Reason It Out
Tagging Cactus (Open!)
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Primrosette
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Got him....
Tiny felt a smirk coming onto his face and he sidestepped the punch. He felt Sebbo's fist slam against the side of his arm but he didn't think that it was too much damage and he knew that he had to make his next move. He didn't have time to think. He just had to do something.
So he grabbed at Sebbo's fist and he pulled the other boy closer towards him, using his other hand to drive a hard punch into the other boy's stomach. Then he raised his knee up to knee him right in the groin.
He had to get Sebbo down and out for the count. Then he could deal with the other problem on the beach.
Tiny felt a smirk coming onto his face and he sidestepped the punch. He felt Sebbo's fist slam against the side of his arm but he didn't think that it was too much damage and he knew that he had to make his next move. He didn't have time to think. He just had to do something.
So he grabbed at Sebbo's fist and he pulled the other boy closer towards him, using his other hand to drive a hard punch into the other boy's stomach. Then he raised his knee up to knee him right in the groin.
He had to get Sebbo down and out for the count. Then he could deal with the other problem on the beach.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
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HOW MANY TIMES DOES HE HAVE TO BE KICKED IN THE DICK! FUCKING HELL! Sebbo wished he had a smaller dick so it wouldn't always be the first target to-
AH! His crotch burned.
It fucking burnt.
Literally.
Sofia told him to cheat, to be dishonorable! And that's what he fucking gets for listening to this bitch. You try to cheat your dick gets caught on fire. Motherfucker.
Sebbo went to the ground, rolling around, touching his crotch area that was slowly but visibly being ignited, smoke erupted out there, huffing and screaming, he pulled the hidden flare gun out, aimed at Tiny and fired.
AH! His crotch burned.
It fucking burnt.
Literally.
Sofia told him to cheat, to be dishonorable! And that's what he fucking gets for listening to this bitch. You try to cheat your dick gets caught on fire. Motherfucker.
Sebbo went to the ground, rolling around, touching his crotch area that was slowly but visibly being ignited, smoke erupted out there, huffing and screaming, he pulled the hidden flare gun out, aimed at Tiny and fired.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Primrosette
- Posts: 901
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"What the fuck...?!"
Tiny had not expected the scene of Sebbo's crotch being on fire and he felt himself stepping back away from the boy in complete shock and surprise. What was going on?! Tiny had no idea what the hell he had done to Sebbo and then he noticed that Sebbo was taking something out into his hands. It was a flare gun!
"What the hel-"
Sebbo fired a shot at him and he felt the flare bounce against his shirt, making him gasp fearfully. Tiny felt his shirt catching on fire and he fell backwards onto the sand, trying to rip off his shirt as quickly as he could. He could feel it burning through his shirt to his skin a little.
He let out a yell of pain as he managed to get it off and he threw the shirt over to the ocean, panting and breathing heavily. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! He had almost fucking died because of that psycho! He glanced down at himself and winced in pain. There was a bit of a burn on his stomach and a little of his flesh had came off.
"Ughh…. Fuck, fuck...!"
Tiny had not expected the scene of Sebbo's crotch being on fire and he felt himself stepping back away from the boy in complete shock and surprise. What was going on?! Tiny had no idea what the hell he had done to Sebbo and then he noticed that Sebbo was taking something out into his hands. It was a flare gun!
"What the hel-"
Sebbo fired a shot at him and he felt the flare bounce against his shirt, making him gasp fearfully. Tiny felt his shirt catching on fire and he fell backwards onto the sand, trying to rip off his shirt as quickly as he could. He could feel it burning through his shirt to his skin a little.
He let out a yell of pain as he managed to get it off and he threw the shirt over to the ocean, panting and breathing heavily. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! He had almost fucking died because of that psycho! He glanced down at himself and winced in pain. There was a bit of a burn on his stomach and a little of his flesh had came off.
"Ughh…. Fuck, fuck...!"
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
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Sebbo used the opportunity of the distracted Tiny to bolt into the water. Water, water, yes! Why did he think hiding a gun in his underwear was a good idea? The water made him feel better. The burning had stopped. Wetted and walking weirdly, he ran to his scythe and ran away from the boys.
