When the announcement happened, there was a lot of crying.
A lot of screaming, a lot of sobbing. No one ever expected to hear their name called on Announcement Day, after all. That was the nature of the beast. It was a random drawing, and it was just as incredibly unlikely for you to be called as the next kid. The odds were always in your favor. And when your name was called, well, that's when the real you came out.
The real, bitch-ass, fucking pussy-footed you.
Not her, though. No fucking way was she going out of this school crying for her goddamn mommy. No, she let loose a steady stream of curses, but she went willingly enough (like she had a damn choice). But she went muttering to herself-
"Fucking Program. Whatever, watch, I'll be home in a week."
RYAN MONTOYA [G08]- ALIVE
Ryan was pretty okay up until she looked through her bag for her weapon. Given that that was the very first thing she did upon awakening, it wasn't much of a compliment to her self-control, but still, it was something.
"Motherfucker. These fucking pricks think they could give me a fuckin'...fuckin'..."
There was no real mistaking what it was. It was a cardboard box. She was on the Program and her weapon was a cardboard box. Unless she Solid Snake'd her way out of this shit she wasn't getting any-fucking-where.
Fuckers. They probably think I'm an easy out, tiny kid with her goddamn CARDBOARD BOX. I'll beat the shit out of every single one of 'em...
She was running out of steam, though. In a situation like this Ryan's famously unstoppable temper could only go on for so long, and eventually she settled down enough to take a look at her surroundings. She was in a bedroom of some sort. Well, fuckin' great. She could take a nap while her classmates ran around killing each other. It would be a great goddamn time for everyone! And everyone would be dead.
This sucked. This was majorly balls. She was going to have to kill people. Kill people! That was such bullshit. Not that there weren't a few people in this school she wouldn't mind punching in the face a few times but still. She had friends here! And she was supposed to kill them! The fuck was with-
Friends. She had those and they were around here somewhere. Luke, that was the first name that came to mind. Luke! She didn't want to kill that fucker! He didn't deserve this shit! Who else? Henry! She didn't want to kick his ass, either. Well, maybe she did, occasionally, but that was out of love, dammit. Who else was here? Logan. Chanel. Ryan was gonna have to hope someone else killed them so she wouldn't have to.
That was a horrible thought and she knew it but fuck if she had anything else to hope for.
She searched through bag (it was a decent color, though too bulky and generally hideous to have any chance of going with her outfit) and found nothing that surprised her. Food, map, compass, blah di fucking blah. She ate a single saltine for no real reason and crunched it with hugely misplaced anger before returning it to her bag.
Ryan stood, wishing that she'd thought to wear better running shoes, and hoisted the bag over her shoulder, opening the door to the bedroom. No reason to stay here forever. Time to get this shit moving.
...And she flung herself back behind the door of the bedroom and hid behind it, gritting her teeth. Stupid. Stupid! There was probably someone with their gun trained on her position right now because she'd decided to leave her safe spot. Of course her safe spot wasn't really safe either. Nowhere was.
Her paranoia was settling back in and she cursed rapidly under her breath, holding her position and hoping that no one had seen the door move.
Philistine
Debut of G08- Open
Moderator: Sh4dE
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
Philistine
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((Jethro Stuarts Begin))
Things had looked better for Jethro Stuarts.
Announcement day was no big deal, right? That's what he'd always thought, but that changed on that fateful day; it had only taken a second for his name to come out, but in that second Announcement day had gone to shit in the worst way possible. Hearing your school had been selected to kill each other was bad enough, hearing your grade was the grand winners was even worse, but when they call your name out? That's when anxiety became full blown terror.
He had woken up in a gym, not another soul to be seen. Even though he had had hours to slowly make peace with his situation on the bus, uttering a few silent words to his family sat miles away whilst clenching his fingers together, it was just as scary as it had been when they'd called out his fate; thinking about going in to the ring just wasn't the same as climbing through the ropes. Here, the game was on.
It was bad enough as it was, but he knew he couldn't just sit around in one place forever. Moving around was the best thing he could do right now, since there wasn't anything that sounded better. Checking his bags before he began moving, he was less than thrilled when he saw his weapon: guns were great if you wanted to play, but that was something Jethro hadn't dealt with yet: he may have boxed in his spare time, but damned if he ever wanted to hurt anyone, much less his classmates. Yet here they were giving him a semi-automatic ticket puncher on the house.
“Well, better be glad it ain't something like a wooden spoon, I guess.” he sighed, flicking the manual open with one hand, holding onto his firearm with the other. These things were never this complicated in video games, he grudgingly acknowledged, but he at least managed to figure out the basics as he loaded in a fresh round and clicked off the safety, looking at the live weapon with disdain.
