((Stan Astley continued from Catching Breath in Stale Air))
Stan now was standing in a locker room. The air breathed horribly in here, but now after having looked around the area he had found gloves, he instantly put on.
He now had gloves on his hands. There was no more being afraid of touching anything dirty. Now his punches also wouldn't dirty his hands. Perfect.
Stan was disgusted with Mexico.
After being tired of moving around he sat on a conveyor belt to wait for his enemies to come.
One Man Army
Phase 1 (0-12 Hours), Open
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
One Man Army
I'm so glad to be back !
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1256
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:15 pm
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And here he was.
Walking. Pacing down the village place. Keeping his head up, looking around, just in case someone wanted to try and get the jump on him. He'd woken up a little while ago, found himself on the ground in the great outdoors, bag near one arm, sledgehammer near the other, wood and dirt surrounding him no matter where he looked. He'd stood up, looked around, and set himself off, heading down the path he was heading down now. He wasn't quite sure what the point of doing this was, if he could be honest. Yeah, he knew he was trying to explore and yeah, he supposed he knew he was gonna have to find a place to hunker down at, but after that? He had nothing. Zip. Nada. No plans in sight other than one for here and now. No real idea as to what he was gonna do to live through this game.
No real hope that he was gonna make it far through this thing.
Because, like, yeah, a man could dream. He could hope, figure that there was at least some chance that he would be the one still standing at the end, but he supposed there wasn't really a ton to it. The odds weren't in his favour. Yeah, he could run and yeah, he could probably talk, but otherwise, he had nothing. No real chance of being the one who won this game.
At least, not if he didn't fight.
He supposed he could do that.
Like, maybe not 'attacking innocents, pillaging villages' sorta stuff - like, dude, he wasn't a fucking sociopath - but if the shot wasn't his? If there was some other dude with a hammer and threatening to put it down over Buddy's head? Then yeah. Probably okay to put it down over his head first.
Well.
Maybe.
The thought was a work in progress. Right now, he wanted to find a place to hunker down, and he was pretty sure he found it. Right in front of him.
Sorta stank, even standing from here, but he could freshen the place up later if he needed to. He walked in. Saw the main hall.
Saw a door on the other side, not even bothering to look around as he started to head towards it.
Walking. Pacing down the village place. Keeping his head up, looking around, just in case someone wanted to try and get the jump on him. He'd woken up a little while ago, found himself on the ground in the great outdoors, bag near one arm, sledgehammer near the other, wood and dirt surrounding him no matter where he looked. He'd stood up, looked around, and set himself off, heading down the path he was heading down now. He wasn't quite sure what the point of doing this was, if he could be honest. Yeah, he knew he was trying to explore and yeah, he supposed he knew he was gonna have to find a place to hunker down at, but after that? He had nothing. Zip. Nada. No plans in sight other than one for here and now. No real idea as to what he was gonna do to live through this game.
No real hope that he was gonna make it far through this thing.
Because, like, yeah, a man could dream. He could hope, figure that there was at least some chance that he would be the one still standing at the end, but he supposed there wasn't really a ton to it. The odds weren't in his favour. Yeah, he could run and yeah, he could probably talk, but otherwise, he had nothing. No real chance of being the one who won this game.
At least, not if he didn't fight.
He supposed he could do that.
Like, maybe not 'attacking innocents, pillaging villages' sorta stuff - like, dude, he wasn't a fucking sociopath - but if the shot wasn't his? If there was some other dude with a hammer and threatening to put it down over Buddy's head? Then yeah. Probably okay to put it down over his head first.
Well.
Maybe.
The thought was a work in progress. Right now, he wanted to find a place to hunker down, and he was pretty sure he found it. Right in front of him.
Sorta stank, even standing from here, but he could freshen the place up later if he needed to. He walked in. Saw the main hall.
Saw a door on the other side, not even bothering to look around as he started to head towards it.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
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Stan sat on the belt for a couple of moments and considered singing a duet with the corpse at the door, but instead someone arrived.
"Buddy!"
It was Buddy!
With his gloves on, pretending to be a boxer, he raised both of his fists and dropped from the belt to take some steps forward to Buddy.
"Buddy!"
It was Buddy!
With his gloves on, pretending to be a boxer, he raised both of his fists and dropped from the belt to take some steps forward to Buddy.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Wham Yubeesling
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- Contact:
A voice.
Calling.
Buddy turned his head in a snap as he looked, a brief feeling freezing his arms and chest as if there was some sort of bump in the night. As if there was like, some dude who you didn't see while you were walking through some weird fish place calling out your name and reminding you that 'hey, maybe you should have kept your guard up, you fucking boofhead. If that was someone, like...'
'…'
'Like someone who's super bad and evil and stuff, they woulda shot you without a second thought. You'd be dead just like that.'
