'You know, sometimes, it's hard being the smartest person in the area. Especially when you, yourself, are an idiot.'
Pippi raised the gun in the air RJ knew it was a mistake. Talking wasn't actually a free action, like most movies and media would have you believe. All it did was give someone ample time to try and kill you.
Anthony tried to run-grab the gun, tackle Pippi, get his ass out of there, didn't matter what exactly it was-he was running Pippi's way and if he wasn't stopped, they were both just future corpses.
So RJ did the only thing he could think of doing.
He grabbed Anthony's legs and screamed.
"SHOOT HIM!"
A Time to Build And A Time to Destroy
Open! Night 2, 9:30 PM
"Wh-"
Something hit her body, but it wasn't Anthony. It came from behind. She saw stars. She saw lights. She saw something inside of her.
Pippi realized she had jumped backward, and the gun fell out of her hands. She hit something. She didn't know what it was.
She couldn't turn, but she assumed it was the thick rim around the patrol boat. Of course it was. She had forgotten where her body existed.
It was the usually Pippi mistake. Miscalculating herself. Her width and breadth. It was always the same problem. A point on a graph.
That's what she really. So why didn't it connect to her brain. Were her wires wrong? They weren't. She still felt the impact when she slammed into the side of the boat. Her body felt wrong. It always felt wrong.
She gasped. She gasped hard. It felt like she was drawing blood out of her lungs.
"Stop..." she let it trail off. They weren't going to listen. The gun wasn't in her hands anymore. "It's gone. I told you guys."
Something hit her body, but it wasn't Anthony. It came from behind. She saw stars. She saw lights. She saw something inside of her.
Pippi realized she had jumped backward, and the gun fell out of her hands. She hit something. She didn't know what it was.
She couldn't turn, but she assumed it was the thick rim around the patrol boat. Of course it was. She had forgotten where her body existed.
It was the usually Pippi mistake. Miscalculating herself. Her width and breadth. It was always the same problem. A point on a graph.
That's what she really. So why didn't it connect to her brain. Were her wires wrong? They weren't. She still felt the impact when she slammed into the side of the boat. Her body felt wrong. It always felt wrong.
She gasped. She gasped hard. It felt like she was drawing blood out of her lungs.
"Stop..." she let it trail off. They weren't going to listen. The gun wasn't in her hands anymore. "It's gone. I told you guys."
-
Applesintime
- Posts: 836
- Joined: Sat Jul 04, 2020 11:57 am
- Team Affiliation: Ben's Crabs
With a grunt, Anthony slammed into the ground. He was able to throw out his arms so he didn't break his nose or anything, but wow, his wrists fucking hurt. And then Pippi said something, and he looked up. The gun was gone.
FUCK! Stupid fucking Pineapple bitch, stupid fucking RJ arsehole, stupid fucking everything. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stupid fucking Pippi. Why was she assisting a player? Couldn't she see, just see from his perspective for one second, realise that killing a killer was good and that it meant there'd be one less murderer walking around her? Now the gun was gone. To the bottom of the sea, to Davy Jones' Locker. Maybe he'd shoot them and blow the fucking boat up or something.
And then, miraculously, he saw a glint of metal, stuck on some kind of metallic part near the end of the boat. The gun was still there. It just looked like it had went overboard. This was crucial. He didn't know if they had seen it. He didn't know if they would see it. But he needed to get out of RJ's grasp, and he was holding on tighter than a roadman to a cheap shitty knife he stole from his mum.
"Alright, there, the fucking gun's gone. Are you fucking happy! Let me go, for fuck's sake!" Without waiting for an answer from RJ, he pulled out that tiny broken bottle, stabbing at RJ's hand, arm, whatever. He just needed to let go so he could get the gun, and then get the ammo, and they'd all be happy as Larry.
FUCK! Stupid fucking Pineapple bitch, stupid fucking RJ arsehole, stupid fucking everything. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stupid fucking Pippi. Why was she assisting a player? Couldn't she see, just see from his perspective for one second, realise that killing a killer was good and that it meant there'd be one less murderer walking around her? Now the gun was gone. To the bottom of the sea, to Davy Jones' Locker. Maybe he'd shoot them and blow the fucking boat up or something.
