Vasily peered into the empty ice cream containers. They’re, well, obviously they were fucking empty. Eh, whateves. He’s never a fan of ‘em anyways. It’s not like anything could be appetizing right now, after all the blood and violence and all that schmuck. Fuck, Ivan got curb-stomped reallll bad.
He took his mask off and stuffed it into his bag.
((MM01/FR02 Vasily Ivanov continued after: That mess))
That was. So fucked up. Jesus christ, he has someone’s teeth in his pocket. They probably straight up killed Ivan. Seventy-something, maybe eighty kids are going to die in the next… week or so.
He pulled his weapon out.
Not the chains, the bugles.
Jesus fuck, he still couldn’t believe they gave him bugles. The producers had the audacity to not even give him a family pack.
So fucked up, right?
He tore the bag open and stuck one of the snacks on his index finger, wiggling it like a claw, like he used to do as a kid, when he was younger and curled up on the sofa next to Lucia as shitty television played on the background, just enjoying the company of each other as they gushed over tropes and characters and whateverthefuck that wasn’t relevant anymore. And then he ate it. He couldn’t find a good symbolism for that without sounding stupid. Vasily contemplated the tree costume in the water, and then stopped contemplating because that was useless.
His hair stuck to his face with the humidity from being under a mask, so he took his bandanna off and folded it into a thin stripe, tying his hair up with it.
He didn’t really know what to feel and feeling sad and mopey would make everything worse, so he just put the bugles back into his backpack and laughed a little bit as he grabbed a beach ball.
“HEY! ” He chucked the ball at Giselle, with maybe a little more force than needed since the two weren’t that far away, because Fisk got kinda messed up in the fight and honestly he didn’t want to startle him as much as he wanted to startle Giselle. “Catch!”
The dissonance must be kinda crazy, actually. Just a buncha’ kids beating another kid to death, and then suddenly three of them are playing ball. It was better than the alternative anyways, which was crying and moping until they died. The bubbling pot of emotions in his stomach made him feel sick, but he couldn’t exactly just do yoga or punch a wall in front of the two without looking weird, so he settled for this.
“You guys wanna play volleyball? Swim? Should we change? Any dibs to place on the floaties? I claim the alligator one if nobody wants it, i think it could fit me and Fisk. I mean, if he wants to join me, like 'cause, er, Giselle's a girl and I don't want people to start shipping us for being on a floatie together and whatever and... nevermind.”
Funtime in the Sunshine
A PM-to-enter pool party~
-
Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
((FR05 Giselle Fillmore continued from F's in the chat))
It was time to remove the masks, and Giselle was glad to finally be able to breathe some fresh ocean air. They had decided to split up to scout the area, so Giselle sticked with Fisk and Vasily.
Speaking of, Vas called out to her direction and threw a ball in her direction. She shrieked and blocked the incoming ball with her forearms she shielded her face with as she hid behind them. The ball collided with her forearms and then continued to bounce back into Vasily's direction.
Vas continued by talking like an excited dog, suggesting all kinds of activities, none of which interested Giselle in particular. Sure, there was a pool in front of them, but also the whole US creeping on them. Giselle was given a bikini as a costume and another white bikini as a team outfit. She did not intend to pleasure any creepy SOTF-Fans in the slightest though. Relaxing sounded like a good idea.
"Yeah. Whatever."
She went to the nearest pool chair to sit on it. She placed her bag right next to it, pulled her hat and sunglasses out of it and dropped the mask on the bag. She leaned back and closed her eyes behind her sunglasses. She felt tired, but probably exhausted was the more correct term. Ivan took a lot of energy out of her, so she was glad about some peace.
It was time to remove the masks, and Giselle was glad to finally be able to breathe some fresh ocean air. They had decided to split up to scout the area, so Giselle sticked with Fisk and Vasily.
Speaking of, Vas called out to her direction and threw a ball in her direction. She shrieked and blocked the incoming ball with her forearms she shielded her face with as she hid behind them. The ball collided with her forearms and then continued to bounce back into Vasily's direction.
Vas continued by talking like an excited dog, suggesting all kinds of activities, none of which interested Giselle in particular. Sure, there was a pool in front of them, but also the whole US creeping on them. Giselle was given a bikini as a costume and another white bikini as a team outfit. She did not intend to pleasure any creepy SOTF-Fans in the slightest though. Relaxing sounded like a good idea.
"Yeah. Whatever."
She went to the nearest pool chair to sit on it. She placed her bag right next to it, pulled her hat and sunglasses out of it and dropped the mask on the bag. She leaned back and closed her eyes behind her sunglasses. She felt tired, but probably exhausted was the more correct term. Ivan took a lot of energy out of her, so she was glad about some peace.
I'm so glad to be back !
Ivan was dead, that much was clear. Personally Fisk wasn’t all too phased by recent events, but he was well aware that some of the other Respects were. Granted, they were in a death game, and granted, Ivan did start off trying to kill Fisk (and would have most likely succeeded), but it’s not every day that you kill someone, and Fisk was aware that for most people, taking a life was a lot to unpack, let alone the manner they had done it.
Fisk knew that everyone needed a break, a return to normality, and a chance to just sit down and unpack it all if they were to stand together and make it to the end.
So, they decided to make a trip to the pool.
