((Glen Bole continued from Finders Keepers))
After his little... encounter back at the beach, Glen had hurried back to the rain forest, back the way he came. It seemed like the safest place to go at the time; plenty of places to hide, which meant he’d be able to get some sleep. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case. The ground was, to Glen’s annoyance, still covered in vines, making sleep virtually impossible. He considered, and attempted, climbing one of the trees but this resulted, yet again, in Glen falling to the ground after only just grabbing hold of the lowest branch, then falling off. Eventually, he found a patch of ground that wasn’t too uncomfortable, but just as he was about to drift off to sleep, what d’you know, announcement. Sitting on the ground with his back to a tree, Glen’s mood grew worse and worse as the announcement dragged on, although this time, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the fact that so many easy targets had already been taken down. Lou and Harold were both humungous freaks of nature, and Glen was surprised to hear they hadn’t committed suicide due to the lack of McDonalds and shit on the island. He was also surprised to hear that geeky little Zachariah Johnston had killed already, but Glen guessed he’d found Harold already at the verge of death, and managed to finish him off.
Holly Stupid-Fucking-Last-Name was dead as well. Glen had always secretly hoped she’s go on some drug fuelled rampage, but she had been killed, so that was slightly unlikely. Glen had also been filled with fear, as well as anger. Kevin Fielding, Glen’s least favourite person at school (which was saying a lot), was on the island, killing people. Glen had no doubts he was on Kevin’s list. But what really pissed Glen off was the fact that the first person he’d met on the island was dead, and that he wasn’t the one who’d killed him. Glen couldn’t help but wince when he heard how Bob had died. As soon as the announcements were over, Glen had sighed, resigned himself to the fact he wasn’t going to get any sleep, and headed deeper into the rain forest.
So that was how Glen had arrived at the volcano, having had no sleep for almost two whole days. He was angry, waaay too hot, and tired. God damn it, was he fucking tired. His medical supplies were gone, he’d lost a potential useful pair of items, and he was carrying a fucking cardboard box of Styrofoam peanuts. Slumping to the ground, he threw the box in front of him, which, rather embarrassingly, only flew a couple of centimetres away. Jesus, I really am tired. Fucking announcements. Fucking... whassisname, orange dude. Fucking cardboard box. Why the fuck did I even take you?
Looking around now, Glen only just fathomed exactly where he was. He’d known it was there, but actually walking on a real volcano was incredibly different to hearing about one. If Glen hadn’t been currently trying to kill or be killed, he’d have marvelled at the volcano itself, or the fact that the rain forest stretched for miles around it. But the only thing he could currently concentrate on was just how fucking hot it was. He’d thought the rain forest was hot, but this was just fucking ridiculous. And it was possibly the thing that sent him over the edge. The heat, the people trying to kill him, the encounter with Suzanne, everything just built up, until Glen leapt from his seat, grabbing the tree branch, striding towards the cardboard box. In his mind Glen imagined various faces on the box. Kevin Fielding. Orange-bandana guy. Suzanne who-gives-a-fuck. Bob Lazenby. Letting out a roar of fury, Glen swung the branch over his head, down onto the box. Peanuts spilled everywhere, as the top of the box buckled under the blow.
For the next few minutes, Glen did nothing but hit the box, endlessly swinging, his anger rising above his tiredness. Eventually, when the box no longer resembled a box, did Glen stop, leaning on the branch, feeling slightly dizzy due to the heat and the exertion. But he wasn’t finished yet. He positioned himself so that the box was between him and the crater of the volcano. Panting heavily, Glen hefted the branch onto his shoulder, like a golfer, before swinging it at the box. The two connected, and the box flew into the gaping hole before him, little bits of Styrofoam flying out behind it as it fell.
Glen watched the box disappear into the volcano, before returning to where he’d left his bag. Sitting down, he tilted his head back, sighed, and said “Jesus Christ, I needed that.” Looking back down, Glen realised his shirt was drenched in sweat. Opening his bag, he prodded his hoody and basketball top, to find they were still wet from yesterday. That left the outfit Glen had now identified as a Batman costume, or the pink, heart emblazoned t-shirt. Glen pulled them both out, considering wearing either for half a second, before a much better plan came to his mind. He scrunched his team t-shirt into a ball, throwing it too into the crater, before throwing the Batman costume back into the bag, and taking off the top he was currently wearing. There. Sorted. Much cooler this way, and it’ll give any female viewers something to look at. Even with this extra measure, however, Glen was still ridiculously hot. Reaching into the still-open bag, he pulled out one of the water bottles, and started drinking heavily from it.
If You Can't Stand The Heat
Open
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Little Boy*
- Posts: 102
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 5:35 am
((Jonas Jeffries' continues from Magical Bunny Girl Warrior Chan
Jonas stumbled through the woods, like a drunken idiot. He'd been running scared since the cruise ship, alternating between running and collapsing. His face was streaked with sweat, and he stunk terribly.
"Oh Gog, oh Jebus, oh God, oh sweet Gog-"
His nose had swollen up and it was hard to talk, he repeated his mantra as he trekked through the woods, Uzi in hand. The announcement had gone off at some point- announcing to the world that he was now a cold blooded killer.
Yeah, right.
Jonas was nearly pooping his pants with fright. Still, he pressed on. If he slowed down, he'd be caught by some vengeful friend, or some homicidal maniac. And then he'd be dead. And Jonas hated nothing more then being dead.
Finally, the trees parted away and the air itself seemed to explode with heat. Jonas stopped, ripping off his sweat and shirt, tossing them in a pile with his things. Standing shirtless, the skinny boy sniffed and awkwardly poked his nose, checking his injury.
"Summuva Bech-"
What now? What now, what now?
Jonas eyes flickered up- and widened as he spotted a figure across the way, crouching and drinking a water bottle. In a flash his gun was up, aiming down the sights at the boy in the pink band-
NO.
NO NO NO NO-
With every last bit of sense left in him, Jonas let out a yelp, keeping his finger off the trigger. He stumbled backwards in a panic, collapse on the floor, his pink bandanna falling down to cover his eyes.
PINK! HE'S PINK! PINK, THAT'S ME, WE'RE PINK!
Jonas began to laugh, despite everything. He finally had a shot. Raising the bandanna, Jonas began to shout and holler at the other boy, waving his Uzi up over his head.
"HEY! YOU! HEYYYYYYYY!"
Jonas stumbled through the woods, like a drunken idiot. He'd been running scared since the cruise ship, alternating between running and collapsing. His face was streaked with sweat, and he stunk terribly.
"Oh Gog, oh Jebus, oh God, oh sweet Gog-"
His nose had swollen up and it was hard to talk, he repeated his mantra as he trekked through the woods, Uzi in hand. The announcement had gone off at some point- announcing to the world that he was now a cold blooded killer.
Yeah, right.
Jonas was nearly pooping his pants with fright. Still, he pressed on. If he slowed down, he'd be caught by some vengeful friend, or some homicidal maniac. And then he'd be dead. And Jonas hated nothing more then being dead.
Finally, the trees parted away and the air itself seemed to explode with heat. Jonas stopped, ripping off his sweat and shirt, tossing them in a pile with his things. Standing shirtless, the skinny boy sniffed and awkwardly poked his nose, checking his injury.
"Summuva Bech-"
What now? What now, what now?
Jonas eyes flickered up- and widened as he spotted a figure across the way, crouching and drinking a water bottle. In a flash his gun was up, aiming down the sights at the boy in the pink band-
NO.
NO NO NO NO-
With every last bit of sense left in him, Jonas let out a yelp, keeping his finger off the trigger. He stumbled backwards in a panic, collapse on the floor, his pink bandanna falling down to cover his eyes.
PINK! HE'S PINK! PINK, THAT'S ME, WE'RE PINK!
Jonas began to laugh, despite everything. He finally had a shot. Raising the bandanna, Jonas began to shout and holler at the other boy, waving his Uzi up over his head.
"HEY! YOU! HEYYYYYYYY!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1121
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
The almost-calm of the Hot Spot was broken by Jonas’ yelling, and in his surprise, Glen whipped his head round to face him, spraying a mouthful of water onto the ground in the process. His brief look of surprise, however, changed into a grin almost instantaneously. Seriously? This fucker have a death wish or something? Ah well, not my problem, is it?
Glen quickly grabbed his shotgun, swinging it up so it was pointed directly at the other boy’s face. This time, he wouldn’t make any mistakes. His finger curling round the trigger, Glen squinted to get a better look at the hollering figure.
Good thing he did, or else Glen would have made a worse mistake than failing to shoot anyone.
First thing Glen noticed was the gun the guy was waving. He didn’t know a thing about weapons, but hey, a gun was a gun. They weren’t too hard to figure out. That was enough to make Glen lower the shotgun. Only then did he notice the colour of Jonas’ bandana.
All-fucking-right, someone else on pink team! And they’ve got some firepower! But... he’d better fucking listen to me. And if he doesn’t, well... let’s see how he likes getting shot in the face...
Glen didn’t recognise the guy from where he was, so he ran over to him. He still didn’t recognise him, and Glen knew most people from school. Must be a guy from that Detroit place. On closer inspection, Glen was slightly disappointed. The gun was still intimidating, but the boy himself was not. He was small, and looked extremely nervous and twitchy. Great. It could have been worse though. At least it wasn’t Kevin Fielding, or someone like that.
“So, I’m guessing you’re from that Detroit place, huh?” Glen tried to speak as politely as possible, but polite was not something Glen was used to. The guy deserved a small amount of respect, due to the gun and all, but Glen couldn’t help but keep a slightly smug tone to his voice. “Name’s Glen. I guess we’re in the same team, huh? You’d better be able to use that thing-“ At this, Glen pointed at Jonas’ gun. “-Or I won’t hesitate to abandon you, team or no team.”