And then, miraculously, he saw a glint of metal, stuck on some kind of metallic part near the end of the boat. The gun was still there. It just looked like it had went overboard. This was crucial. He didn't know if they had seen it. He didn't know if they would see it. But he needed to get out of RJ's grasp, and he was holding on tighter than a roadman to a cheap shitty knife he stole from his mum.
"Alright, there, the fucking gun's gone. Are you fucking happy! Let me go, for fuck's sake!" Without waiting for an answer from RJ, he pulled out that tiny broken bottle, stabbing at RJ's hand, arm, whatever. He just needed to let go so he could get the gun, and then get the ammo, and they'd all be happy as Larry.
-
AnimeNerd
- Posts: 596
- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Pippi wasn't dead. She'd fallen, but she wasn't dead. That was a good thing.
But the De Lisle was gone. Thrown overboard, a new furniture piece for the fishes. That was a bad thing.
The one thing RJ had to defend himself was gone. It didn't matter if having it was the reason Leo was dead-it was the only weapon he had, unless you counted the one-inch scissors in the first aid kit, and he sure as fuck didn't.
And it didn't even matter that Pippi was the one to throw it. There was only one person to blame, and it was Frollo's annoying grand nephew.
Something bit into his forearm, but rage mixed with returning adrenaline and it felt more like scratching from an angry cat than anything else.
Fun Fact: the maximum bite force for a human male with normal teeth is about 777 Newtons, or 174 pounds!
RJ couldn't exactly manage that level of force, but he certainly tried as his teeth went to clamp down on Anthony's arm, attempting to dig in as much as possible.
But the De Lisle was gone. Thrown overboard, a new furniture piece for the fishes. That was a bad thing.
The one thing RJ had to defend himself was gone. It didn't matter if having it was the reason Leo was dead-it was the only weapon he had, unless you counted the one-inch scissors in the first aid kit, and he sure as fuck didn't.
And it didn't even matter that Pippi was the one to throw it. There was only one person to blame, and it was Frollo's annoying grand nephew.
Something bit into his forearm, but rage mixed with returning adrenaline and it felt more like scratching from an angry cat than anything else.
Fun Fact: the maximum bite force for a human male with normal teeth is about 777 Newtons, or 174 pounds!
RJ couldn't exactly manage that level of force, but he certainly tried as his teeth went to clamp down on Anthony's arm, attempting to dig in as much as possible.
Something glittered.
Her stomach started to turn on itself.
She expected it, really.
But she expected to be the one targeted by the backscattered.
Not the other boy.
Her words didn't reach the boy, as if his ears were deaf.
She wanted to screamed, but she needed to take another path, clearly.
She lunged, stepping off the floor and into the fray, she needed to act as a decoy.
"Stop it!"
More useless words.
It wouldn't change anything.
Her knees dug into the boy. "Damn it, damn it!"
Her stomach started to turn on itself.
She expected it, really.
But she expected to be the one targeted by the backscattered.
Not the other boy.
Her words didn't reach the boy, as if his ears were deaf.
She wanted to screamed, but she needed to take another path, clearly.
She lunged, stepping off the floor and into the fray, she needed to act as a decoy.
"Stop it!"
More useless words.
It wouldn't change anything.
Her knees dug into the boy. "Damn it, damn it!"
-
Applesintime
- Posts: 836
- Joined: Sat Jul 04, 2020 11:57 am
- Team Affiliation: Ben's Crabs
Anthony let out a shout of agony as RJ bit - bit! He bit his fucking arm like a rabid fucking dog! Thoughts flashed through his mind, of bacteria, of infection, of pain. Then, he remembered that he had a medical kit and then he felt a little better. Of course, he was still being bit on the fucking arm. And Pippi was now on him, boney knees digging into his back. It was humiliating. It was fucking infuriating. And the gun was out of reach. He didn't even care about RJ, about Pippi, about anything. All he wanted was the fucking gun. There were more players than RJ, ones that were more dangerous. Fisk. Seo-yun. Eric. Everyone who was going for that ten kill release, everyone who would murder countless innocents to get their way.
He was a fucking idiot. Should have just grabbed the gun, and then maybe shot him, maybe not. Either way, he would have a gun, and then he'd be able to do something, anything, instead of wandering around waiting for someone to kill him. Because frankly, if you were going up against someone with a gun and you only had a wooden board, you were liable to be fucking headtopped. Then you'd just be another murder victim, lost in the show.