((SS09/FR01 Fisk Bateman continued from their debut. ))
Fisk took his mask off and knelt by the pool, washing his face with pool water. As of right now, it was just him, Vas, and Gis. Bacchia was taking this pretty well and still had quite a bit of energy left after Ivan, and she volunteered to pull some guard duty with Keegan and James to make sure nobody in the ship got the drop on them. Proactive, sure, and Fisk wasn’t all that concerned about Bacchia and what she’d do as a Respect, but she had the people Fisk was most concerned about with her too. He trusted James and Keegan, hell, Keegan was the first to come to his aid, and James was the one who knocked Ivan’s teeth away with that punch, but Fisk definitely picked up that they were the most phased by what they all did. He didn’t want them to get worn down or broke off mentally. Even if they did have strength in numbers, SOTF was a mental game as much as a physical one, and The Respects were as vulnerable as anyone else. Any form of weakness or hesitation could mean death. He wondered if he should’ve sent Giselle and Vasily with Bacchia first so he could talk with them- Giselle yelped and took Fisk out of his daydreaming. Vasily got her attention by tossing a volleyball at her. Good to see he was in good spirits.
Fuck it. They’ll be fine, he figured. They’ll be back soon anyways. In the mean time, Vasily wanted to kill time, by means of playing or swimming. Giselle wanted none of it, she was content to simply rest, but honestly Fisk could use a good distraction from all the thoughts crawling around in his brain.
“Sure! I’ll play ball with you, Vas!” Fisk unbuttoned his jacket and placed it a nearby bench. He began rifling through his bag for the swim trunks and towel...
Covering himself with the towel for modesty purposes he slid up his swim trunks, and unrolled the towel off of him. Gun, mask, and towel in hand, he made his way to the pool side. He set his mask and gun by the edge, (just in case someone wanted to get froggy and try some shit when they were vulnerable) and hopped himself into the pool.
Fisk knew that everyone needed a break, a return to normality, and a chance to just sit down and unpack it all if they were to stand together and make it to the end.
So, they decided to make a trip to the pool.
((SS09/FR01 Fisk Bateman continued from their debut. ))
Fisk took his mask off and knelt by the pool, washing his face with pool water. As of right now, it was just him, Vas, and Gis. Bacchia was taking this pretty well and still had quite a bit of energy left after Ivan, and she volunteered to pull some guard duty with Keegan and James to make sure nobody in the ship got the drop on them. Proactive, sure, and Fisk wasn’t all that concerned about Bacchia and what she’d do as a Respect, but she had the people Fisk was most concerned about with her too. He trusted James and Keegan, hell, Keegan was the first to come to his aid, and James was the one who knocked Ivan’s teeth away with that punch, but Fisk definitely picked up that they were the most phased by what they all did. He didn’t want them to get worn down or broke off mentally. Even if they did have strength in numbers, SOTF was a mental game as much as a physical one, and The Respects were as vulnerable as anyone else. Any form of weakness or hesitation could mean death. He wondered if he should’ve sent Giselle and Vasily with Bacchia first so he could talk with them- Giselle yelped and took Fisk out of his daydreaming. Vasily got her attention by tossing a volleyball at her. Good to see he was in good spirits.
Fuck it. They’ll be fine, he figured. They’ll be back soon anyways. In the mean time, Vasily wanted to kill time, by means of playing or swimming. Giselle wanted none of it, she was content to simply rest, but honestly Fisk could use a good distraction from all the thoughts crawling around in his brain.
“Sure! I’ll play ball with you, Vas!” Fisk unbuttoned his jacket and placed it a nearby bench. He began rifling through his bag for the swim trunks and towel...
Covering himself with the towel for modesty purposes he slid up his swim trunks, and unrolled the towel off of him. Gun, mask, and towel in hand, he made his way to the pool side. He set his mask and gun by the edge, (just in case someone wanted to get froggy and try some shit when they were vulnerable) and hopped himself into the pool.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
"I... alright, nice!" He didn't actually, like, expect Fisk to be down for pool volleyball after the whole Ivan debacle, but you know what? He was going to take all the opportunities to have fun here. He tried to discreetly look at his, erm, teammate(?) after he changed, not really in a pervy way but in a curious, 'oh-these-scars-looked-cool' way. The silvery-pink tissue stretched across his pale skin, from hip to shoulder, and it's not every day that he got to see someone with interesting... traits like that. It's just like Vasily himself being stared at. When he was walking down the street, people had their eyes linger on him, picking apart his features- his single eye, his purple hair, his clothes, his everything, even the parts of himself that he couldn't really change, so it's only fair for him to steal a few stares for himself. (well, technically he could just use a regular glass eye and ditch the 'patch, but where's the fun in that?)
He counted to three, as Fisk's hand left the gun by the edge of the pool, and then tore his eye away, directing it at the ball lying down at the ground instead. Giselle didn't want to play with them, and that's OK. That's totally valid. She looked... oddly relaxed, on the chair, sunglasses and hat on. Like they were just some teenagers at a pool party. Which they are! But that's not the point.
Vasily hid behind a pool chair, taking the layers of his clothes off and copying Fisk's towel trick to change his clothes. He really hoped the sunscreen he put on before school was still on his body, because his poor skin would hate him. Gingerly, he took his eyepatch off.