((Sebbo continued elsewhere))
((Sebbo continued elsewhere))
I'm so glad to be back !
Well what do you know, Tiny had truly fallen off the moral highground.
Of course, it stung a little that Oliver wasn't taken as the immediate threat. For one thing, Oliver had a giant rifle in his hands, a bulletproof vest on his chest, another gun in his back pocket, and the kill of this place's biggest threat besides himself to his name. Meanwhile, Sebbo was one head injury away from being a mong, and the fact he set his own crotch on fire during whatever that fight with Tiny only set that in stone. If Oliver was capable of doing so, he could have gunned all three of them down easily, and one of them without any guilt at all. That 'one' being Tiny, of course.
Oliver had a plan when he came to the beach, and luckily for him Tiny pretty much did the first part all by himself when he handed Fisher his gun. So his attention was now shifted from the pointless fight to the practical jokester. He shifted on his feet in the sand to the other boy.
"When Tiny gets back here, I'm going to need you to give us some space. And, well, it's probably for the best for you if you don't give him that gun back."
The fingers holding the front stock of the gun flexed in a wave.
Of course, it stung a little that Oliver wasn't taken as the immediate threat. For one thing, Oliver had a giant rifle in his hands, a bulletproof vest on his chest, another gun in his back pocket, and the kill of this place's biggest threat besides himself to his name. Meanwhile, Sebbo was one head injury away from being a mong, and the fact he set his own crotch on fire during whatever that fight with Tiny only set that in stone. If Oliver was capable of doing so, he could have gunned all three of them down easily, and one of them without any guilt at all. That 'one' being Tiny, of course.
Oliver had a plan when he came to the beach, and luckily for him Tiny pretty much did the first part all by himself when he handed Fisher his gun. So his attention was now shifted from the pointless fight to the practical jokester. He shifted on his feet in the sand to the other boy.
"When Tiny gets back here, I'm going to need you to give us some space. And, well, it's probably for the best for you if you don't give him that gun back."
The fingers holding the front stock of the gun flexed in a wave.
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Cactus
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Fisticuffs happened almost immediately, and while Fisher had been prepared for the fight — which his rational mind kept screaming at him didn't need to happen, the gun that was suddenly pressed into his hand told him that as far as Tiny were concerned, it did. And it was.
So it went.
Notwithstanding the situation they were in, and even though he was probably one of ten people still alive on this godforsaken resort island, he still gawked at the scene in front of him, forgetting that Oliver and his wicked-looking machine gun were also right there. Finally, after watching in relative silence, Oliver said something to him. He wanted — wait, what?
Fisher turned and looked at Oliver, as though understanding for the first time in a while just what was happening. Oliver had the upper hand with his own arsenal, and Tiny had given away his firepower, which immediately made Fisher the second-most threatening person on the beach, what with his pitchfork and pistol.
What the fuck?
Oliver addressed the gun, and Tiny's return, and what did he even mean, Fisher would give them some space? Were him and Tiny going to have a duel of their own once Sebbo and Tiny finished off? That was preposterous, and yet...
"Give him the gun back," he echoed, and looked down as though seeing it for the first time. His hands tightened around the gun. If they truly were in such a state, Fisher half-wondered if he'd even be willing to give the gun back to Tiny at this point.
Taking a step back from Oliver, Fisher kept the gun pointed at the ground, trying to appear non-threatening — feeling non-threatening, truly — and analyzing the whole situation before him. The same still applied. Were he to run off, Oliver would likely shoot him. Once Tiny came back, Oliver would likely shoot them. His fear building, Fisher swallowed some more salty ocean air.
"Yeah, no — that's, you can have all the space you want."
He tried to make himself sound less terrified than he was, but that effort failed miserably. In another time or place, he'd probably have made some sort of crack or silly remark. But not today.
Perhaps not ever again.
"What're you gonna do?"
