(Brendan Arrington continued from Question?.)
It wasn't right.
What had happened. What had happened just yesterday...that wasn't right. Brendan could still sniff the burning air, the char, the gasoline soaked into the ground. He could hear the flames, the sound of John's pistol as it fired, the sound of Megan screaming, the sound of Wendy screaming...all of it mixed together in a jumble of chaos and anguish that filled his heart and made every step feel like his body was made of lead. It ran over and over again like it was stuck on loop and he could do nothing. Could only remember the horror and the fear...the adrenaline and the despair. If he could have done this...if he could have done that. Thoughts like that nagged at him, filled his mind as he walked around the island.
He had run that time. Ran and ran after Wendy had warned them...just ran. He didn't allow himself to think...didn't allow himself to do anything besides keep moving. It kept his mind away from what had just happened. But he couldn't run forever...and he had to face the facts. Two friends, one a close friend that he had known for a long time and the other someone he had just really got acquainted with, but had liked and respected for his cool head and attitude. Both of them dead minutes of each other. And after what he had said?
'I don't want to lose any of you.'
He had said that with a smile. Light-hearted. He had thought of it was a great movie line. That had been a screencap moment for him. And then reality butt in. Rubbed his words right in his face with the deaths of Chris and Wendy. What was that supposed to be? Some lesson from God to not treat this like a game? He knew it wasn't a game...if he could, he would take back every cheesy line he had said just to have them back with him. But as much as he wished, cursed, railed against the cruelty of what had happened, nothing changed. Reality was a bitch like that.
But he hadn't failed...not completely, at least. Megan was alive. Megan was still safe. And that's all that mattered...as long as she was still alive, still there, he could protect her and still fulfill his promise to himself. He would be the hero. He would keep Megan safe. That's what mattered. It was a pathetic thought...the thought of a man...a boy grasping at the last little bit of hope and idealism left to him, but he grasped it all the same.
He turned back to Megan to make sure she was okay. He offered her a brief smile...worn, sad, but genuine. "Hey...you okay? It's been a while since we've had a break..." He pointed to the building in front of them. "Looks like we made it to the Officer's Quarters, huh...let's take a rest outside and maybe we can investigate what's happening inside. Just in case someone's in there already...we've gotta be careful."
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
((Megan Jacobson, continued from Question?))
It had been ten minutes after they'd started fleeing that Megan had realized Chris was absent. For a while she'd entertained the idea that he'd simply gone another way- found a better way out and met up with some other people, continuing his Program journey elsewhere. But Megan wasn't an overly optimistic person, and while she often preferred her realistic attitude, it sure sucked like a bitch when she concluded that Chris was not continuing his journey anywhere.
But she didn't cry. She kept going on, like the smart and brave person she was supposed to be. There was no time for tears.
She didn't know how long they had walked. She didn't feel anything. She focused all her energy on holding in her tears, and fighting away the nasty little worms of thought that told her she'd be going the same way as Wendy and Chris not too long from now.
It was a horrid thought. Megan was such a lively person- she was energetic, crazy, hyperactive, talkative. The idea that it would all end sent a shiver into every part of her body. She wasn't religious enough to believe in heaven or hell- science had told her that there was no such thing as a soul.
But she was still a poet, damnit. A real shit one, maybe, but she still had that same artistic vibe that she refused to believe came from a part of her brain. It wasn't chemicals and toxins- it was heart and soul.
But that didn't mean there was a God. And that didn't mean he...or she, or them, or whatever, would do anything to help her.
It barely occurred to her that they had even arrived at their so called destination. The Officers Quarters were blurred in her vision. Brendan asked if she was okay.
What the fuck was she supposed to tell him? "Peachy," she hissed, under her breath. Yeah she was peachy fucking keen after watching one of her friends flay herself alive. She was fan-freaking-tastic knowing that she'd left two...three...behind, and that one of them was dead. Maybe all of them. She didn't know.
Now he was saying something about being careful. She didn't care. Her thoughts were elsewhere, preoccupied with herself, as they often were.
See, she couldn't figure out if she was a hero or not. She didn't have the valor, or strength, or courage, or even really the heart to be a hero. She wasn't going to sacrifice or martyr herself for another. But she wasn't willing to kill, like a villain. She had the personality of a villain, and the alignment of a hero, and either way she was still just a girl with a football helmet and one friend.
And then it struck her.
She was playing the game all wrong. She was living it, breathing it, making it real. And of course, it was real and everything, but that wasn't important. Whenever she'd watched the Program at home, Marten and her would talk about the participants as contestants. They were playing a game.
Megan had to play the Program like a game. She needed to go full fledged hero or villain, and at this rate, hero seemed the best option- antihero at worst. She needed a well picked group of ragtag, preferably mixed race kids, all with their own quirk and talent. If Brendan was the hero, she'd be his second in command- she'd throw herself in front of a bullet and die a dramatic, heroic death for him, to be forever remembered by the nation watching.
Of course, the likelihood that she would actually do that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she truly believed she'd do it. If the Program was a game, then Dom and Jen were her team's rivals, to be met and sparred with at random intervals, but never quite defeated. Wendy and Chris were the two team mates who got killed in the first five minutes, and who were there to show that the stakes were high. Brendan was the hero, she was the second- all they needed was a smart kid, a strong kid, a team Mom (or Dad?), a girly girl, and a slightly dark and brooding loner.
Yes, yes. Everything was making sense in Megan's head.
It may have been a very fucked up way of mourning, or dealing with reality, but Megan saw it as pure strategy. It was the most logical decision. It was time to play the game.
"Yeah. That sounds good, commander." She did a mock salute, grinning. "But we really ought to make ourselves a team. We need weaponry and brains, heart and...uh, slightly darker heart. The point is that it's early in the game, and we need to build ourselves up. So the next people we find, we recruit. We make ourselves powerful now, and we ride this baby till endgame."
It all made sense.
The game had started.
And Megan felt awesome.
It had been ten minutes after they'd started fleeing that Megan had realized Chris was absent. For a while she'd entertained the idea that he'd simply gone another way- found a better way out and met up with some other people, continuing his Program journey elsewhere. But Megan wasn't an overly optimistic person, and while she often preferred her realistic attitude, it sure sucked like a bitch when she concluded that Chris was not continuing his journey anywhere.
But she didn't cry. She kept going on, like the smart and brave person she was supposed to be. There was no time for tears.
She didn't know how long they had walked. She didn't feel anything. She focused all her energy on holding in her tears, and fighting away the nasty little worms of thought that told her she'd be going the same way as Wendy and Chris not too long from now.
It was a horrid thought. Megan was such a lively person- she was energetic, crazy, hyperactive, talkative. The idea that it would all end sent a shiver into every part of her body. She wasn't religious enough to believe in heaven or hell- science had told her that there was no such thing as a soul.
But she was still a poet, damnit. A real shit one, maybe, but she still had that same artistic vibe that she refused to believe came from a part of her brain. It wasn't chemicals and toxins- it was heart and soul.
But that didn't mean there was a God. And that didn't mean he...or she, or them, or whatever, would do anything to help her.
It barely occurred to her that they had even arrived at their so called destination. The Officers Quarters were blurred in her vision. Brendan asked if she was okay.
What the fuck was she supposed to tell him? "Peachy," she hissed, under her breath. Yeah she was peachy fucking keen after watching one of her friends flay herself alive. She was fan-freaking-tastic knowing that she'd left two...three...behind, and that one of them was dead. Maybe all of them. She didn't know.
Now he was saying something about being careful. She didn't care. Her thoughts were elsewhere, preoccupied with herself, as they often were.