There wasn't any point struggling. He liked to think he was stronger than average but really, was he? Then again, who could kick two people off them, two of them who were holding him down? No, the best option was to feign surrender. Then he could get that gun. Then he could walk off in a better spot than he was before.
The glass bottle clattered to the ground.
"Let me go! Jesus fuck, just get off me and I'll get the fuck out of here!" Anthony didn't have to fake the desperation and pain in his voice, at least. Although he was going to have a hell of a fucking time bandaging and disinfecting this bite wound. But the gun would be worth it. It would all be worth it.
He was a fucking idiot. Should have just grabbed the gun, and then maybe shot him, maybe not. Either way, he would have a gun, and then he'd be able to do something, anything, instead of wandering around waiting for someone to kill him. Because frankly, if you were going up against someone with a gun and you only had a wooden board, you were liable to be fucking headtopped. Then you'd just be another murder victim, lost in the show.
There wasn't any point struggling. He liked to think he was stronger than average but really, was he? Then again, who could kick two people off them, two of them who were holding him down? No, the best option was to feign surrender. Then he could get that gun. Then he could walk off in a better spot than he was before.
The glass bottle clattered to the ground.
"Let me go! Jesus fuck, just get off me and I'll get the fuck out of here!" Anthony didn't have to fake the desperation and pain in his voice, at least. Although he was going to have a hell of a fucking time bandaging and disinfecting this bite wound. But the gun would be worth it. It would all be worth it.
-
AnimeNerd
- Posts: 596
- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Blood. Lots of blood entered RJ's body. In ways that it wasn't supposed to. Blood going down his throat from the bloody nose. Blood from Anthony getting on his tongue and either being absorbed or reflexively swallowed. Could you get a blood disease by drinking someone's blood? Did Anthony have a blood disease that RJ would have to worry about? He probably didn't, but you can't exactly blame someone for worrying about that sort of thing, even if 'in the middle of a fight' wasn't the best time to think about it.
Pippi was actually fighting-thank goodness, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up alone-and Anthony stopped screaming and dropped a thing-apparently it was broken glass that had caused the pain in his arms, that would be a fun wound to treat.
And Anthony wanted to leave. To go and lick his wounds, like any other predator. And honestly, despite his previous thoughts, RJ wanted to let him go. Release him, kick him off the boat, and pray that the two of them wouldn't see each other ever again. Anthony may've been a friend that tried to kill him, but RJ still felt hesitant to kill someone he once called a friend, at least while purposely knowing exactly what he was doing and who it was happening to.
But still. But still.
Anthony had made him trust him. Lured him into a false sense of security, then struck when he was most vulnerable. Not many slasher movies tried to do that sort of thing, but he could think of at least two that did something similar.
And you know what? Being genre savvy never really hurt, even if it didn't always help.
He let his jaw unclench, and he got on his knees, his hands putting pressure on Anthony's calves to keep him down. He didn't even try to hide the hatred in his voice as he spoke again.
"I'm not...gonna kill you, but..."
After the last word, RJ moved quickly, nearly sending himself on the floor again as he sent his foot forward, directly to Anthony's crotch.
"I don't trust you!"
Pippi was actually fighting-thank goodness, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up alone-and Anthony stopped screaming and dropped a thing-apparently it was broken glass that had caused the pain in his arms, that would be a fun wound to treat.
And Anthony wanted to leave. To go and lick his wounds, like any other predator. And honestly, despite his previous thoughts, RJ wanted to let him go. Release him, kick him off the boat, and pray that the two of them wouldn't see each other ever again. Anthony may've been a friend that tried to kill him, but RJ still felt hesitant to kill someone he once called a friend, at least while purposely knowing exactly what he was doing and who it was happening to.
But still. But still.
Anthony had made him trust him. Lured him into a false sense of security, then struck when he was most vulnerable. Not many slasher movies tried to do that sort of thing, but he could think of at least two that did something similar.
And you know what? Being genre savvy never really hurt, even if it didn't always help.
He let his jaw unclench, and he got on his knees, his hands putting pressure on Anthony's calves to keep him down. He didn't even try to hide the hatred in his voice as he spoke again.
"I'm not...gonna kill you, but..."
