Alaska seemed to be taking Sergio's goldfish memory well. Nice. Still got it. The question was, was he going crazy, or was she digging him?
In a place like this? Nah. Couldn't be.
Unless...
"Ha yeah, you said that too."
He felt like he had a headache. When had that started? That was whack like crack. Sergio had just made fun of everyone for being obsessed with sleep just moments before, but maybe it was possible that he needed some sleep.
He couldn't help but yawn. It hurt his throat.
"I wish I could check into a Holiday Inn Express, y'know?"
It'd have bed. Plus he might not be Jared Clayton, but he would have stayed at a Holiday Inn Express. Then he could do anything, right?
Time Out
(Midnight, open)
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Courtography
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Alaska put an index finger to her chin and made a show of thinking.
"Ha, so I did," Alaska she finally with a smirk.
Then she crouched down and started digging through her bag, putting her den making plan into action. She withdrew all the clothes and set them out. As it turned out her assigned costume was a fluffy sexy panda outfit, which...sure she actually could have seen herself wear it at a Halloween party or something. But for her purposes, it was the perfect soft pillow. She loved it when a plan came together.
As she worked she responded to Sergio.
"Yeah, like, I wouldn't even need a big bed, just a bed with a mattress y'know? Somewhere nice and cozy."
Once she was done with her den construction she stepped back and held her arms out.
"Ta-da!"
It was admittedly a mess, she'd laid out the t-shirt, tank top and track pants across the deck of the ship to soften the wood a little, then put the towel down over them to level everything out. The panda costume sat at the head of everything, rolled up as a makeshift pillow.
"What do you think?" She asked, turning to Sergio with a stupid grin across her face.
"Ha, so I did," Alaska she finally with a smirk.
Then she crouched down and started digging through her bag, putting her den making plan into action. She withdrew all the clothes and set them out. As it turned out her assigned costume was a fluffy sexy panda outfit, which...sure she actually could have seen herself wear it at a Halloween party or something. But for her purposes, it was the perfect soft pillow. She loved it when a plan came together.
As she worked she responded to Sergio.
"Yeah, like, I wouldn't even need a big bed, just a bed with a mattress y'know? Somewhere nice and cozy."
Once she was done with her den construction she stepped back and held her arms out.
"Ta-da!"
It was admittedly a mess, she'd laid out the t-shirt, tank top and track pants across the deck of the ship to soften the wood a little, then put the towel down over them to level everything out. The panda costume sat at the head of everything, rolled up as a makeshift pillow.
"What do you think?" She asked, turning to Sergio with a stupid grin across her face.
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So she kept it friendly. Kept it chill. That was good.
"Haha yeah, don't tell anyone, but I'd even settle for the Motel Six."
Alaska's makeshift bed wasn't much, but it was better than just lying on the deck.
She was asking for his opinion. If he knew where the cameras were, he'd look at one for his next line, if he were the kind of guy to care about that.
"Damn, we've got lady MacGyver here folks. Look at this."
Maybe he would follow this idea and make his own clothing mattress.
Not yet though. Sergio had the feeling he still wouldn't get sleep at this point.
"Haha yeah, don't tell anyone, but I'd even settle for the Motel Six."
Alaska's makeshift bed wasn't much, but it was better than just lying on the deck.
She was asking for his opinion. If he knew where the cameras were, he'd look at one for his next line, if he were the kind of guy to care about that.
"Damn, we've got lady MacGyver here folks. Look at this."
Maybe he would follow this idea and make his own clothing mattress.
Not yet though. Sergio had the feeling he still wouldn't get sleep at this point.
Alaska laughed a little at Sergio's joke, enough that he knew she found it funny, not enough that he thought it was good or anything, since it y'know, wasn't.
With all of that being taken into account she was all set to sleep. Her random clothing bed was made, it was dark and Sergio presumably wasn't planning on shanking her while she slept. All of those things combined meant it was prime sleeping, and that was important because she didn't know when she was next to going to get the opportunity to shut her body down for a few hours. It was a system reboot for the squishy meat computer that was her brain.