"This is the weirdest part," he announced, before holding the thumb to the corner of the glass eye, digging into it until the glass bulged out of the socket, popping it out. "I guess y'all are paying attention to me right now- I mean I hope you are, so can I recommend Clearwater Eye Design? They really made this-" he held his eye around him, hoping the camera would catch it the design and the way the glitter paint shined- "Pop."
...Wait, that was super out of place but whatever, um,
"I'm not being told to do this or anything the doctor there is just really nice and also he's going through a divorce right now. Y'know, I just had a weird thought, like, next time you get a one-eyed kid what if you just straight-up put a camera in her eye? Would make a lot better of an experience than just putting them in the collars."
Wait, no, that's worse and he never should have talked.
This was weird. This was super weird. He was in Survival of the Fittest after participating in a murder and now here he is, embarrassed over being in swim trunks next to a dude after advertising his doctor. But it doesn't matter. He has no need to be embarrassed- that's a bit of an useless emotion, here in this game and also a useless emotion most of the time, and he needed to do something, do anything, because doing something is better than just thinking about something. So, then, Vasily tugged at his bandanna holding his hair up to make it tighter in order to make sure it wouldn't fall off while swimming, and then he put the prosthetic eye in his bag and put the bag besides the pool, and he went to the volleyball laying on the ground. One step at a time, one action at a time. He kicked the volleyball into the pool, and then he went and grabbed some pool noodles and two boogie boards and threw them into the pool. He took the pool floaties and threw them into the pool, too, and he went in the water and fished the tree costume out, throwing it next to another chair the opposite direction from where Giselle was. Do something. Do anything.
And then he jumped in, too.
He counted to three, as Fisk's hand left the gun by the edge of the pool, and then tore his eye away, directing it at the ball lying down at the ground instead. Giselle didn't want to play with them, and that's OK. That's totally valid. She looked... oddly relaxed, on the chair, sunglasses and hat on. Like they were just some teenagers at a pool party. Which they are! But that's not the point.
Vasily hid behind a pool chair, taking the layers of his clothes off and copying Fisk's towel trick to change his clothes. He really hoped the sunscreen he put on before school was still on his body, because his poor skin would hate him. Gingerly, he took his eyepatch off.
"This is the weirdest part," he announced, before holding the thumb to the corner of the glass eye, digging into it until the glass bulged out of the socket, popping it out. "I guess y'all are paying attention to me right now- I mean I hope you are, so can I recommend Clearwater Eye Design? They really made this-" he held his eye around him, hoping the camera would catch it the design and the way the glitter paint shined- "Pop."
...Wait, that was super out of place but whatever, um,
"I'm not being told to do this or anything the doctor there is just really nice and also he's going through a divorce right now. Y'know, I just had a weird thought, like, next time you get a one-eyed kid what if you just straight-up put a camera in her eye? Would make a lot better of an experience than just putting them in the collars."
Wait, no, that's worse and he never should have talked.
This was weird. This was super weird. He was in Survival of the Fittest after participating in a murder and now here he is, embarrassed over being in swim trunks next to a dude after advertising his doctor. But it doesn't matter. He has no need to be embarrassed- that's a bit of an useless emotion, here in this game and also a useless emotion most of the time, and he needed to do something, do anything, because doing something is better than just thinking about something. So, then, Vasily tugged at his bandanna holding his hair up to make it tighter in order to make sure it wouldn't fall off while swimming, and then he put the prosthetic eye in his bag and put the bag besides the pool, and he went to the volleyball laying on the ground. One step at a time, one action at a time. He kicked the volleyball into the pool, and then he went and grabbed some pool noodles and two boogie boards and threw them into the pool. He took the pool floaties and threw them into the pool, too, and he went in the water and fished the tree costume out, throwing it next to another chair the opposite direction from where Giselle was. Do something. Do anything.
And then he jumped in, too.
Fisk took the time to fully submerge himself in the water to get used to the temperature. Pool water was always cold, no matter the season. Even the indoor ones in the toasty gym rooms had hella cold water. He popped back up and wiped chlorine water from his eyes before opening them.
“Oh.”
Quick glance away. An accidental double take to confirm what he was looking at, then another longer glance away. Stare aimlessly at the water and at least try to pretend you weren’t peeking. Admittedly he had to turn his head back towards Vasily when he heard “weirdest part”.
Fisk saw Vasily thumbing around his eye socket to pull out his prosthetic. Okay that’s what he meant. Fisk wasn’t sure what else he was expecting. This was significantly easier to watch though, not in the sense that it was easier on the eyes as much as it was that there was a camera watching Fisk watch Vasily and all the implications that it err... implies.
There was also a sort of jealousy that Fisk felt, in how easy it seemed for Vasily to just... pull his eye out and advertise the maker. He was able to talk to the whole world about his eye all comfortably, and Fisk couldn’t look in the mirror without feeling anger about the events that lead to his scars. Couldn’t find himself not feeling at least a bit frustrated when he caught someone staring at him- It had just occurred to Fisk that Vasily just made a pun about his eye. Yeah, Fisk couldn’t do that. He just goes about his day ignoring it’s existence until reminded by a mirror or someone staring at him.
Eventually Vasily finished his sales pitch and made his way to the pool with a practically every pool toy imaginable. Sometime between that and pulling out the soggy tree costume from the pool, Fisk grabbed the volleyball.
