((Anton Chevalier continued from Anyone out there?))
The sun was still beating down on Anton as he made his way out into the prairie, the tall and powerfully built boy walking nonstop in a single direction.
He hadn't said a single word since he and Mike left the town. The only noise that emanated from his presence was rhythmic sound of his slow and deliberate march. He still had no idea where they were going, or when they should stop to plan out what to do next. Hell, he hadn't any idea whatsoever what they could do next. Everything Anton had strived for had proven to be a lost cause. He'd barely even woken up, and already half his classmates had decimated themselves.
He couldn't even bring himself to accept the bitter reality that some of his closest friends were now either dead or hunting the rest of his classmates. Every time he tried to look at the bright side, grim thoughts crept him and reminded him of the reality of their situation. Even if he did manage to find a way back home, then what? Would he have to tell his friends familie's about what had happened? Where their families back home even aware of what was going on here? Anton honestly had no way of knowing whether or not the winner would even be allowed back home. It wouldn't surprise him if the plan was to kill off the last survivor anyway, rather than risk sending them back home and grassing them out.
In fact, the more Anton thought about it, the less sense this whole situation made. Why where they specifically taken into the middle of the midwest? How come nobody in the USA were aware that over two-dozen Canadian teenagers were dumped into the middle of the desert to kill each other? How the heck did the guys behind all this fund all the guns and stuff? Not to mention the recreation of an old west town. That must have cost thousands to build all on its own, provided it was as accesible as it looked. And for what? Entertainment? Anton didn't see any cameras, so unless they were especially well hidden that couldn't be the case. Some kind of weird science experiment? That would make a little more sense, but it still wouldn't explain the whole wild west theme. All in all, this entire situation just seemed weirder and more pointless the more Anton thought about it.
Not that it mattered. Whether it was some sick social experiment or messed up form of entertainment (Or hell, even a mix of the two), what mattered now was that no matter how much he thought about it, Anton couldn't think of a single way out of his current predicament. Tania and Tito were both dead, alongside nearly half of his friends and colleagues, and there was nothing Anton could have done to stop it. By this point, he was beginning to wonder whether or not there was even any point in carrying on any longer.
It was at that point that he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes still gazing out into the horizon.
The Long Walk
The Long Walk
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
(BIG MIKE Gibraltar continued from Anyone out there?)
Mike continued to walk forward, as he had been ever since leaving the town. He felt as though he had been walking for hours.
He had left with Anton shortly after Tania's death, and neither boy had spoken a word since leaving the scene. The silence made Mike uncomfortable. It made the desert seem more cruel and unforgiving than it already was.
He had heard the announcements. More people had died, and more people had killed. At least half the class was dead already, and it had only been about a day. Around half of the kids still alive had killed already, and had a good chance of striking again, if the number of multiple-time killers had any significance. Finding allies would be even harder now than it was before.
When Tania's name came up, Mike cringed. He still couldn't get that horrible sight out of his head. The horrified look on her face as the pickaxe met its target. The puddle of acid that her body had fallen into. It was a miracle that he hadn't vomited on the spot. Recalling the tale certainly made his stomach churn, however. And the Sheriff had the gall to crack wise about it! This REALLY pissed off Mike. Teenagers are dying, and he's just talking about them like it's perfectly fine! There are some line that cannot be crossed, and that was certainly one of them!
If I get out of here, I'll be sure to give that waste of a southern accent a nice punch in the nose.
Trying to get his mind off of his deceased classmates, Mike pulled his canteen out of his bag for a drink. After unscrewing his canteen and putting it to his lips, he remembered that his canteen was empty, having been completely drained of water about an hour after he had recieved it.
Oh, well this is just great, isn't it?
Mike noticed that Anton had suddenly stopped walking. He silently stashed his empty canteen back in his bag and walked over to his friend.
"Hey Anton...are you okay, man?"
Mike continued to walk forward, as he had been ever since leaving the town. He felt as though he had been walking for hours.
He had left with Anton shortly after Tania's death, and neither boy had spoken a word since leaving the scene. The silence made Mike uncomfortable. It made the desert seem more cruel and unforgiving than it already was.
He had heard the announcements. More people had died, and more people had killed. At least half the class was dead already, and it had only been about a day. Around half of the kids still alive had killed already, and had a good chance of striking again, if the number of multiple-time killers had any significance. Finding allies would be even harder now than it was before.
When Tania's name came up, Mike cringed. He still couldn't get that horrible sight out of his head. The horrified look on her face as the pickaxe met its target. The puddle of acid that her body had fallen into. It was a miracle that he hadn't vomited on the spot. Recalling the tale certainly made his stomach churn, however. And the Sheriff had the gall to crack wise about it! This REALLY pissed off Mike. Teenagers are dying, and he's just talking about them like it's perfectly fine! There are some line that cannot be crossed, and that was certainly one of them!
If I get out of here, I'll be sure to give that waste of a southern accent a nice punch in the nose.