That left only one question. Was her bed comfy?
__________________________________________________
Nope! No, it wasn't! Not in the slightest actually!
Alaska woke with a groan and a pain in her back.
As it turned out sleeping on a deck with only a layer of clothes and a towel wasn't comfortable at all. It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise Alaska had to admit, but her back really ached.
However, in some good news, Sergio hadn't killed her while she slept. That was a plus. She did enjoy not being dead.
Speaking of not being dead, Alaska hadn't heard anything about Laura, which was good. It meant she was still alive. They would still be able to meet up, all that was required was for them to manage to find each other while possessing no way to communicate. No sweat, they had this. The only other person...well...they were safe.
Alaska stood and stretched out her back, trying to relieve some of the aches she had acquired from sleeping on the floor. At the same time, she scanned over the deck of the ship, eyes searching for Sergio.
"Morning," She said with a small wave. "How'd you sleep?"
With all of that being taken into account she was all set to sleep. Her random clothing bed was made, it was dark and Sergio presumably wasn't planning on shanking her while she slept. All of those things combined meant it was prime sleeping, and that was important because she didn't know when she was next to going to get the opportunity to shut her body down for a few hours. It was a system reboot for the squishy meat computer that was her brain.
That left only one question. Was her bed comfy?
__________________________________________________
Nope! No, it wasn't! Not in the slightest actually!
Alaska woke with a groan and a pain in her back.
As it turned out sleeping on a deck with only a layer of clothes and a towel wasn't comfortable at all. It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise Alaska had to admit, but her back really ached.
However, in some good news, Sergio hadn't killed her while she slept. That was a plus. She did enjoy not being dead.
Speaking of not being dead, Alaska hadn't heard anything about Laura, which was good. It meant she was still alive. They would still be able to meet up, all that was required was for them to manage to find each other while possessing no way to communicate. No sweat, they had this. The only other person...well...they were safe.
Alaska stood and stretched out her back, trying to relieve some of the aches she had acquired from sleeping on the floor. At the same time, she scanned over the deck of the ship, eyes searching for Sergio.
"Morning," She said with a small wave. "How'd you sleep?"
A series of raps on the side of the sailboat sounded, tapping out the rhythm of "shave and a haircut" from down on the jetty.
"Knock knock!"
((Sylvain Kessler continued from He Stands))
"Knock knock!"
((Sylvain Kessler continued from He Stands))
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For a little while after Alaska had gone to sleep, Sergio stayed awake thinking. Was this a good idea? His last alliance had ended poorly. He didn't care about Alaska nearly as much as Max, but he still hated the possibility of seeing her die in front of him. Plus she had been real nice to him so far, even if he had been unsure about someone else showing up. She was kind of hot too, which helped. He knew he shouldn't have been thinking about that, but he couldn't help himself. Noticing that kind of thing was an ingrained habit. It wasn't going to go away just because his circumstances had changed.
Eventually, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Sometimes he wondered if he had been sleeping at all. But if he hadn't been alert the whole time, what else could he have been doing?
Eventually the sun came up and he woke up for good. He stayed quiet for awhile. How was he going to bring up his goal to kill Akeno? He either needed a weapon or some help to do it. His aching throat reminded him of that. HIs aching shoulders and groin reminded him of the fitful night of sleep he just had.
Alaska called to him before he considered waking her up.
"Slept like a fish."
He let the odd statement hang in the air for a moment.
"Felt like my eyes were open the whole time."
He was about to ask how she had slept. Y'know, to be polite and all that shit, when the knocking interrupted.
Knock knock? He knew this joke. It wasn't a great one, but everyone knew the formula.
"Who's there?"
Eventually, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Sometimes he wondered if he had been sleeping at all. But if he hadn't been alert the whole time, what else could he have been doing?
Eventually the sun came up and he woke up for good. He stayed quiet for awhile. How was he going to bring up his goal to kill Akeno? He either needed a weapon or some help to do it. His aching throat reminded him of that. HIs aching shoulders and groin reminded him of the fitful night of sleep he just had.
