So many names he could have mentioned. Should have mentioned. Names that he had far greater history with, before the turmoil of the island. Names that had, outside of this traumatic week, had far more resonance in his life. Names of friends. Crushes. Study buddies. Debate partners. Writing friends. TV watching companions. He could have rattled off a dozen names, people whose memories he cherished or who had proven their loyalty on the island. Maybe he'd inadvertently say the second preference of one of his new companions, relieve the guilt of having excluded their worthy name from this act of remembrance.
God, Chuck wished he could list multiple names.
But no. The format had been set in stone at this point. To add additional names would just...complicate things. Screw with the format. Heighten the insult incurred by any omission. They'd all implicitly agreed upon the one name each format. Probably a wise economy. So Chuck nodded.
"For Lance."
His harebrained idea had been strangely motivating, truth be told. Plus, yeah, a good way of showing that there were no hard feelings over the eye cut thing.
"Cheers."
Gonna Miss Me By My Walk... Miss Me By My Talk, Oh
Between Day 5-6: Late Night.
-
General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
To the kid who said he didn't know if he had any friends: Adonis, it sure looks like you have some now, buddy.
Four of them raising their drinks up in the air to honor him along with three others. Lance, Everett, Simon. Kyran wasn't sure what the stories behind all three of them was, but each one, each name, person, friend, was clearly meaningful. Maybe he didn't 'hate that guy' in the end afterall. Weird how that all worked out.
Cheers they all repeated again.
"Yeah."
I'll drink to that.
Kyran clinked the glass bottle, feeling and hearing the strangely delightful clanking from the bottles and cups turned shot glasses of his team. The old beverage sizzled down his throat, not something he was used to, but not a bad feeling either. He held the bottle to his chest and sighed. Any second now it could have inexplicably shattered, bleeding him, inside out, as he lay on the ground in his final breaths and he wouldn't even know it. What a time, they'd had. Much of it had left him hollow. More than usual at least. It almost felt like he had wallowed into another deep resounding case of "Whatever".
Despite this constant worldview which Kyran Dean always found himself in, he still had purpose. The plan with these four. Not to mention his favorite: Save some effin' lives.
The beam of his own flashlight, a 'spotlight' so to speak shined upon Michael Crowe.
"What now Cap'n?"
Four of them raising their drinks up in the air to honor him along with three others. Lance, Everett, Simon. Kyran wasn't sure what the stories behind all three of them was, but each one, each name, person, friend, was clearly meaningful. Maybe he didn't 'hate that guy' in the end afterall. Weird how that all worked out.
Cheers they all repeated again.
"Yeah."
I'll drink to that.
Kyran clinked the glass bottle, feeling and hearing the strangely delightful clanking from the bottles and cups turned shot glasses of his team. The old beverage sizzled down his throat, not something he was used to, but not a bad feeling either. He held the bottle to his chest and sighed. Any second now it could have inexplicably shattered, bleeding him, inside out, as he lay on the ground in his final breaths and he wouldn't even know it. What a time, they'd had. Much of it had left him hollow. More than usual at least. It almost felt like he had wallowed into another deep resounding case of "Whatever".
Despite this constant worldview which Kyran Dean always found himself in, he still had purpose. The plan with these four. Not to mention his favorite: Save some effin' lives.
The beam of his own flashlight, a 'spotlight' so to speak shined upon Michael Crowe.
"What now Cap'n?"
Michael took his thumb and forefinger, using them to cover the slit along his mouth as he downed the glass. He knew it'd probably be rough going down, and he did not want to show his friends his involuntary impression of a water fountain if he ended up sputtering or gasping.
It definitely burned on the way down, even more so on the inner linings of his new mouth. "Fuck yeah." He spoke, as he took the glass and tossed it to the ground, shattering that shit. Michael looked to the door behind him, opening it up, and walking out. He came back in a moment later, carrying a bunch of tar covered toilet papers on sticks. He tossed one to each of the people in front of him.
"Alright, listen up. Those names you mentioned? Those people that deserved to be remembered?" Michael's arm reached into his bag, pulling out a box of matches. He pulled one match out, and slid it against his jacket, sparking it up. He brought the lit match to his torch, igniting it.
"Those souls are with you now, these fuckin' torches hold them in, right? They're holdin' everyone who died here. Now all we got is one last thing to do, and this dark starry night is the perfect time to do it. We're gonna go back to where we made those trails, and we're gonna light 'em up, so everyone here can see 'em. I want the night to look like the fuckin' day when we're done with this. I want everyone to see this."
Michael brought his torch up to the rest of the crew's, lighting each of them up.
"Listen, you're probably getting tired of me talking all the damn time, you guys want to see what this is gonna get us. Well, we get this shit done, I promise you there's gonna be some damn results; good ones too. All the hard work we put into this is gonna pay off, I promise you. We're gonna get everyone together, and we are gonna find a way off this fucking island because we're better than that to just stand around and kill each other!"
Michael pointed his torch to the open doorway.
"All we gotta do now is run back, and light that toilet paper up. That's it! That's all there is to it. We go back, and everyone, no matter where they're at on this island was gonna see it, and we'll regroup back here, or if not here, somewhere else. We're at the final stretch, and all we got to do now is finish this."
"So's all I gotta ask is this. Who's with me?! Ain't nobody else dying today, we got this, we can beat this! Who's ready to light this candle!?"
((Michael Crowe continued elsewhere.))