The gym had led off to a bunch of long corridors, so Jethro could only assume he was in one of the big buildings on the map of the compound arena. Carbine in his hands, his ears burned as he walked down the hallways, tension growing in every muscle. It was easy to be calm when there was no risk of being offed at a moment's notice, even if he was still scared back before, but now he had to keep his wits about him; keeping cool was the least of his worries.
Creak.
A surprised yelp escaped his throat, betraying his calm exterior as a door opened barely out of his reach. His pointed gun shook as he looked at the open doorway, half expecting some crazy guy to jump out with a knife. “Shit, man!” he groaned, sweating under his nerves, dreading conflict so early on. “Not right now! Not yet!”
Things had looked better for Jethro Stuarts.
Announcement day was no big deal, right? That's what he'd always thought, but that changed on that fateful day; it had only taken a second for his name to come out, but in that second Announcement day had gone to shit in the worst way possible. Hearing your school had been selected to kill each other was bad enough, hearing your grade was the grand winners was even worse, but when they call your name out? That's when anxiety became full blown terror.
He had woken up in a gym, not another soul to be seen. Even though he had had hours to slowly make peace with his situation on the bus, uttering a few silent words to his family sat miles away whilst clenching his fingers together, it was just as scary as it had been when they'd called out his fate; thinking about going in to the ring just wasn't the same as climbing through the ropes. Here, the game was on.
It was bad enough as it was, but he knew he couldn't just sit around in one place forever. Moving around was the best thing he could do right now, since there wasn't anything that sounded better. Checking his bags before he began moving, he was less than thrilled when he saw his weapon: guns were great if you wanted to play, but that was something Jethro hadn't dealt with yet: he may have boxed in his spare time, but damned if he ever wanted to hurt anyone, much less his classmates. Yet here they were giving him a semi-automatic ticket puncher on the house.
“Well, better be glad it ain't something like a wooden spoon, I guess.” he sighed, flicking the manual open with one hand, holding onto his firearm with the other. These things were never this complicated in video games, he grudgingly acknowledged, but he at least managed to figure out the basics as he loaded in a fresh round and clicked off the safety, looking at the live weapon with disdain.
The gym had led off to a bunch of long corridors, so Jethro could only assume he was in one of the big buildings on the map of the compound arena. Carbine in his hands, his ears burned as he walked down the hallways, tension growing in every muscle. It was easy to be calm when there was no risk of being offed at a moment's notice, even if he was still scared back before, but now he had to keep his wits about him; keeping cool was the least of his worries.
Creak.
A surprised yelp escaped his throat, betraying his calm exterior as a door opened barely out of his reach. His pointed gun shook as he looked at the open doorway, half expecting some crazy guy to jump out with a knife. “Shit, man!” he groaned, sweating under his nerves, dreading conflict so early on. “Not right now! Not yet!”
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
Fuck. Fuck! Motherfucking shit FUCK!
It was way too early for this shit.
Ryan stood behind the door with gritted teeth, her fists clenched tight, not that that's gonna help me against the Lone fuckin' Gunman out there lining up his goddamn shot. She was twitching. Wasn't that just perfect? Ten minutes, nah not even, more like five damn minutes after waking up and she was most definitely about to die. Not even in a blaze of glory either, like she'd always figured she would, no, she was gonna be fucking shot by some sniveling little mama's boy who'd be lucky not to fuck up his gun with his own piss.
Ryan Montoya did not want to die that way.
She stood there. Waiting. Wait-ing. How long had she waited? Five minutes? Ten? She wasn't particularly patient at the best of times and this wasn't a good time to test her. She wanted to move, she desperately wanted to move, but as far as she knew the imaginary gunman outside her door was still there.
But how would she know if she didn't check?
Her arm twitched, first, at the prospect of movement. Then the rest of her followed, more smoothly, quietly, silently, cursing only in her head and praying that this wasn't an incredibly stupid move.
Ryan peeked, as little as she possibly could manage, behind the door, only the slightest bit of her head poking beyond the door.
It was way too early for this shit.
Ryan stood behind the door with gritted teeth, her fists clenched tight, not that that's gonna help me against the Lone fuckin' Gunman out there lining up his goddamn shot. She was twitching. Wasn't that just perfect? Ten minutes, nah not even, more like five damn minutes after waking up and she was most definitely about to die. Not even in a blaze of glory either, like she'd always figured she would, no, she was gonna be fucking shot by some sniveling little mama's boy who'd be lucky not to fuck up his gun with his own piss.