Alaska called to him before he considered waking her up.
"Slept like a fish."
He let the odd statement hang in the air for a moment.
"Felt like my eyes were open the whole time."
He was about to ask how she had slept. Y'know, to be polite and all that shit, when the knocking interrupted.
Knock knock? He knew this joke. It wasn't a great one, but everyone knew the formula.
"Who's there?"
"Oh! I know this!" Alaska exclaimed, eyes lighting up.
She could play along, after all, if someone was making a knock-knock joke they probably didn't want them dead. So what would be the harm?
"Razor who?"
She could play along, after all, if someone was making a knock-knock joke they probably didn't want them dead. So what would be the harm?
"Razor who?"
"Raise your hands." The barrel of the gun appeared over the side of the boat. "'Cause this is a stick up."
After several beats of silence, Sylvain's face rose into view as he straightened up from hunching over against the side of the sailboat. "Not really. But if you guys have any extra water or snacks you wanna share, that'd be dope. I lost my stuff, and I'm dying a little."
He didn't particularly look like he was dying, but as he spoke more at length, the hoarseness of his voice was evident. Leaving all his everything behind with Sofia and Lucille? Yeah. Yeeeah. Maybe not the best trade ever made, but hey, he had the gun. And he and Alaska matched, so that was something too. His vision was slightly blurry at the edges, eyes feeling gummy from sleeping in his contacts, but color was color.
He thought he saw a flash of pink on Sergio. Funny coincidence.
Sylvain smiled. "Can I come up?"
After several beats of silence, Sylvain's face rose into view as he straightened up from hunching over against the side of the sailboat. "Not really. But if you guys have any extra water or snacks you wanna share, that'd be dope. I lost my stuff, and I'm dying a little."
He didn't particularly look like he was dying, but as he spoke more at length, the hoarseness of his voice was evident. Leaving all his everything behind with Sofia and Lucille? Yeah. Yeeeah. Maybe not the best trade ever made, but hey, he had the gun. And he and Alaska matched, so that was something too. His vision was slightly blurry at the edges, eyes feeling gummy from sleeping in his contacts, but color was color.
He thought he saw a flash of pink on Sergio. Funny coincidence.
Sylvain smiled. "Can I come up?"
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Pippi
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((Laura Hakštok continued from Fugitive))
CocaineQuest™ had been a fucking bust so far.
Nobody, not a goddamn motherfucking soul, had responded to her yelling, literally fucking no-one! Not even some dickhead shouting back at her to shut the fuck up, not even someone firing a lazy potshot at her! Like… the shit? Complete fuckin’ nada? Was everyone that much of a fucking pussy that they couldn’t even be bothered to seek her out and say ‘Dreadfully sorry m’lady, I have seen neither hide nor hair of your desired crack cocaine, now I must toodle-oo ‘fore I get shot through mine cranium’?
Maybe it was cause she’d decided to spend the night in some shitty little nondescript dinghy, cause she’d ended up running way past all the actual Big Boi Boats (thanks, stamina from years of Judo training, you actually won a fight against years of substance abuse for once), and all of a fucking sudden it had gotten dark as shit. And Laura was, like, 800% certain that jogging along a set of rickety, shitty jetties was just gonna get her a one-way trip to a ‘MOST EPIC FAILS ON SOTF EPISODE 47 (TRY NOT TO CRINGE)!!!!!’ video.
So she’d pulled back the tarpaulin of the nearest boat, and bundled herself into it, and then she’d waited there in the pitch black, with only her own thoughts for company, and luckily enough, they were in a good mood and were entirely centered around topless cocaine champagne pool parties. The dinghy was a goddamn far cry from the king-sized captain’s bed; it was cramped and uncomfortable, it smelled of fish and sweat and piss, and Laura was pretty convinced that if she turned too heavily in her sleep she’d smash a hole in the floor. But!
