((Fisk Bateman continued from I Have to Return Some Videotapes.))
New day, new opportunities.
Something like that. Fisk hadn’t been here since he’d roped his friends along this whole thing. Honestly this room was kind of nostalgic. The excitement of waking up at 2AM before literally everyone else. Looking through the balcony with binoculars and finding out all your close friends were on the cruise ship. Making the masks and shivs while you wait for them to show up after making a mad dash to deliver the notes. At the time, Fisk felt like progress was being made. Something new was starting. The Respects were introduced and they were Pioneers.
Now? Just players. Mostly dead ones at that. Fisk dreamt last night that they made it to the end, that the Respects won. Everything was perfect until each member exploded into dust one by one, forming together into the figure that took them away. Fisk woke up screaming, his voice was still hoarse.
Now he stands here waiting, planning, plotting. His past was destroyed before his very eyes, but his future wasn’t so uncertain. Today or tomorrow may very well be his last days on this arena. Or this plane of existence. No matter what, it won’t be his last day in the minds of the world; one way or another, The Respects will be remembered. Fisk wanted them to be like a flashbang, burned into the retinas of everyone who witnessed it. He wanted it to hurt.
Fisk sat in the Captain’s chair, resting his feet on console table, watching the sunny sky through the window. He played with Junji’s knife, slicing his thumb with the blade. It was sharp, and at least it had a real handle, so Fisk didn’t slice his palms open every time he stabbed somebody. It gave him more control. Fisk sucked the blood off his thumb. Shifting his weight he felt Junji’s pistol tucked into his coat pocket.
Looking Like Meat
Content warning; torture, no fucking seriously.
Looking Like Meat
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Wham Yubeesling
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Verity hadn’t dreamt last night.
((continued from…))
Hadn’t dreamt anything she’d remembered, anyway. She knew that there would’ve been images and sounds rushing through her mind during the period where her brain was incapable of writing any of it down, but even then, it wasn’t really like those quite counted. When Verity had dreamt, long before any of this, it was like… a sort of premonition of what was to come. Her mind would show her things minutes before she’d be wrested out of sleep, and as she woke up and looked around and realized that the new day had started, she’d… think about what she just saw. Realize that none of what she’d seen was real. Come to reckon what it meant for the day ahead, however literally or metaphorically.
So the fact that there’d been… nothing she could see right before, one way or another, her story would end… that meant something. She didn’t know what.
Fisk had dreamt something, though. She’d been on watch, checking the corridors right when he woke up screaming. She’d ran, looked into the room to make sure nobody had snuck past, but didn’t step in further than that. Fisk was Fisk. What he was dealing with was… stuff entirely foreign to Verity. Stuff she wasn’t equipped to deal with. Maybe when there was a better moment than this, she’d ask, but…
But now didn’t feel right. It was a moment of quiet, but… not the right moment of quiet. Maybe after all this. If there was an after.
Right now, Verity was by the door to the showers. Checking inside. The place seemed… trashed, compared to the last time she’d been here, but the shower seemed like it’d still work. Maybe… maybe once they’d established this place was safe, that nobody would come, she’d take ten minutes to close her eyes inside and pretend it was just like home, but…
But for now, she kept both hands on Timothy’s gun. Looked through the general area. Her job was just to establish the place as safe. To determine whether staying here for the time being was a good idea.
To try and not think about the inevitable end of this game, and how her lack of a dream would fit her into that.
((continued from…))
Hadn’t dreamt anything she’d remembered, anyway. She knew that there would’ve been images and sounds rushing through her mind during the period where her brain was incapable of writing any of it down, but even then, it wasn’t really like those quite counted. When Verity had dreamt, long before any of this, it was like… a sort of premonition of what was to come. Her mind would show her things minutes before she’d be wrested out of sleep, and as she woke up and looked around and realized that the new day had started, she’d… think about what she just saw. Realize that none of what she’d seen was real. Come to reckon what it meant for the day ahead, however literally or metaphorically.
So the fact that there’d been… nothing she could see right before, one way or another, her story would end… that meant something. She didn’t know what.