At the mention of the word team, Glen instinctively reached up to slightly adjust, and as he did so, his hand brushed against his nose, sending a jolt of pain through his body, causing Glen to let out a small yelp. It was definitely broken, and he could feel dried blood around it.
“Hey, uh, dude?” Glen asked “You got your first-aid kit still? Cause I’ve kinda fucked up my nose pretty bad” Glen realised he hadn’t asked for the boy’s name, but to be completely honest, he didn’t really care.
Glen quickly grabbed his shotgun, swinging it up so it was pointed directly at the other boy’s face. This time, he wouldn’t make any mistakes. His finger curling round the trigger, Glen squinted to get a better look at the hollering figure.
Good thing he did, or else Glen would have made a worse mistake than failing to shoot anyone.
First thing Glen noticed was the gun the guy was waving. He didn’t know a thing about weapons, but hey, a gun was a gun. They weren’t too hard to figure out. That was enough to make Glen lower the shotgun. Only then did he notice the colour of Jonas’ bandana.
All-fucking-right, someone else on pink team! And they’ve got some firepower! But... he’d better fucking listen to me. And if he doesn’t, well... let’s see how he likes getting shot in the face...
Glen didn’t recognise the guy from where he was, so he ran over to him. He still didn’t recognise him, and Glen knew most people from school. Must be a guy from that Detroit place. On closer inspection, Glen was slightly disappointed. The gun was still intimidating, but the boy himself was not. He was small, and looked extremely nervous and twitchy. Great. It could have been worse though. At least it wasn’t Kevin Fielding, or someone like that.
“So, I’m guessing you’re from that Detroit place, huh?” Glen tried to speak as politely as possible, but polite was not something Glen was used to. The guy deserved a small amount of respect, due to the gun and all, but Glen couldn’t help but keep a slightly smug tone to his voice. “Name’s Glen. I guess we’re in the same team, huh? You’d better be able to use that thing-“ At this, Glen pointed at Jonas’ gun. “-Or I won’t hesitate to abandon you, team or no team.”
At the mention of the word team, Glen instinctively reached up to slightly adjust, and as he did so, his hand brushed against his nose, sending a jolt of pain through his body, causing Glen to let out a small yelp. It was definitely broken, and he could feel dried blood around it.
“Hey, uh, dude?” Glen asked “You got your first-aid kit still? Cause I’ve kinda fucked up my nose pretty bad” Glen realised he hadn’t asked for the boy’s name, but to be completely honest, he didn’t really care.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
A voice echoes from both collars...
"Um, hey, guys. You're doing really well, uh, cooperating. Good job. Keep it up. And, uh, please don't really abandon him. Anyways, good luck!"
"Um, hey, guys. You're doing really well, uh, cooperating. Good job. Keep it up. And, uh, please don't really abandon him. Anyways, good luck!"
The same voice echoes from both collars again one minute later...
"Oh, uh hello again. I forgot to ask, but um, would one of you boys mind putting on a shirt? People are calling Pink the um, well... 'Gay Team' - err, I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that, um, if you are. Uh yeah, that's all. Take care."
"Oh, uh hello again. I forgot to ask, but um, would one of you boys mind putting on a shirt? People are calling Pink the um, well... 'Gay Team' - err, I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that, um, if you are. Uh yeah, that's all. Take care."
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Little Boy*
- Posts: 102
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 5:35 am
Jonas nearly pissed himself in fright as the boy whipped his gun around, pointing it directly at his head. He stumbled back a step, his mouth open in a stupid stare. For a split second, he thought that was it, the end of the line. A shitty run to start with, and a hilarious way to end it. A suitable death for someone like him.
But it only lasted a second- the boy was evidently as scared as he was. The gun dropped and Jonas let out a sigh of relief as his teammate walked over toward him.
“So, I’m guessing you’re from that Detroit place, huh?”
Jonas bobbed his up and down. He glanced at the boys weapon with envy. An honest to god shotgun. Definitely something useful, and judging by the fact he'd been at the wrong end of it just a few moments ago, the kid looked like he had no qualms with using it.
I wonder if he's killed anybody...
The thought felt sort of wrong. He pictured that boy from earlier, plummeting off the railing, literally riddled with bullet holes. It had been a mistake, but it wasn't like he was about to mourn the guy or anything. Jonas didn't know if there was a heaven or hell. He thought more along the lines of 'If you can get away with it, do it.' Something told him he'd get away with the murder, at least here.
Another strange thought. He shrugged it off.
“Name’s Glen. I guess we’re in the same team, huh? You’d better be able to use that thing- Or I won’t hesitate to abandon you, team or no team.”
Jonas chuckled slightly at that. He raised up the Uzi, admiring it, pretending he knew what the hell he was doing.
"Dobn't worry. I gob' one kill alreby." He smirked, looking over at Glen.
Suddenly he remembered Isaac. And more importantly, his bandanna. He twitched, dropping his gun back down to his side.
Great, great, I get to be the bearer of bad news, that's just great-
"Er... I 'tink we're alreby down one teammade." He said hesitantly. He paused, wondering just how exactly he should put this. "I woke ub and uh, found 'dis guy. Isaac. He was from my school. Yeah... He got totally fugged up. So we're down to four, as long as no one else ib dead. I really hope not."
Cus if anyone else is dead, we're as good as fucked at this point...
“Hey, uh, dude? You got your first-aid kit still? Cause I’ve kinda fucked up my nose pretty bad.”
Jonas blinked. He dropped his kit, fishing it out of his bag. His own nose was red and swollen still, from Vincent's suckerpunch. He trembled and twitched ever so slightly with rage at the memory.
"Yah, me too. I gob clogged in da face earlier-"
Suddenly, there was another voice. Jonas' head shot up, looking around the area. There was no one, that meant it was-
MY COLLAR!
Well. That was barely useful. Jonas looked toward Glen.
Jonas eyes went wide. He looked over at the shirtless Glen, then down to his own scrawny frame.
"Err..."
Jonas opened the kit then stood, taking a step away from Glen.
"Yeah."
Well, this is awkward.
But it only lasted a second- the boy was evidently as scared as he was. The gun dropped and Jonas let out a sigh of relief as his teammate walked over toward him.
“So, I’m guessing you’re from that Detroit place, huh?”
Jonas bobbed his up and down. He glanced at the boys weapon with envy. An honest to god shotgun. Definitely something useful, and judging by the fact he'd been at the wrong end of it just a few moments ago, the kid looked like he had no qualms with using it.
I wonder if he's killed anybody...
The thought felt sort of wrong. He pictured that boy from earlier, plummeting off the railing, literally riddled with bullet holes. It had been a mistake, but it wasn't like he was about to mourn the guy or anything. Jonas didn't know if there was a heaven or hell. He thought more along the lines of 'If you can get away with it, do it.' Something told him he'd get away with the murder, at least here.
Another strange thought. He shrugged it off.
“Name’s Glen. I guess we’re in the same team, huh? You’d better be able to use that thing- Or I won’t hesitate to abandon you, team or no team.”
Jonas chuckled slightly at that. He raised up the Uzi, admiring it, pretending he knew what the hell he was doing.
"Dobn't worry. I gob' one kill alreby." He smirked, looking over at Glen.
Suddenly he remembered Isaac. And more importantly, his bandanna. He twitched, dropping his gun back down to his side.
Great, great, I get to be the bearer of bad news, that's just great-
"Er... I 'tink we're alreby down one teammade." He said hesitantly. He paused, wondering just how exactly he should put this. "I woke ub and uh, found 'dis guy. Isaac. He was from my school. Yeah... He got totally fugged up. So we're down to four, as long as no one else ib dead. I really hope not."
Cus if anyone else is dead, we're as good as fucked at this point...
“Hey, uh, dude? You got your first-aid kit still? Cause I’ve kinda fucked up my nose pretty bad.”
Jonas blinked. He dropped his kit, fishing it out of his bag. His own nose was red and swollen still, from Vincent's suckerpunch. He trembled and twitched ever so slightly with rage at the memory.
"Yah, me too. I gob clogged in da face earlier-"
Suddenly, there was another voice. Jonas' head shot up, looking around the area. There was no one, that meant it was-
MY COLLAR!
"Um, hey, guys. You're doing really well, uh, cooperating. Good job. Keep it up. And, uh, please don't really abandon him. Anyways, good luck!"
Well. That was barely useful. Jonas looked toward Glen.
"Oh, uh hello again. I forgot to ask, but um, would one of you boys mind putting on a shirt? People are calling Pink the um, well... 'Gay Team' - err, I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that, um, if you are. Uh yeah, that's all. Take care."
Jonas eyes went wide. He looked over at the shirtless Glen, then down to his own scrawny frame.
"Err..."
Jonas opened the kit then stood, taking a step away from Glen.
"Yeah."
Well, this is awkward.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
((Todd Hudson continued from Just a Quick Swim))
After wasting several hours of his life chasing after a monkey, Todd Hudson suddenly stopped the moment he realised that he'd completely ran out of breath.
The fact that he also tumbled over an overturned tree happened to be a coincidence.
Tired, filthy, and completely butt naked, Todd was far from the paragon of sexiness he was before he found himself on this stupid island. His once awesome haircut was now nothing more than a long lifeless fringe. His once spotless skin was covered in dirt, muck and bruises from the many times he'd fallen over. His tongue prodded the empty spot in his mouth where his tooth used to be, a painful reminder of the FIRST asshat he bumped into on the island.
Groooowl...
And now, to make things infinitely worse, Todd realised that he was absolutely starving.