Actually, no, what the fuck, there was no ‘but’, the dinghy fucking sucked. It was warm, she guessed? But, again, so was the actual fucking bed, and that had a much lower chance of stabbing her in the ass with a fish hook.
Eventually, the built-up exhaustion from her running pushed her into the realm of sleep, and also eventually, she woke up, with a crick in her fucking neck. Fan-fucking-tastic. She groaned and blinked, as she rolled onto her side and rubbed the back of her skull. It was still dim as shit under the tarp, the entire area was quite dank, but there were a few rips and tears dotted around which let some light through. Noise, too, filtered through the fabric above her head, the second set of announcements muffled but still just about audible. Laura listened to them, idly, paying more attention to the chafing feeling in her legs than to the names being read out.
Junji, Ivan, Master Bateman, yeah anyone with half a brain cell could have figured out that pantheon of assholes was destined for Ritzy’s List Of Fuckheads Not To Tangle With. Other names came and went, names Laura hadn’t given a shit about before and that she had absolutely zero reason to give a shit about now. Danger Zones were called out. She yawned.
“Aight. Day 2. Lets get some fucking coke, gamers.”
Laura flung the tarp back and stood up, taking a moment to steady herself as the boat rocked beneath her. Fuck these tiny boats, man, like, seriously, was this the only way to make fishing exciting? That there was a chance you would break your neck or drown whenever you stood up? Whatevs. The scant hope that someone had delivered her a ziploc of the goods during the night, like a Miami Santa, was quickly dashed as soon as she grew accustomed to the light. Whatevs again. New day, new her, or some beatnik bullshit like that.
She strolled aimlessly along the jetties, taking it easy this time. It was morning, after all, and nobody should do shit in the morning, not even on a fucking death game. She yawned, and turned it into a huge bite of the footlong sub she held in her left hand. Her body had been aching for some food, and God knows she didn’t wanna be carrying tuna around for too long; that was a stench that’d never go away. She tore off a chunk of bread, moving to press it into Pat’s mouth, when she remembered that, oh right, a couple of bitches had gone and stolen her single solitary companion without even a ‘thank you’. Like, what the fuck. Even Laura didn’t steal- okay, no, that was a fuckin’ blatent lie, Laura had stolen a whole bunch of stuff in the past, but she’d never gone so far as to steal someone’s fucking skeleton.
“Fuckin’ pineapple-ass motherfucker,” she tutted.
She looked up from the space under her arm where her companion used to be (wow fucking sick fake deep quote there, all the emos on Tumblr would eat that right up) to see that she was wandering closer and closer to some kinda sailboat. Oh, and some kinda person as well, that was probably more important, unless they were all actually surrounded by a fleet of malicious, sentient ships. But that had only happened, like, twice, in Laura's dreams, so chances of that being the case were fucking low.
Laura moved closer, with absolutely zero caution whatsoever, the only care in her mind being whether this dude had something to help her get high as balls. Although the phrase ‘this dude’ was pretty ungenerous, because, oh fuck, if it wasn’t Sylvain Goddamn Kessler standing right there, facing the boat; you could spot the bitch’s hair from outer space, Laura reckoned. And if there was anybody on this godforsaken marina who might have a baggie of coke just casually on their person, or at the very least who wouldn’t be dull as fucking ditchwater, it was Sylvain.
“Your jokes fucking suck, Kessler,” Laura said as she strolled forwards, smile on her face.
CocaineQuest™ had been a fucking bust so far.
Nobody, not a goddamn motherfucking soul, had responded to her yelling, literally fucking no-one! Not even some dickhead shouting back at her to shut the fuck up, not even someone firing a lazy potshot at her! Like… the shit? Complete fuckin’ nada? Was everyone that much of a fucking pussy that they couldn’t even be bothered to seek her out and say ‘Dreadfully sorry m’lady, I have seen neither hide nor hair of your desired crack cocaine, now I must toodle-oo ‘fore I get shot through mine cranium’?