Fisk had dreamt something, though. She’d been on watch, checking the corridors right when he woke up screaming. She’d ran, looked into the room to make sure nobody had snuck past, but didn’t step in further than that. Fisk was Fisk. What he was dealing with was… stuff entirely foreign to Verity. Stuff she wasn’t equipped to deal with. Maybe when there was a better moment than this, she’d ask, but…
But now didn’t feel right. It was a moment of quiet, but… not the right moment of quiet. Maybe after all this. If there was an after.
Right now, Verity was by the door to the showers. Checking inside. The place seemed… trashed, compared to the last time she’d been here, but the shower seemed like it’d still work. Maybe… maybe once they’d established this place was safe, that nobody would come, she’d take ten minutes to close her eyes inside and pretend it was just like home, but…
But for now, she kept both hands on Timothy’s gun. Looked through the general area. Her job was just to establish the place as safe. To determine whether staying here for the time being was a good idea.
To try and not think about the inevitable end of this game, and how her lack of a dream would fit her into that.
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Applesintime
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((Gregory Miller continued from Float Like a Bee, Sting Like a Butterfly))
Gregory hadn't slept well. Part of that was like, the whole 'being stuck on a cruise ship where everyone might kill you' thing. And he was also, like, nervous about finding Fisk and Verity again. Because oh, it could go really wrong and then he'd be dead on the floor bleeding from everywhere. They had killed another guy last night, the fat guy who smelt like shit. He had killed a bunch of people, so in a way it was karma, but Gregory still didn't wanna see anyone else dead from Fisk, Verity, Ivan's bullshit. So now he just had to find them, which was gonna be pretty difficult.
His search had brought him back here, to where he and Leah had fought each other. Now Leah was dead, and her killer was free. Gregory didn't really care that See-yun had got out; he didn't really know who she was, but she must have like, really wanted to get out if she had killed ten people. He hoped she would like, be a good winner at the least. Sammy could like, point out to his friends at the farmer's market, that his little Gregory went to school with the winner, and they'd probably find that cool, but if she ended up dying or something then that'd suck.
Pushing open the door to the cabin, Gregory's nose wrinkled at the smell of death, and then unwrinkled as he caught sight of Fisk and Verity. Huh. Funny how it all worked out, like, with Fisk and Verity here, where he fought Leah and now he'd fight them too.
"There you guys are. I've been, uh, I've been looking for you everywhere." He was pretty sure his voice betrayed his nerves. Soon it wouldn't matter.
Gregory hadn't slept well. Part of that was like, the whole 'being stuck on a cruise ship where everyone might kill you' thing. And he was also, like, nervous about finding Fisk and Verity again. Because oh, it could go really wrong and then he'd be dead on the floor bleeding from everywhere. They had killed another guy last night, the fat guy who smelt like shit. He had killed a bunch of people, so in a way it was karma, but Gregory still didn't wanna see anyone else dead from Fisk, Verity, Ivan's bullshit. So now he just had to find them, which was gonna be pretty difficult.
His search had brought him back here, to where he and Leah had fought each other. Now Leah was dead, and her killer was free. Gregory didn't really care that See-yun had got out; he didn't really know who she was, but she must have like, really wanted to get out if she had killed ten people. He hoped she would like, be a good winner at the least. Sammy could like, point out to his friends at the farmer's market, that his little Gregory went to school with the winner, and they'd probably find that cool, but if she ended up dying or something then that'd suck.
Pushing open the door to the cabin, Gregory's nose wrinkled at the smell of death, and then unwrinkled as he caught sight of Fisk and Verity. Huh. Funny how it all worked out, like, with Fisk and Verity here, where he fought Leah and now he'd fight them too.
"There you guys are. I've been, uh, I've been looking for you everywhere." He was pretty sure his voice betrayed his nerves. Soon it wouldn't matter.
There was a subtle gasp from Fisk as he heard a familiar-but-not-Verity-familiar voice call out to them, his head jerking to the noise just a little bit faster than he liked. Once he caught sight of the individual he relaxed, and resumed spinning his knife back and forth through his fingers. “Gregory’s back.” Fisk said casually, to let Verity know so she wasn’t caught off guard as he was. She’d been busy pacing around the room to make sure nobody caught them off guard, so he knew Greg wasn’t in here before they were. That’s fine, better the devil you know and all that.