After the last word, RJ moved quickly, nearly sending himself on the floor again as he sent his foot forward, directly to Anthony's crotch.
"I don't trust you!"
"God dammit, not you too."
She shield Anthony's crotch.
She felt the kick. It was going to bruise.
She felt her skin peel off.
"Just stop it, stop it you two."
She sniffed, she wasn't crying yet but her eyes were filling up with tears, making it hard to watch.
It was as if something in her ignited the electric fuse.
And so she screamed again. "Just fuck off RJ." She almost spat. "Fuck. Off."
She shield Anthony's crotch.
She felt the kick. It was going to bruise.
She felt her skin peel off.
"Just stop it, stop it you two."
She sniffed, she wasn't crying yet but her eyes were filling up with tears, making it hard to watch.
It was as if something in her ignited the electric fuse.
And so she screamed again. "Just fuck off RJ." She almost spat. "Fuck. Off."
-
Applesintime
- Posts: 836
- Joined: Sat Jul 04, 2020 11:57 am
- Team Affiliation: Ben's Crabs
Anthony had seen RJ winding up for that kick. Not again. He wanted to goddamn have kids, a family, but if Mr. Fuckwit kept kicking him in the nuts, that wasn't going to be a fucking thing in his future. He had braced himself, closed his eyes and curled up as much as he could with Pippi on top of him and waited for the instant of agony, and the minutes of pain. And it didn't come. He was waiting, anticipating, ready for it, but it never came. Cracking open his eyes, he discovered that Pippi had blocked the kick. Thank fuck. Now, he still wasn't a fan of hers, what with the pointing a gun at him and the screaming and all that, but he could respect having convictions. In a way, they were kind of the same, innit?
"Kiss... Kiss my fucking arse, RJ." Anthony let out a chuckle. It wasn't exactly making the situation any better, but he'd already been hotted up. RJ had won, all that bullshit. Pippi would probably stop RJ doing anything serious, and for fuck's sake, he had been kicked in the balls by the guy. He had the right to mouth off at him.
But, in a way, maybe he was right. Anthony wished that he had realised this now, instead of now, being kneeled on and held down like he was some roadman the cops had caught with a gun or a knife or something. He had been too hype, maybe. Too blinded by his own rageto realise that RJ wasn't the goddamn enemy - sure, maybe he had killed Leo, but what did Ritzy say?
"Just... fuck off. Just fuck off and go. I'm done with you. Stop kicking me in the goddamn balls, stop biting me like some kind of rabid animal and go fuck off back to your own ends, you rahtid cunt!" He yelled in a flash of rage, and then rested the side of his head against the cold, metal deck. He could see the gun. It was taunting him, out of reach, but not out of sight. Fuck. Why did he have to get casted? Why did he have to get picked for the murder show? Nobody had helped him when they dragged him out of the corner shop.
Assholes.
"Kiss... Kiss my fucking arse, RJ." Anthony let out a chuckle. It wasn't exactly making the situation any better, but he'd already been hotted up. RJ had won, all that bullshit. Pippi would probably stop RJ doing anything serious, and for fuck's sake, he had been kicked in the balls by the guy. He had the right to mouth off at him.
But, in a way, maybe he was right. Anthony wished that he had realised this now, instead of now, being kneeled on and held down like he was some roadman the cops had caught with a gun or a knife or something. He had been too hype, maybe. Too blinded by his own rageto realise that RJ wasn't the goddamn enemy - sure, maybe he had killed Leo, but what did Ritzy say?
He couldn't forgive him. He wouldn't forgive him. He would never forgive him, and he wouldn't piss on the guy if he was on fire. But he couldn't call him a murderer - not yet, anyways. When he raised that rifle and shot someone else in cold blood, sure. Anthony would hunt him just as much as he would the others. He wouldn't enjoy it, but that was what he had to do. It was the morally right thing to do, both in the Biblical and just in general ethical terms. But right now? He was about as much of a threat as like, Hailey. Or whatever the fuck the religious girl was called. No, he had to re-calibrate his aim. Shoot for Seo-yun, Eric, Fisk and his gangdem. Anyone else would be dealt with the way he saw fit, but there were a few that he was confident wouldn't play again. Or would never play again. Either way, it didn't matter.Ritzy Daggers wrote: "You see, Leonard Kenter stumbled right into the aftermath and spooked RJ Blackburn, who got just a little trigger happy and ended up netting a kill of his own.