Maybe it was cause she’d decided to spend the night in some shitty little nondescript dinghy, cause she’d ended up running way past all the actual Big Boi Boats (thanks, stamina from years of Judo training, you actually won a fight against years of substance abuse for once), and all of a fucking sudden it had gotten dark as shit. And Laura was, like, 800% certain that jogging along a set of rickety, shitty jetties was just gonna get her a one-way trip to a ‘MOST EPIC FAILS ON SOTF EPISODE 47 (TRY NOT TO CRINGE)!!!!!’ video.
So she’d pulled back the tarpaulin of the nearest boat, and bundled herself into it, and then she’d waited there in the pitch black, with only her own thoughts for company, and luckily enough, they were in a good mood and were entirely centered around topless cocaine champagne pool parties. The dinghy was a goddamn far cry from the king-sized captain’s bed; it was cramped and uncomfortable, it smelled of fish and sweat and piss, and Laura was pretty convinced that if she turned too heavily in her sleep she’d smash a hole in the floor. But!
Actually, no, what the fuck, there was no ‘but’, the dinghy fucking sucked. It was warm, she guessed? But, again, so was the actual fucking bed, and that had a much lower chance of stabbing her in the ass with a fish hook.
Eventually, the built-up exhaustion from her running pushed her into the realm of sleep, and also eventually, she woke up, with a crick in her fucking neck. Fan-fucking-tastic. She groaned and blinked, as she rolled onto her side and rubbed the back of her skull. It was still dim as shit under the tarp, the entire area was quite dank, but there were a few rips and tears dotted around which let some light through. Noise, too, filtered through the fabric above her head, the second set of announcements muffled but still just about audible. Laura listened to them, idly, paying more attention to the chafing feeling in her legs than to the names being read out.
Junji, Ivan, Master Bateman, yeah anyone with half a brain cell could have figured out that pantheon of assholes was destined for Ritzy’s List Of Fuckheads Not To Tangle With. Other names came and went, names Laura hadn’t given a shit about before and that she had absolutely zero reason to give a shit about now. Danger Zones were called out. She yawned.
“Aight. Day 2. Lets get some fucking coke, gamers.”
Laura flung the tarp back and stood up, taking a moment to steady herself as the boat rocked beneath her. Fuck these tiny boats, man, like, seriously, was this the only way to make fishing exciting? That there was a chance you would break your neck or drown whenever you stood up? Whatevs. The scant hope that someone had delivered her a ziploc of the goods during the night, like a Miami Santa, was quickly dashed as soon as she grew accustomed to the light. Whatevs again. New day, new her, or some beatnik bullshit like that.
She strolled aimlessly along the jetties, taking it easy this time. It was morning, after all, and nobody should do shit in the morning, not even on a fucking death game. She yawned, and turned it into a huge bite of the footlong sub she held in her left hand. Her body had been aching for some food, and God knows she didn’t wanna be carrying tuna around for too long; that was a stench that’d never go away. She tore off a chunk of bread, moving to press it into Pat’s mouth, when she remembered that, oh right, a couple of bitches had gone and stolen her single solitary companion without even a ‘thank you’. Like, what the fuck. Even Laura didn’t steal- okay, no, that was a fuckin’ blatent lie, Laura had stolen a whole bunch of stuff in the past, but she’d never gone so far as to steal someone’s fucking skeleton.
“Fuckin’ pineapple-ass motherfucker,” she tutted.
She looked up from the space under her arm where her companion used to be (wow fucking sick fake deep quote there, all the emos on Tumblr would eat that right up) to see that she was wandering closer and closer to some kinda sailboat. Oh, and some kinda person as well, that was probably more important, unless they were all actually surrounded by a fleet of malicious, sentient ships. But that had only happened, like, twice, in Laura's dreams, so chances of that being the case were fucking low.
Laura moved closer, with absolutely zero caution whatsoever, the only care in her mind being whether this dude had something to help her get high as balls. Although the phrase ‘this dude’ was pretty ungenerous, because, oh fuck, if it wasn’t Sylvain Goddamn Kessler standing right there, facing the boat; you could spot the bitch’s hair from outer space, Laura reckoned. And if there was anybody on this godforsaken marina who might have a baggie of coke just casually on their person, or at the very least who wouldn’t be dull as fucking ditchwater, it was Sylvain.