“You know we figured we spooked you off, rough first impressions and all that. Hey, relax dude you’re good, I get it.” Gregory was obviously spooked about something, which Fisk could understand, but he was in better hands here than on his own. “I was in... kind of a rough patch the last couple days, what with Ivan killing my friends and me being too coked up to sleep and all, but I’m better now. Not well, but I quit cold turkey and I’m... somewhat less jittery and neurotic.” He stuck his arms out in front of him, they had a subtle shake to them. He brought them back and reflexively sniffed at nothing. It was just a couple days, this wouldn’t last outside the arena, he told himself. Producers and mentors would taunt him with coke in the after party though. An addict was a lot less threatening than someone with their head screwed on straight.
“Still a bit irritable though. You wouldn’t worry about that though, I take my anger out on enemies, not friends, and there’s more than enough of those to go around.” He smiled, thinking about snuffing Junji’s life out.
“Say, speaking of enemies, you wouldn’t have happened to find Ivan would you?” Probably not, Gregory was still here. “Maybe caught a glimpse of his whereabouts, maybe seen one of his friends?” Gregory was good at sneaking about, maybe he found something yesterday.
“You know we figured we spooked you off, rough first impressions and all that. Hey, relax dude you’re good, I get it.” Gregory was obviously spooked about something, which Fisk could understand, but he was in better hands here than on his own. “I was in... kind of a rough patch the last couple days, what with Ivan killing my friends and me being too coked up to sleep and all, but I’m better now. Not well, but I quit cold turkey and I’m... somewhat less jittery and neurotic.” He stuck his arms out in front of him, they had a subtle shake to them. He brought them back and reflexively sniffed at nothing. It was just a couple days, this wouldn’t last outside the arena, he told himself. Producers and mentors would taunt him with coke in the after party though. An addict was a lot less threatening than someone with their head screwed on straight.
“Still a bit irritable though. You wouldn’t worry about that though, I take my anger out on enemies, not friends, and there’s more than enough of those to go around.” He smiled, thinking about snuffing Junji’s life out.
“Say, speaking of enemies, you wouldn’t have happened to find Ivan would you?” Probably not, Gregory was still here. “Maybe caught a glimpse of his whereabouts, maybe seen one of his friends?” Gregory was good at sneaking about, maybe he found something yesterday.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Wham Yubeesling
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And there was their prisoner. Willingly walking towards the two of them, full well knowing what exactly was waiting for him. Guess Stockholm Syndrome was a real thing after all.
“Hey,” she said, lowering Timothy's gun, yet not taking her hands off of it. “It’s, um, good to see you again.”
She kept her distance from him and stayed by the door to the bathroom. If Gregory wanted to get at her, then he was going to have to go through Fisk first.
“Hey,” she said, lowering Timothy's gun, yet not taking her hands off of it. “It’s, um, good to see you again.”
She kept her distance from him and stayed by the door to the bathroom. If Gregory wanted to get at her, then he was going to have to go through Fisk first.
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Applesintime
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They seemed relatively happy to see him. They weren't, like killing him on sight so that was a plus, maybe. Maybe Fisk and Verity were just like him. Waiting for him to turn his back so they could sink that big knife Fisk had in his back and murder him while he was on the ground. Putting his hands in his pockets, feeling the knife's handle, Gregory closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. No backing out now. Keeping his eyes on Fisk, Gregory shrugged.
"Yeah, it's just uh, you were going wild, running around the room shouting at nothing and dunking your head in the toilet bowl. I didn't know if you were gonna kill me or what so I just sorta left for a little while until you had calmed down, and then, uh, I, I came back but you guys weren't there and so I just sorta ran around the cruise ship looking for you guys but you weren't anywhere. Did you leave it?" Taking a few more steps towards Fisk, Gregory drew a map up in his head, like one of his Total War games. Fisk in the middle of the room, next to the bed, Gregory approaching him, and then Verity a couple of feet behind Fisk, in the bathroom doorway.
"Uh, no, I didn't see him. Probably too busy going around and, I dunno, talking to his shotgun or something." Gregory chuckled. Even with the sorta sympathy Gregory felt for Ivan, he probably wasn't doing great, what with him being fucked up by Fisk and friends. And watching who was presumably a friend getting their throat cut. He shuddered. He could do this. He had to do this.