"Just... fuck off. Just fuck off and go. I'm done with you. Stop kicking me in the goddamn balls, stop biting me like some kind of rabid animal and go fuck off back to your own ends, you rahtid cunt!" He yelled in a flash of rage, and then rested the side of his head against the cold, metal deck. He could see the gun. It was taunting him, out of reach, but not out of sight. Fuck. Why did he have to get casted? Why did he have to get picked for the murder show? Nobody had helped him when they dragged him out of the corner shop.
Assholes.
-
AnimeNerd
- Posts: 596
- Joined: Sun May 24, 2020 1:27 am
- Location: A place that can sustain life
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Was...
Was she being serious?
Anthony had just tried to kill her-tried to tackle her and grab the gun to shoot them both-and RJ was the bad guy? For trying to make sure the asshole didn't try to get up and kill them again?
'Are you fucking kidding me?!'
"You-you know what? Fine. Fine!"
RJ shifted onto his feet-movement so quick he nearly fell on his ass, but managed not to-and started walking to the nearest jetty.
"I try-I keep you from getting football tackled and-and fucking shot, but sure! Trust the guy actively trying to kill people! Have a fucking conversation with him like it'll go well! See if I give a shit!"
He was screaming, but he didn't care. Let someone come and see what's going on. Maybe it'll get someone to talk some sense into the dense duo.
"Have fun with a guy ready to bash your head in on a whim! That'll go great, surely! Meanwhile, I'm gonna fucking nap knowing I might die because I trusted a psycho! And-"
A glint of metal. Only barely visible, but still there. Stuck to the boat.
RJ snatched it before the other two could move.
"And I still got my gun, assholes!"
With that, he ran.
[[RJ Blackburn continued elsewhere]]
Was she being serious?
Anthony had just tried to kill her-tried to tackle her and grab the gun to shoot them both-and RJ was the bad guy? For trying to make sure the asshole didn't try to get up and kill them again?
'Are you fucking kidding me?!'
"You-you know what? Fine. Fine!"
RJ shifted onto his feet-movement so quick he nearly fell on his ass, but managed not to-and started walking to the nearest jetty.
"I try-I keep you from getting football tackled and-and fucking shot, but sure! Trust the guy actively trying to kill people! Have a fucking conversation with him like it'll go well! See if I give a shit!"
He was screaming, but he didn't care. Let someone come and see what's going on. Maybe it'll get someone to talk some sense into the dense duo.
"Have fun with a guy ready to bash your head in on a whim! That'll go great, surely! Meanwhile, I'm gonna fucking nap knowing I might die because I trusted a psycho! And-"
A glint of metal. Only barely visible, but still there. Stuck to the boat.
RJ snatched it before the other two could move.
"And I still got my gun, assholes!"
With that, he ran.
[[RJ Blackburn continued elsewhere]]
Pippi slumped. RJ was leaving. Anthony was still beneath her.
She moved her knees off his chest.
She was still sitting on him, but there wouldn't be any bruises on him from that.
Or at least, she hoped she wasn't that heavy.
"Are you going to listen now?"
She put her hands on his forehead, wiping away some sweat and blood.
"Please. I don't want to hurt you more. Let's talk, okay?"
She wanted to vomit.
She moved her knees off his chest.
She was still sitting on him, but there wouldn't be any bruises on him from that.
Or at least, she hoped she wasn't that heavy.
"Are you going to listen now?"
She put her hands on his forehead, wiping away some sweat and blood.
"Please. I don't want to hurt you more. Let's talk, okay?"
She wanted to vomit.
-
Applesintime
- Posts: 836
- Joined: Sat Jul 04, 2020 11:57 am
- Team Affiliation: Ben's Crabs
RJ left, which was good. And he took the gun with him, which was terrible. Fantastic. Fucking great, another killer running around with a gun- no, not a killer. Or was he a killer? Would he take that gun and murder another one of his friends with it? Was it right to classify him as a player when he had- you know what, this was making his fucking head hurt. He could sort it when his wounds were patched up and he knew that he wouldn't die of an infection. Pippi wiped away some blood off his forehead, and he gently batted her hands away, sitting up. It was appreciated but he could do it himself. He wanted to be an EMT, it'd be a fucking tragedy if he couldn't fix his own shit up.