Ryan Montoya did not want to die that way.
She stood there. Waiting. Wait-ing. How long had she waited? Five minutes? Ten? She wasn't particularly patient at the best of times and this wasn't a good time to test her. She wanted to move, she desperately wanted to move, but as far as she knew the imaginary gunman outside her door was still there.
But how would she know if she didn't check?
Her arm twitched, first, at the prospect of movement. Then the rest of her followed, more smoothly, quietly, silently, cursing only in her head and praying that this wasn't an incredibly stupid move.
Ryan peeked, as little as she possibly could manage, behind the door, only the slightest bit of her head poking beyond the door.
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Nothing moved beyond the door, so Jethro just stood there, shaking in fear; his gun trembled in his hands as his finger moved closer and closer to the trigger. ”Shit, man!” he kept groaning to himself, terrified by not knowing what had moved the door.
Ryan may have been trying to remain out of sight as she poked her head out, but Jethro hadn't moved his eyes away since it had first opened. “Shit!” he yelled, aiming his carbine defensively, as he realised that there was someone there; he almost pulled the trigger there and then in a state of shock, which could very well have put blood on his hands. Luckily for Ryan, however, Jethro was made of cooler stuff.
Gritting his teeth as he looked away from the door, clenching his eyes, he gagged on his own terror like it was some sort of nightmare vomit. He did not want anything to start this early, barely minutes after he had woken up, but it looked like lady luck was not on his side.
With a deep breath, he returned his gaze to the door where the head had appeared. Though he may have looked steely and controlled to any observers, he was still very confused and very scared on the inside. What the hell was he supposed to do next? He couldn't just walk away, what if they had a gun too? Shit, what if they were aiming through the door right now
“You!” he shouted, his voice strong and direct, “Out here now! No guns!” He wouldn't call himself a leader type under the best of circumstances, and he certainly wasn't usually giving commands, but barking that order put his mind on track as the next words came out smoother. “Hands where I can see 'em!”
"Nice and easy now, whoever you are.” he muttered internally, teeth clenched between yells. “Do NOT make me use this!”
Ryan may have been trying to remain out of sight as she poked her head out, but Jethro hadn't moved his eyes away since it had first opened. “Shit!” he yelled, aiming his carbine defensively, as he realised that there was someone there; he almost pulled the trigger there and then in a state of shock, which could very well have put blood on his hands. Luckily for Ryan, however, Jethro was made of cooler stuff.
Gritting his teeth as he looked away from the door, clenching his eyes, he gagged on his own terror like it was some sort of nightmare vomit. He did not want anything to start this early, barely minutes after he had woken up, but it looked like lady luck was not on his side.
With a deep breath, he returned his gaze to the door where the head had appeared. Though he may have looked steely and controlled to any observers, he was still very confused and very scared on the inside. What the hell was he supposed to do next? He couldn't just walk away, what if they had a gun too? Shit, what if they were aiming through the door right now
“You!” he shouted, his voice strong and direct, “Out here now! No guns!” He wouldn't call himself a leader type under the best of circumstances, and he certainly wasn't usually giving commands, but barking that order put his mind on track as the next words came out smoother. “Hands where I can see 'em!”
"Nice and easy now, whoever you are.” he muttered internally, teeth clenched between yells. “Do NOT make me use this!”
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
What the actual fuck.
See, Ryan Montoya had gone all her life being told she was paranoid. Ever since some prick with a knife had made the mistake of sticking her and her mother up, she was a jumble of nerves at the best of times. The thing was, having been told so often that she was paranoid, she understood that. Unlike so many other paranoid people, she didn't always think she was being completely rational. Of course most of her was sure that whatever horrible shit she was sure was going down was going down, but part of her brain was reminding her- no, it's probably not. You're a paranoid mess, calm the fuck down. Not that she ever listened to that piece of her brain, but it existed.
Then shit like this happened and she was like, THIS IS WHY I DON'T FUCKING LISTEN TO YOU.
IT'S NOT PARANOIA WHEN I'M RIGHT, DAMMIT!
Because she was right. There was some motherfucker with a gun pointed at her damn head, not exactly the sniveling little mama's boy she'd pictured. She only saw him for a quick second- before she retreated right back behind that damn door- but he was...she couldn't judge height, really (everyone was tall to her) but he was definitely muscular. And he was black, which ruled out the possibility of him being anyone she knew. And he was holding a gun. That stuck out, really.
“You!”
Motherfucking bitch fuck. He was talking to her. He was talking to her and he had a goddamn gun.
“Out here now! No guns!”