See, she couldn't figure out if she was a hero or not. She didn't have the valor, or strength, or courage, or even really the heart to be a hero. She wasn't going to sacrifice or martyr herself for another. But she wasn't willing to kill, like a villain. She had the personality of a villain, and the alignment of a hero, and either way she was still just a girl with a football helmet and one friend.
And then it struck her.
She was playing the game all wrong. She was living it, breathing it, making it real. And of course, it was real and everything, but that wasn't important. Whenever she'd watched the Program at home, Marten and her would talk about the participants as contestants. They were playing a game.
Megan had to play the Program like a game. She needed to go full fledged hero or villain, and at this rate, hero seemed the best option- antihero at worst. She needed a well picked group of ragtag, preferably mixed race kids, all with their own quirk and talent. If Brendan was the hero, she'd be his second in command- she'd throw herself in front of a bullet and die a dramatic, heroic death for him, to be forever remembered by the nation watching.
Of course, the likelihood that she would actually do that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she truly believed she'd do it. If the Program was a game, then Dom and Jen were her team's rivals, to be met and sparred with at random intervals, but never quite defeated. Wendy and Chris were the two team mates who got killed in the first five minutes, and who were there to show that the stakes were high. Brendan was the hero, she was the second- all they needed was a smart kid, a strong kid, a team Mom (or Dad?), a girly girl, and a slightly dark and brooding loner.
Yes, yes. Everything was making sense in Megan's head.
It may have been a very fucked up way of mourning, or dealing with reality, but Megan saw it as pure strategy. It was the most logical decision. It was time to play the game.
"Yeah. That sounds good, commander." She did a mock salute, grinning. "But we really ought to make ourselves a team. We need weaponry and brains, heart and...uh, slightly darker heart. The point is that it's early in the game, and we need to build ourselves up. So the next people we find, we recruit. We make ourselves powerful now, and we ride this baby till endgame."
It all made sense.
The game had started.
And Megan felt awesome.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey The Undead. 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.
((Matt Payne continued from Mark it Up))
So...what now?
He really didn't think his amazing plan through.
There was part A) "Get rid of dead-weight homely and plain girl by distracting her."
Part B) "Throw her into unmarked waters and get the hell out."
Part C) "???"
Part D) "Live."
Part C, well, didn't really need that now, since Matt was doing a damn fine job of living.
He wasn't an apt survivalist, but this was just a great time to live. He was laying out the back of the Mess Hall, listening to the various conversations going on around the place. No death. No shooting. No screaming in his vicinity, and thankfully no one familiar. He didn't need this right now, not when he could just take this rare opportunity to sit back and think.
So...killers. There was a few of them running around now. That Maddie Harris chick who tried to off him on the first day? Killer now, didn't surprise him. Just hoped the poor sap who she offed, Damon, got it easy. Slow deaths, they didn't sound pleasant, he'd pretty much mulled over the prospect a few times if someone who for some reason happened to not think highly of him found him here. And yes, he'd even thought of the situation as kinda hot, even considering how much it would hurt. Dying did hurt. But if the process leading up to it was enjoyably painful...well, worth it. Well worth it.
That was strange, he usually didn't think about stuff like this. His inevitable death kinda was a boner-shrinker, don't get him wrong, but...the possibilities were still kinda awe-inspiring, now that he really had proper time to think about it. The nerves in the body could still mix up the responses for pleasure and pain, there was so much that could be done with a knife or a club or a pool cue or a gun before he died.
Stop. Rewind. Start again, way too sick for Matt Payne.
So...cement. Hard cement. Hehehe, hard. No, don't think like that, you're better than that. You've fucked almost everything that's moved, you're more mature than this. Just...cement then. So...this was kinda comfortable. Wasn't that bad, really, better than some of the beds he'd stayed in.
Come to think of it, he hadn't seen that many people around. It might just have been cause he'd been lying down on his back, ignoring most of these people who walked about, skulked about, taken it out of their time to ignore him as well. Not exactly a sneaky chameleon. Couldn't change his skin at whim, could he? Well, he saw this one guy who could make his eyes turn red, but that wasn't the same thing.
How the hell did he manage to do that anyway? From all Matt read his eyes should have been bleeding...
"Yeah. That sounds good, commander. But we really ought to make ourselves a team. We need weaponry and brains, heart and..."
...Hmm.
Matthew pulled himself from the ground as one little conversation that was going on not far away from his little hidey-hole in the middle of everywhere piqued his interest.
"...uh, slightly darker heart. The point is that it's early in the game, and we need to build ourselves up. So the next people we find, we recruit. We make ourselves powerful now, and-"
Now...whoever this was, they had a plan. A plan...that he could easily become of use to. Brains? Perfect. Looks? Perfect. According to her plan, he'd probably die first. At least, the plan that seemed to consist of cliches.
Matt sprung up from the ground with his bag on his should, and wandered over behind the two, standing in front of the officer's quarters.
This...could be something I could get behind. And in more ways than one I see, they have the most spectacular-
"-we ride this baby till endgame."
Wow, looks like someone's determined. Awesome.
Matt cleared his throat, and smiled for one of the first times in hours.
"Did someone say team?"
So...what now?
He really didn't think his amazing plan through.
There was part A) "Get rid of dead-weight homely and plain girl by distracting her."
Part B) "Throw her into unmarked waters and get the hell out."
Part C) "???"
Part D) "Live."
Part C, well, didn't really need that now, since Matt was doing a damn fine job of living.
He wasn't an apt survivalist, but this was just a great time to live. He was laying out the back of the Mess Hall, listening to the various conversations going on around the place. No death. No shooting. No screaming in his vicinity, and thankfully no one familiar. He didn't need this right now, not when he could just take this rare opportunity to sit back and think.
So...killers. There was a few of them running around now. That Maddie Harris chick who tried to off him on the first day? Killer now, didn't surprise him. Just hoped the poor sap who she offed, Damon, got it easy. Slow deaths, they didn't sound pleasant, he'd pretty much mulled over the prospect a few times if someone who for some reason happened to not think highly of him found him here. And yes, he'd even thought of the situation as kinda hot, even considering how much it would hurt. Dying did hurt. But if the process leading up to it was enjoyably painful...well, worth it. Well worth it.
That was strange, he usually didn't think about stuff like this. His inevitable death kinda was a boner-shrinker, don't get him wrong, but...the possibilities were still kinda awe-inspiring, now that he really had proper time to think about it. The nerves in the body could still mix up the responses for pleasure and pain, there was so much that could be done with a knife or a club or a pool cue or a gun before he died.
Stop. Rewind. Start again, way too sick for Matt Payne.
So...cement. Hard cement. Hehehe, hard. No, don't think like that, you're better than that. You've fucked almost everything that's moved, you're more mature than this. Just...cement then. So...this was kinda comfortable. Wasn't that bad, really, better than some of the beds he'd stayed in.
Come to think of it, he hadn't seen that many people around. It might just have been cause he'd been lying down on his back, ignoring most of these people who walked about, skulked about, taken it out of their time to ignore him as well. Not exactly a sneaky chameleon. Couldn't change his skin at whim, could he? Well, he saw this one guy who could make his eyes turn red, but that wasn't the same thing.
How the hell did he manage to do that anyway? From all Matt read his eyes should have been bleeding...
"Yeah. That sounds good, commander. But we really ought to make ourselves a team. We need weaponry and brains, heart and..."
...Hmm.
Matthew pulled himself from the ground as one little conversation that was going on not far away from his little hidey-hole in the middle of everywhere piqued his interest.