"What a fucking arsehole. I should have just taken his fucking iron and headtopped him. Saved us all the fucking trouble." He sighed in frustration, shrugging his bag off his shoulders and pulling out the medkit. Thanks to some prior work in the yacht yesterday, everything was sorted in its place, and it wasn't hard to find the antiseptic wipes. Couldn't have given him something better, could they have? Well, they did, but he drank it in a huff last night. Still, antiseptic was antiseptic, and so he pulled open the box, took one out, and applied it to the bite wound. Slowly, steadily, hissing as he went, Anthony cleaned the wound. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. Once he was certain that he had done the best he could with his shitty equipment, he tossed the wipe overboard.
Oh yeah, in the death game, his worst fucking worry was making sure he didn't pollute. People would be pissed at him for that, but if they give more of a shit about the fact the teenager trapped in a death game was littering than the actual death game, they could go fuck themselves.
"Fuck... Fucking cunt of a cunt. Nearly all my friends are dead, he killed one of them, and..." He scowled, wrapping a sterile bandage around his wound. The fucking human mouth had enough bacteria in it already, he didn't wanna worry about dying of an infection because Mr fucking Cuntface was a rabid fucking dog. Once that was finished, he put everything back into the box, put the box back in his bag, and shrugged it back on. Was he wrong? Was he in the wrong? No. No, he couldn't be in the wrong, because he wasn't a murderer.
"Am I wrong, Pippi? I know that probably wasn't the greatest fucking part of the Anthony Golden compilation video someone will make in a few months so they can profit off my death, but everything else. Am I wrong to want Seo-yun, Fisk and his player group - Fisk has a player group by the way - all the fucking players and murderers, to be unable to make it out of here? To not be able to fucking profit off their murder and fucking... selfish desires? Fucking paigons. Thanks, uh, for stopping him from kicking me in the balls again. Woulda fucking sucked." He chuckled without any happiness or humour in the act.
Without waiting for a reply, he got back on his own two feet and stumbled back into the cabin. Getting on his hands and knees, he groped under the control panel, under the chairs, for whatever Pippi had thrown at him. Eventually, he found it; a slim baton, like one of the ones you'd see the riot police with when a football match had gotten too rowdy and all the fans were fighting. He always hated that. Sure, Arsenal fans were arseholes, hence Arse-nal, but you didn't need to punch them to prove it.
"What a fucking arsehole. I should have just taken his fucking iron and headtopped him. Saved us all the fucking trouble." He sighed in frustration, shrugging his bag off his shoulders and pulling out the medkit. Thanks to some prior work in the yacht yesterday, everything was sorted in its place, and it wasn't hard to find the antiseptic wipes. Couldn't have given him something better, could they have? Well, they did, but he drank it in a huff last night. Still, antiseptic was antiseptic, and so he pulled open the box, took one out, and applied it to the bite wound. Slowly, steadily, hissing as he went, Anthony cleaned the wound. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. Once he was certain that he had done the best he could with his shitty equipment, he tossed the wipe overboard.
Oh yeah, in the death game, his worst fucking worry was making sure he didn't pollute. People would be pissed at him for that, but if they give more of a shit about the fact the teenager trapped in a death game was littering than the actual death game, they could go fuck themselves.
"Fuck... Fucking cunt of a cunt. Nearly all my friends are dead, he killed one of them, and..." He scowled, wrapping a sterile bandage around his wound. The fucking human mouth had enough bacteria in it already, he didn't wanna worry about dying of an infection because Mr fucking Cuntface was a rabid fucking dog. Once that was finished, he put everything back into the box, put the box back in his bag, and shrugged it back on. Was he wrong? Was he in the wrong? No. No, he couldn't be in the wrong, because he wasn't a murderer.
"Am I wrong, Pippi? I know that probably wasn't the greatest fucking part of the Anthony Golden compilation video someone will make in a few months so they can profit off my death, but everything else. Am I wrong to want Seo-yun, Fisk and his player group - Fisk has a player group by the way - all the fucking players and murderers, to be unable to make it out of here? To not be able to fucking profit off their murder and fucking... selfish desires? Fucking paigons. Thanks, uh, for stopping him from kicking me in the balls again. Woulda fucking sucked." He chuckled without any happiness or humour in the act.