"Yeah, it's just uh, you were going wild, running around the room shouting at nothing and dunking your head in the toilet bowl. I didn't know if you were gonna kill me or what so I just sorta left for a little while until you had calmed down, and then, uh, I, I came back but you guys weren't there and so I just sorta ran around the cruise ship looking for you guys but you weren't anywhere. Did you leave it?" Taking a few more steps towards Fisk, Gregory drew a map up in his head, like one of his Total War games. Fisk in the middle of the room, next to the bed, Gregory approaching him, and then Verity a couple of feet behind Fisk, in the bathroom doorway.
"Uh, no, I didn't see him. Probably too busy going around and, I dunno, talking to his shotgun or something." Gregory chuckled. Even with the sorta sympathy Gregory felt for Ivan, he probably wasn't doing great, what with him being fucked up by Fisk and friends. And watching who was presumably a friend getting their throat cut. He shuddered. He could do this. He had to do this.
"Oh..." So those WEREN'T DREAMS. Neat. Gregory saw him nearly OD'ing and just dipped. Fisk wondered how he didn't notice him if he was able to see him all the way in the bathroom. Maybe he memory hole'd it. Who knows. "Well, that's troubling news to hear in more ways than one." If Greg saw them, so did the cameras. Fuckers on the safety boat were having a giggle at his expense then. First thing he's doing when he wins is getting sued for assault. Well, that's the second thing. First thing is beating Shiva with his own prosthetic.
Good news it sounded like Ivan was losing his mind too, without the aid of narcotics. It meant Fisk's terror tactics were getting to him, or he was finally succumbing to brain damage. Either way is a plus. What wasn't was that he had a shotgun still, but he already knew that after James.
"Well, it's good your back regardless. Now we can get to planning a way to finally put this wannabe zombie to rest. I'm thinking a good ambush will do the trick, and whatever sneaky tricks you got up your sleeve helped you the first time, maybe you got some opinions on what to do?" Fisk glanced Gregory up and down. He noticed his hands were in his pockets. Fisk knew Gregory was scared but goddamn, for someone who's killed multiple people you'd think he'd know to lighten up.
"Hey man, relax. You're safe here, unless you know, Ivan was tailing you, but were that the case, we'd all have a bigger issue to deal with. Why don't you have a seat, or a drink?"
Good news it sounded like Ivan was losing his mind too, without the aid of narcotics. It meant Fisk's terror tactics were getting to him, or he was finally succumbing to brain damage. Either way is a plus. What wasn't was that he had a shotgun still, but he already knew that after James.
"Well, it's good your back regardless. Now we can get to planning a way to finally put this wannabe zombie to rest. I'm thinking a good ambush will do the trick, and whatever sneaky tricks you got up your sleeve helped you the first time, maybe you got some opinions on what to do?" Fisk glanced Gregory up and down. He noticed his hands were in his pockets. Fisk knew Gregory was scared but goddamn, for someone who's killed multiple people you'd think he'd know to lighten up.
"Hey man, relax. You're safe here, unless you know, Ivan was tailing you, but were that the case, we'd all have a bigger issue to deal with. Why don't you have a seat, or a drink?"
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Applesintime
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Gregory swallowed the lump in his throat down. He was close to Fisk. Just a few more steps and he could put the knife in his chest. Maybe Verity didn't matter just so much. Fisk was the ringleader guy, and maybe if he died Verity'd just go on and like, shoot herself or something, but that was just Gregory being naïve because man, she was the first person this season to kill another, it wasn't like she was gonna cry at seeing another person die.
"Well, uh, I left my egg timer back in the boat, unless one of you guys picked it up? We could maybe look through the kitchens here and try to find one, but, uh, yeah, we'd, we'll need to be sneaky about it because he has Rhonda's shotgun and it sounds like one of those shotguns outta Doom or something! Like, it just goes 'BOOM' and then you can't hear for like, a minute." Gregory rambled about nothing as he took a few more steps towards his target. He can do this. You can do this, Gregory. Just a knife to the throat, the chest, and he's dead.
