in a bottle. We throw it into the ocean, a fisher will find it, will read 'Danya' and will think 'oh shit' and we will get rescued in some days."
Darius had a smug smile.
"Easy peasy."
He knew it wasn't going to work. That was an unrealistic plan. The ocean was big. But at least he showed Junko that his intentions were good and for the good of all and that crap. And he still had his water bottles while Junko had one less, which was also an advantage. He just needed to support his lie by revealing more false information to Junko.
"I already threw my bottles out, on the other side of the island. Now we just have to throw this one in this direction", he pointed at the horizon near to them, "and the chance of someone finding us increases."
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What was with Darius?
He took the phrase "knock yourself out" a bit too literally, didn't he? Well, not literally. But he just pantomimed the bottle knocking him out cold. Well, at least that was somewhat normal, she guessed? Okay, Junko smiled, yeah. He was just being weird, but that was better than... anything else, really. It was pretty normal for him, right?
She didn't think she had a reason to be scared of him, though. Hell, her, scared? Yeah, she knew fear, but she wasn't just going to break down crying because Darius was being weird. She wasn't that much of a wuss. She was brave, and strong. Even if Darius tried something, she could take him.
Junko leaned down to pick up her bat again, but the second she did, she heard a sound. Was that someone pouring something out? She looked up, and-
He was wasting her water.
He was wasting her water.
Her heart started racing. It was not fear. Years of athletic practice, of rollerblading, told her one thing. Water was important. She was pretty sure you could last for weeks without food. It'd suck, yeah, but you could last for a while. But water? Water you could last only a few days with. Pretty much every guide, every coach, everyone told you that water was vital. Hell, you didn't need to be an athlete to realize that.
And he just literally tossed it onto the ground.
Junko heard herself seethe. This was part of his plan, too. He'd wasted his own water, with this message-in-a-bottle bullshit. Which meant he had to waste hers, too. Where was she going to get more? She wasn't Bear Grylls or some shit, she didn't have that much knowledge on where to get water. An entire bottle, gone, because Darius was a dumbass.
She stood up. Her limbs shook. Her teeth grinded.
"You... asshole..."
She stomped forward, her bat in hand.
He took the phrase "knock yourself out" a bit too literally, didn't he? Well, not literally. But he just pantomimed the bottle knocking him out cold. Well, at least that was somewhat normal, she guessed? Okay, Junko smiled, yeah. He was just being weird, but that was better than... anything else, really. It was pretty normal for him, right?
She didn't think she had a reason to be scared of him, though. Hell, her, scared? Yeah, she knew fear, but she wasn't just going to break down crying because Darius was being weird. She wasn't that much of a wuss. She was brave, and strong. Even if Darius tried something, she could take him.
Junko leaned down to pick up her bat again, but the second she did, she heard a sound. Was that someone pouring something out? She looked up, and-
He was wasting her water.
He was wasting her water.
Her heart started racing. It was not fear. Years of athletic practice, of rollerblading, told her one thing. Water was important. She was pretty sure you could last for weeks without food. It'd suck, yeah, but you could last for a while. But water? Water you could last only a few days with. Pretty much every guide, every coach, everyone told you that water was vital. Hell, you didn't need to be an athlete to realize that.
And he just literally tossed it onto the ground.
Junko heard herself seethe. This was part of his plan, too. He'd wasted his own water, with this message-in-a-bottle bullshit. Which meant he had to waste hers, too. Where was she going to get more? She wasn't Bear Grylls or some shit, she didn't have that much knowledge on where to get water. An entire bottle, gone, because Darius was a dumbass.
She stood up. Her limbs shook. Her teeth grinded.
"You... asshole..."
She stomped forward, her bat in hand.
Junko looked pissed. He could understand why, but eh. Such is life. Wait, was she charging at him? The bat. Attack him over water? Fucking water? There were hundreds of students here, both with 4 bottles. Junko sucked at math, didn't she?
As Junko came forward, he dropped the br-bottle, watching it fall and roll on the ground, to take out his chisel to defend himself against Junko if she did anything suspicious.
He pointed his assigned weapon at Junko, hoping she might mistake it for a knife or something. Something threatening.
"You're the asshole. Go away."
Where to point it? He was fucked. He couldn't do shit with this chisel. He went steps forward, chisel pointing at her face, hoping Junko to retreat. Hush, hush.
As Junko came forward, he dropped the br-bottle, watching it fall and roll on the ground, to take out his chisel to defend himself against Junko if she did anything suspicious.
He pointed his assigned weapon at Junko, hoping she might mistake it for a knife or something. Something threatening.
"You're the asshole. Go away."