Trying to get his mind off of his deceased classmates, Mike pulled his canteen out of his bag for a drink. After unscrewing his canteen and putting it to his lips, he remembered that his canteen was empty, having been completely drained of water about an hour after he had recieved it.
Oh, well this is just great, isn't it?
Mike noticed that Anton had suddenly stopped walking. He silently stashed his empty canteen back in his bag and walked over to his friend.
"Hey Anton...are you okay, man?"
-
peregrineink*
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(Brian Larke continued from Far From Home)
Renee was a fool, but it wasn't his job to tell her that. Her priorities clearly lie elsewhere now, and she had no more use for him. What use could he possibly have for her? He tried not to think of it as his feet made their way back to the plains. He did like it out here, in spite of the gristly activity everyone had been charged with. He liked the old timey beauty of it all, and in spite of the dust, he even liked the dry plains. He liked it here.
He looked out at the wavy grasses, and smiled, thinking of a sunset. Thinking of it setting just for him.
....And then he saw the two figures.
"Hey now," he said quietly. Of course it wasn't necessarily just his place, but he like the solitude...he had come here to think, to be alone...why wasn't he just allowed that?
They were the figures of two males, that much was obvious, and something unpleasant stirred in his stomach. He lowered his gun off of his shoulder. There were two together, two. Two together were likely to gang up on his and kill him before he could kill them. That was true. They weren't some soft girl, they weren't someone he probably knew.
His mind was ticking with the possibility. One was huge, that was obvious, but perhaps he could take out the smaller one from a decent distance before the big one could notice, maybe get the bigger one when he's in shock or something.
Two down? How many to go? It didn't matter....Brian had his gun ready, loaded, and wasn't afraid to use it.
If everyone thought he was a horrible killer, perhaps he would prove it to him.
Renee was a fool, but it wasn't his job to tell her that. Her priorities clearly lie elsewhere now, and she had no more use for him. What use could he possibly have for her? He tried not to think of it as his feet made their way back to the plains. He did like it out here, in spite of the gristly activity everyone had been charged with. He liked the old timey beauty of it all, and in spite of the dust, he even liked the dry plains. He liked it here.
He looked out at the wavy grasses, and smiled, thinking of a sunset. Thinking of it setting just for him.
....And then he saw the two figures.
"Hey now," he said quietly. Of course it wasn't necessarily just his place, but he like the solitude...he had come here to think, to be alone...why wasn't he just allowed that?
They were the figures of two males, that much was obvious, and something unpleasant stirred in his stomach. He lowered his gun off of his shoulder. There were two together, two. Two together were likely to gang up on his and kill him before he could kill them. That was true. They weren't some soft girl, they weren't someone he probably knew.
His mind was ticking with the possibility. One was huge, that was obvious, but perhaps he could take out the smaller one from a decent distance before the big one could notice, maybe get the bigger one when he's in shock or something.
Two down? How many to go? It didn't matter....Brian had his gun ready, loaded, and wasn't afraid to use it.
If everyone thought he was a horrible killer, perhaps he would prove it to him.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
(Sorry to break post order, but I'm about two hours away from inactivity, and I really would prefer to retain control over Big Mike.)
As Mike waited for Anton to respond, he gazed upon the scenery in front of him. The sand beneath his feet. The dry grass blowing in the breeze. The blazing sun. It all reminded him of when the game first began. When he first met Anton, Tito, and Tania. When they made a vow to beat the game. All of that happened in the middle of the desert, in a very similar area to where they stood now.
Of course, now only two of them were left. Tito had been killed shortly after he left the group. By an arrow, if the announcement was to be believed. Tania had stuck with the group all the way to the streets of the ghost town. Unfortunately, she had also met with a horrible, nauseating fate that Mike himself had witnessed.
Damn, I wish I could just stop thinking about that.
Now, it was just Mike and Anton. They were both uninjured, and neither of them had been in any fights yet. They were probably in better shape than most of the other survivors. If they can just keep themselves healthy, then they can still succeed in their plan. Even if they were the only ones to escape, at least that would be two students that didn't succumb to a madman's wishes. Even now, Mike held a hope in his heart that they could still pull it off.
But...does Anton still think we can?
As Mike waited for Anton to respond, he gazed upon the scenery in front of him. The sand beneath his feet. The dry grass blowing in the breeze. The blazing sun. It all reminded him of when the game first began. When he first met Anton, Tito, and Tania. When they made a vow to beat the game. All of that happened in the middle of the desert, in a very similar area to where they stood now.
Of course, now only two of them were left. Tito had been killed shortly after he left the group. By an arrow, if the announcement was to be believed. Tania had stuck with the group all the way to the streets of the ghost town. Unfortunately, she had also met with a horrible, nauseating fate that Mike himself had witnessed.
Damn, I wish I could just stop thinking about that.