Oh gooood, I need food! Anything! Jesus fuckin' Christ, you'd of thought that it'd be easy finding something to eat IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GODDAMN JUNGLE!
The way in which the young boy searched on all fours along the jungle floor distinctly resembled an animal scavenging for food, his dishevelled hair and lack of clothing only adding to the effect. He spent what must have been an entire hour looking for sustenance of some description. Some berries, maybe an edible root of some description. Heck, at this point, he was perfectly willing to much down on some small helpless rodent if it meant a bite to eat. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find anything remotely edible. Not even as he searched the nearest bushes for weird fruit, or when he desperately dug up the ground looking for edible grubs, none of this foraging resulted in him finding anything that could remotely resemble a decent meal.
For as long as Todd could remember, things like food and shelter had always been given to him on a silver platter. Never in his life had he ever gone a full day without food or a roof over his head at some point, nor had he ever had to worry about things like first aid or finding something to wear. In a way, his tenure on the island was an entirely new experience. It had allowed him to experience what it was like on the edge, living in the wilderness with nothing to rely on apart from his keen wit and incomparable intellect. But did that thought comfort him in the slightest?
No. Not even a little.
AARGH! Stupid fucking jungle! Stupid fucking trees! Stupid fucking psychos everywhere! Stupid fucking EVERYTHING! God, what i'd do to get my hands on a juicy steak, or a really good burger! Hell, I could even do with a nice pizza right about now, or a ham sandwich, or even minestrone soup! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?!?
It was at that point, at the peak of his frustration, that Todd suddenly found what he was looking for as he looked around the corner of the next tree to find a strange looking mushroom growing at its base. Ahah, paydirt!
Of course, the thought did briefly occur to Todd as he snatched the mushroom from its base that it could potentially be poisonous. After all, he'd heard stories about people who had eaten mushrooms only to suddenly go deathly ill, only to then get better later, only to THEN suddenly die from the poison later on. However, he was far too hungry and disorientated by this point to give a damn about the potential consequences as he guzzled down the fungus, enjoying every single bite he took as if it was his last. He didn't even care about the fact that it tasted godawful, at this point ANYTHING would have tasted like a high class gourmet meal.
Oh. My. GOD! I feel, like, a million times better now! God DAMN, that feels...
...That feels...
.....Uuurgh, on second thoughts, maybe eating that mushroom wasn't such a bright idea after all.
Moments after the strange-looking fungus found itself going down Todd's slender throat, the young boy began to feel somewhat dizzy and disorientated. The world around him began to swirl as he found himself stumbling further through the forest, his legs feeling as though they could give up on him at any moment. Everything around him looked weird and peculiar, his pupils dilating as they dashed around and observed his surroundings. Eventually, Todd found himself falling over onto his back, staring up into the infinite abyss above him.
He suddenly felt as though gravity was about to give up, and in a panic he grabbed onto the roots of a nearby tree to stop himself from floating up into the sky like a helium balloon. The world continued to swirl above him, the colours of his surroundings looking distorted and unreal. Was this what it was like to die from a poisoned mushroom? You suffer some kind of weird acid trip before dropping dead?
Then again, Todd had heard of there being mushrooms out there which screw your head up. Make you see things that aren't really there. What are they called again... Magic Mushrooms? Is that what they're called? Either way, the fact remained that Todd was not enjoying this in the slightest. He couldn't imagine why people would want to experience this kind of trippy experience on a regular basis. He felt scared, confused, disorientated and seriously freaked out all at the same time.
God damn this fuckin' island! Why the heck hasn't dad saved me yet! Doesn't he care about me at all? I'd of thought he'd of found a way to save me by now, surely? Unless...
...Unless he never DID care in the first place.
It hadn't occurred to Todd before this point, but now that he really thought about it, everything made far more sense. He KNEW that he father had the power to get him out of this game in no time whatsover. His father knew people, very powerful people in fact, and that all he'd need to do was throw some money around and Todd would be out of this shitty game in no time flat. But it had been ages since he first woke up, and there had been no sign of his father anyway. Nothing, not even a peep. His father truly had abandoned him to die on this desolate rock.
What the heck was the last thing he said to me again as I was leaving?
"Make me proud son... So all them faggots how a REAL man wins this game!"
...Jesus, was he SERIOUS about that? Have I just been making an ass of myself the whole time? Oh god, how could I have been so STUPID! He must seriously hate me now, I can just imagine what he must be thinking... "Tsk tsk, and here ah thought I'd brought up a champion! Too bad he was too much of a chickenshit to make an impact."
It was at this point that Todd ended up doing something he couldn't remember having ever done since he was about six years old or so.
He cried.
Not a wussy cry like the type you have when you watch a good tearjerker, but a genuine sob of complete and utter sorrow. Here he was, stark naked in the middle of the woods, with no food. No shelter. No clothing. No friends. And worst of all, no hope of survival whatsoever. Even he he did suddenly decide to play this game, god forbid, he wouldn't have a hope in hell. He wasn't strong, brave, clever, or even lucky! He was just Todd Hudson, the pathetic sack of crap who honestly thought he was going to get off this rock in one piece.
Shit man! SHIT! I don't wanna die! I-I-I wanted to do stuff with my life, y'know? Like... Uh, I dunno, go to Paris or some shit. Hell, I've never even slept with a real woman before! I don't wanna die a virgin! Oh god help me, I DON'T WANT TO DIE A VIRGIN!
He continued to sob relentlessly for the next ten minutes or so, tossing around as he struggled to accept the fact that all of this was really happening. That he'd have to fend for himself, try to figure out a way to survive. Maybe he could try being more... Polite? Actually try to earn an ally or two? See if he could get some friends to help him out? That could work... Oh, who am I kidding? NOBODY is gonna become friends with a scumbag like me! I'm nothing! A pathetic piece of shit who deserves to be scraped off the bottom of some badass motherfucker's shoe. I stand a better chance of getting hit by lightning then I do...
Wait.
What's that noise?
Is that...
NOOO, surely not?
...Can it?
Todd didn't believe it at first, but sure enough, in the distance he could hear the undeniable sound of a helicopter flying by.
He stood up, his eyes darting around the sky for any signs of life, and eventually he found just what he was looking for in the form of a large white helicopter.
It was his father! His father ad actually come by to save him in the end after all!
"DAD! Wait a sec, I'm comin' daddy!"
Todd began to chase after the helicopter in the sky, tears of joy flowing from his eyes and a big dumb looking smile on his face as he made his way past all the vines and trees for the ghostly helicopter that flew above him. Maybe his father had to cut his way through a lot of red tape in order to save him or something? That made sense, right? Its not as if he could just walk up the the TV execs and demand to let him take his son back. Not that it'd stop him of course, because in the end Clint Hudson ALWAYS got what he wanted. And if anyone could get Todd out of this mess, it was him.
Eventually, Todd found himself in a clearing of some sort. A clearing which looked oddly familiar. Not that Todd noticed, seeing as the helicopter was now hovering a dozen metres or so above the middle of the clearing.
And, hanging off the rope ladder, was none other then Todd's father with his arm outstretched.
"DADDY! I knew you'd come to save me, I just KNEW you would!"
Things seemed to go in slow motion as Todd ran towards his father, his arm's outstretched and ready to grab onto him. He had to climb over a series of fences on the way though. Not that Todd cared. He was about to finally reunite with his father for crying out loud! He hadn't felt so happy in YEARS!
Oh god, the first thing I'm gonna do once I get home is have a great big bubble bath! A-A-And order a bigass pizza to go along with it! Then I'm gonna go cuddle my dog, Chewie! And sleep in a big comfy bed! With actual cushions this time! And my god, I'm gonna have one hell of a party to go along with it!
He wasn't far now, his father barely a few meters away from him. All he had to do was reach his arm out and jump, then he'd finally be off this hellhole. No more getting punched in the jaw. No more monkeys stealing his clothes. No more crazy bitches holding him at gunpoint. He'll finally be home again.
The young boy leaped through the air, his arm outstretched as he grabbed onto his father's firm grip...
...Only for the image of his father, the rope ladder and the helicopter to suddenly fade away. As if they were never there to begin with.
Todd's face suddenly dropped, a confused expression replacing the look of sheer joy that was there mere moments ago.
Suddenly, he realised that he had been sweating the whole time. As if he was somewhere boiling hot.
It was at that point that he finally looked down and realised where he was, and his heart suddenly filled with dread.
Because below him lay a VERY deep pit, at the bottom of which was a big mysterious red glow.
It was the very same pit which Marcus had chucked his bag into just the other day.
And now, Todd was falling down it himself at breakneck speed.
In all the chaos, there was only one thing which Todd could say as he plunged into the seemingly bottomless abyss to his doom.
Meanwhile, sitting back home on his expensive leather coach, Clint Hudson simply shook his head disapprovingly and turned the TV off.
After wasting several hours of his life chasing after a monkey, Todd Hudson suddenly stopped the moment he realised that he'd completely ran out of breath.
The fact that he also tumbled over an overturned tree happened to be a coincidence.
Tired, filthy, and completely butt naked, Todd was far from the paragon of sexiness he was before he found himself on this stupid island. His once awesome haircut was now nothing more than a long lifeless fringe. His once spotless skin was covered in dirt, muck and bruises from the many times he'd fallen over. His tongue prodded the empty spot in his mouth where his tooth used to be, a painful reminder of the FIRST asshat he bumped into on the island.
Groooowl...
And now, to make things infinitely worse, Todd realised that he was absolutely starving.
Oh gooood, I need food! Anything! Jesus fuckin' Christ, you'd of thought that it'd be easy finding something to eat IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GODDAMN JUNGLE!