It definitely burned on the way down, even more so on the inner linings of his new mouth. "Fuck yeah." He spoke, as he took the glass and tossed it to the ground, shattering that shit. Michael looked to the door behind him, opening it up, and walking out. He came back in a moment later, carrying a bunch of tar covered toilet papers on sticks. He tossed one to each of the people in front of him.
"Alright, listen up. Those names you mentioned? Those people that deserved to be remembered?" Michael's arm reached into his bag, pulling out a box of matches. He pulled one match out, and slid it against his jacket, sparking it up. He brought the lit match to his torch, igniting it.
"Those souls are with you now, these fuckin' torches hold them in, right? They're holdin' everyone who died here. Now all we got is one last thing to do, and this dark starry night is the perfect time to do it. We're gonna go back to where we made those trails, and we're gonna light 'em up, so everyone here can see 'em. I want the night to look like the fuckin' day when we're done with this. I want everyone to see this."
Michael brought his torch up to the rest of the crew's, lighting each of them up.
"Listen, you're probably getting tired of me talking all the damn time, you guys want to see what this is gonna get us. Well, we get this shit done, I promise you there's gonna be some damn results; good ones too. All the hard work we put into this is gonna pay off, I promise you. We're gonna get everyone together, and we are gonna find a way off this fucking island because we're better than that to just stand around and kill each other!"
Michael pointed his torch to the open doorway.
"All we gotta do now is run back, and light that toilet paper up. That's it! That's all there is to it. We go back, and everyone, no matter where they're at on this island was gonna see it, and we'll regroup back here, or if not here, somewhere else. We're at the final stretch, and all we got to do now is finish this."
"So's all I gotta ask is this. Who's with me?! Ain't nobody else dying today, we got this, we can beat this! Who's ready to light this candle!?"
((Michael Crowe continued elsewhere.))
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
-
General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
Chuck nodded. For once, no joke. No clumsy reference. No silly asides. Just solemn acceptance of the task before them.
It was probably, from the standpoint of logic and outcome, futile. Chuck knew this. He kept it to himself. The others did too. Because, from the point of view of putting up a fight, of stressing out the terrorists a bit, of leaving some kind of legacy to make people proud, it was worth it.
So fucking worth it.
He grabbed his bag. Looked at everyone. Nodded to each in turn.
"Couldn't ask for a better team, guys. Love you all."
((Chuck Soileaux continued in Having Fun with It.))
It was probably, from the standpoint of logic and outcome, futile. Chuck knew this. He kept it to himself. The others did too. Because, from the point of view of putting up a fight, of stressing out the terrorists a bit, of leaving some kind of legacy to make people proud, it was worth it.
So fucking worth it.
He grabbed his bag. Looked at everyone. Nodded to each in turn.
"Couldn't ask for a better team, guys. Love you all."
((Chuck Soileaux continued in Having Fun with It.))
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 896
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
Scarlett was feeling so hopeful about what they were doing. They were going to make this work. They were not going to be beaten. They were going to make things right again.
She was getting ready to go when something crossed her mind. She had to tell the others just in case things had to be changed a little.
"Guys, if the parish gets turned into a dangerzone. We should meet up somewhere else. Let's say the lake. We can go there. Okay! Good luck, guys! Be careful."
((Scarlett McAfee continued elsewhere))
She was getting ready to go when something crossed her mind. She had to tell the others just in case things had to be changed a little.
"Guys, if the parish gets turned into a dangerzone. We should meet up somewhere else. Let's say the lake. We can go there. Okay! Good luck, guys! Be careful."
((Scarlett McAfee continued elsewhere))
Once more, the group dispersed and Kyran watched them all, go one after another, with a tiny smirk.
Michael would never cease to impress with the fire and spirit as he charged like a Greek torch bearer into the wilderness. Scarlett also had a good thought which he'd keep in mind just in case. Chuck, well he was uncharacteristic in his genuine, non-joking, non-sarcastic, words of affection, if that was even the right word for it.
The flashlight went off. The candlestick was picked off the floor, placed onto the table altar. The match struck with a lit flame, onto the torch. Itself, was placed by the thin edge onto the candlestick, lighting up the Parish interior.
Kyran looked at the cups, grabbing one and placing it on the table. He grabbed the other one and shook the remaining droplets of liquor free. He place it on the table as well, drumming his fingers through the finger-less gloves on the table surface for a second. His area to light was closest, so he still had a few minutes to spare.
Clap-clap. Tap-tap-tap. Clap-lift-tap.
Clap-lift. Tap-tap. Lift-clap-
".... I’m leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?"
-tap.
[[Kyran Dean Continued To: This is The Age That You Start Losing Friends.]]
Michael would never cease to impress with the fire and spirit as he charged like a Greek torch bearer into the wilderness. Scarlett also had a good thought which he'd keep in mind just in case. Chuck, well he was uncharacteristic in his genuine, non-joking, non-sarcastic, words of affection, if that was even the right word for it.
The flashlight went off. The candlestick was picked off the floor, placed onto the table altar. The match struck with a lit flame, onto the torch. Itself, was placed by the thin edge onto the candlestick, lighting up the Parish interior.
Kyran looked at the cups, grabbing one and placing it on the table. He grabbed the other one and shook the remaining droplets of liquor free. He place it on the table as well, drumming his fingers through the finger-less gloves on the table surface for a second. His area to light was closest, so he still had a few minutes to spare.
Clap-clap. Tap-tap-tap. Clap-lift-tap.
Clap-lift. Tap-tap. Lift-clap-
".... I’m leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?"
-tap.
[[Kyran Dean Continued To: This is The Age That You Start Losing Friends.]]