"...uh, slightly darker heart. The point is that it's early in the game, and we need to build ourselves up. So the next people we find, we recruit. We make ourselves powerful now, and-"
Now...whoever this was, they had a plan. A plan...that he could easily become of use to. Brains? Perfect. Looks? Perfect. According to her plan, he'd probably die first. At least, the plan that seemed to consist of cliches.
Matt sprung up from the ground with his bag on his should, and wandered over behind the two, standing in front of the officer's quarters.
This...could be something I could get behind. And in more ways than one I see, they have the most spectacular-
"-we ride this baby till endgame."
Wow, looks like someone's determined. Awesome.
Matt cleared his throat, and smiled for one of the first times in hours.
"Did someone say team?"
Brendan was a little caught off-guard by Megan's hissed reply to his question, but then again he supposed it made sense. Why the hell would she be okay after what had just happened? It was a dumb question, now that he thought about it. He should have thought of something different to say...it was so much harder to say things in these sorts of situations without a good script. Or prior experience. Or...anything, really. It was just hard. So he fell silent, looking over at the building as he folded his arms across his chest, wondering just what the hell they were going to do.
What he wasn't expecting was for Megan to voice a plan...and a fairly good one, albeit kind of goofy and more...movie cliche'd than he would have expected. Brendan turned to look at her, slightly worried at her sudden change of mood. She was rather...excited and happy about the whole deal, which was pretty much a complete 180 from what she had been a few minutes ago. But he couldn't complain...it was refreshing to see her like this again. He returned her salute and nodded. "Sounds good, Lieutenant. I'll be counting on you."
And it seemed like their plan was already getting a start as someone popped out of nowhere and...kind of introduced himself? He more asked about the team, but it was a better introduction than anything. Dude didn't start spraying bullets everywhere or acting hostile, so Brendan felt at ease and offered the other boy a genuine smile. He nodded. "Yeah. Things work better in groups, right? And it's better to stick together...watch each others' backs so that we can all survive."
"So...you interested? What's your name...Matt, right? I kind of recognize you."
What he wasn't expecting was for Megan to voice a plan...and a fairly good one, albeit kind of goofy and more...movie cliche'd than he would have expected. Brendan turned to look at her, slightly worried at her sudden change of mood. She was rather...excited and happy about the whole deal, which was pretty much a complete 180 from what she had been a few minutes ago. But he couldn't complain...it was refreshing to see her like this again. He returned her salute and nodded. "Sounds good, Lieutenant. I'll be counting on you."
And it seemed like their plan was already getting a start as someone popped out of nowhere and...kind of introduced himself? He more asked about the team, but it was a better introduction than anything. Dude didn't start spraying bullets everywhere or acting hostile, so Brendan felt at ease and offered the other boy a genuine smile. He nodded. "Yeah. Things work better in groups, right? And it's better to stick together...watch each others' backs so that we can all survive."
"So...you interested? What's your name...Matt, right? I kind of recognize you."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Tythanin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Megan was extremely pleased by Brendan's reply. It was very comforting to know that she actually wound up on a team with someone who was, dare she say, not freaked the fuck out by her randomness. Friends were always good teammates. He even called her Lieutenant! She got to be a Lieutenant! This was fucking awesome!
She still smelled a bit like smoke. But if she really focused, it was more like she'd just been smoking about...like, nine or ten packs of cigarettes. Which, hey, was fine, cause all the cool antiheroes smoked anyway. Not that she had any cigarettes. And their only lighter had blown up when Wendy-
Oh hey look, new person. Megan looked the kid up and down, knowing him almost instantaneously. Matt. Matt Payne. Besides having what she could only think was possibly the coolest last name ever (though she had once met a Bloodsaw, which was nearly impossible to top) he was also a major man-ho.
"You're perfect!" Megan was pumped. This was the most awesome person to have met at this point. Because every team needed a loveable whorebiscuit, and, if her memory was right (which in fairness was very, very rarely) then he was also pretty bright. She tried to remember if she had any classes with him, and failed miserably.
So instead, she opted for doing what she did best- running up and swallowing the boy in a massive hug. "You are amazing and have, like, the best timing ever and I fucking LOVE you!"
She stepped back, grinning wildly. It was like the Program gods...or producers or generals or whatever had looked down upon her and thought that she was just cool enough to get her own super special team of badassery.
Now all the needed was a girly girl (one who didn't set herself on fire, preferably), a loner, and a big, tough, manly sonofabeetch.
Lieutenant Megan Jacobson's first five minutes of duty were going quite swimmingly. Except that maybe this kid didn't really know who she was, which only crossed her mind right then. She really needed to work on not randomly hugging people.
"Oh wait. Right. Names and stuff. I know that we haven't slept together...at least I really hope we haven't slept together... But I mean, anyways, being that you and I have not ever been in a drunken tangle of love, you might not know who I am. Megan. Or Queen Megs. Or the Awesome One. Any of those work, really."
This was going so well. For once in her life, things were going good! Minus the smoke. And the blowing up. And the death. But, hey, silver lining, right? Sunny side of the street. Like an egg.
Oh damn now she wanted eggs. Couldn't they have, like, buffet service or something? Gee. How rude of the United States Government.
Wait. what was she supposed to be doing? It didn't have anything to do with eggs. Or her craving for Diet Soda.
Oh right. Matt. Her new bunch of epic heroes. He wondered if he knew how to defend himself. Weapons. She needed to get to the point much faster than she was, currently. Why was she even thinking of eggs? It was like she was getting slowly crazier with every passing second.
Focus goddamnit! Drop the eggs and get with the Program!
Oh shit that was a lame pun.
OH FUCK, FOCUSING, RIGHT.
"Oh, and what's your weapon? Not to sound rude or anything, but right now the only thing I'm good for is if someone tries to sac me." Megan pointed to the Helmet of Doooooooom, shrugging. "And if we really want to be a team of the greatest heroes on the planet, clearly we need better weapons."
Right. Back on track now.
Even though she still wanted some eggs.
Except, wait. She didn't even like eggs, did she?
What the fuck is wrong with me?!
She still smelled a bit like smoke. But if she really focused, it was more like she'd just been smoking about...like, nine or ten packs of cigarettes. Which, hey, was fine, cause all the cool antiheroes smoked anyway. Not that she had any cigarettes. And their only lighter had blown up when Wendy-
Oh hey look, new person. Megan looked the kid up and down, knowing him almost instantaneously. Matt. Matt Payne. Besides having what she could only think was possibly the coolest last name ever (though she had once met a Bloodsaw, which was nearly impossible to top) he was also a major man-ho.
"You're perfect!" Megan was pumped. This was the most awesome person to have met at this point. Because every team needed a loveable whorebiscuit, and, if her memory was right (which in fairness was very, very rarely) then he was also pretty bright. She tried to remember if she had any classes with him, and failed miserably.
So instead, she opted for doing what she did best- running up and swallowing the boy in a massive hug. "You are amazing and have, like, the best timing ever and I fucking LOVE you!"
She stepped back, grinning wildly. It was like the Program gods...or producers or generals or whatever had looked down upon her and thought that she was just cool enough to get her own super special team of badassery.
Now all the needed was a girly girl (one who didn't set herself on fire, preferably), a loner, and a big, tough, manly sonofabeetch.
Lieutenant Megan Jacobson's first five minutes of duty were going quite swimmingly. Except that maybe this kid didn't really know who she was, which only crossed her mind right then. She really needed to work on not randomly hugging people.
"Oh wait. Right. Names and stuff. I know that we haven't slept together...at least I really hope we haven't slept together... But I mean, anyways, being that you and I have not ever been in a drunken tangle of love, you might not know who I am. Megan. Or Queen Megs. Or the Awesome One. Any of those work, really."