Where to point it? He was fucked. He couldn't do shit with this chisel. He went steps forward, chisel pointing at her face, hoping Junko to retreat. Hush, hush.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler RC. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
((swing approved, just in case))
Darius dropped the bottle, and pulled out something. Something sharp. Even in her rage, Junko noticed how it shined in his hands. He was armed this entire time, too? That fucker. He wasted her things for a stupid reason, and now she, she was the asshole? No, no no no.
Junko didn't listen. Somewhere she heard 'go away', but it didn't stick. Everything just seemed to blend together. She was aware of the thing in his hands, and what he could do with it.
Junko wasn't thinking. The only thoughts that came up at all was that, damn it, that was her water, and he had something sharp in his hands.
She growled.
She continued to stomp forward.
And she swung towards his knees.
Darius dropped the bottle, and pulled out something. Something sharp. Even in her rage, Junko noticed how it shined in his hands. He was armed this entire time, too? That fucker. He wasted her things for a stupid reason, and now she, she was the asshole? No, no no no.
Junko didn't listen. Somewhere she heard 'go away', but it didn't stick. Everything just seemed to blend together. She was aware of the thing in his hands, and what he could do with it.
Junko wasn't thinking. The only thoughts that came up at all was that, damn it, that was her water, and he had something sharp in his hands.
She growled.
She continued to stomp forward.
And she swung towards his knees.
The slighty angered Dr. Kurosawa (sounds more like the title of a badly translated anime) was using a bat as a reflex hammer and must have realised that it fucking hurt.
"Sheesh!"
He hit a high note, losing his balance, letting the pain overcome his body. Darius had never been hit with a bat. He needed his fucking knee to walk, to survive. How the fuck should he escape without walking? Junko, fuck you.
Darius stumbled, gravity almost won, the pain dragging him to the ground, but Darius was not a loser, and kicked at Junko's foot with full force, resulting in both of them falling to the ground, both of them dragging the other down.
Darius wasn't the violent type of guy, but that felt satisfying. Revenge. Strength. Junko fought him. He fought back.
But: Junko fought him. Fuck.
Darius could feel less powerful bat swings hitting him. Ough. Also, fists flying. Against his chest. His beloved chest!
"Jesus Fuck!"
He breathed loudly. The water bottle did nothing, he was still exhausted. It was hard to ignore the pain in the knee, but now his body was reminding him of the hits that were making feeling well harder. As a reaction, he used his chisel to stab Junko's body with it...
It was just a chisel. You don't stab people with chisels. At most, poke them.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Panic rushed through his body. He was done.
He could not use his weapon, he could not use his own force. He had no energy to escape. He was going to be buried in a pile of fists and bats.
Then, an idea came to save Darius' ass from getting murdered by his friend.
Using his chisel, he poked Junko's neck. No, goddammit, he did not want to poke the neck. Poke the collar, fucker. Activate it. Let it go 'boom'. Junko was threatening his life. She was going to murder him. That's enough justification for activating her collar.
He desperately looked at Junko's collar, trying to save himself. He also needed to know how these collars worked, so there's also that.
"Sheesh!"
He hit a high note, losing his balance, letting the pain overcome his body. Darius had never been hit with a bat. He needed his fucking knee to walk, to survive. How the fuck should he escape without walking? Junko, fuck you.
Darius stumbled, gravity almost won, the pain dragging him to the ground, but Darius was not a loser, and kicked at Junko's foot with full force, resulting in both of them falling to the ground, both of them dragging the other down.
Darius wasn't the violent type of guy, but that felt satisfying. Revenge. Strength. Junko fought him. He fought back.
But: Junko fought him. Fuck.
Darius could feel less powerful bat swings hitting him. Ough. Also, fists flying. Against his chest. His beloved chest!
"Jesus Fuck!"
He breathed loudly. The water bottle did nothing, he was still exhausted. It was hard to ignore the pain in the knee, but now his body was reminding him of the hits that were making feeling well harder. As a reaction, he used his chisel to stab Junko's body with it...
It was just a chisel. You don't stab people with chisels. At most, poke them.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Panic rushed through his body. He was done.
He could not use his weapon, he could not use his own force. He had no energy to escape. He was going to be buried in a pile of fists and bats.
Then, an idea came to save Darius' ass from getting murdered by his friend.
Using his chisel, he poked Junko's neck. No, goddammit, he did not want to poke the neck. Poke the collar, fucker. Activate it. Let it go 'boom'. Junko was threatening his life. She was going to murder him. That's enough justification for activating her collar.
He desperately looked at Junko's collar, trying to save himself. He also needed to know how these collars worked, so there's also that.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler RC. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Darius lost his balance. But it didn't stop there. Junko felt Darius' foot slam against hers, and the two fell to the ground. That didn't do wonders for Junko's anger. The bat nearly slipped out of her fingers for a second, but she pulled it into her hands tighter.