The way in which the young boy searched on all fours along the jungle floor distinctly resembled an animal scavenging for food, his dishevelled hair and lack of clothing only adding to the effect. He spent what must have been an entire hour looking for sustenance of some description. Some berries, maybe an edible root of some description. Heck, at this point, he was perfectly willing to much down on some small helpless rodent if it meant a bite to eat. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find anything remotely edible. Not even as he searched the nearest bushes for weird fruit, or when he desperately dug up the ground looking for edible grubs, none of this foraging resulted in him finding anything that could remotely resemble a decent meal.
For as long as Todd could remember, things like food and shelter had always been given to him on a silver platter. Never in his life had he ever gone a full day without food or a roof over his head at some point, nor had he ever had to worry about things like first aid or finding something to wear. In a way, his tenure on the island was an entirely new experience. It had allowed him to experience what it was like on the edge, living in the wilderness with nothing to rely on apart from his keen wit and incomparable intellect. But did that thought comfort him in the slightest?
No. Not even a little.
AARGH! Stupid fucking jungle! Stupid fucking trees! Stupid fucking psychos everywhere! Stupid fucking EVERYTHING! God, what i'd do to get my hands on a juicy steak, or a really good burger! Hell, I could even do with a nice pizza right about now, or a ham sandwich, or even minestrone soup! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?!?
It was at that point, at the peak of his frustration, that Todd suddenly found what he was looking for as he looked around the corner of the next tree to find a strange looking mushroom growing at its base. Ahah, paydirt!
Of course, the thought did briefly occur to Todd as he snatched the mushroom from its base that it could potentially be poisonous. After all, he'd heard stories about people who had eaten mushrooms only to suddenly go deathly ill, only to then get better later, only to THEN suddenly die from the poison later on. However, he was far too hungry and disorientated by this point to give a damn about the potential consequences as he guzzled down the fungus, enjoying every single bite he took as if it was his last. He didn't even care about the fact that it tasted godawful, at this point ANYTHING would have tasted like a high class gourmet meal.
Oh. My. GOD! I feel, like, a million times better now! God DAMN, that feels...
...That feels...
.....Uuurgh, on second thoughts, maybe eating that mushroom wasn't such a bright idea after all.
Moments after the strange-looking fungus found itself going down Todd's slender throat, the young boy began to feel somewhat dizzy and disorientated. The world around him began to swirl as he found himself stumbling further through the forest, his legs feeling as though they could give up on him at any moment. Everything around him looked weird and peculiar, his pupils dilating as they dashed around and observed his surroundings. Eventually, Todd found himself falling over onto his back, staring up into the infinite abyss above him.
He suddenly felt as though gravity was about to give up, and in a panic he grabbed onto the roots of a nearby tree to stop himself from floating up into the sky like a helium balloon. The world continued to swirl above him, the colours of his surroundings looking distorted and unreal. Was this what it was like to die from a poisoned mushroom? You suffer some kind of weird acid trip before dropping dead?
Then again, Todd had heard of there being mushrooms out there which screw your head up. Make you see things that aren't really there. What are they called again... Magic Mushrooms? Is that what they're called? Either way, the fact remained that Todd was not enjoying this in the slightest. He couldn't imagine why people would want to experience this kind of trippy experience on a regular basis. He felt scared, confused, disorientated and seriously freaked out all at the same time.
God damn this fuckin' island! Why the heck hasn't dad saved me yet! Doesn't he care about me at all? I'd of thought he'd of found a way to save me by now, surely? Unless...
...Unless he never DID care in the first place.
It hadn't occurred to Todd before this point, but now that he really thought about it, everything made far more sense. He KNEW that he father had the power to get him out of this game in no time whatsover. His father knew people, very powerful people in fact, and that all he'd need to do was throw some money around and Todd would be out of this shitty game in no time flat. But it had been ages since he first woke up, and there had been no sign of his father anyway. Nothing, not even a peep. His father truly had abandoned him to die on this desolate rock.
What the heck was the last thing he said to me again as I was leaving?
"Make me proud son... So all them faggots how a REAL man wins this game!"
...Jesus, was he SERIOUS about that? Have I just been making an ass of myself the whole time? Oh god, how could I have been so STUPID! He must seriously hate me now, I can just imagine what he must be thinking... "Tsk tsk, and here ah thought I'd brought up a champion! Too bad he was too much of a chickenshit to make an impact."
It was at this point that Todd ended up doing something he couldn't remember having ever done since he was about six years old or so.
He cried.
Not a wussy cry like the type you have when you watch a good tearjerker, but a genuine sob of complete and utter sorrow. Here he was, stark naked in the middle of the woods, with no food. No shelter. No clothing. No friends. And worst of all, no hope of survival whatsoever. Even he he did suddenly decide to play this game, god forbid, he wouldn't have a hope in hell. He wasn't strong, brave, clever, or even lucky! He was just Todd Hudson, the pathetic sack of crap who honestly thought he was going to get off this rock in one piece.
Shit man! SHIT! I don't wanna die! I-I-I wanted to do stuff with my life, y'know? Like... Uh, I dunno, go to Paris or some shit. Hell, I've never even slept with a real woman before! I don't wanna die a virgin! Oh god help me, I DON'T WANT TO DIE A VIRGIN!
He continued to sob relentlessly for the next ten minutes or so, tossing around as he struggled to accept the fact that all of this was really happening. That he'd have to fend for himself, try to figure out a way to survive. Maybe he could try being more... Polite? Actually try to earn an ally or two? See if he could get some friends to help him out? That could work... Oh, who am I kidding? NOBODY is gonna become friends with a scumbag like me! I'm nothing! A pathetic piece of shit who deserves to be scraped off the bottom of some badass motherfucker's shoe. I stand a better chance of getting hit by lightning then I do...
Wait.
What's that noise?
Is that...
NOOO, surely not?
...Can it?
Todd didn't believe it at first, but sure enough, in the distance he could hear the undeniable sound of a helicopter flying by.
He stood up, his eyes darting around the sky for any signs of life, and eventually he found just what he was looking for in the form of a large white helicopter.
It was his father! His father ad actually come by to save him in the end after all!
"DAD! Wait a sec, I'm comin' daddy!"
Todd began to chase after the helicopter in the sky, tears of joy flowing from his eyes and a big dumb looking smile on his face as he made his way past all the vines and trees for the ghostly helicopter that flew above him. Maybe his father had to cut his way through a lot of red tape in order to save him or something? That made sense, right? Its not as if he could just walk up the the TV execs and demand to let him take his son back. Not that it'd stop him of course, because in the end Clint Hudson ALWAYS got what he wanted. And if anyone could get Todd out of this mess, it was him.
Eventually, Todd found himself in a clearing of some sort. A clearing which looked oddly familiar. Not that Todd noticed, seeing as the helicopter was now hovering a dozen metres or so above the middle of the clearing.
And, hanging off the rope ladder, was none other then Todd's father with his arm outstretched.
"DADDY! I knew you'd come to save me, I just KNEW you would!"
Things seemed to go in slow motion as Todd ran towards his father, his arm's outstretched and ready to grab onto him. He had to climb over a series of fences on the way though. Not that Todd cared. He was about to finally reunite with his father for crying out loud! He hadn't felt so happy in YEARS!
Oh god, the first thing I'm gonna do once I get home is have a great big bubble bath! A-A-And order a bigass pizza to go along with it! Then I'm gonna go cuddle my dog, Chewie! And sleep in a big comfy bed! With actual cushions this time! And my god, I'm gonna have one hell of a party to go along with it!
He wasn't far now, his father barely a few meters away from him. All he had to do was reach his arm out and jump, then he'd finally be off this hellhole. No more getting punched in the jaw. No more monkeys stealing his clothes. No more crazy bitches holding him at gunpoint. He'll finally be home again.
The young boy leaped through the air, his arm outstretched as he grabbed onto his father's firm grip...
...Only for the image of his father, the rope ladder and the helicopter to suddenly fade away. As if they were never there to begin with.
Todd's face suddenly dropped, a confused expression replacing the look of sheer joy that was there mere moments ago.
Suddenly, he realised that he had been sweating the whole time. As if he was somewhere boiling hot.
It was at that point that he finally looked down and realised where he was, and his heart suddenly filled with dread.
Because below him lay a VERY deep pit, at the bottom of which was a big mysterious red glow.
It was the very same pit which Marcus had chucked his bag into just the other day.
And now, Todd was falling down it himself at breakneck speed.
In all the chaos, there was only one thing which Todd could say as he plunged into the seemingly bottomless abyss to his doom.
"...HOLY
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GLD2: Todd Hudson - DECEASED
Meanwhile, sitting back home on his expensive leather coach, Clint Hudson simply shook his head disapprovingly and turned the TV off.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
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Pippi
- Posts: 1121
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
There were a lot of things Glen was uncertain about, in regards to the island, the game and things like that. One thing he did know, however, was his emotions had been all over the fucking place since waking up. Calm, pleased, angry, angrier, fucking terrified, really fucking angry, and now, he was back to calm again. Calm because Glen was clearly not the weakest person in the proceedings. Glen had been right-the new guy was twitchy as all hell.
Under normal circumstances, Glen would either have stayed five miles away from this guy at all times, or constantly trying to piss him off. But now... now that Glen had actually met someone else willing to kill, teaming up seemed a much more attractive option. If he ever met Mr-Orange-Bandana again, well, he’d have... this other guy with him, and seeing as both of them had guns, Glen’s chances of survival were pretty much 100 per cent. And there was always the option of using the guy as a meat shield.
Jonas’ responses were pretty standard fare. Just some simple nodding, and general noises of agreement. Just as Glen was about to move from feeling calm to feeling confident, smug and in control, Jonas dropped a couple of pretty large bombshells. Number one being the fact that he had managed to kill someone. Without realising it, Glen’s jaw had dropped at this. I... honestly did not expect that. Well... that can’t be bad, can it?