Taking a deep breath, Gregory pulled out the knife and lunged to slash at Fisk in one smooth motion.
"Well, uh, I left my egg timer back in the boat, unless one of you guys picked it up? We could maybe look through the kitchens here and try to find one, but, uh, yeah, we'd, we'll need to be sneaky about it because he has Rhonda's shotgun and it sounds like one of those shotguns outta Doom or something! Like, it just goes 'BOOM' and then you can't hear for like, a minute." Gregory rambled about nothing as he took a few more steps towards his target. He can do this. You can do this, Gregory. Just a knife to the throat, the chest, and he's dead.
Taking a deep breath, Gregory pulled out the knife and lunged to slash at Fisk in one smooth motion.
The blade cut the webbing between Fisk's thumb and forefinger as well as his palm as it stopped just inches away from his neck. The only reason he caught it was the focus on Gregory's hands in his pockets. His rambling faded away into white noise. The moment he pulled out the knife, he knew.
From a first glance, it looked like Fisk was grinning, but those who'd seen him work by now know it's closer to a chimpanzee bearing it's teeth before ripping some tourist's face off. His other hand, knife still clenched within the fist added support to Fisk's block. Now here he was, one moment relaxed, the next fighting for his life once again. Like the other times, people attempting to kill him made him offended. Unlike the other times, Fisk was fucking furious in a way that can't be described. Despite that, he found the energy to laugh.
Fisk had played nice with someone he really didn't know. The first time in this game he's given someone the benefit of the doubt, the first time he's made the active choice to not end them right there for the crime of breathing longer than his friends were, and Gregory didn't fucking appreciate that. No, he BETRAYED Fisk's trust. It's one thing to attempt to take his life, but to betray him? No no no no no, this will not do.
Fisk sank into the couch as Greg pushed on the knife. This was not a good position to be fighting for your life in. If he gave any slack, the blade would enter his throat. It would be over. Fisk raised his leg from the console to kick at Gregory's head.
From a first glance, it looked like Fisk was grinning, but those who'd seen him work by now know it's closer to a chimpanzee bearing it's teeth before ripping some tourist's face off. His other hand, knife still clenched within the fist added support to Fisk's block. Now here he was, one moment relaxed, the next fighting for his life once again. Like the other times, people attempting to kill him made him offended. Unlike the other times, Fisk was fucking furious in a way that can't be described. Despite that, he found the energy to laugh.
Fisk had played nice with someone he really didn't know. The first time in this game he's given someone the benefit of the doubt, the first time he's made the active choice to not end them right there for the crime of breathing longer than his friends were, and Gregory didn't fucking appreciate that. No, he BETRAYED Fisk's trust. It's one thing to attempt to take his life, but to betray him? No no no no no, this will not do.
Fisk sank into the couch as Greg pushed on the knife. This was not a good position to be fighting for your life in. If he gave any slack, the blade would enter his throat. It would be over. Fisk raised his leg from the console to kick at Gregory's head.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Wham Yubeesling
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And as the two of them struggled for power, Verity moved. Covered the space between the bathroom and the bed in the space of two seconds. She raised the gun again, aimed at the arm holding Gregory’s knife, and hoped that Fisk wouldn’t get in the way as she let rip.
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Applesintime
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Oh, come on! The second Gregory lunged at him, Fisk caught the knife like he was goddamn Neo in the Matrix, the blade a few inches from his throat. He was laughing, as if this was some sick joke to him, something to laugh about, his own imminent death. But he was in a bad position, and Gregory had the advantage. Fisk was what Sammy would have called a 'weak city liberal', the kind of person who hasn't done a bit of hard work in his life, and Gregory had done a lot of hard work in his life. Straining, he pushed the knife harder, closer, closer to Fisk's throat-
Fisk kicked him in the head, and Gregory could have normally taken that without much, like, pain, but then there was a loud noise and a searing hot pain ripped through his arm and then another a little bit above the first pain and he let out a yell, the knife clattering to the ground. Verity had a fucking gun. How had he forgotten that? This had gone terribly. With his good arm, Gregory grabbed the bolas, threw it at where he thought Verity was, and started to run.