This was going so well. For once in her life, things were going good! Minus the smoke. And the blowing up. And the death. But, hey, silver lining, right? Sunny side of the street. Like an egg.
Oh damn now she wanted eggs. Couldn't they have, like, buffet service or something? Gee. How rude of the United States Government.
Wait. what was she supposed to be doing? It didn't have anything to do with eggs. Or her craving for Diet Soda.
Oh right. Matt. Her new bunch of epic heroes. He wondered if he knew how to defend himself. Weapons. She needed to get to the point much faster than she was, currently. Why was she even thinking of eggs? It was like she was getting slowly crazier with every passing second.
Focus goddamnit! Drop the eggs and get with the Program!
Oh shit that was a lame pun.
OH FUCK, FOCUSING, RIGHT.
"Oh, and what's your weapon? Not to sound rude or anything, but right now the only thing I'm good for is if someone tries to sac me." Megan pointed to the Helmet of Doooooooom, shrugging. "And if we really want to be a team of the greatest heroes on the planet, clearly we need better weapons."
Right. Back on track now.
Even though she still wanted some eggs.
Except, wait. She didn't even like eggs, did she?
What the fuck is wrong with me?!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey The Undead. 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.
"You're perfect!"
Well yes, I know that, but-woah hot girl in arms hot girl in arms resist urge to grab ass RESIST IT MATT.
Well, Megan Jacobson was an improvement over "tiny cute little girl with gun" and "plain homely girl who didn't even need him anyway". Of course, he didn't expect her to start lavishing him with all sorts of compliments the moment he arrived. Well, it wasn't a bad thing persee, but it was just unexpected is all.
So hottie girl introduced herself. Course, he already knew everyone in his year, so no real introductions were in order. Megan Jacobson, little hot girl, weird hot girl, but weird was usually the way to go around here. OH, and don't forget Brendon Arrignton, a fine specimen on his own. It took all his energy to resist trying to wrangle a three-way out of this, cause come on, these guys wouldn't know what hit them.
So, here came the inevitable. Inebitable. Inebitevitable. Whatever. Here came whatever, Megan wanted to know what weapon he had. Well, not much to add to that array, unfortunately. Dammit, if he'd just gotten into plain and homely girl's pants, then he would have a gun now.
Instead, Matt shrugged, and gave the back of his head a good scratch.
"Well, can't help you there, cuties, all I had was a lock-picking kit, and that's gone now anyway cause I had to run and I left it behind. Really, either of you can search me, strip search me if you have to...though you look like you've got better hands, Brendon, so if you really wanna, I'll leave that to you. But yeah, no weapon, sucks ass, and not in the go-actually never mind. No weapon, right."
There was an awkward silence, in which Matt shoved his hands in his pocket and rocked back and forth on the spot a few times before-
"So we need anyone else? Cause if we don't I suggest we just go and have a threesome now, get rid of all the sexual tension."
Dammit Matt.
Well yes, I know that, but-woah hot girl in arms hot girl in arms resist urge to grab ass RESIST IT MATT.
Well, Megan Jacobson was an improvement over "tiny cute little girl with gun" and "plain homely girl who didn't even need him anyway". Of course, he didn't expect her to start lavishing him with all sorts of compliments the moment he arrived. Well, it wasn't a bad thing persee, but it was just unexpected is all.
So hottie girl introduced herself. Course, he already knew everyone in his year, so no real introductions were in order. Megan Jacobson, little hot girl, weird hot girl, but weird was usually the way to go around here. OH, and don't forget Brendon Arrignton, a fine specimen on his own. It took all his energy to resist trying to wrangle a three-way out of this, cause come on, these guys wouldn't know what hit them.
So, here came the inevitable. Inebitable. Inebitevitable. Whatever. Here came whatever, Megan wanted to know what weapon he had. Well, not much to add to that array, unfortunately. Dammit, if he'd just gotten into plain and homely girl's pants, then he would have a gun now.
Instead, Matt shrugged, and gave the back of his head a good scratch.
"Well, can't help you there, cuties, all I had was a lock-picking kit, and that's gone now anyway cause I had to run and I left it behind. Really, either of you can search me, strip search me if you have to...though you look like you've got better hands, Brendon, so if you really wanna, I'll leave that to you. But yeah, no weapon, sucks ass, and not in the go-actually never mind. No weapon, right."
There was an awkward silence, in which Matt shoved his hands in his pocket and rocked back and forth on the spot a few times before-
"So we need anyone else? Cause if we don't I suggest we just go and have a threesome now, get rid of all the sexual tension."
Dammit Matt.
To say that Megan was utterly psyched to see Matt was a bit of an understatement. Brendon could only watch in what one could describe as wide-eyed surprise as she practically bear hugged Matt and he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut as Megan began on her...spiel? He wasn't really sure what to categorize it, but hey, same ol' Megan as usual, which was always a good thing. A smirk appeared on his face as she talked about being the best damn heroes ever and he wondered if it really would be possible. After all, the game only ended when there was one winner, right? Unless his was the first team to ever actually just goddamn win the game.
...That would be pretty awesome, now that he thought about it. His whole fighting, winning, conquering team just blasting away the opposition. All for one and one for all, or however that quote was supposed to go. This really was looking better and better...well, almost anything would be better than what had happened a few hours ago. Ugh, just thinking about it was messing up his mood, so he shoved it aside and turned his attention back to Matt.
It...rather sucked that he didn't have a weapon...and that he had left his assigned weapon behind. A lockpicking kit might have actually been useful but-wait what?
Brendon blinked for a couple of minutes, trying to make sure he had heart Matt correctly. Yep. It was right.
"Uhhhh..."
He really had no way to respond. That question was so out of left field that it probably could have been beamed in by aliens from outer space and it still wouldn't match how unexpected that was. Was there actually sexual tension? If this was a movie, this was way too fucking early for sexual tension. That only happened later, in last stand or the night before the last stand scenarios, and he was pretty certain they weren't all going to die sometime. And he was pretty certain Megan wasn't trying to jump someone...well, not sexually, at least.
And besides, Matt was a dude. Brendon didn't really have anything against gays or anything, but come on, dude. Now if Matt had been a chick...threesome would have looked AWESOME. But probably never happening. He quickly decided to steer clear of this train of thought and decided to think of a reply. He really wasn't succeeding.
So...
"Uhhhh...Sorry, but I...really didn't have anything like that in mind. I mean...what with everything else going on and shit." He began. "So uh...I'll have to decline your offer? I guess? I mean, now's really not the time, right? And I don't know about you, but I was pretty certain there wasn't any sexual tension. ...Was there?"
...Maybe they could just edit that out somehow.
...That would be pretty awesome, now that he thought about it. His whole fighting, winning, conquering team just blasting away the opposition. All for one and one for all, or however that quote was supposed to go. This really was looking better and better...well, almost anything would be better than what had happened a few hours ago. Ugh, just thinking about it was messing up his mood, so he shoved it aside and turned his attention back to Matt.
It...rather sucked that he didn't have a weapon...and that he had left his assigned weapon behind. A lockpicking kit might have actually been useful but-wait what?
Brendon blinked for a couple of minutes, trying to make sure he had heart Matt correctly. Yep. It was right.
"Uhhhh..."
He really had no way to respond. That question was so out of left field that it probably could have been beamed in by aliens from outer space and it still wouldn't match how unexpected that was. Was there actually sexual tension? If this was a movie, this was way too fucking early for sexual tension. That only happened later, in last stand or the night before the last stand scenarios, and he was pretty certain they weren't all going to die sometime. And he was pretty certain Megan wasn't trying to jump someone...well, not sexually, at least.