Realising he was currently slack-jawed, Glen closed his mouth, and then turned it into a grin. “Well, that’s fucking great!” he said, with slightly less contempt than before. He still didn’t care enough about the boy’s name, however. The second bombshell was slightly less welcome. As in, a lot less welcome.
For a few seconds, Glen just stared down at the ground. Finally he spoke up, to provide his thoughtful and intelligent insight on this piece of information.
“... Fuuuck... Just... Fuck, this is bad. Fucking Isaac, was he that fucking stupid back at school, to get himself killed, what, 3rd? 4th?”
Glen was silent again. He idly raised the shotgun slightly, feeling its weight. “... This Vincent fucker...” Glen said slowly. “What exactly did he look like? What weapons and shit did he have? Cause next time we see him, he’s fucking dead.”
Yeah, Glen’s emotions were seriously messed up right now, and to make things worse, a bright spot appeared, adding relief to Glen’s current odd mix of calm and anger. The guy, it seemed, did have his first aid kit, and Glen hastily picked it up, whilst saying “Fan-fucking-tastic!” As he was doing so, however, a familiar voice rang out, coming from quite nearby. Glen was, at first, confused, seeing as the voice was an adult’s, but then realised the voice was echoing from the other guy’s collar.
Glen laughed, rather unkindly, at Jonas’ confusion, after the announcement had finished. “Yeah, that’s just our mentor. Not exactly great, but he could be worse, y’know? I mean, he could have been-“
No-one would ever know exactly what Glen believed could be the worst mentor possible, as his words were interrupted by the collar speaking again. And this announcement seemed specifically designed to make Glen retract his previous statement about their mentor. Because, along with all the other dickish things that Glen did, said and thought, he was also quite a bit homophobic. As the announcement went on, Glen’s expression grew darker and darker, until it could not only potentially kill, but quite possibly blow up planet sized objects as well.
The awkwardness was so thick, Glen could probably have shot it. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, with Jonas just making awkward “Ums” and “Yeahs”, and Glen glaring at nothing in particular. Finally, Glen spoke up, getting increasingly louder. “Are you fucking kidding me? Really? I swear, if I ever meet one of those fuckers calling us the “Gay Team” when I get off this hellhole, I’m gonna knock their fucking head of with this fucking branch!” Glen turned to his bag, to retrieve one of his still almost un-wearable tops.
And then, if possible, things got even gayer.
First, Glen heard a rustling from the bushes, but he was too pissed off to pay it much attention. Only when the rustling grew louder, and he could hear vague shouting did Glen turn around. And he could only stare, slack-jawed like earlier, and say a single word.
“What.”
Todd Hudson, spoilt stupid prat, was currently running full pelt at the volcano, yelling something about his dad. And he was completely fucking naked.
Glen could only watch in horror, as Todd ran to the lip of the volcano, leaping over the fences in his way. He’s not... he can’t be... even Todd Hudson can’t be that fucking stupid!
It turned out he was. Todd leapt, and fell straight into the volcano, in a perfect imitation of the cardboard box and pink t-shirt from earlier. His scream echoed around the surrounding area, but Glen’s outburst rivalled it in sheer volume and pitch.
“What... Did... DID THAT JUST FUCKING HAPPEN?! DID TODD HUDSON JUST JUMP INTO A FUCKING VOLCANO, COMPLETELY FUCKING NAKED?!? I, just... what? Tell me I saw that! Tell me I’m not going fucking crazy, dude! They put something in the water, didn’t they? Just... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!”
Under normal circumstances, Glen would either have stayed five miles away from this guy at all times, or constantly trying to piss him off. But now... now that Glen had actually met someone else willing to kill, teaming up seemed a much more attractive option. If he ever met Mr-Orange-Bandana again, well, he’d have... this other guy with him, and seeing as both of them had guns, Glen’s chances of survival were pretty much 100 per cent. And there was always the option of using the guy as a meat shield.
Jonas’ responses were pretty standard fare. Just some simple nodding, and general noises of agreement. Just as Glen was about to move from feeling calm to feeling confident, smug and in control, Jonas dropped a couple of pretty large bombshells. Number one being the fact that he had managed to kill someone. Without realising it, Glen’s jaw had dropped at this. I... honestly did not expect that. Well... that can’t be bad, can it?
Realising he was currently slack-jawed, Glen closed his mouth, and then turned it into a grin. “Well, that’s fucking great!” he said, with slightly less contempt than before. He still didn’t care enough about the boy’s name, however. The second bombshell was slightly less welcome. As in, a lot less welcome.
For a few seconds, Glen just stared down at the ground. Finally he spoke up, to provide his thoughtful and intelligent insight on this piece of information.
“... Fuuuck... Just... Fuck, this is bad. Fucking Isaac, was he that fucking stupid back at school, to get himself killed, what, 3rd? 4th?”
Glen was silent again. He idly raised the shotgun slightly, feeling its weight. “... This Vincent fucker...” Glen said slowly. “What exactly did he look like? What weapons and shit did he have? Cause next time we see him, he’s fucking dead.”
Yeah, Glen’s emotions were seriously messed up right now, and to make things worse, a bright spot appeared, adding relief to Glen’s current odd mix of calm and anger. The guy, it seemed, did have his first aid kit, and Glen hastily picked it up, whilst saying “Fan-fucking-tastic!” As he was doing so, however, a familiar voice rang out, coming from quite nearby. Glen was, at first, confused, seeing as the voice was an adult’s, but then realised the voice was echoing from the other guy’s collar.
Glen laughed, rather unkindly, at Jonas’ confusion, after the announcement had finished. “Yeah, that’s just our mentor. Not exactly great, but he could be worse, y’know? I mean, he could have been-“
No-one would ever know exactly what Glen believed could be the worst mentor possible, as his words were interrupted by the collar speaking again. And this announcement seemed specifically designed to make Glen retract his previous statement about their mentor. Because, along with all the other dickish things that Glen did, said and thought, he was also quite a bit homophobic. As the announcement went on, Glen’s expression grew darker and darker, until it could not only potentially kill, but quite possibly blow up planet sized objects as well.
The awkwardness was so thick, Glen could probably have shot it. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, with Jonas just making awkward “Ums” and “Yeahs”, and Glen glaring at nothing in particular. Finally, Glen spoke up, getting increasingly louder. “Are you fucking kidding me? Really? I swear, if I ever meet one of those fuckers calling us the “Gay Team” when I get off this hellhole, I’m gonna knock their fucking head of with this fucking branch!” Glen turned to his bag, to retrieve one of his still almost un-wearable tops.
And then, if possible, things got even gayer.
First, Glen heard a rustling from the bushes, but he was too pissed off to pay it much attention. Only when the rustling grew louder, and he could hear vague shouting did Glen turn around. And he could only stare, slack-jawed like earlier, and say a single word.
“What.”
Todd Hudson, spoilt stupid prat, was currently running full pelt at the volcano, yelling something about his dad. And he was completely fucking naked.
Glen could only watch in horror, as Todd ran to the lip of the volcano, leaping over the fences in his way. He’s not... he can’t be... even Todd Hudson can’t be that fucking stupid!
It turned out he was. Todd leapt, and fell straight into the volcano, in a perfect imitation of the cardboard box and pink t-shirt from earlier. His scream echoed around the surrounding area, but Glen’s outburst rivalled it in sheer volume and pitch.
“What... Did... DID THAT JUST FUCKING HAPPEN?! DID TODD HUDSON JUST JUMP INTO A FUCKING VOLCANO, COMPLETELY FUCKING NAKED?!? I, just... what? Tell me I saw that! Tell me I’m not going fucking crazy, dude! They put something in the water, didn’t they? Just... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!”
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Little Boy*
- Posts: 102
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Jonas thought he'd never feel proud for outright murdering someone. It was a strange sensation, but he felt like a hundred bucks as Glen's jaw dropped down and his eyes widened to stare at him.
A suitable fuckin' reaction.. I'm cold, yeah, if I play this game I gotta be ice cold, like a motherfuckin' blizzard. No sympathy, I mean, it was him or me. Yeah. So, yeah, yeah I should feel proud! I was the one who manned up and pulled the trigger so... So there.
The other news, Glen didn't take too well.
"... Fuuuck... Just... Fuck, this is bad. Fucking Isaac, was he that fucking stupid back at school, to get himself killed, what, 3rd? 4th?”
Jonas shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what to say, so he settled for the truth.
"I dibn't really wun with his 'goop." He began, before stopping and tweaking his nose. He grinded his teeth in pain before continuing, trying to speak clearer.
"He was just anober kid. Fuggin' Vince blew 'is head clean apart, no chance of fighting back."
“What exactly did he look like? What weapons and shit did he have? Cause next time we see him, he’s fucking dead.”
Jonas grinned. As cold blooded as it was, the thought of Vincent laying on the floor with a bullet in his brain was very appealing. The boy had tried to kill him, had mocked him when he was scared shitless.
Psycho. He's worse then anything else I've come across so why not, the kid is a psycho. Now that we tagged him, we gotta go bag him. Yeah. Fuck yeah, we can do that, right? Easy! Two of us, Glen can pull his own-
"Big. He's really big- he's got a gun, no way he could kill Isaac wit- well, not the way he did. Not with anything else. Uh...-"
Then was a loud noise, and Jonas spun and shrunk back, letting out a yell. A boy was running toward them. No, parallel to them. Jonas' eyes widened in confusion. He was naked, completely naked, with a strange look in his eye. He was shouting at the top of his lungs and Jonas shrunk back a step, behind Glen. The pair watched as he ran- ran towards...