Oh, yeah, this fuckhead can say that shit as long as he's HOLDING one. Motherfucker. If I had a fucking gun I bet I could shoot him without him even noticing. Hahaha...well I don't have a gun I have a goddamn cardboard box fucking hell.
“Hands where I can see 'em!”
Sooo cliche. Ryan kind of hated this guy already. But whatever, she had nothing to hide and she sure as hell had no other way to escape; if she had, she would've used it by now. So she, slowly slowly slowly so as not to provoke this kid's trigger finger, took two steps into the hallway, her bag over her shoulder and her joke of a weapon folded up inside.
She looked at him. Looked up at him, rather- not for the first time she mentally cursed her height. There was no way she could ever look...useful. Ever.
That might be good though. Maybe pull an innocent little girl act? Act helpless and shit?
...
Ryan Montoya was not good at being helpless.
"Yo." She really wished she had gum right now. She would come off so much less nervous if she had gum she could pop obnoxiously. As it was, she was putting up a pretty good front of nonchalance. "I'm Ryan. And I don't particularly want to be shot right now, if you don't mind."
Smooth. Real smooth.
Fuck, I'm going to die.
See, Ryan Montoya had gone all her life being told she was paranoid. Ever since some prick with a knife had made the mistake of sticking her and her mother up, she was a jumble of nerves at the best of times. The thing was, having been told so often that she was paranoid, she understood that. Unlike so many other paranoid people, she didn't always think she was being completely rational. Of course most of her was sure that whatever horrible shit she was sure was going down was going down, but part of her brain was reminding her- no, it's probably not. You're a paranoid mess, calm the fuck down. Not that she ever listened to that piece of her brain, but it existed.
Then shit like this happened and she was like, THIS IS WHY I DON'T FUCKING LISTEN TO YOU.
IT'S NOT PARANOIA WHEN I'M RIGHT, DAMMIT!
Because she was right. There was some motherfucker with a gun pointed at her damn head, not exactly the sniveling little mama's boy she'd pictured. She only saw him for a quick second- before she retreated right back behind that damn door- but he was...she couldn't judge height, really (everyone was tall to her) but he was definitely muscular. And he was black, which ruled out the possibility of him being anyone she knew. And he was holding a gun. That stuck out, really.
“You!”
Motherfucking bitch fuck. He was talking to her. He was talking to her and he had a goddamn gun.
“Out here now! No guns!”
Oh, yeah, this fuckhead can say that shit as long as he's HOLDING one. Motherfucker. If I had a fucking gun I bet I could shoot him without him even noticing. Hahaha...well I don't have a gun I have a goddamn cardboard box fucking hell.
“Hands where I can see 'em!”
Sooo cliche. Ryan kind of hated this guy already. But whatever, she had nothing to hide and she sure as hell had no other way to escape; if she had, she would've used it by now. So she, slowly slowly slowly so as not to provoke this kid's trigger finger, took two steps into the hallway, her bag over her shoulder and her joke of a weapon folded up inside.
She looked at him. Looked up at him, rather- not for the first time she mentally cursed her height. There was no way she could ever look...useful. Ever.
That might be good though. Maybe pull an innocent little girl act? Act helpless and shit?
...
Ryan Montoya was not good at being helpless.
"Yo." She really wished she had gum right now. She would come off so much less nervous if she had gum she could pop obnoxiously. As it was, she was putting up a pretty good front of nonchalance. "I'm Ryan. And I don't particularly want to be shot right now, if you don't mind."
Smooth. Real smooth.
Fuck, I'm going to die.
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Jethro kept a steely eye on the doorway, still trembling on the spot. Whether whoever was back there was coming out any time soon or not was still left to be se-
Even though he was expecting it, he almost let off a round right there in surprise at the sight of Ryan emerging, his itchy trigger finger tapping the gun nervously. He dumbly blinked a few times, the look a tourist gets when they see something strange and exotic plastered across his face.
“Damn.” He spoke suddenly, snapping himself out of his stupor and tightening his hold on his carbine. It was just a girl, not one he knew by name; a really small girl at that, but then for someone his height most girls looked short. But regardless, just a girl waving her empty hands, doing exactly as he’d said. For now, he believed himself to be safe.
“Sorry.” he apologised, relaxing his grip. It wasn’t that there was much to apologise for, but Jethro apologised anyway. “Didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He couldn’t help but crack a smirk at her comment, appreciating her cool attitude in dire times. If she was as calm as she was trying to seem, then good for her.