The question slipped out almost as quickly as it entered his mind. Oh well; he may as well be upfront —what was the harm in that? There was no pretending anymore, no more denial. In the next day, most or all of them would be dead. That was a fact that eventually, all of them would have to accept. A fact that just now, Fisher was slowly starting to truly understand. Even the fear which had only days before gripped him like a vice seemed almost comfortable.
Almost.
So it went.
Notwithstanding the situation they were in, and even though he was probably one of ten people still alive on this godforsaken resort island, he still gawked at the scene in front of him, forgetting that Oliver and his wicked-looking machine gun were also right there. Finally, after watching in relative silence, Oliver said something to him. He wanted — wait, what?
Fisher turned and looked at Oliver, as though understanding for the first time in a while just what was happening. Oliver had the upper hand with his own arsenal, and Tiny had given away his firepower, which immediately made Fisher the second-most threatening person on the beach, what with his pitchfork and pistol.
What the fuck?
Oliver addressed the gun, and Tiny's return, and what did he even mean, Fisher would give them some space? Were him and Tiny going to have a duel of their own once Sebbo and Tiny finished off? That was preposterous, and yet...
"Give him the gun back," he echoed, and looked down as though seeing it for the first time. His hands tightened around the gun. If they truly were in such a state, Fisher half-wondered if he'd even be willing to give the gun back to Tiny at this point.
Taking a step back from Oliver, Fisher kept the gun pointed at the ground, trying to appear non-threatening — feeling non-threatening, truly — and analyzing the whole situation before him. The same still applied. Were he to run off, Oliver would likely shoot him. Once Tiny came back, Oliver would likely shoot them. His fear building, Fisher swallowed some more salty ocean air.
"Yeah, no — that's, you can have all the space you want."
He tried to make himself sound less terrified than he was, but that effort failed miserably. In another time or place, he'd probably have made some sort of crack or silly remark. But not today.
Perhaps not ever again.
"What're you gonna do?"
The question slipped out almost as quickly as it entered his mind. Oh well; he may as well be upfront —what was the harm in that? There was no pretending anymore, no more denial. In the next day, most or all of them would be dead. That was a fact that eventually, all of them would have to accept. A fact that just now, Fisher was slowly starting to truly understand. Even the fear which had only days before gripped him like a vice seemed almost comfortable.
Almost.
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Primrosette
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Tiny was just laying on his side on the sand and he was trying to take deep breathes to calm himself down. He turned his head a little and he noticed that Sebbo was gone. The prick had fucking cheated and Tiny knew that he should have realized that Sebbo would have a dirty trick up his sleeve. Well, it was done now and he hoped that he never had to see that motherfucker again. He honestly wondered how much more of this shit he would take. His mind wondered to Fisher for a few moments and he remembered that he just wanted to make Fisher survive longer than him.
The shirtless boy raised his hand to his chest and his fingers touched the necklace that he had on. He didn't want to feel anything from it but his grip on it tightened and a single tear rolled down his cheek, making him remember how much he missed being at home. He didn't want to be distracted by his memories of a happier life and he wiped the tear away with the back of his hand. He then slowly made himself get up to his feet and he then made his way over to the two boys who were waiting for him.
Looks like I have to deal with you now, Ollie-boy. I know that you are more dangerous and I have to be smarter with you. ....But how?
Tiny was now standing about ten or eleven steps away from Oliver and Fisher and he stayed there with a serious expression on his face, his focus was all on Oliver now. "Well, now that loser is fuckin' gone. So now..." He didn't even care if he didn't have his gun in that moment and if he died now.... He was taking Oliver with him. "...We have some unfinished business, right, Ollie-boy?"
Tiny didn't even stop the wide-ass smirk from showing up on his face. He wanted to let Oliver see it. He wanted to make the boy mess something up. So he had to be prepared to get hurt during whatever was going to happen between the two of them.
The shirtless boy raised his hand to his chest and his fingers touched the necklace that he had on. He didn't want to feel anything from it but his grip on it tightened and a single tear rolled down his cheek, making him remember how much he missed being at home. He didn't want to be distracted by his memories of a happier life and he wiped the tear away with the back of his hand. He then slowly made himself get up to his feet and he then made his way over to the two boys who were waiting for him.