And besides, Matt was a dude. Brendon didn't really have anything against gays or anything, but come on, dude. Now if Matt had been a chick...threesome would have looked AWESOME. But probably never happening. He quickly decided to steer clear of this train of thought and decided to think of a reply. He really wasn't succeeding.
So...
"Uhhhh...Sorry, but I...really didn't have anything like that in mind. I mean...what with everything else going on and shit." He began. "So uh...I'll have to decline your offer? I guess? I mean, now's really not the time, right? And I don't know about you, but I was pretty certain there wasn't any sexual tension. ...Was there?"
...Maybe they could just edit that out somehow.
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-
Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Oh hey, threesome offers. Welp. This was a first, that was for damn sure. Megan could have thought of several witty and smart ways to respond, or she could have ignored it, or several other options, but Megan wasn't always so good at that whole "thinking things through before you say them" stuff, so instead, she just sorta blurted her response out.
"Awwww! That's so sweet! But if you try to touch me, I'll rip your dick out and shove it into your eye socket, kay?" Her smile never faded. In fact, she was giggling a bit. And probably bright red. She was 15, not very experienced with threesomes. Hell, she'd never been offered regular sex before...threesomes were like...woah.
But yeah, anyways, no more sexy talk, because it was making Megan uncomfortable, and she suddenly felt very awkward. Oh god. It wasn't going to be a love triangle or some shit, was it? Megan couldn't deal with that nonsense, hell no. And she was still looking for Ben. And kinda Dom. Though not really Dom, cause he mostly just bothered her.
But still. That was a lot of dudes. Man she needed some estrogen friends, didn't she? Well, Wendy was all...explodified...so that was a no, and Sherri was off in somewhere land. Sherri would be a good estrogen buddy. She needed more ladies.
"God, we need more tits in this group." Oh wait. Oh shitballs she'd said that out loud. Oh god. No. That came out wrong. "I mean...whoops that was supposed to be a brain thought. ANYWAYS!"
Megan took a sliiiiiiight step away from the boys, nodding furiously. Nope. She'd said nothing about tits in front of them. Tits were off the table.
That was a fun word to say. Tits. It wasn't even that vulgar. Better than Tatas, or whatever crap people always called them. Or "the girls." Oh god, that was annoying. It made Megan feel like her chest had a mind of it's own.
And please. It was her ass that had a mind of it's own, obviously.
"But right. There was a point to this whole thing, yes? Yes yes. Very good. Weapons. We need those. And more people. We need them too. And not having sex. Also something we need. Because sex is...well, I guess I don't want to die a virgin, but I don't really care. But my parents are watching, and I'm already swearing a shitload...buttload...I mean...and I don't want to shock them by flashing the entire country as well. So no sex. Awesome."
Wait no fuck everything had gone back to sex. That wasn't supposed to happen.
"I MEAN WEAPONS. God damn. You guys got my head all in the gutter. Shooooo." Megan made a shameful clicking noise with her tongue, shaking her head like some disappointed great Aunt. "For shame you two. Making an innocent young thing like me all objectified and filthy. Why I never!"
Point. There was a point.
Oh who was she kidding, there was never a point.
"But anyways yes. We should...stop discussing this topic and switch to a new topic in a non-awkward way. So...uh...how bout them current events?"
Megan grinned. Segue: achieved.
"Oh my god you guys. We are so cool. For reals. Team Bitchin, up in this."
Badassery: also achieved.
Awesomeness: Totally there. Fuck yes.
This was way to cool for words.
"Awwww! That's so sweet! But if you try to touch me, I'll rip your dick out and shove it into your eye socket, kay?" Her smile never faded. In fact, she was giggling a bit. And probably bright red. She was 15, not very experienced with threesomes. Hell, she'd never been offered regular sex before...threesomes were like...woah.
But yeah, anyways, no more sexy talk, because it was making Megan uncomfortable, and she suddenly felt very awkward. Oh god. It wasn't going to be a love triangle or some shit, was it? Megan couldn't deal with that nonsense, hell no. And she was still looking for Ben. And kinda Dom. Though not really Dom, cause he mostly just bothered her.
But still. That was a lot of dudes. Man she needed some estrogen friends, didn't she? Well, Wendy was all...explodified...so that was a no, and Sherri was off in somewhere land. Sherri would be a good estrogen buddy. She needed more ladies.
"God, we need more tits in this group." Oh wait. Oh shitballs she'd said that out loud. Oh god. No. That came out wrong. "I mean...whoops that was supposed to be a brain thought. ANYWAYS!"
Megan took a sliiiiiiight step away from the boys, nodding furiously. Nope. She'd said nothing about tits in front of them. Tits were off the table.
That was a fun word to say. Tits. It wasn't even that vulgar. Better than Tatas, or whatever crap people always called them. Or "the girls." Oh god, that was annoying. It made Megan feel like her chest had a mind of it's own.
And please. It was her ass that had a mind of it's own, obviously.
"But right. There was a point to this whole thing, yes? Yes yes. Very good. Weapons. We need those. And more people. We need them too. And not having sex. Also something we need. Because sex is...well, I guess I don't want to die a virgin, but I don't really care. But my parents are watching, and I'm already swearing a shitload...buttload...I mean...and I don't want to shock them by flashing the entire country as well. So no sex. Awesome."
Wait no fuck everything had gone back to sex. That wasn't supposed to happen.
"I MEAN WEAPONS. God damn. You guys got my head all in the gutter. Shooooo." Megan made a shameful clicking noise with her tongue, shaking her head like some disappointed great Aunt. "For shame you two. Making an innocent young thing like me all objectified and filthy. Why I never!"
Point. There was a point.
Oh who was she kidding, there was never a point.
"But anyways yes. We should...stop discussing this topic and switch to a new topic in a non-awkward way. So...uh...how bout them current events?"
Megan grinned. Segue: achieved.
"Oh my god you guys. We are so cool. For reals. Team Bitchin, up in this."
Badassery: also achieved.
Awesomeness: Totally there. Fuck yes.
This was way to cool for words.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey The Undead. 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.
Wait, they actually took him seriously? Matthew chuckled. No, there was no way he would ever actually wrangle a threesome in this place. Bummer. Kind of a bummer, really. There was this time, with these twins, and it was so close, but alas, didn't happen. Good deal too, they were Texan.
"Guys. It was a joke. You don't have to be such Negative Nancy's and Neil's here. Like, we're probably gonna die...yeah, it's a bummer, but really, we've been to the same school for all our lives, you had to at least guessed I was joking, right?" This was going nowhere. SEGUE. "Like, you're cute, but not really my type." WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SEGUE? "Not that...that's a good, bad, whatever thing. I'll just...yeah, we don't have sexual tension or anything, way too early for that I suppose. Like I said. Joke." SEGUE. NOW.
NOW.
"So, uh. Yeah. Team Bitchin. Nice, I suppose."
...huh.
"So what do you propose we do...General Megan was it?"
"Guys. It was a joke. You don't have to be such Negative Nancy's and Neil's here. Like, we're probably gonna die...yeah, it's a bummer, but really, we've been to the same school for all our lives, you had to at least guessed I was joking, right?" This was going nowhere. SEGUE. "Like, you're cute, but not really my type." WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SEGUE? "Not that...that's a good, bad, whatever thing. I'll just...yeah, we don't have sexual tension or anything, way too early for that I suppose. Like I said. Joke." SEGUE. NOW.
NOW.
"So, uh. Yeah. Team Bitchin. Nice, I suppose."
...huh.
"So what do you propose we do...General Megan was it?"