((Gregory Miller continued in Get The Fuck Out))
Fisk kicked him in the head, and Gregory could have normally taken that without much, like, pain, but then there was a loud noise and a searing hot pain ripped through his arm and then another a little bit above the first pain and he let out a yell, the knife clattering to the ground. Verity had a fucking gun. How had he forgotten that? This had gone terribly. With his good arm, Gregory grabbed the bolas, threw it at where he thought Verity was, and started to run.
((Gregory Miller continued in Get The Fuck Out))
Fisk pulled himself back from the couch as Gregory retreated. He took a look at his hand. There was a slash going across the entire inside of his hand, it looked like two flaps of skin separated and... This was probably the most grisly injury he's sustained the entire game. He hissed in pain, changing between groans of pain and strained laughter. He shook his hand out, closing and opening it. He glanced over at Verity.
"That fucking weasel, that little fucking weasel! We're gonna, I'm gonna, GAH! FUCK!" Fisk reached through his pack, finding his medkit. Some gauze and alcohol will do for now, but once he got finished with Greg, he'd have to stitch this shit up. Haphazardly wrapping his hand, he paced around the room. "One thing to try to kill me, but to fucking betray us?! STUPID LITTLE SHIT." He knelt over his hand, hissing in pain after punching the captain's console.
"Give an inch, they take a fucking mile... I'll show that little shit what I'll take... Yeah. I'm gonna take a lot from him..." Fisk shook his head. He looked at Verity, before pocketing the knife Greg had dropped, along with Fisk's own. "When we find him, aim low for the legs. I'm taking my time with him. Good for nothing little traitor shit's gonna be good for something when I'm done with him."
He stumbled out of the room into a jog. Fisk was going to make a message out of the little shit.
(( Fisk Bateman continued elsewhere.))
"That fucking weasel, that little fucking weasel! We're gonna, I'm gonna, GAH! FUCK!" Fisk reached through his pack, finding his medkit. Some gauze and alcohol will do for now, but once he got finished with Greg, he'd have to stitch this shit up. Haphazardly wrapping his hand, he paced around the room. "One thing to try to kill me, but to fucking betray us?! STUPID LITTLE SHIT." He knelt over his hand, hissing in pain after punching the captain's console.
"Give an inch, they take a fucking mile... I'll show that little shit what I'll take... Yeah. I'm gonna take a lot from him..." Fisk shook his head. He looked at Verity, before pocketing the knife Greg had dropped, along with Fisk's own. "When we find him, aim low for the legs. I'm taking my time with him. Good for nothing little traitor shit's gonna be good for something when I'm done with him."
He stumbled out of the room into a jog. Fisk was going to make a message out of the little shit.
(( Fisk Bateman continued elsewhere.))
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Wham Yubeesling
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The first relief, after the familiar sound and thunder faded, was the sight of the bullets only hitting Gregory. Her risk had paid off. She would not, in fact, accidentally murder her one remaining link in an attempt to once again save his life.
The second relief, after the bolas bonked her face and knocked her onto the floor, was the sound of footsteps rushing out of the room. There wasn’t going to be a fight. Not immediately, anyway. She could take her time getting up. She could focus on collecting all the weapons on the floor, tune out having to make sense of what Fisk was saying. Like… wasn’t he their prisoner? Weren’t they going to do something to him if he’d stayed and Fisk hadn’t gone crazy? Like, she’d left the room and had gone to talk to Matias because she was sure Fisk was going to do something she didn’t want to watch with Greg gone, but… no? He was actually supposed to be an ally? He’d tried to dupe them and they’d tried to shoot them and then they were actually supposed to make up their differences and come together?
Didn’t really make sense.
What did make sense was the following order. Go after him, find him, make him pay. Aim for the legs, let Fisk catch up, make him suffer.
Verity thought about that, for a second, on the ground.
Took a breath.
Yeah.
She could do that.
“Okay,” she said, getting on her feet, throwing the bolas aside from now, and moving to follow Fisk.