Looks like I have to deal with you now, Ollie-boy. I know that you are more dangerous and I have to be smarter with you. ....But how?
Tiny was now standing about ten or eleven steps away from Oliver and Fisher and he stayed there with a serious expression on his face, his focus was all on Oliver now. "Well, now that loser is fuckin' gone. So now..." He didn't even care if he didn't have his gun in that moment and if he died now.... He was taking Oliver with him. "...We have some unfinished business, right, Ollie-boy?"
Tiny didn't even stop the wide-ass smirk from showing up on his face. He wanted to let Oliver see it. He wanted to make the boy mess something up. So he had to be prepared to get hurt during whatever was going to happen between the two of them.
"Nothing. Just wanna talk to him," Oliver lied.
Tiny eventually acknowledged he was there. Oliver had yet to have any of his assumptions of the other boy doubted, especially with that unearned swagger and confidence he so confidently nicknamed Oliver with. 'Ollie-boy'. Almost like a child just learning how to be witty. Because Ollie was the first two synonyms of his name, and boy was his gender. Remarkable. If Tiny got out of here somehow, he should write propoganda poetry for the homeland, he had such a way with the mother language.
Still, he was there for a reason. He tightened his grip on the front stock.
"Not really, pin dick. Barely even remembered you were around until I saw you. If I had unfinished business with anyone, it'd be Rajni. You know she shot me with a net after you left? Not fun."
Even with nearly single digits people alive, Oliver couldn't help but digress. It wasn't proper, but he was somehow stuck in his patterns.
"I did have a question for you, though."
He cocked his head to the side.
"Why do you think Anvi died, Tiny?"
Tiny eventually acknowledged he was there. Oliver had yet to have any of his assumptions of the other boy doubted, especially with that unearned swagger and confidence he so confidently nicknamed Oliver with. 'Ollie-boy'. Almost like a child just learning how to be witty. Because Ollie was the first two synonyms of his name, and boy was his gender. Remarkable. If Tiny got out of here somehow, he should write propoganda poetry for the homeland, he had such a way with the mother language.
Still, he was there for a reason. He tightened his grip on the front stock.
"Not really, pin dick. Barely even remembered you were around until I saw you. If I had unfinished business with anyone, it'd be Rajni. You know she shot me with a net after you left? Not fun."
Even with nearly single digits people alive, Oliver couldn't help but digress. It wasn't proper, but he was somehow stuck in his patterns.
"I did have a question for you, though."
He cocked his head to the side.
"Why do you think Anvi died, Tiny?"
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Primrosette
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Tiny felt himself rolling his eyes out of annoyance at Oliver's 'poor me' bullshit; although that kind of made him a bit of a hypocrite as he had felt sorry for himself after what he had done with Lucy and Penny and now he was going to have to try to not provoke the guy with a gun. His eyes wandered to Fisher for a second and then he focused back on the other boy that was in front of him.
"What? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? I'm sad that I missed Rajni doin' that to you. I would have had more respect for her." He wasn't even lying about it and he was sure that he would have laughed a little at the scene if he had witnessed it. It would have been a bit messed-up but Tiny was honestly pissed off at Oliver at that time and now Oliver was here again. "Scratch that. I do respect her more than a little bitch like you...."
Tiny couldn't be bothered with the niceties as there were not that many of them left and he really didn't care about Oliver at all. But he was still a threat to him and Fisher and he had to make sure not to do anything until it was the right time to do so.
Tiny raised an eyebrow at Oliver's question about Anvi and he was trying to focus more on Oliver's face, wondering why he was even asking him about it. Was this supposed to be a distraction or something like that? Tiny wasn't sure where this was going with Oliver and he knew that he had to answer the other boy.
"Why do I think Anvi died...?"
He paused for a while, listening to the sounds of the waves behind him.
"...Because everyone has to die. Right?" He said in a cautious tone and his foot moved forward a little in the sand. "You're not about to say some shit like 'it's for the greater good' or somethin' dumb like that, are you?"