Now, it was just Mike and Anton. They were both uninjured, and neither of them had been in any fights yet. They were probably in better shape than most of the other survivors. If they can just keep themselves healthy, then they can still succeed in their plan. Even if they were the only ones to escape, at least that would be two students that didn't succumb to a madman's wishes. Even now, Mike held a hope in his heart that they could still pull it off.
But...does Anton still think we can?
Anton didn't immediately acknowledge Big Mike at first.
At that particular moment in time, he was too busy reading his map and trying to figure out their exact location. Whilst orienteering was never really one of his strong points, it didn't take long for Anton to deduce that they were roughly somewhere near the southern boarder of the map. Where exactly and how far from the nearest hospitable building on the other hand was something he didn't get a chance to find out, seeing as a sudden gust of wind caught him off guard and blew the map away. He was about to run after it until he looked down at his compass and realised that the wind was blowing south, taking the map far across the borderline.
As Anton watched the map disappear into the distance, he couldn't help but wonder about what was stopping him from just walking away from this game. It wasn't as if they were on an island, where an impassable sea was stopping them from freedom. As far as Anton could tell, there were no fences blocking their route. No impassable walls or miles of barb wire. The only thing stopping them from just walking away was threat that if they did so, the collars around their necks would kill them. Before, Anton was sceptical about the collars. How the hell could a collar kill you? Sure, maybe a metal one might have a bomb or something that goes off if you leave the area, but these collars were just made of leather. Like the ones you put on dogs. Wow. Never thought about it that way before...
Of course, the fact that it was mentioned several times over the two announcements that the collars had definitely claimed some lives led Anton to suspect that there was some truth to the threats. An honestly, Anton didn't want to take the risk...
...Or did he?
What else could he do? Too many had died to make any kind of rescue feasible, or even worthwhile. His plan to unite his classmates against their enigmatic captors had failed the moment Vienna Gogh got murdered. What else was there to do other than wonder around and wait for someone to kill them? Playing along was completely out of the question. As much as Anton didn't want to, he would rather die then sacrifice his own innocence.
At that moment, Anton found himself fondling the crucifix that hung around his neck, and for the first time in hours a smile found itself on his face and he turned towards Big Mike.
"Sorry man, I was just thinking about... God, I dunno, everything I guess. My family back home mostly. Mom's probably making tea right about now, if she ain't getting all stressed out and stuff. I know Remy's probably getting all worked up. Poor little guy was always so sensitive..."
He sighed deeply to himself, turning to face south before he continued talking.
"I wonder how dad and Didier are handling all this. God knows they're probably worried as all hell. Then again, from all I know, they might not even know anything's wrong at all. Wish I could somehow tell them I'm alright, even if I'd be kinda lying if I did."
He chuckled half-heartedly as he looked up at the empty sky above them.
"Its funny. Despite everything that's happened, you know what I regret the most? Its the fact that I'm not gonna get to see my baby sis grow up. Little Gabrielle always loved painting, you know. I bet she'd of made a great artist."
He sighed again, his gaze returning to the crucifix he wore around his neck as he continued to talk.
"But you know what, I'm actually kinda happy. Not because of what happened or anything, but because I know that once this is all over, I'll finally be reunited with all my friends. I mean, who knows what awesome people I'll get to meet in heaven. John F Kennedy, Martin Luther King, grandpa... Maybe even the big man himself. Whatever happens from now on, the fact that I know that this ain't gonna be the end is enough to keep my spirits up, you know?"
He paused for a moment, staring out at the seemingly endless wasteland before removing his crucifix.
"Here, catch." he said, passing the necklace over to his friend. "Keep it. And remember, when things seem to be at its worth, just squeeze it tight and remind yourself that at least there's still something to look forward to once this is all over."
He smiled again, shortly before turning to face south for the last time.
"Now, uh, I've gotta go grab the map before it gets too far..." he said, walking off in the direction of the border.
See you on the other side Mike. Hell, who knows, maybe these collars aren't actually that dangerous after all...
A dozen or so steps later, Anton finally confirmed the validity of the warnings they were given. However, even as he fell to his knees grasping his neck, the faintest hint of a smile still found itself on his face as he died fully expecting there to be an afterlife waiting for him.
M04: Anton Chevalier - DECEASED
At that particular moment in time, he was too busy reading his map and trying to figure out their exact location. Whilst orienteering was never really one of his strong points, it didn't take long for Anton to deduce that they were roughly somewhere near the southern boarder of the map. Where exactly and how far from the nearest hospitable building on the other hand was something he didn't get a chance to find out, seeing as a sudden gust of wind caught him off guard and blew the map away. He was about to run after it until he looked down at his compass and realised that the wind was blowing south, taking the map far across the borderline.