Holy fuck holy fuck HOLY-
The boy was running at a breakneck pace and he wouldn't stop. Not for them, not for a volcano. He pitched headfirst down, over the side.
FUCK.
"HOLY FUGGIN' SHIT!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, high and shrill. His voice was drowned out however by the boys death cry, and the equally loud shout from Glen.
Jonas leapt back a step as his new comrade started screaming, his eyes darting toward the boy Glen had identified as Todd and back to their things. Jonas stood shivering with fear for a moment- and then just as suddenly he was off running toward the volcano.
He had to see. He'd watched Lord of the Rings, but he knew it probably hadn't been the same thing. He wondered if the body was even still visible. As he reached the edge, Jonas peered over to look, let out a yell and shrunk back.
Okay yeah, he's dead alright.
He turned back to Glen, standing over with their things, a bewildered look on his scrawny face.
What in the fuck is wrong with this place?
A suitable fuckin' reaction.. I'm cold, yeah, if I play this game I gotta be ice cold, like a motherfuckin' blizzard. No sympathy, I mean, it was him or me. Yeah. So, yeah, yeah I should feel proud! I was the one who manned up and pulled the trigger so... So there.
The other news, Glen didn't take too well.
"... Fuuuck... Just... Fuck, this is bad. Fucking Isaac, was he that fucking stupid back at school, to get himself killed, what, 3rd? 4th?”
Jonas shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what to say, so he settled for the truth.
"I dibn't really wun with his 'goop." He began, before stopping and tweaking his nose. He grinded his teeth in pain before continuing, trying to speak clearer.
"He was just anober kid. Fuggin' Vince blew 'is head clean apart, no chance of fighting back."
“What exactly did he look like? What weapons and shit did he have? Cause next time we see him, he’s fucking dead.”
Jonas grinned. As cold blooded as it was, the thought of Vincent laying on the floor with a bullet in his brain was very appealing. The boy had tried to kill him, had mocked him when he was scared shitless.
Psycho. He's worse then anything else I've come across so why not, the kid is a psycho. Now that we tagged him, we gotta go bag him. Yeah. Fuck yeah, we can do that, right? Easy! Two of us, Glen can pull his own-
"Big. He's really big- he's got a gun, no way he could kill Isaac wit- well, not the way he did. Not with anything else. Uh...-"
Then was a loud noise, and Jonas spun and shrunk back, letting out a yell. A boy was running toward them. No, parallel to them. Jonas' eyes widened in confusion. He was naked, completely naked, with a strange look in his eye. He was shouting at the top of his lungs and Jonas shrunk back a step, behind Glen. The pair watched as he ran- ran towards...
Holy fuck holy fuck HOLY-
The boy was running at a breakneck pace and he wouldn't stop. Not for them, not for a volcano. He pitched headfirst down, over the side.
FUCK.
"HOLY FUGGIN' SHIT!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, high and shrill. His voice was drowned out however by the boys death cry, and the equally loud shout from Glen.
Jonas leapt back a step as his new comrade started screaming, his eyes darting toward the boy Glen had identified as Todd and back to their things. Jonas stood shivering with fear for a moment- and then just as suddenly he was off running toward the volcano.
He had to see. He'd watched Lord of the Rings, but he knew it probably hadn't been the same thing. He wondered if the body was even still visible. As he reached the edge, Jonas peered over to look, let out a yell and shrunk back.
Okay yeah, he's dead alright.
He turned back to Glen, standing over with their things, a bewildered look on his scrawny face.
What in the fuck is wrong with this place?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1121
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- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
Glen was still processing what he’d just seen. Todd Hudson. Volcano. Death. Fucking confusion everywhere. What. Why. How. Whe-No, wait, when was easy, when was just now. But still! Jesus Christ! Todd had just died in front of him! This whole time on the island, and Glen had only just truly realised the gravity of the situation. People could, and would, die right in front of him. And if Glen was completely honest, it scared the fuck out of him.
So, when Jonas started running towards the volcano, in what looked like an imitation of Todd, Glen’s shout of “DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” was not fuelled by worry for Jonas’ safety. No, Glen was still terrified after Todd’s apparent suicide, and simply wanted death to keep the fuck away from him for the time being. Fortunately, Jonas hadn’t turned crazy, and decided to sacrifice himself for an Aztec god, or something. He’s just gone over there to see Todd’s body? Good luck, genius. Lava burns shit, don’t you know? Why’s he yelling anyway? Is he scared of fire or something? Cause that’d just be fucking perfect...
Jonas had, by now, turned back to face Glen, a look of confusion on his face that most likely matched Glen’s own. After a few awkward seconds, Glen opened his mouth to speak, but for once, he was lost for words.
“Right... uh... fuck, why’d anyone do that... uh, yeah, so... back to business, I guess...” Glen’s voice trailed off lamely, and he turned to his bag, and grabbed his basketball top, not caring that it wasn’t completely dry. Putting it on, Glen closed his bag up, before speaking again, this time with more of his familiar smugness.
“Y’know, it serves him right, really. Todd, I mean. Stupid spoilt dickhead couldn’t even handle two fucking days out here.” Glen’s usual smirk was back, and his voice had his usual smug tone, but inside, Glen just felt sick. Sure, Glen had hated Todd, but the poor bastard had just died in the stupidest way possible. Making fun of him now just seemed... wrong.
“Right... so anyway, uh, back to what you were saying...” Glen tried to think back to their previous conversation, with difficulty, as the image of Naked-Todd jumping into the volcano kept popping into his mind. “So Isaac was just some useless no-one? Not too much of a loss then, really?”
Now, that was odd. Glen had made fun of another person after their death. And yet this time, he didn’t care. Maybe it was because he didn’t know Isaac. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen Isaac’s death first hand. Whatever it was, it wasn’t bothering Glen, who sat on the ground, and put his head in his palm in exasperation.
“Big and with a gun, huh? Dude, that’s possibly the most unhelpful thing I’ve heard. There are a bunch of big guys at Silver Dragon alone, and who knows how many of the fuckers have guns? Can you, at least, remember what he was wearing?” Glen waited a couple of seconds, before thinking of another point. “Oh, yeah, and it looks like we’re gonna be teaming up, until Vince is gone at least. So I guess I’ll need to know your name, huh?”
So, when Jonas started running towards the volcano, in what looked like an imitation of Todd, Glen’s shout of “DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” was not fuelled by worry for Jonas’ safety. No, Glen was still terrified after Todd’s apparent suicide, and simply wanted death to keep the fuck away from him for the time being. Fortunately, Jonas hadn’t turned crazy, and decided to sacrifice himself for an Aztec god, or something. He’s just gone over there to see Todd’s body? Good luck, genius. Lava burns shit, don’t you know? Why’s he yelling anyway? Is he scared of fire or something? Cause that’d just be fucking perfect...
Jonas had, by now, turned back to face Glen, a look of confusion on his face that most likely matched Glen’s own. After a few awkward seconds, Glen opened his mouth to speak, but for once, he was lost for words.
“Right... uh... fuck, why’d anyone do that... uh, yeah, so... back to business, I guess...” Glen’s voice trailed off lamely, and he turned to his bag, and grabbed his basketball top, not caring that it wasn’t completely dry. Putting it on, Glen closed his bag up, before speaking again, this time with more of his familiar smugness.
“Y’know, it serves him right, really. Todd, I mean. Stupid spoilt dickhead couldn’t even handle two fucking days out here.” Glen’s usual smirk was back, and his voice had his usual smug tone, but inside, Glen just felt sick. Sure, Glen had hated Todd, but the poor bastard had just died in the stupidest way possible. Making fun of him now just seemed... wrong.
“Right... so anyway, uh, back to what you were saying...” Glen tried to think back to their previous conversation, with difficulty, as the image of Naked-Todd jumping into the volcano kept popping into his mind. “So Isaac was just some useless no-one? Not too much of a loss then, really?”
Now, that was odd. Glen had made fun of another person after their death. And yet this time, he didn’t care. Maybe it was because he didn’t know Isaac. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen Isaac’s death first hand. Whatever it was, it wasn’t bothering Glen, who sat on the ground, and put his head in his palm in exasperation.
“Big and with a gun, huh? Dude, that’s possibly the most unhelpful thing I’ve heard. There are a bunch of big guys at Silver Dragon alone, and who knows how many of the fuckers have guns? Can you, at least, remember what he was wearing?” Glen waited a couple of seconds, before thinking of another point. “Oh, yeah, and it looks like we’re gonna be teaming up, until Vince is gone at least. So I guess I’ll need to know your name, huh?”
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Little Boy*
- Posts: 102
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 5:35 am
“DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?”
Jonas flinched back, as if he'd been struck in the face. His hands clasped together and his jaw shook.
"Christ! It's okay, don't worry I'm fine! Don't yell so fuckin' much cripes..." He trailed off, at a loss for words. He'd just witnessed a suicide. He took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth. The boy was talking again.
“Y’know, it serves him right, really. Todd, I mean. Stupid spoilt dickhead couldn’t even handle two fucking days out here.”
Jonas glanced back towards the pit, then back to Glen. He sized the other boy up for a second, his mind going through loops.
Is he saying that 'cus he's hardcore? What if he's hardcore, better then me? Holy shit, kid kills himself and he says he deserved it? Who the fuck am I to talk, Jonas, you killed someone! Shit. Shit shit, he's just trying to ignore what just happened, which was a fucking suicide jesus fuck- stop talking, stop swearing gotta think, he's trustworthy yeah? He's pink, you're punk, you're all set. It's not like you can trust anyone else. Even if we're massive dickheads, screw it, at least we'll get outta here together.