((Tyler Blake continued from Strange Fruit))
Interestingly enough, Tyler Blake already owned a copy of his issued 'weapon'. It was well thumbed, and a couple of the pages were torn or missing (something which he deeply regretted, feeling an almost childlike shame over it happening). It was something that he'd read many times over, even took it around with him for a couple of months. 'Songs of Our Nation'.
Songs of Our Nation...
Tyler had sung along to the national anthem, under his breath, of course. It would've felt grossly well... it would've just felt wrong not to have done. You didn't ignore the national anthem, even if it were a borderline nutjob like Adams that was singing it.
Songs of Our great Nation.
And people were killing each other.
Goddammit. That wasn't how this was supposed to be going. He was supposed to bringing them round, stopping them from playing, getting them to settle down and show that they were the right kind've people, that the game didn't have to continue... It would defeat the object to FORCE them to kill... therefore the object had to be to NOT kill, and therefore win by showing they had enough solidarity and faith in each other as Americans to not have to resort to murdering each other like... like, well... foreigners.
Haha yes! He had the answer!
...Now he just had to spread the word to everyone else before it was too late, right?
Right.
Time for Tyler to get going.
Of course, it didn't take long before he spotted a group - a trio - standing outside one of the buildings. The compound wasn't large, and by his count, there were still a lot of them left... left al- around the place. That was good. The more people he could talk to, the better, right? Right, of course he was. Quickly, paying little mind to anything that could happen - typical Tyler - he headed towards them, a broad smile on his face.
"Hey! Hey guys! It's Tyler, Tyler Blake!"
Interestingly enough, Tyler Blake already owned a copy of his issued 'weapon'. It was well thumbed, and a couple of the pages were torn or missing (something which he deeply regretted, feeling an almost childlike shame over it happening). It was something that he'd read many times over, even took it around with him for a couple of months. 'Songs of Our Nation'.
Songs of Our Nation...
Tyler had sung along to the national anthem, under his breath, of course. It would've felt grossly well... it would've just felt wrong not to have done. You didn't ignore the national anthem, even if it were a borderline nutjob like Adams that was singing it.
Songs of Our great Nation.
And people were killing each other.
Goddammit. That wasn't how this was supposed to be going. He was supposed to bringing them round, stopping them from playing, getting them to settle down and show that they were the right kind've people, that the game didn't have to continue... It would defeat the object to FORCE them to kill... therefore the object had to be to NOT kill, and therefore win by showing they had enough solidarity and faith in each other as Americans to not have to resort to murdering each other like... like, well... foreigners.
Haha yes! He had the answer!
...Now he just had to spread the word to everyone else before it was too late, right?
Right.
Time for Tyler to get going.
Of course, it didn't take long before he spotted a group - a trio - standing outside one of the buildings. The compound wasn't large, and by his count, there were still a lot of them left... left al- around the place. That was good. The more people he could talk to, the better, right? Right, of course he was. Quickly, paying little mind to anything that could happen - typical Tyler - he headed towards them, a broad smile on his face.
"Hey! Hey guys! It's Tyler, Tyler Blake!"
((Continued from: Vera))
This building was filled with bad thoughts and memories; he couldn't stay here. Luke needed to get out of here.
He needed to figure things out on his own now. How he was going to pull this whole thing off. He needed allies, but yet, at the same time, he didn't really want to stay with people he knew, at least not right now. He didn't want to end up close to them, only to have them dying on him, like Sor did earlier. He couldn't bring himself to deal with that experience again. It hurt too much.
But there were three things Sor wanted from him, and one of those things?
"Don't let me... get you down. I want you to be the same cool handed Luke you've always been. Not any of those other bums, who let depression get the better of them. Got that?"
Yeah, he had to get over it, couldn't let himself lose touch with himself. He would... as soon as he could at least. For now, he hoped to avoid anyone he knew too well. It was too soon. Plus, he needed to eat. Then he reached it.
Ah good, the exit... finally!
*
He stepped out, breathing in the cool night air. It was refreshing to be outside again. Now would be the best time to be on the move in fact, just like he did earlier and the Louis Johnson kid after that. People, would most likely be resting or even sleeping rather than on the prowl. Now's the perfect time to traverse safely - well as safely as the program could offer at night at least..
"Oh my god you guys. We are so cool. For reals. Team Bitchin, up in this."
People? Shit. And it wasn't just anyone, no that voice was entirely familiar, it was the spunky girl, Megan Jacobson. There was no questioning that peppy voice of hers. And she was loud too. She was a friend. Shit, he couldn't stumble across another friend, not now. He was just thinking about that too, and here he was, stumbling into one... no. NO, not one, THREE folks among his circle of friends in school. How about that luck? He stepped back into the building, peeking through and listening, waiting for them to move on, so he could get out of there unseen.
It was his luck, that the lights throughout the compound were on, and they were BRIGHT. His shades were more than just a fashion statement here at night, after all.
The conversation was loud. He knew the two boys too. The Lothario in getting action, in Matt Payne, and the always funny B.A. Brendan Arrington. The voices were clear, and they were close enough to see the faces. It was strange as the normally class-clown-like Brendan seemed to be the voice of reason in this group of hyper-actives. Megan and Matt both had their backs facing him, but Brendan was in the perfect spot to see anyone leaving the building. Damn. It was tough, but he'd have to wait until -
"Hey! Hey guys! It's Tyler, Tyler Blake!"
YES. Thank you Tyler Blake!
Tyler was another person who he knew quite well, the super-goody-top-of-the-food-chain-boy, that he was in General Pride's High School. They were acquainted pretty well, in football, before Luke quit. Nice guy, and great timing too! So that made 4, FOUR people he knew outside. If this was any other time, like at school or something, he'd walk right up to them, and hang out a little, cruise together like a bunch of typical high school kids. Unfortunately this wasn't school. His revolver, hidden with in his jacket, and the hatchet strapped to his back reminded him of their location. Damn.
With their heads turned toward Tyler, running and yelling to them, Luke made his quick get away. He'd be ready to talk to these friends later, um.. after eating. Yeah, that's it.. after dinner.
((Luke Mendoza Continued to: Monkey on My Back.))
This building was filled with bad thoughts and memories; he couldn't stay here. Luke needed to get out of here.
He needed to figure things out on his own now. How he was going to pull this whole thing off. He needed allies, but yet, at the same time, he didn't really want to stay with people he knew, at least not right now. He didn't want to end up close to them, only to have them dying on him, like Sor did earlier. He couldn't bring himself to deal with that experience again. It hurt too much.
But there were three things Sor wanted from him, and one of those things?
"Don't let me... get you down. I want you to be the same cool handed Luke you've always been. Not any of those other bums, who let depression get the better of them. Got that?"
Yeah, he had to get over it, couldn't let himself lose touch with himself. He would... as soon as he could at least. For now, he hoped to avoid anyone he knew too well. It was too soon. Plus, he needed to eat. Then he reached it.
Ah good, the exit... finally!
*
He stepped out, breathing in the cool night air. It was refreshing to be outside again. Now would be the best time to be on the move in fact, just like he did earlier and the Louis Johnson kid after that. People, would most likely be resting or even sleeping rather than on the prowl. Now's the perfect time to traverse safely - well as safely as the program could offer at night at least..
"Oh my god you guys. We are so cool. For reals. Team Bitchin, up in this."
People? Shit. And it wasn't just anyone, no that voice was entirely familiar, it was the spunky girl, Megan Jacobson. There was no questioning that peppy voice of hers. And she was loud too. She was a friend. Shit, he couldn't stumble across another friend, not now. He was just thinking about that too, and here he was, stumbling into one... no. NO, not one, THREE folks among his circle of friends in school. How about that luck? He stepped back into the building, peeking through and listening, waiting for them to move on, so he could get out of there unseen.