As Anton watched the map disappear into the distance, he couldn't help but wonder about what was stopping him from just walking away from this game. It wasn't as if they were on an island, where an impassable sea was stopping them from freedom. As far as Anton could tell, there were no fences blocking their route. No impassable walls or miles of barb wire. The only thing stopping them from just walking away was threat that if they did so, the collars around their necks would kill them. Before, Anton was sceptical about the collars. How the hell could a collar kill you? Sure, maybe a metal one might have a bomb or something that goes off if you leave the area, but these collars were just made of leather. Like the ones you put on dogs. Wow. Never thought about it that way before...
Of course, the fact that it was mentioned several times over the two announcements that the collars had definitely claimed some lives led Anton to suspect that there was some truth to the threats. An honestly, Anton didn't want to take the risk...
...Or did he?
What else could he do? Too many had died to make any kind of rescue feasible, or even worthwhile. His plan to unite his classmates against their enigmatic captors had failed the moment Vienna Gogh got murdered. What else was there to do other than wonder around and wait for someone to kill them? Playing along was completely out of the question. As much as Anton didn't want to, he would rather die then sacrifice his own innocence.
At that moment, Anton found himself fondling the crucifix that hung around his neck, and for the first time in hours a smile found itself on his face and he turned towards Big Mike.
"Sorry man, I was just thinking about... God, I dunno, everything I guess. My family back home mostly. Mom's probably making tea right about now, if she ain't getting all stressed out and stuff. I know Remy's probably getting all worked up. Poor little guy was always so sensitive..."
He sighed deeply to himself, turning to face south before he continued talking.
"I wonder how dad and Didier are handling all this. God knows they're probably worried as all hell. Then again, from all I know, they might not even know anything's wrong at all. Wish I could somehow tell them I'm alright, even if I'd be kinda lying if I did."
He chuckled half-heartedly as he looked up at the empty sky above them.
"Its funny. Despite everything that's happened, you know what I regret the most? Its the fact that I'm not gonna get to see my baby sis grow up. Little Gabrielle always loved painting, you know. I bet she'd of made a great artist."
He sighed again, his gaze returning to the crucifix he wore around his neck as he continued to talk.
"But you know what, I'm actually kinda happy. Not because of what happened or anything, but because I know that once this is all over, I'll finally be reunited with all my friends. I mean, who knows what awesome people I'll get to meet in heaven. John F Kennedy, Martin Luther King, grandpa... Maybe even the big man himself. Whatever happens from now on, the fact that I know that this ain't gonna be the end is enough to keep my spirits up, you know?"
He paused for a moment, staring out at the seemingly endless wasteland before removing his crucifix.
"Here, catch." he said, passing the necklace over to his friend. "Keep it. And remember, when things seem to be at its worth, just squeeze it tight and remind yourself that at least there's still something to look forward to once this is all over."
He smiled again, shortly before turning to face south for the last time.
"Now, uh, I've gotta go grab the map before it gets too far..." he said, walking off in the direction of the border.
See you on the other side Mike. Hell, who knows, maybe these collars aren't actually that dangerous after all...
A dozen or so steps later, Anton finally confirmed the validity of the warnings they were given. However, even as he fell to his knees grasping his neck, the faintest hint of a smile still found itself on his face as he died fully expecting there to be an afterlife waiting for him.
M04: Anton Chevalier - DECEASED
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
-
peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
Brian watched in astonishment as the smaller boy literally walked off into the distance and collapsed. Without thinking, Brian found himself moving towards the body- did he have some sort of heart defect? Was it a heart attack? Did kids his age even get those? Until he froze in mid-step, still a safe distance away from any sort of Danger Zone, but with his heart racing at the implications of what he had almost done.
What is wrong with you, Brian? That kid clearly activated the whole collar thing, with the danger zone. It kills you. Do you want that? When you're so close?
He stood there for a moment, oblivious to the larger boy, listening to the sound of his beating heart, thinking about how fucking fragile everything is. How did it work? He almost wanted to turn the kid over and see if it was a shock mechanism, nothing had really popped or anything, but it was good to know just in case. Maybe such knowledge would be useful.
Of course, his plan was shot. With the smaller kid dead, he was just stuck with the bigger kid...just as long as the bigger kid doesn't put the drop on him, Brian might have a chance.
It's not like the big kid had a shotgun or anything.
What is wrong with you, Brian? That kid clearly activated the whole collar thing, with the danger zone. It kills you. Do you want that? When you're so close?
He stood there for a moment, oblivious to the larger boy, listening to the sound of his beating heart, thinking about how fucking fragile everything is. How did it work? He almost wanted to turn the kid over and see if it was a shock mechanism, nothing had really popped or anything, but it was good to know just in case. Maybe such knowledge would be useful.
Of course, his plan was shot. With the smaller kid dead, he was just stuck with the bigger kid...just as long as the bigger kid doesn't put the drop on him, Brian might have a chance.
It's not like the big kid had a shotgun or anything.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
As Mike waited for Anton to respond to him, a sudden wind gust stole away Anton's map and blew it off into the distance.
Oh, that's just great.