((Verity Stewart, continued in Get The Fuck Out))
The second relief, after the bolas bonked her face and knocked her onto the floor, was the sound of footsteps rushing out of the room. There wasn’t going to be a fight. Not immediately, anyway. She could take her time getting up. She could focus on collecting all the weapons on the floor, tune out having to make sense of what Fisk was saying. Like… wasn’t he their prisoner? Weren’t they going to do something to him if he’d stayed and Fisk hadn’t gone crazy? Like, she’d left the room and had gone to talk to Matias because she was sure Fisk was going to do something she didn’t want to watch with Greg gone, but… no? He was actually supposed to be an ally? He’d tried to dupe them and they’d tried to shoot them and then they were actually supposed to make up their differences and come together?
Didn’t really make sense.
What did make sense was the following order. Go after him, find him, make him pay. Aim for the legs, let Fisk catch up, make him suffer.
Verity thought about that, for a second, on the ground.
Took a breath.
Yeah.
She could do that.
“Okay,” she said, getting on her feet, throwing the bolas aside from now, and moving to follow Fisk.
((Verity Stewart, continued in Get The Fuck Out))
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Applesintime
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((Gregory continued from Somebody Smell Like Fear))
As soon as Gregory made it in, he collapsed against the bed, hand pressed against where he had been shot, the other reaching for his bolas, only to remember that he had thrown it at Verity. A choked sob escaped his throat. This was it. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't going to see Sammy or Dad or see his bees again. His hand clenched upon something. A metal cylinder. Pulling it out, Gregory looked at the can of beans he had pulled out of his bag. It wasn't a very good weapon, but it was the only one he like, could do anything with unless he threw his costume at Fisk or something.
"F... Fuck you Fisk!" They knew he was here, it didn't matter if he shouted. Maybe someone would come and find him. Maybe someone would help him, maybe they'd kill Fisk and Verity and make him better, but he was bleeding too much, he was going to die either way. He couldn't kill Fisk, he couldn't let Stokes down, he hadn't been able to do anything right.
As soon as Gregory made it in, he collapsed against the bed, hand pressed against where he had been shot, the other reaching for his bolas, only to remember that he had thrown it at Verity. A choked sob escaped his throat. This was it. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't going to see Sammy or Dad or see his bees again. His hand clenched upon something. A metal cylinder. Pulling it out, Gregory looked at the can of beans he had pulled out of his bag. It wasn't a very good weapon, but it was the only one he like, could do anything with unless he threw his costume at Fisk or something.
"F... Fuck you Fisk!" They knew he was here, it didn't matter if he shouted. Maybe someone would come and find him. Maybe someone would help him, maybe they'd kill Fisk and Verity and make him better, but he was bleeding too much, he was going to die either way. He couldn't kill Fisk, he couldn't let Stokes down, he hadn't been able to do anything right.
Clank.
Clank.
Clank.
“That all you got to say?” Fisk stepped his way into the room, and leaned against the doorway to take a breather. “If it’s any consolation, you gave us a good run around the ship. Haven’t ran this far since Cassini... Unfortunately for you, there’s nobody here to kill you before I do.”
He pushed off the door stepping closer to Gregory. “Gotta say though, you got me pretty good with that knife, suppose it’s what I get for letting my guard down.” Fisk pointed to his bandaged hand.
“You know, you could’ve made it to the end, got a chance to die with some dignity. Played your cards right, you might’ve won if we got passed Ivan. But you played stupid.” Fisk pointed to his own head, twirling his finger. Fisk laughed.
“What was going on in that little bee brain of yours, huh?” Fisk pointed at Greg’s collar. “Did your wrangler set you up for this?”
Clank.
Clank.
“That all you got to say?” Fisk stepped his way into the room, and leaned against the doorway to take a breather. “If it’s any consolation, you gave us a good run around the ship. Haven’t ran this far since Cassini... Unfortunately for you, there’s nobody here to kill you before I do.”
He pushed off the door stepping closer to Gregory. “Gotta say though, you got me pretty good with that knife, suppose it’s what I get for letting my guard down.” Fisk pointed to his bandaged hand.
“You know, you could’ve made it to the end, got a chance to die with some dignity. Played your cards right, you might’ve won if we got passed Ivan. But you played stupid.” Fisk pointed to his own head, twirling his finger. Fisk laughed.
“What was going on in that little bee brain of yours, huh?” Fisk pointed at Greg’s collar. “Did your wrangler set you up for this?”
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.