And that was… right. He had to be careful from now on. Maybe he could avoid going full paranoid psycho murder dude, but it wouldn't hurt to treat this whole thing with a little caution. Do what he could do to make sure he lived another day.
Yeah.
Thought was still a work in progress, but he could do that.
Didn't have to do it right now, though. Odds were he was a little safe with Stan. Stan the Man. Stan… not really the Man but hey, the nickname was still a little fun to say in his head. The two of them had hung out a couple times - mostly when he decided he didn't want to be a super loner and elected to hang out with people. He was… mostly okay. Buddy wasn't big on the racism, sometimes the fact that he loved this great big country more than Buddy did got a little bit uncomfortable, but hey, other than that he was decent conversation. Maybe not the best choice for the first person Buddy met in this death game, but hey, decent choice all the same.
"Hey."
He turned the rest of his body along. Took the opportunity to take a step back, make sure he was out of the way of the door.
"You doin' alright?"
Calling.
Buddy turned his head in a snap as he looked, a brief feeling freezing his arms and chest as if there was some sort of bump in the night. As if there was like, some dude who you didn't see while you were walking through some weird fish place calling out your name and reminding you that 'hey, maybe you should have kept your guard up, you fucking boofhead. If that was someone, like...'
'…'
'Like someone who's super bad and evil and stuff, they woulda shot you without a second thought. You'd be dead just like that.'
And that was… right. He had to be careful from now on. Maybe he could avoid going full paranoid psycho murder dude, but it wouldn't hurt to treat this whole thing with a little caution. Do what he could do to make sure he lived another day.
Yeah.
Thought was still a work in progress, but he could do that.
Didn't have to do it right now, though. Odds were he was a little safe with Stan. Stan the Man. Stan… not really the Man but hey, the nickname was still a little fun to say in his head. The two of them had hung out a couple times - mostly when he decided he didn't want to be a super loner and elected to hang out with people. He was… mostly okay. Buddy wasn't big on the racism, sometimes the fact that he loved this great big country more than Buddy did got a little bit uncomfortable, but hey, other than that he was decent conversation. Maybe not the best choice for the first person Buddy met in this death game, but hey, decent choice all the same.
"Hey."
He turned the rest of his body along. Took the opportunity to take a step back, make sure he was out of the way of the door.
"You doin' alright?"
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1256
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Silence rang in the room for a little bit. The two just sorta like, stared at each other for a bit. Didn't do anything until Stan started moving. Towards him, weapon in hand.
Which… probably meant that the answer to Buddy's question was a 'no.' Possibly also meant 'hey, somehow I've already fuckin' snapped, I'm now dangerously unstable and I'm probably gonna kill you if you do the wrong thing,' which... didn't really inspire all that much hope for Buddy in getting an actual conversation out. Didn't really give him that great of a chance of getting out of here without a fight against some dude who probably wanted his guts for garters, and, like, even though he said he could fight if he needed to he sorta didn't really want to right now. He could totally use his sledgehammer on Stan, but it was like… he was Stan. Yeah, he was weird. Yeah, some of the things he said were a little uncomfortable, but, like, that didn't really mean that he wanted to bash Stan's head in with a sledgehammer, even if he was acting weird. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Best option was to probably disengage. Get outta here. Don't run the risk of letting this… 'conversation' last for too long.
"Well, uh, I'll take your word for it."
He took a step back. Ran out of the room. Took a look around, made sure Stan wasn't following, and hightailed it. Made sure his steps went fast as he moved away from the cannery.
Supposed he just had to find a good place elsewhere.
((Buddy Underwood, continued elsewhere))
Which… probably meant that the answer to Buddy's question was a 'no.' Possibly also meant 'hey, somehow I've already fuckin' snapped, I'm now dangerously unstable and I'm probably gonna kill you if you do the wrong thing,' which... didn't really inspire all that much hope for Buddy in getting an actual conversation out. Didn't really give him that great of a chance of getting out of here without a fight against some dude who probably wanted his guts for garters, and, like, even though he said he could fight if he needed to he sorta didn't really want to right now. He could totally use his sledgehammer on Stan, but it was like… he was Stan. Yeah, he was weird. Yeah, some of the things he said were a little uncomfortable, but, like, that didn't really mean that he wanted to bash Stan's head in with a sledgehammer, even if he was acting weird. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Best option was to probably disengage. Get outta here. Don't run the risk of letting this… 'conversation' last for too long.
"Well, uh, I'll take your word for it."
He took a step back. Ran out of the room. Took a look around, made sure Stan wasn't following, and hightailed it. Made sure his steps went fast as he moved away from the cannery.
Supposed he just had to find a good place elsewhere.
((Buddy Underwood, continued elsewhere))