After staring into the distance for a while, Mike was relieved to hear Anton start talking again. Anton wasn't talking about their plan to escape, though. He didn't talk about saving the other students, or beating the sheriff at his own game. He just...talked about his family, and how much he missed them, and how they probably didn't even know what had happened to them. Then Anton mentioned how he would never see his little sister grow up, and...
Wait a minute! Is he...is he giving up?
Mike couldn't believe it. Anton had given up. He had resigned to the fact that he was going to die. He was done fighting, he was done running, and he was done with the Sheriff. He was just...done, and somehow, deep down, Mike knew that he wouldn't be able to change his friend's mind.
Anton kept talking, and Mike continued listening. Now, the topic wasnt family, but rather, Heaven. Anton knew that even after they were dead, that it wouldn't be the end. They would still live on in the afterlife, and they could see all of their friends again. Mike would have to admit that, the way Anton puts it, death actually doesn't sound that bad.
"Here, catch."
Mike instinctively threw his hands out in front of himself, and he felt something land softly land in them. He looked down and saw Anton's crucifix resting in his hands.
"Keep it. And remember, when things seem to be at its worth, just squeeze it tight and remind yourself that at least there's still something to look forward to once this is all over."
Mike nodded. Anton had just given him the item that meant the most to him. He knew that it was over for him. Mike watched as Anton walked off in the direction that his map had flown off in. It was a poetic sight, to say the least, as Mike watched the person he had spent his entire time in this western-flavored hellhole with walk off into the sunset. When Anton collapsed to his knees, then completely to the ground, Mike knew that his friend was gone.
Michael Gibraltar was now truly alone.
He placed Anton's crucifix, the final gift that his friend had given him, around his neck. He looked around the area and immediately saw a boy holding a shotgun. The boy's dark brown hair and manner of dress immediately tipped Mike off to the identity of the newcomer.
Brian Larke. Kind of a womanizer, kind of a magician, kind of a...
At that moment, somethin flashed through Big Mike's mind. A memory of the announcements, to be precise.
"Eoin Harper was also shot, but with a good ole' 12 gauge by my new favorite cowboy, Brian Larke"
Kind of a murderer.
Mike's only remaining friend had just died, and now he was standing in the presence of a confirmed killer. A killer with a shotgun. And all he had to defend himself with was a cake. To say that this day sucked would be an understatement.
"Hey, Brian." Mike finally spoke up. "Anton's dead, there's no need to check on him. I'm not looking for any trouble, so if you don't mind, I think I'm going to be on my way.
As Big Mike turned to leave, there was one thought that stuck in his head. A thought that wouldn't go away. A thought that he had to verbalize. He turned back around and looked Brian straight in the eye.
"Why did you shoot Eoin?"
Oh, that's just great.
After staring into the distance for a while, Mike was relieved to hear Anton start talking again. Anton wasn't talking about their plan to escape, though. He didn't talk about saving the other students, or beating the sheriff at his own game. He just...talked about his family, and how much he missed them, and how they probably didn't even know what had happened to them. Then Anton mentioned how he would never see his little sister grow up, and...
Wait a minute! Is he...is he giving up?
Mike couldn't believe it. Anton had given up. He had resigned to the fact that he was going to die. He was done fighting, he was done running, and he was done with the Sheriff. He was just...done, and somehow, deep down, Mike knew that he wouldn't be able to change his friend's mind.
Anton kept talking, and Mike continued listening. Now, the topic wasnt family, but rather, Heaven. Anton knew that even after they were dead, that it wouldn't be the end. They would still live on in the afterlife, and they could see all of their friends again. Mike would have to admit that, the way Anton puts it, death actually doesn't sound that bad.
"Here, catch."
Mike instinctively threw his hands out in front of himself, and he felt something land softly land in them. He looked down and saw Anton's crucifix resting in his hands.
"Keep it. And remember, when things seem to be at its worth, just squeeze it tight and remind yourself that at least there's still something to look forward to once this is all over."
Mike nodded. Anton had just given him the item that meant the most to him. He knew that it was over for him. Mike watched as Anton walked off in the direction that his map had flown off in. It was a poetic sight, to say the least, as Mike watched the person he had spent his entire time in this western-flavored hellhole with walk off into the sunset. When Anton collapsed to his knees, then completely to the ground, Mike knew that his friend was gone.
Michael Gibraltar was now truly alone.
He placed Anton's crucifix, the final gift that his friend had given him, around his neck. He looked around the area and immediately saw a boy holding a shotgun. The boy's dark brown hair and manner of dress immediately tipped Mike off to the identity of the newcomer.
Brian Larke. Kind of a womanizer, kind of a magician, kind of a...
At that moment, somethin flashed through Big Mike's mind. A memory of the announcements, to be precise.
"Eoin Harper was also shot, but with a good ole' 12 gauge by my new favorite cowboy, Brian Larke"
Kind of a murderer.