"What? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? I'm sad that I missed Rajni doin' that to you. I would have had more respect for her." He wasn't even lying about it and he was sure that he would have laughed a little at the scene if he had witnessed it. It would have been a bit messed-up but Tiny was honestly pissed off at Oliver at that time and now Oliver was here again. "Scratch that. I do respect her more than a little bitch like you...."
Tiny couldn't be bothered with the niceties as there were not that many of them left and he really didn't care about Oliver at all. But he was still a threat to him and Fisher and he had to make sure not to do anything until it was the right time to do so.
Tiny raised an eyebrow at Oliver's question about Anvi and he was trying to focus more on Oliver's face, wondering why he was even asking him about it. Was this supposed to be a distraction or something like that? Tiny wasn't sure where this was going with Oliver and he knew that he had to answer the other boy.
"Why do I think Anvi died...?"
He paused for a while, listening to the sounds of the waves behind him.
"...Because everyone has to die. Right?" He said in a cautious tone and his foot moved forward a little in the sand. "You're not about to say some shit like 'it's for the greater good' or somethin' dumb like that, are you?"
Tiny was an angry little boy and if Fisher were as observant as he was jokey, he would know this was only going to go one way.
But Oliver didn't make a move yet. He wasn't stuck, he wasn't struggling. He had all the power in this scenario, and he was watching Tiny thrash about like a decked trout. Oliver was simply standing still. Watching.
For some reason, the other boy assumed Oliver was being abstract. Like Oliver was suddenly their English teacher, asking about themes and essays, looking for the smartest answers to praise to the rest of the class like an A-level shirt-lifter. Did Tiny think his story was thematic as well? If this was a book, was Tiny the hero of his own story? As the other boy again launched an unprovoked attack, Oliver couldn't help but be amused.
"What is it with everyone on this bloody...island, peninsula, cropping, whatever, acting like they're in some tosspot of a kids book? I'm talking about you, Tiny, in case that wasn't clear."
Oliver's grip readjusted itself on the stock once again, as though any moment left unchecked would slip into oblivion.
"I was being literal. Here's how Anvi died. We were having a conversation about how we were going to survive here, and what we were going to do to get to the end. I turned around, to put something in my bag, she rushed me and tried to kill me. Bashed my head against a rock. I put a bullet in her chest trying to get her to stop trying to kill me, and she still kept going, and she didn't stop until I emptied the whole chamber."
He turned to Fisher. He was calm.
"Different gun, of course."
He turned back to Tiny. He remained calm.
"And yet, when I showed up at that beach yesterday, and nearly passed out, and threw up on myself, and told all of you about the concussion she gave me, I couldn't help but notice you yelled something about how I deserved it, and Anvi went down fighting against a murderer like me. And that hurt, I'm not gonna lie. I did murder Anvi, even if she did attack me first. But then I got to thinking...you were on those announcements as well, weren't you Tiny?"
Oliver was still calm.
"In fact, you were there twice. You killed twice as many people as I did...at that point, anyway...and yet, somehow, I'm the evil murderer?"
The incredibly calm Oliver turned to Fisher, with an eerily calm smiling across his face.
"Doesn't that sound crazy to you?"
The incredibly calm Oliver with an eerily calm smile on his face turned back to Tiny.
"So if I'm a murderer for killing one person in my own defense...what does that make you, Tiny?"
But Oliver didn't make a move yet. He wasn't stuck, he wasn't struggling. He had all the power in this scenario, and he was watching Tiny thrash about like a decked trout. Oliver was simply standing still. Watching.
For some reason, the other boy assumed Oliver was being abstract. Like Oliver was suddenly their English teacher, asking about themes and essays, looking for the smartest answers to praise to the rest of the class like an A-level shirt-lifter. Did Tiny think his story was thematic as well? If this was a book, was Tiny the hero of his own story? As the other boy again launched an unprovoked attack, Oliver couldn't help but be amused.
"What is it with everyone on this bloody...island, peninsula, cropping, whatever, acting like they're in some tosspot of a kids book? I'm talking about you, Tiny, in case that wasn't clear."