“Your jokes fucking suck, Kessler,” Laura said as she strolled forwards, smile on her face.
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Having the gun pointed at him had nearly made him shit his fucking pants.
But hey he didn't and he wasn't actually being threatened yet.
Beyond that, the joke was clever. He would give it that much. It was clever, it fit the show they were on quite well, but it had a downside. The downside was that it was directed at Sergio, and that's not how he wanted to spend his day. Plus he and Alaska had told the last dude to eat shit, so why not this guy too? Well this guy had a gun, and a joke stick up could turn into a real one fast if he felt like it.
A new girl on the scene started bugging the new guy. It would take a moment to tell if it was friendly banter or a direct insult. Sergio didn't know these kinds of kids very well. Hopefully they would become preoccupied with one another and leave.
"Sure, but we're probably leaving soon."
He included Alaska in that, but it was fine. She seemed decently into him based on how she'd talked the night before. She'd go with him. He was sure of it.
He still needed to sell her on killing Akeno, but who would argue with that? Akeno was a menace and people would probably be happy if she was taken care of.
But hey he didn't and he wasn't actually being threatened yet.
Beyond that, the joke was clever. He would give it that much. It was clever, it fit the show they were on quite well, but it had a downside. The downside was that it was directed at Sergio, and that's not how he wanted to spend his day. Plus he and Alaska had told the last dude to eat shit, so why not this guy too? Well this guy had a gun, and a joke stick up could turn into a real one fast if he felt like it.
A new girl on the scene started bugging the new guy. It would take a moment to tell if it was friendly banter or a direct insult. Sergio didn't know these kinds of kids very well. Hopefully they would become preoccupied with one another and leave.
"Sure, but we're probably leaving soon."
He included Alaska in that, but it was fine. She seemed decently into him based on how she'd talked the night before. She'd go with him. He was sure of it.
He still needed to sell her on killing Akeno, but who would argue with that? Akeno was a menace and people would probably be happy if she was taken care of.
Ha, the joke had been kind of funny
They had a gun.
Oof.
There was a very tense silence.
Then Sylvain announced that he had been joking. Which was good for everyone involved. Alaska didn't want to get shot, and she was sure that Sergio wasn't exactly keen on the idea either. Because who would have been keen on eating a bullet to the dome? No one, that was who.
Now Sylvain was cool, he was a drama kid and did performance stuff. She didn't know him well or anything, she had stopped knowing people well a while ago if she was honest. It felt like everyone was an acquaintance she used to know. But from what she remembered Sylvain was sort of like Laura, in that they both enjoyed getting a reaction from people. Plus he was on her team, which fucking win! She had managed to find a teammate and all it took was absolutely no effort on her part. E- the Selkies were starting to come together and that was the hot shit. Plus he had a gun.
Then, as Sergio was telling Sylvain they were heading out—which, uh, she hadn't actually said anything of the sort, sir—she heard another much more familiar voice. A voice she recognized instantly and made her ears prick up. A voice that sent her rushing to the side of the boat.
It was her best friend.
"Laura!" Alaska said by way of an excited yelp as she set eyes on the other girl.
"Come on, get on up here."
They had a gun.
Oof.
There was a very tense silence.
Then Sylvain announced that he had been joking. Which was good for everyone involved. Alaska didn't want to get shot, and she was sure that Sergio wasn't exactly keen on the idea either. Because who would have been keen on eating a bullet to the dome? No one, that was who.
Now Sylvain was cool, he was a drama kid and did performance stuff. She didn't know him well or anything, she had stopped knowing people well a while ago if she was honest. It felt like everyone was an acquaintance she used to know. But from what she remembered Sylvain was sort of like Laura, in that they both enjoyed getting a reaction from people. Plus he was on her team, which fucking win! She had managed to find a teammate and all it took was absolutely no effort on her part. E- the Selkies were starting to come together and that was the hot shit. Plus he had a gun.