Mike's only remaining friend had just died, and now he was standing in the presence of a confirmed killer. A killer with a shotgun. And all he had to defend himself with was a cake. To say that this day sucked would be an understatement.
"Hey, Brian." Mike finally spoke up. "Anton's dead, there's no need to check on him. I'm not looking for any trouble, so if you don't mind, I think I'm going to be on my way.
As Big Mike turned to leave, there was one thought that stuck in his head. A thought that wouldn't go away. A thought that he had to verbalize. He turned back around and looked Brian straight in the eye.
"Why did you shoot Eoin?"
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
Brian found himself caught a little off guard there.
"Why did you shoot Eoin?"
Had anyone actually stopped to really ask him? He supposed not, they hadn't really had to, Brian loved to share his thought process to anyone willing to listen, and they were usually girls. It was strange to stand here talking to a boy about murder.
Brian Larke had had male friends in the past, her certainly had, a quiet kid in the corner that would listen to his latest exploits and conquests somehow just sort of melting away and not really talking to him anymore after he said that Brian's little sister was cute, he remembered a louder, crazier, more brash friend who had given him advice on girls, but he was gone now, joining the military right after graduating. Had they really all just sort of disappeared?
"I think the question you should ask yourself is why aren't you shooting anyone? I've told so many people this outlook, and suddenly I'm the monster. Do you think that taking a better, pacifistic stance in a game where we were effectively placed in a death camp and are told to go nuts is a good strategy for you? How many of us started, and how many of us are left? Do you really think we're all going to go home? I killed Eoin because I looked at his face and knew that he was a weak link I could exploit. I pulled that trigger because I knew that in the grand scheme of things, he was something I could afford to lose, and it turns out in this game, you lose everything anyway."
Brian's face was unreadable as he spoke, and his voice was laced with bitterness.
"So, what's your plan here, from now on? Are you going to stand by and wait for one of us to get you? Because I guarantee that if it isn't me, it'll be someone else."
"Why did you shoot Eoin?"
Had anyone actually stopped to really ask him? He supposed not, they hadn't really had to, Brian loved to share his thought process to anyone willing to listen, and they were usually girls. It was strange to stand here talking to a boy about murder.
Brian Larke had had male friends in the past, her certainly had, a quiet kid in the corner that would listen to his latest exploits and conquests somehow just sort of melting away and not really talking to him anymore after he said that Brian's little sister was cute, he remembered a louder, crazier, more brash friend who had given him advice on girls, but he was gone now, joining the military right after graduating. Had they really all just sort of disappeared?
"I think the question you should ask yourself is why aren't you shooting anyone? I've told so many people this outlook, and suddenly I'm the monster. Do you think that taking a better, pacifistic stance in a game where we were effectively placed in a death camp and are told to go nuts is a good strategy for you? How many of us started, and how many of us are left? Do you really think we're all going to go home? I killed Eoin because I looked at his face and knew that he was a weak link I could exploit. I pulled that trigger because I knew that in the grand scheme of things, he was something I could afford to lose, and it turns out in this game, you lose everything anyway."
Brian's face was unreadable as he spoke, and his voice was laced with bitterness.
"So, what's your plan here, from now on? Are you going to stand by and wait for one of us to get you? Because I guarantee that if it isn't me, it'll be someone else."
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(GMing aproved by peregrineink)
Mike looked at Brian, listening intently as the womanizer-turned-killer explained his reasons for killing. As Brian spoke, Mike honed in on a few key phrases.
"I think the question you should ask yourself is why aren't you shooting anyone?"
"Do you really think we're all going to go home?"
"I killed Eoin because I looked at his face and knew that he was a weak link I could exploit."
After Brian finished speaking, Mike found himself very angry at the boy standing before him. Mike had spent his entire time in the desert trying to figure out a way to get people home safely, while Brian, on the other hand, was killing people without remorse. The thought made the hockey player sick to his stomach.
"First of all," Mike started, looking Brian dead in the eyes and sounding quite irritated, "I'm not shooting people because I don't think that life is something that should just be stolen away. Also, unlike you, who clearly pulled a shotgun out of your pack, I'm packing a birthday cake, of all things." Mike pulled his boxed cake out of his pack as proof. "See? Not everyone got an instrument of death. Some of us got dessert."
Mike cleared his throat. The desert air was starting to get to him. "Secondly, I did want everyine to get home safe. I figured that there must be some way around the game, or some way to beat the system. Turns out I was wrong. Sue me."
Mike coughed one final time. "Third, I know that I'm probably going to die. However, I'm less afraid of it at this point, because I know that at least I'll have something to look forward to afterwards." Mike took a quick look at Anton's body before continuing his speech. "But I do know one thing. I'm not gonna let you kill anyone else."
As soon as the last words left his mouth, Big Mike rushed towards Brian, cake in hand, ready to attack. As he sprinted, he focused entirely on the boy in front of him, who seemed to be surprised by the sudden charge. With all his might, he swung the cake at Brian's face once he got within arm's reach.