“Hey Vas! You’re up!”
And serve.
“Oh.”
Quick glance away. An accidental double take to confirm what he was looking at, then another longer glance away. Stare aimlessly at the water and at least try to pretend you weren’t peeking. Admittedly he had to turn his head back towards Vasily when he heard “weirdest part”.
Fisk saw Vasily thumbing around his eye socket to pull out his prosthetic. Okay that’s what he meant. Fisk wasn’t sure what else he was expecting. This was significantly easier to watch though, not in the sense that it was easier on the eyes as much as it was that there was a camera watching Fisk watch Vasily and all the implications that it err... implies.
There was also a sort of jealousy that Fisk felt, in how easy it seemed for Vasily to just... pull his eye out and advertise the maker. He was able to talk to the whole world about his eye all comfortably, and Fisk couldn’t look in the mirror without feeling anger about the events that lead to his scars. Couldn’t find himself not feeling at least a bit frustrated when he caught someone staring at him- It had just occurred to Fisk that Vasily just made a pun about his eye. Yeah, Fisk couldn’t do that. He just goes about his day ignoring it’s existence until reminded by a mirror or someone staring at him.
Eventually Vasily finished his sales pitch and made his way to the pool with a practically every pool toy imaginable. Sometime between that and pulling out the soggy tree costume from the pool, Fisk grabbed the volleyball.
“Hey Vas! You’re up!”
And serve.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
It was, like, really fucking cold in there and he forgot to remove his contacts, but he didn't want to look like even more of a complete dweeb, so he-
The beach ball smacked onto his forehead, knocking him back a bit.
"Oh fuck. Ow. ow- ha. haha.." that hurt. Kind of pleasantly, though. And he's got to get used to hurtin' these days, so he made a note to self to try to savor the pain. You know, like these batshit villains who get hurt and just goes 'haahaa the pain is delicious heehee wretched heroes, you'll never defeat me! *licks blood-*' yeah, like that. Except instead of a fight, Vasily's in a pool with a hot guy and just had a beach ball attack his forehead.
Vasily swam towards the beach ball and clung to it. "Hey, uh, I've got contacts on and I don't wanna take them off because they might get lost and also i'm, like, kinda blind without them. So I can't really go underwater all that much unless my eyes are closed, is that OK with you?" Just in case Fisk wanted them to swim laps around the pool or something. Who knows. Just in case.
With the wobbly posture of a boy who almost failed gym glass in eighth grade, he put himself at a serving position, even though he doesn't really know what playing volleyball was like anymore, but apparently Fisk still remembered these P.E classes. Fisk was cool. Fisk was cool in that seemingly effortless way that he wanted to be- Vasily was a boy trying to be a supervillain, and Fisk felt like he just walked right out of a movie, with his speeches and plans and everything. He was... no, it wasn't jealousy. It was admiration, sorta. It was this confidence about Fisk that didn't look fake at all.
"You're up," Vasily echoed back.
And serve.
His foot stepped on something small and sharp. He pinched it between his toes, bringing it up to grab the pebble. Thank god for flexibility.
"Wait, hol' up, is that a tooth? Whatever- they probably left already."
The beach ball smacked onto his forehead, knocking him back a bit.
"Oh fuck. Ow. ow- ha. haha.." that hurt. Kind of pleasantly, though. And he's got to get used to hurtin' these days, so he made a note to self to try to savor the pain. You know, like these batshit villains who get hurt and just goes 'haahaa the pain is delicious heehee wretched heroes, you'll never defeat me! *licks blood-*' yeah, like that. Except instead of a fight, Vasily's in a pool with a hot guy and just had a beach ball attack his forehead.
Vasily swam towards the beach ball and clung to it. "Hey, uh, I've got contacts on and I don't wanna take them off because they might get lost and also i'm, like, kinda blind without them. So I can't really go underwater all that much unless my eyes are closed, is that OK with you?" Just in case Fisk wanted them to swim laps around the pool or something. Who knows. Just in case.
With the wobbly posture of a boy who almost failed gym glass in eighth grade, he put himself at a serving position, even though he doesn't really know what playing volleyball was like anymore, but apparently Fisk still remembered these P.E classes. Fisk was cool. Fisk was cool in that seemingly effortless way that he wanted to be- Vasily was a boy trying to be a supervillain, and Fisk felt like he just walked right out of a movie, with his speeches and plans and everything. He was... no, it wasn't jealousy. It was admiration, sorta. It was this confidence about Fisk that didn't look fake at all.
"You're up," Vasily echoed back.
And serve.
His foot stepped on something small and sharp. He pinched it between his toes, bringing it up to grab the pebble. Thank god for flexibility.
"Wait, hol' up, is that a tooth? Whatever- they probably left already."
“Oof! My bad.” An earlier warning would have sufficed, to be fair. Eh, it’s just a volleyball though, no harm no foul. Vasily warned about his contacts which was reasonable. Fisk was lucky to not be graced with eye problems so he didn’t get that struggle, but getting water on contacts sounded pretty unpleasant. “Sure, just let the others know when they get back so they don’t dunk you.” Never know.
Vasily served next and before Fisk could bounce the ball back he heard Vasily chime in about something. Fisk caught the ball and looked.
Yep. That was a tooth.