He slowly nodded, gulping to clear his throat. The sun was beating down and his little journey over toward the volcano had left an uncomfortable sheen of sweat on him.
It's like a sauna, cooked Jonas, Jesus-What if I get a sunburn? Oh fuck, I hate sunburns...
"Isaac... Well I mean, he woulda' been good to have around. If only for numbers, five instead of four... But yeah, I don't know how good he'd have been uh, when it comes down to it, the dirty work..." He paused for a second, fidgeting.
"He might not have even wanted to play. I dunno man. As for Vincent? Uhm... Nothing special. Jeans, blue jeans. And a white shirt. Some kinda fuckin' work boots or something, I'm not really sure. But if we see him, I'll know him."
And I'll have to kill him. Shit... Maybe someone will beat me to it. That'd be nice.
"My name's Jonas. Jonas Jeffries."
Not knowing what else to do, Jonas stuck out his hand.
"Uh, it's nice to meet you man."
Jonas flinched back, as if he'd been struck in the face. His hands clasped together and his jaw shook.
"Christ! It's okay, don't worry I'm fine! Don't yell so fuckin' much cripes..." He trailed off, at a loss for words. He'd just witnessed a suicide. He took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth. The boy was talking again.
“Y’know, it serves him right, really. Todd, I mean. Stupid spoilt dickhead couldn’t even handle two fucking days out here.”
Jonas glanced back towards the pit, then back to Glen. He sized the other boy up for a second, his mind going through loops.
Is he saying that 'cus he's hardcore? What if he's hardcore, better then me? Holy shit, kid kills himself and he says he deserved it? Who the fuck am I to talk, Jonas, you killed someone! Shit. Shit shit, he's just trying to ignore what just happened, which was a fucking suicide jesus fuck- stop talking, stop swearing gotta think, he's trustworthy yeah? He's pink, you're punk, you're all set. It's not like you can trust anyone else. Even if we're massive dickheads, screw it, at least we'll get outta here together.
He slowly nodded, gulping to clear his throat. The sun was beating down and his little journey over toward the volcano had left an uncomfortable sheen of sweat on him.
It's like a sauna, cooked Jonas, Jesus-What if I get a sunburn? Oh fuck, I hate sunburns...
"Isaac... Well I mean, he woulda' been good to have around. If only for numbers, five instead of four... But yeah, I don't know how good he'd have been uh, when it comes down to it, the dirty work..." He paused for a second, fidgeting.
"He might not have even wanted to play. I dunno man. As for Vincent? Uhm... Nothing special. Jeans, blue jeans. And a white shirt. Some kinda fuckin' work boots or something, I'm not really sure. But if we see him, I'll know him."
And I'll have to kill him. Shit... Maybe someone will beat me to it. That'd be nice.
"My name's Jonas. Jonas Jeffries."
Not knowing what else to do, Jonas stuck out his hand.
"Uh, it's nice to meet you man."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1121
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- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
Jonas was talking about Isaac. Glen, despite having asked about him in the first place, wasn’t listening in the slightest. He slowly folded his arms and rolled his eyes. Jesus, this kid doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s on about, does he? Looks like a meat shield is all he’s gonna be useful for, after all. Hell, what if he gets twitchy enough to accidentally shoot me?
... Still. We do have a united cause, at the moment. Eh, maybe when Vincent’s down, I could just... take his weapon and leave.
Now, Jonas was talking about something Glen was interested in; how to recognize Vince. Pretty stereotypical stuff. Jeans, t-shirt, boots. Glen was about to make another sarcastic comment about how useless Jonas’ description was, when he briefly remembered something.
The Resort Beach... that guy... It looked like he was wearing the shit Jonas said... then again, it was dark, and the fucker hit me in the head pretty hard...
Glen shook his head. The more he thought about his encounter, the more his nose started to hurt like fuck. Still, if the guy was Vincent, then there was even more reason for Glen to find and kill him. “Actually, y’know what?” Glen started to speak. “I might have seen Vincent myself... Yeah, I’m positive I did. It was at the beach, the fancy one, buncha shitty little huts on it. Anyway, I was hiding out there, and Vince came along and... uh...” Glen didn’t want Jonas to know what had actually happened. If he let slip... well, Glen felt sure Jonas would lose trust, faith and all that crap in him in an instant. Hell, if I was Jonas, I’d just leave, right now.
Glen cleared his throat, before starting again. “Uh... yeah, Vince came along and started beating this girl up, got an oar or something. Anyway, naturally I dash in trying to rescue her, fire a couple of shots at Vince, and he pisses himself and runs away.” He couldn’t help it at this point. Glen was grinning, pretty much giving away his lie.
“Dude managed to get in a lucky swing though. Hit me with the oar. And then the ungrateful bitch runs off too!”
Glen sighed at this, although the grin was still on his face. Jonas had his hand stuck out now, seemingly waiting for Glen to shake it. Glen sighed again, this time in annoyance. Again, in a normal day, Glen would have made some hilarious retort at Jonas’ attempt at comradeship. On this occasion, however, he grasped Jonas’ hand, and shook it, albeit slightly harder than necessary.
“Whatever. You’re on team Pink, Jonas, so at the moment, it’s good to meet you too.”
Releasing Jonas’ hand, Glen crouched down, opened his bag to retrieve his map, and stood back up again. Unfolding it, Glen stared at it for a moment, before looking back at Jonas.
“Uh, right, sooo, we’ll need to head of somewhere, right? Well, anywhere but the ship, unless you wanna do a Todd or something. Well, anyway, last I saw of him he was at the Resort Beach, but he’s bound to have moved by now, so we can cross that one off too. So, uh...”
Yeah, I have no freaking clue where the fuck we should head off to. Shit. Glen looked back to the map, then back at Jonas. Then back at the map. Then he looked as if he was going to look back at Jonas, but instead, looked back at the map. Finally, Glen said “Uh... Jonas? Just so I can get a second opinion, where do you think we should go now?”
... Still. We do have a united cause, at the moment. Eh, maybe when Vincent’s down, I could just... take his weapon and leave.
Now, Jonas was talking about something Glen was interested in; how to recognize Vince. Pretty stereotypical stuff. Jeans, t-shirt, boots. Glen was about to make another sarcastic comment about how useless Jonas’ description was, when he briefly remembered something.
The Resort Beach... that guy... It looked like he was wearing the shit Jonas said... then again, it was dark, and the fucker hit me in the head pretty hard...
Glen shook his head. The more he thought about his encounter, the more his nose started to hurt like fuck. Still, if the guy was Vincent, then there was even more reason for Glen to find and kill him. “Actually, y’know what?” Glen started to speak. “I might have seen Vincent myself... Yeah, I’m positive I did. It was at the beach, the fancy one, buncha shitty little huts on it. Anyway, I was hiding out there, and Vince came along and... uh...” Glen didn’t want Jonas to know what had actually happened. If he let slip... well, Glen felt sure Jonas would lose trust, faith and all that crap in him in an instant. Hell, if I was Jonas, I’d just leave, right now.
Glen cleared his throat, before starting again. “Uh... yeah, Vince came along and started beating this girl up, got an oar or something. Anyway, naturally I dash in trying to rescue her, fire a couple of shots at Vince, and he pisses himself and runs away.” He couldn’t help it at this point. Glen was grinning, pretty much giving away his lie.
“Dude managed to get in a lucky swing though. Hit me with the oar. And then the ungrateful bitch runs off too!”
Glen sighed at this, although the grin was still on his face. Jonas had his hand stuck out now, seemingly waiting for Glen to shake it. Glen sighed again, this time in annoyance. Again, in a normal day, Glen would have made some hilarious retort at Jonas’ attempt at comradeship. On this occasion, however, he grasped Jonas’ hand, and shook it, albeit slightly harder than necessary.
“Whatever. You’re on team Pink, Jonas, so at the moment, it’s good to meet you too.”
Releasing Jonas’ hand, Glen crouched down, opened his bag to retrieve his map, and stood back up again. Unfolding it, Glen stared at it for a moment, before looking back at Jonas.
“Uh, right, sooo, we’ll need to head of somewhere, right? Well, anywhere but the ship, unless you wanna do a Todd or something. Well, anyway, last I saw of him he was at the Resort Beach, but he’s bound to have moved by now, so we can cross that one off too. So, uh...”
Yeah, I have no freaking clue where the fuck we should head off to. Shit. Glen looked back to the map, then back at Jonas. Then back at the map. Then he looked as if he was going to look back at Jonas, but instead, looked back at the map. Finally, Glen said “Uh... Jonas? Just so I can get a second opinion, where do you think we should go now?”
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Little Boy*
- Posts: 102
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 5:35 am
Gears rumbled to life in Jonas' mind- he was finally getting a sense of just who this kid was. It was a strange experience, almost as if he were looking in a mirror.
Why does this cock remind me so much of me?
Glen was rather proud, standoffish. Yet as he talked about Vincent, Jonas saw the slightest flicker of uncertainty as he relayed the story. Glen was a braggart, and was probably hiding the truth. A much more embarrassing truth.
Well that makes two of us. I'm not about to tell him I accidentally shot someone and shot up a hallway and acted like a fucking stupid idiot and- OHGOD WHY AM I IN THIS GAME.
So where did that leave them? Two scrawny shirtless boys standing at the lip of a Volcano, sizing each other up and trying to convince one another they were macho. No wonder people were calling them Team Gay.
And if I'm not mistaken, Glen here wants to be the Alpha Fag.
...Why is that such a bad thing? If he's the leader, they'll shoot him first. That's what I'd do. Besides, I don't think I've got any qualifications for being Team Leader. Shooting someone off a boat by accident? Yeah, that doesn't help my resume squat shit, fuck no. If we roll through this place together, we can get home. Glen isn't going to kill me, it won't get him anywhere. And he doesn't seem like the type to kill someone just because. Not crazy, not like Volcano dude.