Then, as Sergio was telling Sylvain they were heading out—which, uh, she hadn't actually said anything of the sort, sir—she heard another much more familiar voice. A voice she recognized instantly and made her ears prick up. A voice that sent her rushing to the side of the boat.
It was her best friend.
"Laura!" Alaska said by way of an excited yelp as she set eyes on the other girl.
"Come on, get on up here."
There once was a girl named Laura,
Who had a malignant aura.
I shit ye not,
She made everything rot,
Including people, fauna, and flora.
Who had a malignant aura.
I shit ye not,
She made everything rot,
Including people, fauna, and flora.
That was the limerick Sylvain had written months ago on a whim, when he and Laura had utterly derailed Mari's Twitter thread about Dank Souls or whatever she was streaming. Mari had refused to DM it to Laura on his behalf, which had been kind of lame, but also funny in its own way. Left more to the imagination, which was probably for the best, even if he hadn't gone through with his threat to make it more vulgar.
Look, was it a great, or even good limerick? No. But Sylvain thought it was funny, and that was what mattered. It wasn't cyberbullying if it was funny and also if the person on the receiving end kind of deserved it.
On that note. In tune with Alaska rushing over, Sylvain crossed one leg over the other and then swiveled on his heels with a flourish to face Laura. "Hey, if you're going to show up just to criticize, you have to pay the troll toll. Hand over the snacks." He leaned his free arm against the side of the boat and gestured vaguely in Laura's direction with the gun, not really pointing it at her. His tone was still light, to match hers.
"Also what the hell are you wearing." He phrased it as more of a statement than a question.
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Pippi
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Hmmm. Y’know, aside from the cannons on the ghost ship (which didn’t count, cause they were probably as fake and plastic as Pat was (RIP In Peace)), Laura was pretty sure this was, like, the first weapon she’d seen during her time on Swimvival of the Fishest? And it was getting pointed at her as well, which was pretty fuckin’ wild.
It was not the first weapon she’d had pointed at her, for the record, so long as you counted ‘weapon’ as ‘object that the wielder intends to do harm with, regardless of whether it could even hurt a fly’. She’d pissed off a real drunk dude at a party so badly that he’d grabbed a butter knife and pointed it at her and told her that he’d cut up her dumb face. Everybody had laughed at him (sadly, Albert Einstain had not been there).
N E Weigh!
Sylvain’s gun wasn’t really pointed at her, just kinda held in his hand where it happened to be angled towards her leg, but that was still, like, a potential threat? Cause she highly doubted Sylvain had any semblance of gun training, trigger discipline, or general understanding of safety. Chance of him dabbing or whatever and accidentally shooting her in the goddamn tit was at, like, 65% and rising.
She didn’t move, out of the way, though - if she got shot, she got shot, and at least it’d be pretty fuckin’ funny - and instead just unzipped her bag, rooting around in it.
“You want some, uhhhhhhh, fuckin’ seaweed?” Laura asked, pulling one of the packets out of her bag and waving it in the air. “This isn’t my kinda grass, I ain’t planning on eating this.”
Laura chucked the packet towards Sylvain and grinned.
“Also it’s fuckin’ fashion, dude. It’s sexy. D’you know how many egirls’ lives I’ve improved with this? Cat ears and maid outfits are so passé, but a fuckin’ maid swimsuit? They’re gonna be getting so many followers on their OnlyFans thanks to me.”
She smirked again, then immediately lost all interest in him, the seaweed, and everything except for the boat in front of her. Like, don’t get her wrong, she liked bitch-boy Kessler, it would have been hilarious if the seaweed snacks had arced straight into the water, but that could all fuck off for a moment, her girl was waiting for her. No homo. Maybe a little homo. Depended on the situation and how funny it was, or how much it’d piss people off. You know how it is.
“Yo, bitch!” Laura yelled, running past Sylvain and clambering up onto the boat, windmilling her arms slightly as the fucker rocked under her feet, before she put her hands on her hips, grinning at Alaska.