Oliver's grip readjusted itself on the stock once again, as though any moment left unchecked would slip into oblivion.
"I was being literal. Here's how Anvi died. We were having a conversation about how we were going to survive here, and what we were going to do to get to the end. I turned around, to put something in my bag, she rushed me and tried to kill me. Bashed my head against a rock. I put a bullet in her chest trying to get her to stop trying to kill me, and she still kept going, and she didn't stop until I emptied the whole chamber."
He turned to Fisher. He was calm.
"Different gun, of course."
He turned back to Tiny. He remained calm.
"And yet, when I showed up at that beach yesterday, and nearly passed out, and threw up on myself, and told all of you about the concussion she gave me, I couldn't help but notice you yelled something about how I deserved it, and Anvi went down fighting against a murderer like me. And that hurt, I'm not gonna lie. I did murder Anvi, even if she did attack me first. But then I got to thinking...you were on those announcements as well, weren't you Tiny?"
Oliver was still calm.
"In fact, you were there twice. You killed twice as many people as I did...at that point, anyway...and yet, somehow, I'm the evil murderer?"
The incredibly calm Oliver turned to Fisher, with an eerily calm smiling across his face.
"Doesn't that sound crazy to you?"
The incredibly calm Oliver with an eerily calm smile on his face turned back to Tiny.
"So if I'm a murderer for killing one person in my own defense...what does that make you, Tiny?"
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Cactus
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In another life, Fisher might have bought the line that Oliver was selling him in regards to his intentions. Hell, he might have just let it all pass by in the interests of keeping the peace. But the time for inaction and letting things pass had come and gone, and Oliver very clearly had cruel intentions in his eyes. As Tiny approached, the two boys began to jaw at one another, barely letting Fisher get a word in edgewise.
"Bullshit," he finally blurted out after a few moments of venomous barbs going back and forth. "You're full of it, mate. We're a little past the holier-than-thou act, aren't we? We've all done horrible things."
They were all killers, now. Tiny had drawn blood, he had done horrible things in the name of his own survival. Yet Fisher had seen firsthand how given a moment to stop and think, his deeds had shaken him to his core. Oliver's name was a familiar refrain from those still alive. He'd killed, and judging by the vitriol and arrogance he spouted off with, it didn't bother him all that much. They had both taken lives, and that seemed to be Oliver's sticking point.
Well, all of them but him, of course.
He was not a member of that horrible club, not yet. He hoped, not ever.
It was a feeble thought, a futile one, and he turned the pistol in his hands with an uncomfortable look on his face. He'd said it to them - they'd all done horrible things, but what was his guilt? That he'd moved a body? That he couldn't save a classmate from a fall? That he couldn't see homicidal urges from another before it had been too late?
He felt guilty about all of it, but was any of it truly his fault - the answer was very obviously no, and he knew it. No matter how much he tried to crucify himself, Fisher knew that all he'd done was be scared, try not to give up, and try to maintain his own humanity. It wasn't noble, it wasn't some sense of justice or self that he was clinging to. All he was trying to do was survive another day. Survive this awful situation. Do something good before it was all over with.
Standing here while things degenerated didn't seem like a good way to further that goal.
His hand tightened its grip around the pistol. It remained at his side, but he decided that no matter what, he wasn't going to part with it. If they fought, and Oliver won, Fisher was as good as dead.
"It doesn't matter what you think you are," his voice went as serious as he could muster, "in the end, you're both still human beings. Have you forgotten that? I sure fucking haven't."
"Bullshit," he finally blurted out after a few moments of venomous barbs going back and forth. "You're full of it, mate. We're a little past the holier-than-thou act, aren't we? We've all done horrible things."
They were all killers, now. Tiny had drawn blood, he had done horrible things in the name of his own survival. Yet Fisher had seen firsthand how given a moment to stop and think, his deeds had shaken him to his core. Oliver's name was a familiar refrain from those still alive. He'd killed, and judging by the vitriol and arrogance he spouted off with, it didn't bother him all that much. They had both taken lives, and that seemed to be Oliver's sticking point.