“Eugh. Put that away, you don’t know where that’s been.” Fisk said, as if Vasily hadn’t collected Ivan’s teeth after James knocked them out.
“It’s unsanitary...” Fisk said, as if he hadn’t been carving a big F into Ivan’s forehead not even thirty minutes ago.
Vasily served next and before Fisk could bounce the ball back he heard Vasily chime in about something. Fisk caught the ball and looked.
Yep. That was a tooth.
“Eugh. Put that away, you don’t know where that’s been.” Fisk said, as if Vasily hadn’t collected Ivan’s teeth after James knocked them out.
“It’s unsanitary...” Fisk said, as if he hadn’t been carving a big F into Ivan’s forehead not even thirty minutes ago.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
"Yeah... I mean, I'm pretty sure there's gonna be more fights here later, anyways. Gotta enjoy the clean water."
Half-swimming, half-doggy paddling, Vasily reached the edge of the pool where his bag was and deposited the slightly wet tooth in. It nestled besides Ivan's, indistinguishable. "Uh, I dunno, I just think collecting teeth could be my MO, y'know. Like, uh, trophies or horcruxes."
Then, before Fisk could say something because oh god Vasily just exposed himself as a nerd, he called out to him. "Wait, can you serve the ball again? Like, this time at my forehead. I wanna see if I can do that thing where soccer players bop the ball with their forehead."
Giselle is, like, totally missing out on Hot Boy Summer pool adventures in tooth collection or whatever it is. Two bros chilling in a pool, like five-to-ten feet apart 'cause... Well, Vasily was into guys but he didn't know about Fisk. He wondered if he should do some audience interaction again and note the meme out, but decided against it because it probably wouldn't sound as funny as he thought it was. If he survives When he gets out of here he could have all the time he wanted poking fun at himself.
He wanted to ask her about joining in, but honestly, like, he should probably let her chill.
Half-swimming, half-doggy paddling, Vasily reached the edge of the pool where his bag was and deposited the slightly wet tooth in. It nestled besides Ivan's, indistinguishable. "Uh, I dunno, I just think collecting teeth could be my MO, y'know. Like, uh, trophies or horcruxes."
Then, before Fisk could say something because oh god Vasily just exposed himself as a nerd, he called out to him. "Wait, can you serve the ball again? Like, this time at my forehead. I wanna see if I can do that thing where soccer players bop the ball with their forehead."
Giselle is, like, totally missing out on Hot Boy Summer pool adventures in tooth collection or whatever it is. Two bros chilling in a pool, like five-to-ten feet apart 'cause... Well, Vasily was into guys but he didn't know about Fisk. He wondered if he should do some audience interaction again and note the meme out, but decided against it because it probably wouldn't sound as funny as he thought it was. If he survives When he gets out of here he could have all the time he wanted poking fun at himself.
He wanted to ask her about joining in, but honestly, like, he should probably let her chill.
-
Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
It wasn't that easy to relax and fall asleep for Giselle. Partially because of the noise Vasily and Fisk created, but primarily because she was worried about the dangers that could come from any corner. Sure, Vas and Fisk were with her but they were also in the water, where they would move slower than usual, which could be deadly in case someone dangerous came around the corner. They were also mostly focused on playing ball in the pool, so they couldn't focus on keeping an eye on who was joining the area, so Giselle was pretty was much responsible for that task.
Giselle sighed. She was slightly annoyed by Vasily jumping into the water and creating a splash. Luckily, no water had hit her and both seem to be respecting her need to just chill, not throwing objects or sending splashes of water into her direction. Apparently it had been a very good decision for her to stay out of the pool, because they had found a tooth in it. Gross. That gave her more reasons to avoid getting splashed by liquids of that pool.
She pulled out Ivan's wallet again and inspected its content. The photo of a girl who Giselle only assumed to be Ivan's girlfriend caught her eye. She could not see it that clearly, because of her own sunglasses taking away the colours, of course. Giselle wondered how she was reacting to the death of her boyfriend. She was also wondering about why the hell anybody would want to have Ivan as a boyfriend. Was he a nicer person to her and did he have a secret soft side? Or was he obnoxious to her as well and she just had to endure his personality? If he had found someone special who was nice and understanding to him, someone that would complement his awful personality, well, good for him. If she was the type of girl who was only in a relationship with Ivan because he had the money and the looks, but she didn't actually love him, well, he deserved that kind of fate, too.
Speaking of good looks, she glanced at his gym card. The name of the gym sounded familiar, in fact, Giselle remembered walking by it on weekends when walking through the city with her friends. She only ever passed by the gym and never actually considered investing money to join the other stupid-looking idiots in that building. It was kind of funny that someone who was fairly fit and visited the gym regularly got killed by a girl who barely left her house. Well, with the help of five other persons. She would have been in big trouble if she had met him without having the Respects as a support.
Finally, she looked at the family picture again. It felt strange holding the wallet of a person she just had murdered. Seeing that face of him happily with his family felt strange. She tried to remind herself what an awful person Ivan was, but every memory of him being a dick just reminded her that he had been a young and childish human. He had been an idiot, for sure, but maybe he simply didn't know better, because he had been spoiled by his dad, and if that's been the case, he hadn't been completely at fault for his behaviour or personality. Maybe he didn't get enough attention from his daddy so he needed to get it from the classmates around him. That thought just occured to her in that very moment, because, frankly, she hadn't really ever thought about Ivan back in school, nor had she any reason to think about him in her spare time, but now Ivan probably would be stuck in her head for quite some while.