Glen looked down at his hand like it was covered in shit, but eventually the boy grabbed it, giving it a firm squeeze. Jonas tried not to cringe, Glen didn't figure him to be a tough guy before and he wasn't keen on looking any weaker before his new Leader.
“Uh, right, sooo, we’ll need to head of somewhere, right? Well, anywhere but the ship, unless you wanna do a Todd or something. Well, anyway, last I saw of him he was at the Resort Beach, but he’s bound to have moved by now, so we can cross that one off too. So, uh...”
Heheh. Do a 'Todd'...
“Uh... Jonas? Just so I can get a second opinion, where do you think we should go now?”
Jonas hurried over to Glen's side, staring down at the map. He bit his lip, breathing out slowly and considering the options.
"We started on the ship. If... If I were Vincent, I wouldn't be roamin' around the jungle. I mean, it's a fucking deathtrap. 'Nam shit, no, no. I'd go somewhere safe, somewhere... uh... somewhere where..."
Oh come on Jonas you stupid fuck where would a homicidal maniac go? Why are you even after said homicidal maniac? You should be heading in the opposite direction of where the fuck he's going... But that's not going to get you home is it? Shit, I want to sit down, crack open a soda just relax. Would Glen even shoot, if we found the bastard? I fucking hope so. He said he shot at him before, maybe he like, knicked him or something? No, we should be fine, I've got the Uzi, I bet if I just look at the manual I can figure out how to set it so its not blastin' the entire clip as soon as I- hey, wasn't there a switch on the side, isn't that where it usually is in the movies? I wonder if- OH IDEA!
"He'd head for buildings," Jonas said triumphantly, excitement in his voice. "Yeah, if he has a gun on him he'd want to get right up close to do the most damage. Out in the forest it's too open, no one here is a marksman. If he's intent on playing- which I think he is- he'd head to a building and set up shop there."
Jonas brought his finger down on the map, pointing out two buildings, The Ski Resort and The Resort Hotel.
"Either one. He'd probably head to the Hotel, if he was coming from the beach."
If we're going to take him down, might as well do it where it's not fucking cold. They'll probably have air conditioning there... Oh lawd, air conditioning...
Why does this cock remind me so much of me?
Glen was rather proud, standoffish. Yet as he talked about Vincent, Jonas saw the slightest flicker of uncertainty as he relayed the story. Glen was a braggart, and was probably hiding the truth. A much more embarrassing truth.
Well that makes two of us. I'm not about to tell him I accidentally shot someone and shot up a hallway and acted like a fucking stupid idiot and- OHGOD WHY AM I IN THIS GAME.
So where did that leave them? Two scrawny shirtless boys standing at the lip of a Volcano, sizing each other up and trying to convince one another they were macho. No wonder people were calling them Team Gay.
And if I'm not mistaken, Glen here wants to be the Alpha Fag.
...Why is that such a bad thing? If he's the leader, they'll shoot him first. That's what I'd do. Besides, I don't think I've got any qualifications for being Team Leader. Shooting someone off a boat by accident? Yeah, that doesn't help my resume squat shit, fuck no. If we roll through this place together, we can get home. Glen isn't going to kill me, it won't get him anywhere. And he doesn't seem like the type to kill someone just because. Not crazy, not like Volcano dude.
Glen looked down at his hand like it was covered in shit, but eventually the boy grabbed it, giving it a firm squeeze. Jonas tried not to cringe, Glen didn't figure him to be a tough guy before and he wasn't keen on looking any weaker before his new Leader.
“Uh, right, sooo, we’ll need to head of somewhere, right? Well, anywhere but the ship, unless you wanna do a Todd or something. Well, anyway, last I saw of him he was at the Resort Beach, but he’s bound to have moved by now, so we can cross that one off too. So, uh...”
Heheh. Do a 'Todd'...
“Uh... Jonas? Just so I can get a second opinion, where do you think we should go now?”
Jonas hurried over to Glen's side, staring down at the map. He bit his lip, breathing out slowly and considering the options.
"We started on the ship. If... If I were Vincent, I wouldn't be roamin' around the jungle. I mean, it's a fucking deathtrap. 'Nam shit, no, no. I'd go somewhere safe, somewhere... uh... somewhere where..."
Oh come on Jonas you stupid fuck where would a homicidal maniac go? Why are you even after said homicidal maniac? You should be heading in the opposite direction of where the fuck he's going... But that's not going to get you home is it? Shit, I want to sit down, crack open a soda just relax. Would Glen even shoot, if we found the bastard? I fucking hope so. He said he shot at him before, maybe he like, knicked him or something? No, we should be fine, I've got the Uzi, I bet if I just look at the manual I can figure out how to set it so its not blastin' the entire clip as soon as I- hey, wasn't there a switch on the side, isn't that where it usually is in the movies? I wonder if- OH IDEA!
"He'd head for buildings," Jonas said triumphantly, excitement in his voice. "Yeah, if he has a gun on him he'd want to get right up close to do the most damage. Out in the forest it's too open, no one here is a marksman. If he's intent on playing- which I think he is- he'd head to a building and set up shop there."
Jonas brought his finger down on the map, pointing out two buildings, The Ski Resort and The Resort Hotel.
"Either one. He'd probably head to the Hotel, if he was coming from the beach."
If we're going to take him down, might as well do it where it's not fucking cold. They'll probably have air conditioning there... Oh lawd, air conditioning...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1121
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
At Glen’s words, Jonas hurried over to his side, in order to look at his map. Glen was impressed at how Jonas managed to convey a feeling of nervousness just by standing still and reading. He wasn’t sure whether he’d ever get used to how twitchy the dude was. Jesus, there’s like an eighty per cent chance he’ll shoot someone else on Team Pink, isn’t there?
... Fuck, Glen, focus on the map. Second thoughts only lead to a bullet to the face in this game
Jonas was rambling on about the ship, and also advising against going into the rainforest. “You’re telling me.” Glen growled, memories flooding back into his mind. “Fucking branches. Fucking Suzanne. Yeah, I’m not going back there if I can help it...” Oh. Wait. We’re fucking SURROUNDED by jungle. Nice strategy, Bonus Jonas. God, I seriously need to find a proper building soon. Some proper fucking place to stay, not some hut on a be-woah, wait!
Glen opened his mouth to say something along the lines of “BUILDINGS. LET’S GO THERE.”, when Jonas said, well... pretty much the same thing. Glen nodded at his thoughts. “Yeah, exactly. And in any case, I don’t wanna stay another day away from some form of civilisation.”
Hahaha, “civilisation”. You’re really reaching now, Glen, if you count a couple abandoned buildings as civilisation.
Looking back down at the map, Glen saw that Jonas was pointing out two areas; the hotel and the ski resort. The choice was obvious, and Glen immediately let his thoughts known.
“Oh, fuck the ski resort! Seriously, never going there again if I can help it. Let’s just head off to the hotel, k?”
Swiping the map away from Jonas, Glen picked his bag up, removing the compass from it in the process, and put the bag on his back. Studying the map and compass closely, Glen gestured in a direction. “Okay, so, the hotel’s south of here, right? And according to this, south’s thattaway. So!” Folding the map , and stuffing it and the compass in his pocket, Glen started jogging in the direction he’d pointed out, shouting behind him “C’mon dude! No time like the present, and all that bullshit.”
((Glen Bole continued in Metanoia))
... Fuck, Glen, focus on the map. Second thoughts only lead to a bullet to the face in this game
Jonas was rambling on about the ship, and also advising against going into the rainforest. “You’re telling me.” Glen growled, memories flooding back into his mind. “Fucking branches. Fucking Suzanne. Yeah, I’m not going back there if I can help it...” Oh. Wait. We’re fucking SURROUNDED by jungle. Nice strategy, Bonus Jonas. God, I seriously need to find a proper building soon. Some proper fucking place to stay, not some hut on a be-woah, wait!
Glen opened his mouth to say something along the lines of “BUILDINGS. LET’S GO THERE.”, when Jonas said, well... pretty much the same thing. Glen nodded at his thoughts. “Yeah, exactly. And in any case, I don’t wanna stay another day away from some form of civilisation.”
Hahaha, “civilisation”. You’re really reaching now, Glen, if you count a couple abandoned buildings as civilisation.
Looking back down at the map, Glen saw that Jonas was pointing out two areas; the hotel and the ski resort. The choice was obvious, and Glen immediately let his thoughts known.
“Oh, fuck the ski resort! Seriously, never going there again if I can help it. Let’s just head off to the hotel, k?”
Swiping the map away from Jonas, Glen picked his bag up, removing the compass from it in the process, and put the bag on his back. Studying the map and compass closely, Glen gestured in a direction. “Okay, so, the hotel’s south of here, right? And according to this, south’s thattaway. So!” Folding the map , and stuffing it and the compass in his pocket, Glen started jogging in the direction he’d pointed out, shouting behind him “C’mon dude! No time like the present, and all that bullshit.”
((Glen Bole continued in Metanoia))
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Little Boy*
- Posts: 102
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 5:35 am
Jonas let Glen lead the way. His behavior was annoying, true. But Jonas would just have to live with it, especially if he was intent on getting out alive. Glen needed him as much as he needed Glen, Jonas reminded himself. Two guns were always better then one, especially here.
We'll get out. We've got a really good chance, don't we?
Jonas followed Glen into the woods, keeping his gun up and at the ready.
((Jonas continues in Metanoia))
We'll get out. We've got a really good chance, don't we?
Jonas followed Glen into the woods, keeping his gun up and at the ready.
((Jonas continues in Metanoia))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. 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.