Without waiting for a reply, he got back on his own two feet and stumbled back into the cabin. Getting on his hands and knees, he groped under the control panel, under the chairs, for whatever Pippi had thrown at him. Eventually, he found it; a slim baton, like one of the ones you'd see the riot police with when a football match had gotten too rowdy and all the fans were fighting. He always hated that. Sure, Arsenal fans were arseholes, hence Arse-nal, but you didn't need to punch them to prove it.
"You're not... right."
She raised one hand.
"But you're not wrong."
She stepped away after being swatted.
She was now looking at the ocean.
It looked almost peaceful. Almost kind.
She knew it was a false image. The ocean was merciless.
It didn't care about anyone, and it didn't particularly care about Pippi.
And yet, she felt strangely at home on this ship while feeling her blood pumping through her body.
"You can't just be the jury and the judge and the executioner, Anthony."
She shook her head.
"You're not wrong about wanting them dead, but if you kill them, you just give them what they want. I mean, we're all bound to do that. Someone probably wanted me to tell you that so that your arc can be set up into what it'll become, but I'm doing this move as calculated as possible."
She moved toward her backpack.
"Right now, I'm not giving them enough insight on my character, on my personality. They don't know enough about me to make a judgement, and I'm using it for myself."
She paused, moving the numbers up and down on the abacus.
"Let's say we were kidnapped by terrorists and stranded on an island, and you were doing what you're doing right now: I would have let you.
I would have probably cheered for you, actually.
But you're doing it wrong."
Pippi crossed her arms, analyzing the boy.
The meta discussion might not hit him right, but it could trigger something.
"Do you get what I'm saying?"
She raised one hand.
"But you're not wrong."
She stepped away after being swatted.
She was now looking at the ocean.
It looked almost peaceful. Almost kind.
She knew it was a false image. The ocean was merciless.
It didn't care about anyone, and it didn't particularly care about Pippi.
And yet, she felt strangely at home on this ship while feeling her blood pumping through her body.
"You can't just be the jury and the judge and the executioner, Anthony."
She shook her head.
"You're not wrong about wanting them dead, but if you kill them, you just give them what they want. I mean, we're all bound to do that. Someone probably wanted me to tell you that so that your arc can be set up into what it'll become, but I'm doing this move as calculated as possible."
She moved toward her backpack.
"Right now, I'm not giving them enough insight on my character, on my personality. They don't know enough about me to make a judgement, and I'm using it for myself."
She paused, moving the numbers up and down on the abacus.
"Let's say we were kidnapped by terrorists and stranded on an island, and you were doing what you're doing right now: I would have let you.
I would have probably cheered for you, actually.
But you're doing it wrong."
Pippi crossed her arms, analyzing the boy.
The meta discussion might not hit him right, but it could trigger something.
"Do you get what I'm saying?"
-
Applesintime
- Posts: 836
- Joined: Sat Jul 04, 2020 11:57 am
- Team Affiliation: Ben's Crabs
He fiddled with the baton, and eventually discovered that if you kinda pushed down on the tip, it went down and he could store it much easier. He put the baton into his pocket, where it remained there as a comforting weight, reminding him that he had another weapon to add to his arsenal. Another backup if his backup failed. And the glass bottle had kinda shattered so now he was down a weapon.
Stepping out of the cabin and back into the open air, he paused to take in Pippi’s words. The judge, jury and executioner. Most of it whizzed past him, lost in his comedown from the adrenaline and the onslaught of tiredness he felt, but those words, plus a few more, stuck with him.
“They’re probably going to end up dead anyway, though. If Seo-yun, if Fisk and his wannabe gang of misfits wins, they’ll just whore themselves out to anyone willing to throw a few bucks at them, anyone willing to give them a little more time in the limelight. You know how Seo-yun is, if she thought she could get a little more popular by killing her parents she’d probably do it in a fucking heartbeat. I don’t want - I won’t let that happen. Abel, Virginia, Nura, Kamille - I’m not just going to fucking let her coast to fame on the bodies of ten dead people. If I have to die to stop that, so fucking be it.”