Giselle felt emotions while looking at the pictures of her deceased classmate and speculating. She didn't show any reaction though. She would not get emotional in front of the cameras, because that is exactly what the viewers want. Regret and emotions and drama and conflict. But Giselle showed no sign of inner conflict. She put the wallet back and continued watching the boys.
Giselle sighed. She was slightly annoyed by Vasily jumping into the water and creating a splash. Luckily, no water had hit her and both seem to be respecting her need to just chill, not throwing objects or sending splashes of water into her direction. Apparently it had been a very good decision for her to stay out of the pool, because they had found a tooth in it. Gross. That gave her more reasons to avoid getting splashed by liquids of that pool.
She pulled out Ivan's wallet again and inspected its content. The photo of a girl who Giselle only assumed to be Ivan's girlfriend caught her eye. She could not see it that clearly, because of her own sunglasses taking away the colours, of course. Giselle wondered how she was reacting to the death of her boyfriend. She was also wondering about why the hell anybody would want to have Ivan as a boyfriend. Was he a nicer person to her and did he have a secret soft side? Or was he obnoxious to her as well and she just had to endure his personality? If he had found someone special who was nice and understanding to him, someone that would complement his awful personality, well, good for him. If she was the type of girl who was only in a relationship with Ivan because he had the money and the looks, but she didn't actually love him, well, he deserved that kind of fate, too.
Speaking of good looks, she glanced at his gym card. The name of the gym sounded familiar, in fact, Giselle remembered walking by it on weekends when walking through the city with her friends. She only ever passed by the gym and never actually considered investing money to join the other stupid-looking idiots in that building. It was kind of funny that someone who was fairly fit and visited the gym regularly got killed by a girl who barely left her house. Well, with the help of five other persons. She would have been in big trouble if she had met him without having the Respects as a support.
Finally, she looked at the family picture again. It felt strange holding the wallet of a person she just had murdered. Seeing that face of him happily with his family felt strange. She tried to remind herself what an awful person Ivan was, but every memory of him being a dick just reminded her that he had been a young and childish human. He had been an idiot, for sure, but maybe he simply didn't know better, because he had been spoiled by his dad, and if that's been the case, he hadn't been completely at fault for his behaviour or personality. Maybe he didn't get enough attention from his daddy so he needed to get it from the classmates around him. That thought just occured to her in that very moment, because, frankly, she hadn't really ever thought about Ivan back in school, nor had she any reason to think about him in her spare time, but now Ivan probably would be stuck in her head for quite some while.
Giselle felt emotions while looking at the pictures of her deceased classmate and speculating. She didn't show any reaction though. She would not get emotional in front of the cameras, because that is exactly what the viewers want. Regret and emotions and drama and conflict. But Giselle showed no sign of inner conflict. She put the wallet back and continued watching the boys.
I'm so glad to be back !
“Collecting teeth huh? Very well.” Fisk shrugged. Fisk got it, though he didn’t quite care for it too much. Sure collecting mementos from a victim made sense, they were trophies after all, but after a while if you keep at it, all those trophies are just going to weigh you down, or become a distraction one way or another. Fisk wasn’t saying that Vasily was such a noodle that he’d have trouble carrying five guns worth of teeth around, but having them in his pocket would still be rather annoying. Either they’d chafe or make a bunch of noise or just be inconvenient in general.
Fisk shrugged. The conversation changed to Vasily wanting to imitate a soccer player or a seal at an aquarium, and bounce the ball over his head. “Sure!” Fisk says again. Odd request but Borderlands 2 taught him that some people were fine with being hit in the face (and Ivan taught him that Fisk wasn’t one of those people, nor was Ivan) but maybe Vasily was. Fisk couldn’t judge. In this type of game some bit of sadomasochism would go far. At least it would add to The Respects viewer counts.
Fisk aimed the ball higher just so Vasily had the time to plan his hit.
Fisk shrugged. The conversation changed to Vasily wanting to imitate a soccer player or a seal at an aquarium, and bounce the ball over his head. “Sure!” Fisk says again. Odd request but Borderlands 2 taught him that some people were fine with being hit in the face (and Ivan taught him that Fisk wasn’t one of those people, nor was Ivan) but maybe Vasily was. Fisk couldn’t judge. In this type of game some bit of sadomasochism would go far. At least it would add to The Respects viewer counts.
Fisk aimed the ball higher just so Vasily had the time to plan his hit.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
Vasily saw the ball sailing through the air, and was suddenly reminded of the fact that he doesn't have peripheral vision.
That's alright, the ball still landed on his forehead anyways (no thanks to him slamming his head into the projectile), with a Bonk and a dull, painful sensation echoing through his skull as it bounced off. Feebly, it flew towards Fisk.
It was stupid of him to let his guard down, at a time of this. He needed to keep on reminding himself that he is in Survival of the fucking Fittest, not a pool party, but he just couldn't.
He needed to, but he didn't want to.
(Should he even remember?)
That's alright, the ball still landed on his forehead anyways (no thanks to him slamming his head into the projectile), with a Bonk and a dull, painful sensation echoing through his skull as it bounced off. Feebly, it flew towards Fisk.