It was his luck, that the lights throughout the compound were on, and they were BRIGHT. His shades were more than just a fashion statement here at night, after all.
The conversation was loud. He knew the two boys too. The Lothario in getting action, in Matt Payne, and the always funny B.A. Brendan Arrington. The voices were clear, and they were close enough to see the faces. It was strange as the normally class-clown-like Brendan seemed to be the voice of reason in this group of hyper-actives. Megan and Matt both had their backs facing him, but Brendan was in the perfect spot to see anyone leaving the building. Damn. It was tough, but he'd have to wait until -
"Hey! Hey guys! It's Tyler, Tyler Blake!"
YES. Thank you Tyler Blake!
Tyler was another person who he knew quite well, the super-goody-top-of-the-food-chain-boy, that he was in General Pride's High School. They were acquainted pretty well, in football, before Luke quit. Nice guy, and great timing too! So that made 4, FOUR people he knew outside. If this was any other time, like at school or something, he'd walk right up to them, and hang out a little, cruise together like a bunch of typical high school kids. Unfortunately this wasn't school. His revolver, hidden with in his jacket, and the hatchet strapped to his back reminded him of their location. Damn.
With their heads turned toward Tyler, running and yelling to them, Luke made his quick get away. He'd be ready to talk to these friends later, um.. after eating. Yeah, that's it.. after dinner.
((Luke Mendoza Continued to: Monkey on My Back.))
'Whoa, well that also came out of fucking left field? Maybe from right outfield then, cause what the hell.' Brendan probably should have been surprised at Megan's sharp rejoinder of Matt's suggestion, but the way she said it with a smile sent a shiver down his spine. Those words and that expression didn't match at all and it was freaking him the fuck out. Luckily she kept talking and the scary Megan words from before went back to the normal crazy Megan words that he was more used to. Crazy Megan words that kept returning to sex, but crazy Megan words nonetheless. Good. '...Team Bitchin'? ...I guess it could be worse. I mean, it's better than Team Assholes or Team Dipshits or hey, better than Team Threesome. Dear god there are so many names that are better than Team Threesome.'
Oh good. Matt was joking. Thank god, he didn't want to think about what would happen if the boy had been serious. It...was a weird joke, though, but hey, it's not like Matt had actually done anything except make everyone feel slightly uncomfortable and made Megan act like a psychotic killer, so really it was all good. He just shrugged and gave Matt a slight grin. "Well, okay. As for plans...well, what we're really needing is just a good set of weapons. We won't be able to defend ourselves or do anything without at least one good weapon, so that's number one on the list. Got it? Good. Even a table leg would be great."
"So how about we-" He was stopped when heard someone else's voice and he turned to see someone running towards them. He recognized the other boy immediately and gave him a wave. "Yo, hey Tyler! How's it going? Glad to see you're doing fine! Get over here!"
Man, another person already? Things were just looking up for them. It was almost like how it was at the beginning...but this time Brendon was not going to let his team get attacked or killed. That last time was a mistake...but there was no way he was going to let it happen again. This would be one time history wouldn't repeat itself.
Oh good. Matt was joking. Thank god, he didn't want to think about what would happen if the boy had been serious. It...was a weird joke, though, but hey, it's not like Matt had actually done anything except make everyone feel slightly uncomfortable and made Megan act like a psychotic killer, so really it was all good. He just shrugged and gave Matt a slight grin. "Well, okay. As for plans...well, what we're really needing is just a good set of weapons. We won't be able to defend ourselves or do anything without at least one good weapon, so that's number one on the list. Got it? Good. Even a table leg would be great."
"So how about we-" He was stopped when heard someone else's voice and he turned to see someone running towards them. He recognized the other boy immediately and gave him a wave. "Yo, hey Tyler! How's it going? Glad to see you're doing fine! Get over here!"
Man, another person already? Things were just looking up for them. It was almost like how it was at the beginning...but this time Brendon was not going to let his team get attacked or killed. That last time was a mistake...but there was no way he was going to let it happen again. This would be one time history wouldn't repeat itself.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Tythanin. 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.
-
Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Awwwwwwwwww Matt thought she was a General! Megan had never felt so important in her whole life. Being a General was tough work, harsh responsibility. It required balls, bravery, ideas, the power to tell people to get up off their asses and work. The ability to work through the death of your men in the blink of an eye.
Megan frowned slightly. It always came back to that didn't it? Stupid death. Infringing on Megan's happy space. How rude.
"Not a General, no. Lieutenant. I'm not nearly heroic enough to be a General. I also can't grow five o clock shadow, and everyone knows that real General's have, like, the best five o clock shadow. So nope, our heroman is Miiiiiiister Brendan over here. What with his testosterone that I don't have. God Brendan, why you gotta be hogging all the testosterone. Bitch."
...Wait. This might have been getting back to sex. Man, Megan was really preoccupied with this threesome thing wasn't she?
Luckily the conversation shifted itself back over to weapons, the one thing this game seemed to have deprived Megan of. Well weapons and ladies who didn't light themselves on fire. Megan was surrounded by dudes. "Man. Talk about a sausage fest."
Oh good sweet Lord she didn't just say that out loud did she?
A voice dragged her away from her own humiliation, and she realized that it had also grabbed Brendan's attention, so that probably averted the mini crisis in her brain. The voice belonged to none other than Tyler Blake, who as far as Megan was concerned was a pretty decent kid.
He also conveniently fit right into the "large and lovable tough guy" category on Team Bitchin. Which meant that this kid was in. No. Questions. Asked.
So Megan did what she did to all new Team Bitchin members. She hugged him. She was a very huggy person. Which wasn't bad, she supposed. There was probably more important things to be doing, but hey, what's a five second hug during one of the (probable) last days of your life in the grand scheme of things, really? If anything it was damn uplifting.
Hell yeah. That was Megan Jacobson: lifter of spirits and recruiter of heroes.
"Hi Tyler! Oh my god, it is literally so awesome that you stumbled upon us. Sometimes I think that fate is really on my side in this game! Well, if I believed in fate. And, like, minus the explodifying cheerleaders and mean soccer players who shoot at nice people for no reason. Yeah! Fate is totally on my side!"
The really sad part was that Megan didn't see how very, horridly flawed her logic was.
Or most likely, she didn't really give a shit.
She was in a happy place, god damnit! Nothing was taking it away from her. Not now. Not ever.
Happy Megan was cool. Happy Megan was here to stay.
Megan frowned slightly. It always came back to that didn't it? Stupid death. Infringing on Megan's happy space. How rude.
"Not a General, no. Lieutenant. I'm not nearly heroic enough to be a General. I also can't grow five o clock shadow, and everyone knows that real General's have, like, the best five o clock shadow. So nope, our heroman is Miiiiiiister Brendan over here. What with his testosterone that I don't have. God Brendan, why you gotta be hogging all the testosterone. Bitch."
...Wait. This might have been getting back to sex. Man, Megan was really preoccupied with this threesome thing wasn't she?
Luckily the conversation shifted itself back over to weapons, the one thing this game seemed to have deprived Megan of. Well weapons and ladies who didn't light themselves on fire. Megan was surrounded by dudes. "Man. Talk about a sausage fest."
Oh good sweet Lord she didn't just say that out loud did she?
A voice dragged her away from her own humiliation, and she realized that it had also grabbed Brendan's attention, so that probably averted the mini crisis in her brain. The voice belonged to none other than Tyler Blake, who as far as Megan was concerned was a pretty decent kid.
He also conveniently fit right into the "large and lovable tough guy" category on Team Bitchin. Which meant that this kid was in. No. Questions. Asked.