Well, all of them but him, of course.
He was not a member of that horrible club, not yet. He hoped, not ever.
It was a feeble thought, a futile one, and he turned the pistol in his hands with an uncomfortable look on his face. He'd said it to them - they'd all done horrible things, but what was his guilt? That he'd moved a body? That he couldn't save a classmate from a fall? That he couldn't see homicidal urges from another before it had been too late?
He felt guilty about all of it, but was any of it truly his fault - the answer was very obviously no, and he knew it. No matter how much he tried to crucify himself, Fisher knew that all he'd done was be scared, try not to give up, and try to maintain his own humanity. It wasn't noble, it wasn't some sense of justice or self that he was clinging to. All he was trying to do was survive another day. Survive this awful situation. Do something good before it was all over with.
Standing here while things degenerated didn't seem like a good way to further that goal.
His hand tightened its grip around the pistol. It remained at his side, but he decided that no matter what, he wasn't going to part with it. If they fought, and Oliver won, Fisher was as good as dead.
"It doesn't matter what you think you are," his voice went as serious as he could muster, "in the end, you're both still human beings. Have you forgotten that? I sure fucking haven't."
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Primrosette
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Tiny felt the jabs that Oliver was throwing at him about being, well, a hypocrite in a way and his hands were hanging loosely at his sides, not clenching them into fists that he wanted to swing at Oliver's face. No, he couldn't sink any lower than he had before and he had a feeling that Oliver was trying to possibly provoke him into attacking him. Fuck that sound!
Tiny was about to answer Oliver but Fisher butted in with his own words and Tiny found that his eyes were on Fisher again. Human beings? Us? Aren't we both monsters for taking away people's lives? Maybe I just don't understand why Fisher believes and I guess it's okay that he has a different mindset from me and Oliver.
He thought of Penny.
He thought of Lucy.
He had definitely fucked up so badly with them and now he was trying his hardest to do right by Fisher's side. But they were in the final stages of this bullshit and there was no way that they could turn back now from all of the terrible things that they have done. Not him. Not Oliver. Not anyone else who had hurt people because they both had stupid reasons for doing so.
"Fisher."
He didn't know what he could even say to the other boy and all he could do was give the guy a weak nod and a small, sad smile. He didn't know how long he could keep this up and he knew that Oliver was starting to creep him out with how eerily calm he was. This boy was definitely not normal anymore. However....
"Hey, Oliver. I have a question for you."
Tiny was now about eight or seven steps away from Oliver and he was feeling a bit antsy. Feeling that he was about one more step away from the grave. This was definitely going to bit him in the ass, wasn't it?
"....So if you ended up bein' the one who survives this.... What are you goin' to do afterwards?" He asked curiously, staring at Oliver with a serious look on his tired-looking face.
Tiny was about to answer Oliver but Fisher butted in with his own words and Tiny found that his eyes were on Fisher again. Human beings? Us? Aren't we both monsters for taking away people's lives? Maybe I just don't understand why Fisher believes and I guess it's okay that he has a different mindset from me and Oliver.
He thought of Penny.
He thought of Lucy.
He had definitely fucked up so badly with them and now he was trying his hardest to do right by Fisher's side. But they were in the final stages of this bullshit and there was no way that they could turn back now from all of the terrible things that they have done. Not him. Not Oliver. Not anyone else who had hurt people because they both had stupid reasons for doing so.
"Fisher."
He didn't know what he could even say to the other boy and all he could do was give the guy a weak nod and a small, sad smile. He didn't know how long he could keep this up and he knew that Oliver was starting to creep him out with how eerily calm he was. This boy was definitely not normal anymore. However....
"Hey, Oliver. I have a question for you."
Tiny was now about eight or seven steps away from Oliver and he was feeling a bit antsy. Feeling that he was about one more step away from the grave. This was definitely going to bit him in the ass, wasn't it?
"....So if you ended up bein' the one who survives this.... What are you goin' to do afterwards?" He asked curiously, staring at Oliver with a serious look on his tired-looking face.