It was stupid of him to let his guard down, at a time of this. He needed to keep on reminding himself that he is in Survival of the fucking Fittest, not a pool party, but he just couldn't.
He needed to, but he didn't want to.
(Should he even remember?)
Oh? He actually hit it! Good shit. The ball sailed back towards Fisk. He cusped his hands together and bopped it back with an underhand.
“You’re up!”
Y’know, it was pretty easy to fool yourself here. Just going on a cruise to get away from the stresses of modern life. Go swimming, play volleyball with friends, relax...
Go kill some people...
Fisk’s turn. Boink.
Truthfully Fisk couldn’t feel much remorse for what had happened, and he was very thankful that Ivan happened by when he did. He made the whole thing just so easy. It’s not hard to convince people to kill someone when they know that Ivan’d be gunning for all of them had the roles switched. Admittedly, things would’ve been a lot harder had it been someone like Rupert. Someone nicer, more passive, more friendly. Would’ve been hard for Fisk to convince himself to do it, let alone Keegan or James. Truth be told- oh he’s up!
Boink.
Truth be told this whole thing worked because of Ivan. Not every day you get put on SOTF with the kid who’s spent his entire life prepping to kill you in it so he could go home, let alone walk away from it. Ivan’s the best first victim because of how much of a threat he was, and what sort of message it’s going to send to the others on announcements. He was the best for starting g in 4th gear to send a message, to exist as a tutorial for the other Respects, and to show them just what they’re capable of when they use teamwork.
Real teamwork, not that random shit. Pay attention producers, this is how you write teams.
Fisk was up.
Boink.
Anyone could convince themselves to go for the ten kills. It’s not hard when your life is on the line to throw everyone under the bus. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. But to win by teammates? Impossible. Too many working parts, ulterior motives, incompetency, and a simple refusal to follow orders makes it just impossible for people to work together out of the good of their hearts. And then the natural human phenomenon of crabs in a bucket falls into the mix and you’ve got a few others pulling their team down specifically because they know they won’t make it out, so why should their allies?
Boink.
Cowards the lot of them. But when you put together a like minded organization to work the crowds and assume the means of victory, it becomes a lot easier. The Respects are what happens when people take their fate into their own hands. All they need is someone behind the reigns to give them a good push.
Splash. Aw, he missed. He swam to pick the ball back up.
And that was Fisk. Through his leadership, he’ll insure The Respects make it to the end. He’ll ensure that their names go down in history as pioneers. They’ll have to be allowed to win because their very presence is what will give this season the record views and approval it has been missing. The producers will be committing franchise suicide by denying them that right. Sure, it will take the deaths of his colleagues to bring his team to the end, but that was a sacrifice Fisk was willing to make for the greater good. Some selfish bastards kill so that only they, a singular entity, go home, but Fisk was fighting for the lives of more than his own. His conscience was clear, his heart unclouded. The road to historical immortality was paved in immoralities. Sorry, not sorry.
Fisk realized he had zoned out, staring at the ball in his hands. How long had he been in his own head for? No matter.
“My bad...” Boink. “You’re up!”
“You’re up!”
Y’know, it was pretty easy to fool yourself here. Just going on a cruise to get away from the stresses of modern life. Go swimming, play volleyball with friends, relax...
Go kill some people...
Fisk’s turn. Boink.
Truthfully Fisk couldn’t feel much remorse for what had happened, and he was very thankful that Ivan happened by when he did. He made the whole thing just so easy. It’s not hard to convince people to kill someone when they know that Ivan’d be gunning for all of them had the roles switched. Admittedly, things would’ve been a lot harder had it been someone like Rupert. Someone nicer, more passive, more friendly. Would’ve been hard for Fisk to convince himself to do it, let alone Keegan or James. Truth be told- oh he’s up!
Boink.
Truth be told this whole thing worked because of Ivan. Not every day you get put on SOTF with the kid who’s spent his entire life prepping to kill you in it so he could go home, let alone walk away from it. Ivan’s the best first victim because of how much of a threat he was, and what sort of message it’s going to send to the others on announcements. He was the best for starting g in 4th gear to send a message, to exist as a tutorial for the other Respects, and to show them just what they’re capable of when they use teamwork.
Real teamwork, not that random shit. Pay attention producers, this is how you write teams.
Fisk was up.
Boink.
Anyone could convince themselves to go for the ten kills. It’s not hard when your life is on the line to throw everyone under the bus. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. But to win by teammates? Impossible. Too many working parts, ulterior motives, incompetency, and a simple refusal to follow orders makes it just impossible for people to work together out of the good of their hearts. And then the natural human phenomenon of crabs in a bucket falls into the mix and you’ve got a few others pulling their team down specifically because they know they won’t make it out, so why should their allies?
Boink.
Cowards the lot of them. But when you put together a like minded organization to work the crowds and assume the means of victory, it becomes a lot easier. The Respects are what happens when people take their fate into their own hands. All they need is someone behind the reigns to give them a good push.
Splash. Aw, he missed. He swam to pick the ball back up.