“Relax,” he continued, taking his aim off Ryan. “I ain't gonna shoot ya, don't worry.” he smiled, waving an open palm at her and trying to use that charming personality he’d so often been attributed to. It wasn’t perfect, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing he had right now to keep her happy and avoid freaking her out.
Well, that and the gun at his waist.
“Sorry,” he repeated once again, still without any of a reason to apologise. “Can’t be too careful, right? Guess this place’s got me jumpy.”
Yeah, that was putting it mildly.
Even though he was expecting it, he almost let off a round right there in surprise at the sight of Ryan emerging, his itchy trigger finger tapping the gun nervously. He dumbly blinked a few times, the look a tourist gets when they see something strange and exotic plastered across his face.
“Damn.” He spoke suddenly, snapping himself out of his stupor and tightening his hold on his carbine. It was just a girl, not one he knew by name; a really small girl at that, but then for someone his height most girls looked short. But regardless, just a girl waving her empty hands, doing exactly as he’d said. For now, he believed himself to be safe.
“Sorry.” he apologised, relaxing his grip. It wasn’t that there was much to apologise for, but Jethro apologised anyway. “Didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He couldn’t help but crack a smirk at her comment, appreciating her cool attitude in dire times. If she was as calm as she was trying to seem, then good for her.
“Relax,” he continued, taking his aim off Ryan. “I ain't gonna shoot ya, don't worry.” he smiled, waving an open palm at her and trying to use that charming personality he’d so often been attributed to. It wasn’t perfect, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing he had right now to keep her happy and avoid freaking her out.
Well, that and the gun at his waist.
“Sorry,” he repeated once again, still without any of a reason to apologise. “Can’t be too careful, right? Guess this place’s got me jumpy.”
Yeah, that was putting it mildly.
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
Jumpy. Haha, jumpy. Yeah jumpy. Fuck yeah. Yeah she was fucking jumpy this was the fucking PROGRAM jesus CHRIST this guy was WAY TOO RELAXED. Well, Ryan was too, at least her voice was. She was a twitch twitch twitchy mess right about now but she sounded damn chill. Sounded like someone who didn't care about all this. And she was confident, yes, but she had no confidence in this boy not shooting her in the face.
But she supposed having a boy with a gun on her side was a good thing. Right? Yeah. If she could stop fucking bugging out, especially considering that gun wasn't pointed at her anymore, she could actually make an ally out of him. Or something. God she didn't even know anymore. She was busy being surprised she wasn't dead.
The boy had apologized, and he had smirked. Her feeble attempt at humor had actually made him react and he was basically apologizing for nothing. Well, awesome, he was an idiot. Or something.
Ryan had been kind of exhausted with disliking this boy and she'd been at it for all of two minutes. She could judge him later. For now she just listened.
“Relax. I ain't gonna shoot ya, don't worry.”
Awesome, I love not getting shot, good fuckin' job cheering me up, bro.
“Sorry."
Stop apologizing, dammit! God, it's pathetic shit.
“Can’t be too careful, right? Guess this place’s got me jumpy.”
And that brought her back to the jumpy. Yeah. Jumpy. That was the word for this. But now was the time to stop being jumpy, to chill the fuck out for long enough to make this boy think she wasn't a ball of barely contained spaz-attack paranoid rage. Or something goddamn Ryan hated words she wanted to smack a bitch right now and she'd smack this bitch except he had a gun and was like a foot taller than her
"Yeah, guess that's fair, right? It's all good. That was fun, I liked the part where you didn't shoot me." She raised an eyebrow at her own ridiculous statement and made a conscious decision to stop being a fucking idiot. "Anyway. I can't do shit to you, they gave me a fucking cardboard box because apparently I'm Solid Snake. But yeah, I'm kinda..."
Can't believe I'm spouting this bullshit.
"...defenseless."
This boy didn't know her. That was the only reason she could get away with that lie. Ryan Montoya was little, that was totally true, and if she tried she could easily pass herself off as a cute, harmless little pixie-thing. Of course any of her friends knew she was a weapon of mass fucking destruction. She was all muscle, all training, all whirling rage and she could probably take this boy in a fair fight, fuck how big he was.
But he had a gun. And hell, he WAS a lot bigger than her. But that didn't matter, and she'd be better off if this boy DIDN'T know any of that. Maybe he'd feel the need to protect her or some shit. Boys were like that.
"I'm Ryan. I don't think I know your name?"
But she supposed having a boy with a gun on her side was a good thing. Right? Yeah. If she could stop fucking bugging out, especially considering that gun wasn't pointed at her anymore, she could actually make an ally out of him. Or something. God she didn't even know anymore. She was busy being surprised she wasn't dead.