The bat went swinging into his chest. Each connected hit was like slow motion. The bat slipped again, and soon fell out of her hands and onto the ground. She barely paid attention, and instead resorted to using her fists. Punch after punch rained down onto Darius.
Somewhere in there, she heard Darius curse. She didn't pay attention to that, either. Her main focus was her fists pounding against him. Her heart raced, like it was in the middle of a sprint. The main things fueling her were rage and adrenaline.
But even then, she noticed the thing Darius was holding was against her. Against her neck. He was going to stab her with it. Slit her throat, something. Without thinking, her hand rose up and reached for his wrist. His arm was moving, and it took some effort. But she grabbed him with a tight grip. She could barely move his arm. She didn't think Darius was that strong, but fuck. Her lips curled into a snarl.
With her free arm, she went for another punch, this time towards the face. She felt something crack, but it got lost in the shuffle. But Darius' grip on the object loosened, and she tore it from his hand. But he still struggled underneath her. His arms swung. His legs kicked. He tried to grab it again.
She did the only thing she could think of, and swiped it across his cheek. A flash of red followed.
The bat went swinging into his chest. Each connected hit was like slow motion. The bat slipped again, and soon fell out of her hands and onto the ground. She barely paid attention, and instead resorted to using her fists. Punch after punch rained down onto Darius.
Somewhere in there, she heard Darius curse. She didn't pay attention to that, either. Her main focus was her fists pounding against him. Her heart raced, like it was in the middle of a sprint. The main things fueling her were rage and adrenaline.
But even then, she noticed the thing Darius was holding was against her. Against her neck. He was going to stab her with it. Slit her throat, something. Without thinking, her hand rose up and reached for his wrist. His arm was moving, and it took some effort. But she grabbed him with a tight grip. She could barely move his arm. She didn't think Darius was that strong, but fuck. Her lips curled into a snarl.
With her free arm, she went for another punch, this time towards the face. She felt something crack, but it got lost in the shuffle. But Darius' grip on the object loosened, and she tore it from his hand. But he still struggled underneath her. His arms swung. His legs kicked. He tried to grab it again.
She did the only thing she could think of, and swiped it across his cheek. A flash of red followed.
Darius smelled liquid iron. Darius smelled pain. He failed activating the collar and was fucked. His weapon was gone.
If Junko could have read his mind, she probably could have responded with a 'your face' joke and it would have been equally true. Your face was gone.
Red liquid coming from the nose, his face also scarred with the cut Junko had caused. His face hurt. He kicked at Junko, punched at her with his bare fists, but he needed to get out of her range. Escape.
Next to him on the ground, the message in a bottle. He quickly reached out to grab it, throw it at Junko's face and used the surprise to stand up, kicked his bag he dropped while fighting in the direction of the exit and ran to get the fuck out.
That was not easy, though. He barely could walk straight, he had everything aching. Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip.
Grabbing his bag on the ground, he began to...run. A sprint, that unlike any sprint he did in PE. He wanted everything to hurt, to ache, just to get the fuck out of here. To let Junko not kill him.
Lung, face, nose, chest, knee. Too much pain to even speak a last word to Junko. It would have probably been an insult. He went down the Helipad.
His hand touched the area between nose and mouth, he could not feel his 'beard', but what surprised him was the amount of red coloured liquid that stuck on his hand now. He needed to aid himself. When he was out of reach of Junko, he began to walk in a slow pace again. He burped, wanting to get rid of all the pain that bitch had caused him.
He walked away. Bye, bye, Junko.
((Darius Van Dyke continued in 凸( ̀_́ )凸))
If Junko could have read his mind, she probably could have responded with a 'your face' joke and it would have been equally true. Your face was gone.
Red liquid coming from the nose, his face also scarred with the cut Junko had caused. His face hurt. He kicked at Junko, punched at her with his bare fists, but he needed to get out of her range. Escape.
Next to him on the ground, the message in a bottle. He quickly reached out to grab it, throw it at Junko's face and used the surprise to stand up, kicked his bag he dropped while fighting in the direction of the exit and ran to get the fuck out.
That was not easy, though. He barely could walk straight, he had everything aching. Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip.
Grabbing his bag on the ground, he began to...run. A sprint, that unlike any sprint he did in PE. He wanted everything to hurt, to ache, just to get the fuck out of here. To let Junko not kill him.
Lung, face, nose, chest, knee. Too much pain to even speak a last word to Junko. It would have probably been an insult. He went down the Helipad.
His hand touched the area between nose and mouth, he could not feel his 'beard', but what surprised him was the amount of red coloured liquid that stuck on his hand now. He needed to aid himself. When he was out of reach of Junko, he began to walk in a slow pace again. He burped, wanting to get rid of all the pain that bitch had caused him.
He walked away. Bye, bye, Junko.
((Darius Van Dyke continued in 凸( ̀_́ )凸))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler RC. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.