Here goes nothing!
Big Mike felt the cake collide with Brian's face, having been ripped from his hands on impact. Whatever hadn't stuck to the shotgun-wielding teen's face had fallen to the ground, now sandy and completely inedible.
Now that's what I call getting your just desserts.
Smirking slightly at his bad pun, Mike turned around to get a good look at Brian. To his surprise, his opponent had dropped his shotgun after being hit. Mike saw this as an opporitunity, diving for the shotgun and grabbing it. Not even thinking of using it, he chucked the powerful weapon in the direction of Anton's body, landing out of bounds. Now, Brian couldn't reach his shotgun anymore, and as a result, wouldn't be able to kill anyone else with it.
Well, would you look at that. You done good, Big Mike. You done good.
Big Mike continued to look into the distance, not paying attention to the disarmed, cake-faced, and thoroughly pissed-off boy behind him.
Mike looked at Brian, listening intently as the womanizer-turned-killer explained his reasons for killing. As Brian spoke, Mike honed in on a few key phrases.
"I think the question you should ask yourself is why aren't you shooting anyone?"
"Do you really think we're all going to go home?"
"I killed Eoin because I looked at his face and knew that he was a weak link I could exploit."
After Brian finished speaking, Mike found himself very angry at the boy standing before him. Mike had spent his entire time in the desert trying to figure out a way to get people home safely, while Brian, on the other hand, was killing people without remorse. The thought made the hockey player sick to his stomach.
"First of all," Mike started, looking Brian dead in the eyes and sounding quite irritated, "I'm not shooting people because I don't think that life is something that should just be stolen away. Also, unlike you, who clearly pulled a shotgun out of your pack, I'm packing a birthday cake, of all things." Mike pulled his boxed cake out of his pack as proof. "See? Not everyone got an instrument of death. Some of us got dessert."
Mike cleared his throat. The desert air was starting to get to him. "Secondly, I did want everyine to get home safe. I figured that there must be some way around the game, or some way to beat the system. Turns out I was wrong. Sue me."
Mike coughed one final time. "Third, I know that I'm probably going to die. However, I'm less afraid of it at this point, because I know that at least I'll have something to look forward to afterwards." Mike took a quick look at Anton's body before continuing his speech. "But I do know one thing. I'm not gonna let you kill anyone else."
As soon as the last words left his mouth, Big Mike rushed towards Brian, cake in hand, ready to attack. As he sprinted, he focused entirely on the boy in front of him, who seemed to be surprised by the sudden charge. With all his might, he swung the cake at Brian's face once he got within arm's reach.
Here goes nothing!
Big Mike felt the cake collide with Brian's face, having been ripped from his hands on impact. Whatever hadn't stuck to the shotgun-wielding teen's face had fallen to the ground, now sandy and completely inedible.
Now that's what I call getting your just desserts.
Smirking slightly at his bad pun, Mike turned around to get a good look at Brian. To his surprise, his opponent had dropped his shotgun after being hit. Mike saw this as an opporitunity, diving for the shotgun and grabbing it. Not even thinking of using it, he chucked the powerful weapon in the direction of Anton's body, landing out of bounds. Now, Brian couldn't reach his shotgun anymore, and as a result, wouldn't be able to kill anyone else with it.
Well, would you look at that. You done good, Big Mike. You done good.
Big Mike continued to look into the distance, not paying attention to the disarmed, cake-faced, and thoroughly pissed-off boy behind him.
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
There was cake in Brian's face. It felt weird.
He had never had cake in his face before.
That wasn't nearly as important as his shotgun being thrown so clearly out of bounds. He watched it land with a thump. A horrible thump. His shotgun was the important thing. His shotgun was his safety. His shotgun was what was going to save his life.
"You think you're going to die?" Brian asked slowly, knowing how ridiculous he looked speaking through cake and layers of icing. "Then why. don't. you. die!?"
He didn't know what happened next, only that his anger was murderous, and boiling inside of him. He lunged for the larger boy. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could just kill the boy with his bare hands.
Maybe I can go for the collar.
So go for the collar he did.
He had never had cake in his face before.
That wasn't nearly as important as his shotgun being thrown so clearly out of bounds. He watched it land with a thump. A horrible thump. His shotgun was the important thing. His shotgun was his safety. His shotgun was what was going to save his life.
"You think you're going to die?" Brian asked slowly, knowing how ridiculous he looked speaking through cake and layers of icing. "Then why. don't. you. die!?"
He didn't know what happened next, only that his anger was murderous, and boiling inside of him. He lunged for the larger boy. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could just kill the boy with his bare hands.
Maybe I can go for the collar.
So go for the collar he did.
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As Big Mike stared out into the horizon, he was suddenly snapped back to reality by a voice ringing out behind him.
"You think that you're going to die? Then why. don't. you. die!?"