The boy had apologized, and he had smirked. Her feeble attempt at humor had actually made him react and he was basically apologizing for nothing. Well, awesome, he was an idiot. Or something.
Ryan had been kind of exhausted with disliking this boy and she'd been at it for all of two minutes. She could judge him later. For now she just listened.
“Relax. I ain't gonna shoot ya, don't worry.”
Awesome, I love not getting shot, good fuckin' job cheering me up, bro.
“Sorry."
Stop apologizing, dammit! God, it's pathetic shit.
“Can’t be too careful, right? Guess this place’s got me jumpy.”
And that brought her back to the jumpy. Yeah. Jumpy. That was the word for this. But now was the time to stop being jumpy, to chill the fuck out for long enough to make this boy think she wasn't a ball of barely contained spaz-attack paranoid rage. Or something goddamn Ryan hated words she wanted to smack a bitch right now and she'd smack this bitch except he had a gun and was like a foot taller than her
"Yeah, guess that's fair, right? It's all good. That was fun, I liked the part where you didn't shoot me." She raised an eyebrow at her own ridiculous statement and made a conscious decision to stop being a fucking idiot. "Anyway. I can't do shit to you, they gave me a fucking cardboard box because apparently I'm Solid Snake. But yeah, I'm kinda..."
Can't believe I'm spouting this bullshit.
"...defenseless."
This boy didn't know her. That was the only reason she could get away with that lie. Ryan Montoya was little, that was totally true, and if she tried she could easily pass herself off as a cute, harmless little pixie-thing. Of course any of her friends knew she was a weapon of mass fucking destruction. She was all muscle, all training, all whirling rage and she could probably take this boy in a fair fight, fuck how big he was.
But he had a gun. And hell, he WAS a lot bigger than her. But that didn't matter, and she'd be better off if this boy DIDN'T know any of that. Maybe he'd feel the need to protect her or some shit. Boys were like that.
"I'm Ryan. I don't think I know your name?"
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“Jethro, Jethro Stuarts.” he replied, forcing a smile and looking down at the tiny Ryan Montoya, her lame joke about not getting shot a welcome relief: it meant she wasn't about to stab him up. Well, of course that wasn't what it meant, but Jethro was looking for every sign of friendliness he could find with this new girl for his own sake.
He could never shoot a girl, after all, no way; he could never shoot anyone. So without a doubt, he did NOT want this girl to be jumping all over him like some damn maniac when he wouldn't be able to do shit about it!
“Cardboard box, eh?” he asked, looking at her with concern hidden behind a weary smirk. Poor girl, not getting anything that could even give someone a papercut, much less defend herself. And here he was standing right in front of her with a powerful carbine; it made him feel awkwardly favoured.
He wasn't about to give it to her of course, that was just stupid, but he still felt sorry for her.
“Yeah, well.” he replied, giving his gun a quick referring lift. Of course she knew what he had: she had had plenty of time to look at it when it was pointed at her fucking face! Damn, he could've blown her head off any second!
“Girl, let me tell you,” he sighed, hanging his head in annoyance. “You gotta be more careful! I could've shot you up any second back there!” She shouldn't have just shoved a door open like that, anyone could've been on the other side! Next time, it might be some other gun toting nut bag without his friendly side!
“Shit...” he sighed again, looking at this new friend of his. Shit indeed.
He could never shoot a girl, after all, no way; he could never shoot anyone. So without a doubt, he did NOT want this girl to be jumping all over him like some damn maniac when he wouldn't be able to do shit about it!
“Cardboard box, eh?” he asked, looking at her with concern hidden behind a weary smirk. Poor girl, not getting anything that could even give someone a papercut, much less defend herself. And here he was standing right in front of her with a powerful carbine; it made him feel awkwardly favoured.
He wasn't about to give it to her of course, that was just stupid, but he still felt sorry for her.
“Yeah, well.” he replied, giving his gun a quick referring lift. Of course she knew what he had: she had had plenty of time to look at it when it was pointed at her fucking face! Damn, he could've blown her head off any second!
“Girl, let me tell you,” he sighed, hanging his head in annoyance. “You gotta be more careful! I could've shot you up any second back there!” She shouldn't have just shoved a door open like that, anyone could've been on the other side! Next time, it might be some other gun toting nut bag without his friendly side!
“Shit...” he sighed again, looking at this new friend of his. Shit indeed.
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
“Jethro, Jethro Stuarts.”