He let the words hang there, too heavy to come down just quite yet, between them like a misspoken word that would never be forgotten.
“Maybe I’m playing up to what they goddamn want me to do, whatever arc they’ve planned for me in a boardroom, but I don’t see it. They’re gonna whine and piss themselves about how I’m killing their favourite characters - that’s all we fucking are to them, Pippi, Characters! We aren’t people, we aren’t students or people who had families, we’re Characters! If they saw someone getting shot in real life, they’d call the cops. But if it’s their favourite Character shooting their least favourite Character, then it’s all good, it’s all fine! They don’t give two fucks what happens to us, because they don’t give a shit about anything other than their selfish fucking wants!”
He paused for a second, catching his breath. There was something that intrigued him - sure, the thing about being kidnapped by terrorists and stranded on an island, forced to do this whole gambit, sounded absurd, but there was one thing in particular that she said alongside it. Maybe he should have been offended by it, by her insinuation that he wasn’t doing the right thing.
“Alright then, if I’m doing it wrong, what’s the right way, then? Shoot myself like that Lukas guy from the last season?” This time, the chuckle had a little humour to it.
Stepping out of the cabin and back into the open air, he paused to take in Pippi’s words. The judge, jury and executioner. Most of it whizzed past him, lost in his comedown from the adrenaline and the onslaught of tiredness he felt, but those words, plus a few more, stuck with him.
“They’re probably going to end up dead anyway, though. If Seo-yun, if Fisk and his wannabe gang of misfits wins, they’ll just whore themselves out to anyone willing to throw a few bucks at them, anyone willing to give them a little more time in the limelight. You know how Seo-yun is, if she thought she could get a little more popular by killing her parents she’d probably do it in a fucking heartbeat. I don’t want - I won’t let that happen. Abel, Virginia, Nura, Kamille - I’m not just going to fucking let her coast to fame on the bodies of ten dead people. If I have to die to stop that, so fucking be it.”
He let the words hang there, too heavy to come down just quite yet, between them like a misspoken word that would never be forgotten.
“Maybe I’m playing up to what they goddamn want me to do, whatever arc they’ve planned for me in a boardroom, but I don’t see it. They’re gonna whine and piss themselves about how I’m killing their favourite characters - that’s all we fucking are to them, Pippi, Characters! We aren’t people, we aren’t students or people who had families, we’re Characters! If they saw someone getting shot in real life, they’d call the cops. But if it’s their favourite Character shooting their least favourite Character, then it’s all good, it’s all fine! They don’t give two fucks what happens to us, because they don’t give a shit about anything other than their selfish fucking wants!”
He paused for a second, catching his breath. There was something that intrigued him - sure, the thing about being kidnapped by terrorists and stranded on an island, forced to do this whole gambit, sounded absurd, but there was one thing in particular that she said alongside it. Maybe he should have been offended by it, by her insinuation that he wasn’t doing the right thing.
“Alright then, if I’m doing it wrong, what’s the right way, then? Shoot myself like that Lukas guy from the last season?” This time, the chuckle had a little humour to it.
"See, you're already thinking way better than earlier."
Pippi crossed her arms.
"They win by publicity. They win whether they die or survive because of that publicity. If you make it into a hero-vs-villain, you're exactly giving them what they want. And you can't give them that, you can't let them win that way. They win when they let their Character take over, they win by their ego-death. They win when there's nothing left to them than SOTF."
She stepped forward, picking up her backpack.
"And we - or at least, I, - win by not doing that. I win whether I live or I die by being true to myself and by being who I am. Whether that I die, or that I live, I win by being myself, and that's something they can't take away from me."
She pointed the baton in his pocket.
"That's mine, by the way. You could have asked, you know?"
Pippi crossed her arms.
"They win by publicity. They win whether they die or survive because of that publicity. If you make it into a hero-vs-villain, you're exactly giving them what they want. And you can't give them that, you can't let them win that way. They win when they let their Character take over, they win by their ego-death. They win when there's nothing left to them than SOTF."
She stepped forward, picking up her backpack.
"And we - or at least, I, - win by not doing that. I win whether I live or I die by being true to myself and by being who I am. Whether that I die, or that I live, I win by being myself, and that's something they can't take away from me."
She pointed the baton in his pocket.
"That's mine, by the way. You could have asked, you know?"