"I suppose that's for me to know, and you to never find out, isn't it?"
Tiny thought he was clever, avoiding the question like he did. Unfortunately, Oliver had a very specific kind of answer he was trying to get out of the other boy, so he wasn't letting that go.
He noticed that Tiny had been looking over at Fisher, like he was going to help. His little outburst about how they're both human beings fell on Oliver's deaf ears, because that ground had been covered the moment he shot Samuel's leg out. No, they weren't humans. They were statistics. Stop pretending you're brand new, Fisher. It doesn't become you.
But Oliver's hands weren't gripped around a gun because he was focused on the wrong things. He had a job here.
"I wasn't being rhetorical, by the way. I wanted an answer. So I repeat myself, Tiny - if I'm a murderer for defending myself once, then what does that make you?"
Tiny thought he was clever, avoiding the question like he did. Unfortunately, Oliver had a very specific kind of answer he was trying to get out of the other boy, so he wasn't letting that go.
He noticed that Tiny had been looking over at Fisher, like he was going to help. His little outburst about how they're both human beings fell on Oliver's deaf ears, because that ground had been covered the moment he shot Samuel's leg out. No, they weren't humans. They were statistics. Stop pretending you're brand new, Fisher. It doesn't become you.
But Oliver's hands weren't gripped around a gun because he was focused on the wrong things. He had a job here.
"I wasn't being rhetorical, by the way. I wanted an answer. So I repeat myself, Tiny - if I'm a murderer for defending myself once, then what does that make you?"
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
"Just — just stop. Think about this for a second," Fisher was basically pleading now. The way that Oliver was talking; his manner, the way that he was lording over them with a nihilistic high ground, it was unnerving, and Fisher didn't see the point in it. So they had both killed people. It didn't matter what the justification was, in the end. All that truly mattered was the ability to own your actions and match it with the character within you. That was what he would have told himself a few weeks ago, but somehow his outlook had gone and changed in the past few days.
Fisher couldn't help but wonder just how that had happened.
It mattered, all right. Oliver was right, but he was also wrong at the same time. Hell, it all confused him to try and think about. Both of them were thinking and alluding to a future that in all likelihood, all three of them lacked. The Americans had forced them into this predicament, and there wasn't a damn thing that could be done about it. Not now. Not when everything was so far gone.
His hands tightened around the pistol. Fisher wasn't sure he could grip it any tighter. Right now it was less a weapon and more a stress ball. Whatever road Oliver was trying to lead Tiny down, he didn't like it; not one iota. Tiny smiled wistfully at Fisher, a sad smile. The boy was beaten down, and if Oliver was trying to demoralize him before he picked them both off, well — he recalled just how quickly the larger boy had broken down in the bar, when Fisher had confronted him point-blank about his murderous intentions. Something had changed within him at that point, and even after he'd killed Lucy, he could see that every moment was weighing him down.
"This isn't who we are; it's not who we have to be." He paused, looked from Tiny to Oliver and back again, his words aimed more at the latter. "No one else has to die."
Fisher couldn't help but wonder just how that had happened.
It mattered, all right. Oliver was right, but he was also wrong at the same time. Hell, it all confused him to try and think about. Both of them were thinking and alluding to a future that in all likelihood, all three of them lacked. The Americans had forced them into this predicament, and there wasn't a damn thing that could be done about it. Not now. Not when everything was so far gone.
His hands tightened around the pistol. Fisher wasn't sure he could grip it any tighter. Right now it was less a weapon and more a stress ball. Whatever road Oliver was trying to lead Tiny down, he didn't like it; not one iota. Tiny smiled wistfully at Fisher, a sad smile. The boy was beaten down, and if Oliver was trying to demoralize him before he picked them both off, well — he recalled just how quickly the larger boy had broken down in the bar, when Fisher had confronted him point-blank about his murderous intentions. Something had changed within him at that point, and even after he'd killed Lucy, he could see that every moment was weighing him down.
"This isn't who we are; it's not who we have to be." He paused, looked from Tiny to Oliver and back again, his words aimed more at the latter. "No one else has to die."