As soon as he turned around, he saw Brian, his face crazed and coated in icing, lunging at him. Before he even had a chance to react, Brian had grabbed ahold of his collar and given it a nice, hard pull. The collar unleashed blades that immediately dug themselves into Mike's neck. The agonizing pain caused him to drop to the ground, rolling onto his back. He knew that it was over. He was going to die. He would never goof off with his friends again. He would never see his grandparents again. He would never become a hockey player, doctor, or seamstress.
But somehow, deep down, that didn't really matter too much.
Mike had been thrown into a scenario where he was expected to kill his classmates for a chance at freedom, but he refused to do so. He stuck by his morals all the way to the bitter end. He even had a prime opporitunity to kill Brian a few moments ago, and he just let it go by, because he was not a killer, and he never could be. So many people had lost themselves to the Sheriff's game, but he hadn't. He was still Michael Gibraltar, Big Mike to his friends, and he always would be. He hadn't lost himself, and he saw that as a true victory.
As he felt his strength slipping away rapidly, he brought his hand to his chest and grasped the crucifix that hung from his neck. As he did so, Anton's words echoed through his head.
Whatever happens from now on, the fact that I know that this ain't gonna be the end is enough to keep my spirits up, you know?
As he faced towards the heavens, Big Mike felt comfortable. This wasn't where it ended. He knew his final destination, and he was ready to go.
Mere moments later, Big Mike silently drifted away. His final thought was not or revenge or regret, but rather, humor.
When I get to Heaven, I am so telling Anton that I threw a cake at Brian.
M17: MICHAEL "BIG MIKE" GIBRALTAR - DECEASED
7 STUDENTS REMAINING
"You think that you're going to die? Then why. don't. you. die!?"
As soon as he turned around, he saw Brian, his face crazed and coated in icing, lunging at him. Before he even had a chance to react, Brian had grabbed ahold of his collar and given it a nice, hard pull. The collar unleashed blades that immediately dug themselves into Mike's neck. The agonizing pain caused him to drop to the ground, rolling onto his back. He knew that it was over. He was going to die. He would never goof off with his friends again. He would never see his grandparents again. He would never become a hockey player, doctor, or seamstress.
But somehow, deep down, that didn't really matter too much.
Mike had been thrown into a scenario where he was expected to kill his classmates for a chance at freedom, but he refused to do so. He stuck by his morals all the way to the bitter end. He even had a prime opporitunity to kill Brian a few moments ago, and he just let it go by, because he was not a killer, and he never could be. So many people had lost themselves to the Sheriff's game, but he hadn't. He was still Michael Gibraltar, Big Mike to his friends, and he always would be. He hadn't lost himself, and he saw that as a true victory.
As he felt his strength slipping away rapidly, he brought his hand to his chest and grasped the crucifix that hung from his neck. As he did so, Anton's words echoed through his head.
Whatever happens from now on, the fact that I know that this ain't gonna be the end is enough to keep my spirits up, you know?
As he faced towards the heavens, Big Mike felt comfortable. This wasn't where it ended. He knew his final destination, and he was ready to go.
Mere moments later, Big Mike silently drifted away. His final thought was not or revenge or regret, but rather, humor.
When I get to Heaven, I am so telling Anton that I threw a cake at Brian.
M17: MICHAEL "BIG MIKE" GIBRALTAR - DECEASED
7 STUDENTS REMAINING
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
The big guy lay dead at his feet.
Brian didn't really care about anything.
His shotgun lie right over near Anton. He couldn't particularly tell if it was in the danger zone or not, depending on the angle.
He wondered what would happened if people had opportunity to watch him. He didn't think about the dead people, they couldn't watch anything. He didn't think about Vivian or anyone else who had died. He only thought about his father. Would his father be disappointed in him that he had given into murder so quickly? Or would he be proud that he had taken so much initiative?
It didn't really matter, it wouldn't matter, unless he got out of there.
Brian gave a sigh, wondering just what to do at his new predicament.
This in itself didn't matter, as the announcements went off announcing his potential death where he stood.
He had no choice.
Wiping icing from his face Brian high tailed it....to the Ghost town.
(Brian Larke continued elsewhere.)
Brian didn't really care about anything.
His shotgun lie right over near Anton. He couldn't particularly tell if it was in the danger zone or not, depending on the angle.
He wondered what would happened if people had opportunity to watch him. He didn't think about the dead people, they couldn't watch anything. He didn't think about Vivian or anyone else who had died. He only thought about his father. Would his father be disappointed in him that he had given into murder so quickly? Or would he be proud that he had taken so much initiative?
It didn't really matter, it wouldn't matter, unless he got out of there.
Brian gave a sigh, wondering just what to do at his new predicament.
This in itself didn't matter, as the announcements went off announcing his potential death where he stood.
He had no choice.
Wiping icing from his face Brian high tailed it....to the Ghost town.
(Brian Larke continued elsewhere.)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.