So Megan did what she did to all new Team Bitchin members. She hugged him. She was a very huggy person. Which wasn't bad, she supposed. There was probably more important things to be doing, but hey, what's a five second hug during one of the (probable) last days of your life in the grand scheme of things, really? If anything it was damn uplifting.
Hell yeah. That was Megan Jacobson: lifter of spirits and recruiter of heroes.
"Hi Tyler! Oh my god, it is literally so awesome that you stumbled upon us. Sometimes I think that fate is really on my side in this game! Well, if I believed in fate. And, like, minus the explodifying cheerleaders and mean soccer players who shoot at nice people for no reason. Yeah! Fate is totally on my side!"
The really sad part was that Megan didn't see how very, horridly flawed her logic was.
Or most likely, she didn't really give a shit.
She was in a happy place, god damnit! Nothing was taking it away from her. Not now. Not ever.
Happy Megan was cool. Happy Megan was here to stay.
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Matt almost forgot how weird Megan Jacobson was. Did she just say anything that came to her head? Cause...seemed a lot like that, didn't it?
So Team Bitchin (the name was still too weird for him), they had a plan now; get weapons, ride this thing 'till the end. Fuck, weapons, just his luck. It's always such fun when everyone except you and your mother get the good stuff.
Well...there was always just robbing someone and leaving them on their own, right? Sure, it was tough, and it didn't really seem like something Matt would do, but really, did any of them really have to stay strong, morally strong people?
The answer to that was neigh. Neeeeeeigh.
Oh, and look, someone else as well. Tyler Blake...whoever that was. Well, so much for knowing all his classmates, right? The name escaped him for a moment, so he just smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and...well, he wasn't that bad looking, really. You gotta go with what you have, and when there's only one other guy in the entire year who swings your way, then you just gotta use your imagination when it comes to what people want to be capable of.
...yes, he was fantasising about this guy. Surprised? You obviously don't know who Matt Payne is.
So yeah, didn't know how to really great someone whose name decided to enter a mind-blank, so he just stood back, hands in his pockets, and kinda smiled.
So Team Bitchin (the name was still too weird for him), they had a plan now; get weapons, ride this thing 'till the end. Fuck, weapons, just his luck. It's always such fun when everyone except you and your mother get the good stuff.
Well...there was always just robbing someone and leaving them on their own, right? Sure, it was tough, and it didn't really seem like something Matt would do, but really, did any of them really have to stay strong, morally strong people?
The answer to that was neigh. Neeeeeeigh.
Oh, and look, someone else as well. Tyler Blake...whoever that was. Well, so much for knowing all his classmates, right? The name escaped him for a moment, so he just smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and...well, he wasn't that bad looking, really. You gotta go with what you have, and when there's only one other guy in the entire year who swings your way, then you just gotta use your imagination when it comes to what people want to be capable of.
...yes, he was fantasising about this guy. Surprised? You obviously don't know who Matt Payne is.
So yeah, didn't know how to really great someone whose name decided to enter a mind-blank, so he just stood back, hands in his pockets, and kinda smiled.
Let's see here...
Who are the people?
Good people - well, that went without saying, really, but had to be reiterated given the situation.
Brendon Arrington. BA. Aspiring actor, big fan of the military, just like Tyler. Just the kind of guy Tyler could get to help spread the world.
Then there wa- okay hug. That was out of nowhere. Unexpected, but not terrible. Tyler felt his smile grow a little wider. Meg Jacobson. He had no idea why she was hugging him, but hell if he cared. Another actor, and the hug proved what Tyler's memory told him. Good kid.
Finally... Matt Payne, who Tyler was less enamoured by. Athletic guy, fair enough. A... little too liberated, sexually. Tyler couldn't particularly give a damn about Payne's sexuality, just the volume of it. Nobody could be that casual about sex without being... just a little unsavoury, in Tyler's opinion. Still, he was with two people that Tyler DID trust, so that outweighed any reservations he might have had about Payne.
Even if it did look a little like he was being sized up.
"Glad to see all of you. Glad that you're okay, actually," Tyler sighed. "Look... I'd love to stick around with you guys, so don't think that I'm just running off because I don't trust you or don't like you. It's nothing like that, okay? Thing is, I've got to spread the word to as many people as possible, and I move faster on my own. And hey, maybe you will too..." Tyler facepalmed, backtracked. "I didn't tell you what the word was, did I? Prize dummy I am. Okay listen, here's the thing..."
Since coming out with it on the spot to Bryant, Tyler had polished 'the plan' a little, even if there were no subsequent steps yet. He opened with confidence. "Look, the whole point of this thing is to get us to kill each other. Right?" He didn't wait for an answer, just raced on. "So what happens if we say no? What happens if we trust in Uncle Sam and the principles that this nation was founded on, the principles in this book-" Tyler held out his 'weapon' "And refuse to kill each other? Isn't that the point of all of this? What if we put loyalty to each other and America before our own lives? That's showing true selflessness. True duty. What then? They can hardly march in here and FORCE us to kill each other, can they? What'd be the point of just killing us off? It defeats the entire object. If we don't fight, we show that we care more about AMERICA than we care about ourselves... which is what The General has always wanted for us."
Tyler tailed off, gave a confident smile. "Spread the word, guys. I know people have died, but there's still time, there's still hope. We can do this."
And then he was gone.
((Tyler Blake continued in Captain America))
Who are the people?
Good people - well, that went without saying, really, but had to be reiterated given the situation.
Brendon Arrington. BA. Aspiring actor, big fan of the military, just like Tyler. Just the kind of guy Tyler could get to help spread the world.
Then there wa- okay hug. That was out of nowhere. Unexpected, but not terrible. Tyler felt his smile grow a little wider. Meg Jacobson. He had no idea why she was hugging him, but hell if he cared. Another actor, and the hug proved what Tyler's memory told him. Good kid.
Finally... Matt Payne, who Tyler was less enamoured by. Athletic guy, fair enough. A... little too liberated, sexually. Tyler couldn't particularly give a damn about Payne's sexuality, just the volume of it. Nobody could be that casual about sex without being... just a little unsavoury, in Tyler's opinion. Still, he was with two people that Tyler DID trust, so that outweighed any reservations he might have had about Payne.
Even if it did look a little like he was being sized up.
"Glad to see all of you. Glad that you're okay, actually," Tyler sighed. "Look... I'd love to stick around with you guys, so don't think that I'm just running off because I don't trust you or don't like you. It's nothing like that, okay? Thing is, I've got to spread the word to as many people as possible, and I move faster on my own. And hey, maybe you will too..." Tyler facepalmed, backtracked. "I didn't tell you what the word was, did I? Prize dummy I am. Okay listen, here's the thing..."
Since coming out with it on the spot to Bryant, Tyler had polished 'the plan' a little, even if there were no subsequent steps yet. He opened with confidence. "Look, the whole point of this thing is to get us to kill each other. Right?" He didn't wait for an answer, just raced on. "So what happens if we say no? What happens if we trust in Uncle Sam and the principles that this nation was founded on, the principles in this book-" Tyler held out his 'weapon' "And refuse to kill each other? Isn't that the point of all of this? What if we put loyalty to each other and America before our own lives? That's showing true selflessness. True duty. What then? They can hardly march in here and FORCE us to kill each other, can they? What'd be the point of just killing us off? It defeats the entire object. If we don't fight, we show that we care more about AMERICA than we care about ourselves... which is what The General has always wanted for us."
Tyler tailed off, gave a confident smile. "Spread the word, guys. I know people have died, but there's still time, there's still hope. We can do this."
And then he was gone.
((Tyler Blake continued in Captain America))