“‘Sup. Still alive, huh? I mean, obviously you are, not like anyone has shit on us, we’re fuckin’ untouchable, but man, I fuckin’ missed you, ya dumb bitch.”
Oh, hey, Sergio was here too. Laura offered him a quick nod as well, she guessed it’d be kinda rude and shitty not to.
“You good?”
It was not the first weapon she’d had pointed at her, for the record, so long as you counted ‘weapon’ as ‘object that the wielder intends to do harm with, regardless of whether it could even hurt a fly’. She’d pissed off a real drunk dude at a party so badly that he’d grabbed a butter knife and pointed it at her and told her that he’d cut up her dumb face. Everybody had laughed at him (sadly, Albert Einstain had not been there).
N E Weigh!
Sylvain’s gun wasn’t really pointed at her, just kinda held in his hand where it happened to be angled towards her leg, but that was still, like, a potential threat? Cause she highly doubted Sylvain had any semblance of gun training, trigger discipline, or general understanding of safety. Chance of him dabbing or whatever and accidentally shooting her in the goddamn tit was at, like, 65% and rising.
She didn’t move, out of the way, though - if she got shot, she got shot, and at least it’d be pretty fuckin’ funny - and instead just unzipped her bag, rooting around in it.
“You want some, uhhhhhhh, fuckin’ seaweed?” Laura asked, pulling one of the packets out of her bag and waving it in the air. “This isn’t my kinda grass, I ain’t planning on eating this.”
Laura chucked the packet towards Sylvain and grinned.
“Also it’s fuckin’ fashion, dude. It’s sexy. D’you know how many egirls’ lives I’ve improved with this? Cat ears and maid outfits are so passé, but a fuckin’ maid swimsuit? They’re gonna be getting so many followers on their OnlyFans thanks to me.”
She smirked again, then immediately lost all interest in him, the seaweed, and everything except for the boat in front of her. Like, don’t get her wrong, she liked bitch-boy Kessler, it would have been hilarious if the seaweed snacks had arced straight into the water, but that could all fuck off for a moment, her girl was waiting for her. No homo. Maybe a little homo. Depended on the situation and how funny it was, or how much it’d piss people off. You know how it is.
“Yo, bitch!” Laura yelled, running past Sylvain and clambering up onto the boat, windmilling her arms slightly as the fucker rocked under her feet, before she put her hands on her hips, grinning at Alaska.
“‘Sup. Still alive, huh? I mean, obviously you are, not like anyone has shit on us, we’re fuckin’ untouchable, but man, I fuckin’ missed you, ya dumb bitch.”
Oh, hey, Sergio was here too. Laura offered him a quick nod as well, she guessed it’d be kinda rude and shitty not to.
“You good?”
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Courtography
- Posts: 518
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 11:03 pm
This situation fucking sucked didn't it?
It felt completely out of his control. The other three teens seemed to have preexisting relationships that he had nothing to do with. Plus there was the gun. Things had been going much better in the middle of the night compared to the present. He couldn't let that show though. Things were all good. He was Sergio Gallo and he was going to eventually win this thing. He could probably get Alaska on his side, even if not completely. It would be fine. Girls always fought so she and Laura probably wouldn't work together like it seemed right now.
That was enough planning for now. Laura had decided to send her eyes his way. Maybe he could get her on his side too. Things weren't as bad as it seemed.
"Yeah I'm chill," he responded.
It felt completely out of his control. The other three teens seemed to have preexisting relationships that he had nothing to do with. Plus there was the gun. Things had been going much better in the middle of the night compared to the present. He couldn't let that show though. Things were all good. He was Sergio Gallo and he was going to eventually win this thing. He could probably get Alaska on his side, even if not completely. It would be fine. Girls always fought so she and Laura probably wouldn't work together like it seemed right now.
That was enough planning for now. Laura had decided to send her eyes his way. Maybe he could get her on his side too. Things weren't as bad as it seemed.
"Yeah I'm chill," he responded.