And that was Fisk. Through his leadership, he’ll insure The Respects make it to the end. He’ll ensure that their names go down in history as pioneers. They’ll have to be allowed to win because their very presence is what will give this season the record views and approval it has been missing. The producers will be committing franchise suicide by denying them that right. Sure, it will take the deaths of his colleagues to bring his team to the end, but that was a sacrifice Fisk was willing to make for the greater good. Some selfish bastards kill so that only they, a singular entity, go home, but Fisk was fighting for the lives of more than his own. His conscience was clear, his heart unclouded. The road to historical immortality was paved in immoralities. Sorry, not sorry.
Fisk realized he had zoned out, staring at the ball in his hands. How long had he been in his own head for? No matter.
“My bad...” Boink. “You’re up!”
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
Oh! It’s his turn! Boink!
Vasily shouldn’t have gotten excited about this game. Not the volleyball, although he probably shouldn’t be doing the volleyball thing either- he meant the other game.
He remembered when he first saw Survival of the Fittest.
He was five and a half years old.
It was a new thing, back then. It was a big thing, back then- a slightly smaller thing than today, but it still was a big thing regardless.
Boink.
His mother liked to talk about it like it was something funny- his mom and dad were watching the newest episode, and he wasn’t supposed to be allowed to watch it but he got into the room anyways. She liked to joke about the second when they heard his little feet waddle into the room, big eyes transfixed onto the scene on the screen- one girl straddling another, burying a shiv into her windpipe, slamming the glass down over and over again onto her victim’s throat.
It was funny, actually- maybe it was the juxtaposition between 5 year old Vasily, dressed in his shark hoodie with what dad liked to call the “pinchiest cheeks in the world ” and literal fucking murder.
Boink.
He didn’t think it was funny now. Some guy was going to see him burying Fisk’s shiv into some girl’s throat.
He hoped it didn’t have to be Lucia, but he felt like if there was anyone who should kill her it would be him.
Boink.
Dammit, he told himself to not get lost in contemplation and now he’s bringing up childhood memories like he’s wrapping a noose made of death flags around his neck.
“Don’t apologize for zoning out, you-”
Boink.
Vasily shouldn’t have gotten excited about this game. Not the volleyball, although he probably shouldn’t be doing the volleyball thing either- he meant the other game.
He remembered when he first saw Survival of the Fittest.
He was five and a half years old.
It was a new thing, back then. It was a big thing, back then- a slightly smaller thing than today, but it still was a big thing regardless.
Boink.
His mother liked to talk about it like it was something funny- his mom and dad were watching the newest episode, and he wasn’t supposed to be allowed to watch it but he got into the room anyways. She liked to joke about the second when they heard his little feet waddle into the room, big eyes transfixed onto the scene on the screen- one girl straddling another, burying a shiv into her windpipe, slamming the glass down over and over again onto her victim’s throat.
It was funny, actually- maybe it was the juxtaposition between 5 year old Vasily, dressed in his shark hoodie with what dad liked to call the “pinchiest cheeks in the world ” and literal fucking murder.
Boink.
He didn’t think it was funny now. Some guy was going to see him burying Fisk’s shiv into some girl’s throat.
He hoped it didn’t have to be Lucia, but he felt like if there was anyone who should kill her it would be him.
Boink.
Dammit, he told himself to not get lost in contemplation and now he’s bringing up childhood memories like he’s wrapping a noose made of death flags around his neck.
“Don’t apologize for zoning out, you-”
Boink.
“ I know, it’s just...”
Boink.
“You can’t really get yourself distracted out here. Not even just for your own sake, but, the people next to you.”
Boink.
“it’s one thing if I get myself killed by not paying attention. It’s another entirely if it gets you killed, or Giselle, or James or the others.”
Boink.
“I promised I’d bring you guys to the end. I can’t really do that if I’m stuck in my head the whole time.”
Boink.
Boink.
“You can’t really get yourself distracted out here. Not even just for your own sake, but, the people next to you.”
Boink.
“it’s one thing if I get myself killed by not paying attention. It’s another entirely if it gets you killed, or Giselle, or James or the others.”
Boink.
“I promised I’d bring you guys to the end. I can’t really do that if I’m stuck in my head the whole time.”
Boink.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
"Yeah, I know, I just, like,"
Boink. (Of course he understood.)
"Zoning out is normal,"
Boink. (They deserved better, and they deserved to live a life where they could afford to zone out.)
"And it's not your fault we're not in a normal situation,"
Boink. (But he couldn't say it's the producers' fault, right? They can't fight the producers.)
"And I like that you're trying to help us. I really do."
Boink. (Was he? He didn't trust Fisk. He shouldn't trust everyone.)
"But you're trying to hard. I don't want you to overwork yourself. That can end really badly."
Boink. (After all, it's not like the plan was going to work. The executives won't just kneel to them.)
(Right?)
Boink. (Of course he understood.)
"Zoning out is normal,"
Boink. (They deserved better, and they deserved to live a life where they could afford to zone out.)
"And it's not your fault we're not in a normal situation,"
Boink. (But he couldn't say it's the producers' fault, right? They can't fight the producers.)
"And I like that you're trying to help us. I really do."
Boink. (Was he? He didn't trust Fisk. He shouldn't trust everyone.)
"But you're trying to hard. I don't want you to overwork yourself. That can end really badly."
Boink. (After all, it's not like the plan was going to work. The executives won't just kneel to them.)
(Right?)