Huh. Weird name. At least he had one. Ryan was in no position to judge names, given that she was named after some uncle who'd died before she was born and was inevitably mistaken for a boy by every new teacher calling roll. Whatever, the boy was smiling and the smile seemed forced and everything but whatever. It was an attempt at diplomacy, at keeping this peaceful, and Ryan was cool with that. Bad joke, maybe, but she really did appreciate the part of this conversation where she wasn't being shot.
She'd like to keep that streak going.
“Cardboard box, eh? Yeah, well.” The hand with Jethro's gun moved and Ryan twitched, her fists clenching automatically- she only barely suppressed her instincts quickly enough to avoid moving into fighting stance. She didn't want to reveal her abilities, not if he didn't already know them. But the boy had only moved his gun hand to re-point out the fact that he had a gun, because Ryan had TOTALLY forgotten in the last thirty seconds, and that combined with his smirk- though some part of her knew he meant no offense with it- made her want to punch his head in.
She didn't say that, though. Not getting shot is the key, Ryan, remember that shit. Calm. Center. Ohm or what-the-fuck-ever.
“Girl, let me tell you, you gotta be more careful! I could've shot you up any second back there!”
Ryan's body didn't move this time, but her face twitched for a moment before she got herself back under control, put on a happy face. Internally, though, fuck if I hadn't realized that, Mister Stuarts, no, I didn't realize I made a dumbass fucking move and almost got my ass killed. No, you go ahead and keep pointing out my fucking failure. Yeah, that's it, keep-
It occurred to her that she was being really, really unfair to this boy. He was really just trying to be helpful. Ryan bit her lip.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I wasn't...thinking. I just wanted to go somewhere." She shrugged, keeping her voice level. "Whatever, what's done is done. Now, if you're not gonna shoot me, and you're not gonna leave me here alone-" not that I would mind if you did that no I should keep him around he's got a gun "-what say we get the fuck out of here?"
Huh. Weird name. At least he had one. Ryan was in no position to judge names, given that she was named after some uncle who'd died before she was born and was inevitably mistaken for a boy by every new teacher calling roll. Whatever, the boy was smiling and the smile seemed forced and everything but whatever. It was an attempt at diplomacy, at keeping this peaceful, and Ryan was cool with that. Bad joke, maybe, but she really did appreciate the part of this conversation where she wasn't being shot.
She'd like to keep that streak going.
“Cardboard box, eh? Yeah, well.” The hand with Jethro's gun moved and Ryan twitched, her fists clenching automatically- she only barely suppressed her instincts quickly enough to avoid moving into fighting stance. She didn't want to reveal her abilities, not if he didn't already know them. But the boy had only moved his gun hand to re-point out the fact that he had a gun, because Ryan had TOTALLY forgotten in the last thirty seconds, and that combined with his smirk- though some part of her knew he meant no offense with it- made her want to punch his head in.
She didn't say that, though. Not getting shot is the key, Ryan, remember that shit. Calm. Center. Ohm or what-the-fuck-ever.
“Girl, let me tell you, you gotta be more careful! I could've shot you up any second back there!”
Ryan's body didn't move this time, but her face twitched for a moment before she got herself back under control, put on a happy face. Internally, though, fuck if I hadn't realized that, Mister Stuarts, no, I didn't realize I made a dumbass fucking move and almost got my ass killed. No, you go ahead and keep pointing out my fucking failure. Yeah, that's it, keep-
It occurred to her that she was being really, really unfair to this boy. He was really just trying to be helpful. Ryan bit her lip.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I wasn't...thinking. I just wanted to go somewhere." She shrugged, keeping her voice level. "Whatever, what's done is done. Now, if you're not gonna shoot me, and you're not gonna leave me here alone-" not that I would mind if you did that no I should keep him around he's got a gun "-what say we get the fuck out of here?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. 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.
(('tis the season to be a slow poster, my apologies))
“Yeah, sure.” he nodded, glancing up and down the hallway carefully. Looks like Ryan had invited herself along for the time being, not that there was anything Jethro could say about it. What, fuck off and go look out for yourself with a cardboard box? Yeah, that would make him asshole of the fucking century.
Dad always said you didn't turn your back on a woman, and you definitely didn't leave them alone in a war zone to die. Never actually said the last part, but he probably meant it when he was giving all those other lectures on the topic; Jethro would've if he was talking to his kid being picked for the Program.
“Damn...” he sighed as he thought of his parents again. They were probably watching him on the cameras right now, him and his entire conversation with this chick and almost blowing her head open on the door behind her in a fit of nerves.
”Definitely can't leave her alone if they're all watching me, then.” he smirked to himself.
“Come on, let's get out of here” he nodded to her once again, raising his gun back up again just in case. The game had been going on for less than an hour, and he'd already found himself a partner in crime. Probably would be dead weight more than anything -
Don't use that word.
A moment of awkward silence.
“Better get moving.”
((Jethro Stuarts continued in Vioectrolysis))
“Yeah, sure.” he nodded, glancing up and down the hallway carefully. Looks like Ryan had invited herself along for the time being, not that there was anything Jethro could say about it. What, fuck off and go look out for yourself with a cardboard box? Yeah, that would make him asshole of the fucking century.
Dad always said you didn't turn your back on a woman, and you definitely didn't leave them alone in a war zone to die. Never actually said the last part, but he probably meant it when he was giving all those other lectures on the topic; Jethro would've if he was talking to his kid being picked for the Program.
“Damn...” he sighed as he thought of his parents again. They were probably watching him on the cameras right now, him and his entire conversation with this chick and almost blowing her head open on the door behind her in a fit of nerves.
”Definitely can't leave her alone if they're all watching me, then.” he smirked to himself.
“Come on, let's get out of here” he nodded to her once again, raising his gun back up again just in case. The game had been going on for less than an hour, and he'd already found himself a partner in crime. Probably would be dead weight more than anything -
Don't use that word.
A moment of awkward silence.
“Better get moving.”
((Jethro Stuarts continued in Vioectrolysis))
-
Hollyquin*
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:41 am
[[Short post due to lack of much to say~]]
"Fuck yeah. Alright, let's do this."
Ryan was...well, she wasn't as pumped as her words may have made her sound, but she was sure as fuck ready to get out out of this...wherever the fuck they were. This building. Where were they, anyway? Her expression suddenly changed, from something like cheerful into a scowl. She didn't want to wander out of this building into a warzone. Well...hell, anywhere would be a warzone, but like...Fucking fuck, I know what I mean. We need a destination. And not to be wandering around doing shit-all waiting for some asshole to waste us both.
"Wait a sec." She dug through her bag, then realized- a sufficiently paranoid mind (her own, for example) would see this as a desperate scramble for a weapon, so she clarified quickly, "I wanna take a look at the map. Figure out where we're headed, savvy?" Savvy? What am I, a fucking pirate?
The map was...not as helpful as Ryan would have hoped. Fuck, it was a bunch of boxes on a big rectangle. But considering that she'd been in a room with a bed, she figured most likely there were in either the officer's quarters, or the barracks. Yeah, that made sense. But where were they supposed to go?
She began to walk as she spoke.
"Alright, well, we're in one of these two buildings, I think-" Ryan pointed to the two on the map "-and I think our best bet is either the mess hall or the field hospital. They're close, and they might have some supplies we'll want to get into."
She didn't state the obvious- that other kids would probably think the same way and end up at one of those locations- but hell, if everyone else thought that everyone would be there, maybe there'd be no one there!
Or maybe Ryan was relying on the whole my-partner-has-a-gun thing.
Whichever.
[[Ryan Montoya continued in Vioectrolysis]]
"Fuck yeah. Alright, let's do this."
Ryan was...well, she wasn't as pumped as her words may have made her sound, but she was sure as fuck ready to get out out of this...wherever the fuck they were. This building. Where were they, anyway? Her expression suddenly changed, from something like cheerful into a scowl. She didn't want to wander out of this building into a warzone. Well...hell, anywhere would be a warzone, but like...Fucking fuck, I know what I mean. We need a destination. And not to be wandering around doing shit-all waiting for some asshole to waste us both.
"Wait a sec." She dug through her bag, then realized- a sufficiently paranoid mind (her own, for example) would see this as a desperate scramble for a weapon, so she clarified quickly, "I wanna take a look at the map. Figure out where we're headed, savvy?" Savvy? What am I, a fucking pirate?
The map was...not as helpful as Ryan would have hoped. Fuck, it was a bunch of boxes on a big rectangle. But considering that she'd been in a room with a bed, she figured most likely there were in either the officer's quarters, or the barracks. Yeah, that made sense. But where were they supposed to go?
She began to walk as she spoke.
"Alright, well, we're in one of these two buildings, I think-" Ryan pointed to the two on the map "-and I think our best bet is either the mess hall or the field hospital. They're close, and they might have some supplies we'll want to get into."
She didn't state the obvious- that other kids would probably think the same way and end up at one of those locations- but hell, if everyone else thought that everyone would be there, maybe there'd be no one there!
Or maybe Ryan was relying on the whole my-partner-has-a-gun thing.
Whichever.
[[Ryan Montoya continued in Vioectrolysis]]
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. 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.