When it all came down to it, emotions were funny things. Some people expressed them vibrantly, their happiness or their sorrow radiating from them. To others, emotions were something to be suppressed, hidden unless in a safe space. There were no rules for how you had to govern your emotions, no rule book that said 'happiness is okay, but sadness should be kept in', or vice-versa. Everyone figured things out based on what worked for themselves and no one else.
Usually, the sounds of water and the waves splashing against boats, docks, or any kind of flotilla were the kind that elicited calmness and tranquility amongst the general populace. Emotions and feelings that were acceptable, that weren't overly showy.
Staring down into the bottom of the deep blue sea, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were quivering, a single drop of blood ran between the fingers of Kurt Thorne's left hand. There was no calmness, no tranquility to be found here.
Only pure, unadulterated rage.
((CK01: KURT THORNE - GAME START))
It was somewhere in the vicinity of twenty minutes that Kurt had stood after awakening, staring down into the ocean and doing his very best to calm himself down. Breathing exercises were crucial for controlling one's mind in a stressful situation, and he had more than lost count at the number of 'in through the nose, out through the mouth's that he'd practiced to try and find his control.
It had worked a little, anyways. His mind had come back to him fairly quickly, assessing his situation and taking stock of all of the information that he had at his disposal were the first things he checked off of the list. He knew where he was, he knew exactly what was expected of him. The breathing had worked, and worked well.
Yet still, his rage.
The slightly longer fingernail that had pierced his palm was starting to cause his palm to ache.
Survival of the Fittest was a blight on the popular culture of the twenty-first century — a point that he'd never had any problem saying out loud. Some of his classmates, mostly the ones he had no interest in socializing with — they loved it. Purported it to be the coolest thing around, followed it with a zeal that made his stomach turn. For every Stokely Keeper or Junji Yamada, there were two or three more nameless idiots that parroted what they heard on the Internet about it. To Kurt, SOTF was an affront to what should have passed as entertainment. So to find himself here, now a victim — and make no mistake, they were all victims — of it, it elicited but one reaction in him. Where he was sure that some of his other classmates might have been excited or even enthusiastic, for him?
That's right.
Fury.
The mentor he'd been assigned was not going to appreciate his particular opinions for this game, of that he could be certain. Claudia Ghoul was a hack, doing whatever she could to extend her own fifteen minutes of fame and he'd never cared for her music, even before she'd become an SOTF shill. The briefing, such as it was, had been heavy on theatrics and light on passable, useful information. No shock there. To do what he knew he had to, there was no question in his mind that she was going to be tits on a bull towards helping him achieve those goals.
Grunting, Kurt finally released his left hand and shook it free, watching some of his blood land in the water below him. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the droplets of blood expand in the water, and then fade away as the faint wind and the active water took them out of his view. Taking another breath, he finally shut his eyes and listened to the waves and the water around him.
Anger, fury and rage were fine emotions to experience and to express, but Kurt knew that if he were going to be successful, he was going to need to find a way to channel them into something more productive. He would need every ounce of self-control to stop himself from lashing out, expediting his own demise. He unclenched his right fist, shaking both hands out now. His left still ached from the new cut, but he ignored it. There would be far more pain before they were finished.
Of that, he was sure.
Opening his eyes, he exhaled and took a look around. The red haze that had bordered around his eyes for the last twenty minutes subsided a little, which was good. His wits had returned and while his heart still furiously thundered within his chest, he felt as though he'd unlocked most of his basic motor functions. There was a bag that he'd ignored upon waking; he knew he should look through it to see what tools were at his disposal. If there was anything he could put to use to work towards his ultimate goal, he needed to know.
Leaning down, he unzipped the bag and began to rifle through it.
And I Will Strike Down Upon Thee With Great Vengeance and Furious Anger Those Who Attempt to Destroy My Brothers
Open (content warning in post #2)
((BC10: JUNJI YAMADA, START))
How long had it been, since the day he started dreaming of becoming an SOTF-TV star? He’d been watching the show so long, his only outlet for all the frustrations that the shitty stupidity of day to day life and his good for nothing parents and the fuckwads at school left him with.
And finally, it had happened, just like he always knew he deserved. That morning, he’d been at home, waiting to have to leave for shitty school because what else was he going to do, when they’d arrived. He had been all to willing to go along with them (Though in reality, he had been stunned into complacency and hadn’t realised what was going on until ti was too late), and when the show started for real he had been oh-so-giddy. He’d been rock hard the whole time, and finally he had dealt with that.
He breathed a heavy sigh as he zipped up his fly, leaning back and staring up at the sky. His orange bandanna was wrapped around his head like Rambo, only he was far tougher than Rambo. The knife was tucked into the waist of his belt. It was small for someone was powerful as him, but the greatest TV stars started off with the least conventional weapons. All he had to go was gut someone, and grab an upgrade.
He laughed. Laughed long and happy. He vomited.
His eyes were wide, but he was still grinning ear to ear. His brain clicked and whirred as it tried to put things together. TV Good. Being on TV...Good? Violence, Good. Inflicting Violence...Good? Inflicting Violence, Win! Win win win!
He grabbed his bag, moved forwards while breathing heavily. Win. Have to win. Have to get ten kills, become a SOTF-TV superstar. Become famous. Go home. Get laid. Murder parents. Get laid here, even! Anything was possible SOTF-TV! Tune in, today!
More breathing. His brain was starting to un-stick. It had decided on its course of action, long before TV had really started. He just needed...time. Time to adjust. Time to make sense. Time to filet some people and upgrade. Time to find Stokes. Team up and tag team like they’d always dreamed. Like he’d always dreamed, he thought.
Shit, this was the best day of his life. It was. Shit.
He wouldn’t die. No way. He was Junji Fucking FUCKING YAMADA! He was MADE for TV! He’d watched every single segment so many times, he knew EXACTLY what not to do! And being a fucking pussy indecisive bitch was the first step to getting killed. The second step was being a fuck bitch who got their fucking fucks fucked.
He came across the glass bottomed boat, catching sight of Kurt's back stooped over, investigating his bag as Junji bent over low. Even then, he barely ducked under five feet. The jetty leading up to the boat creaked under his oblivious massive frame as he gripped the knife between his teeth. Like pirates of old, but not wearing faggy pantaloons, he’d sneak up behind this fucking loser and slit his throat. Kurt’s athleticism that would’ve made him think twice back home meant nothing here, because Junji had the upper hand.
First Blood!
How long had it been, since the day he started dreaming of becoming an SOTF-TV star? He’d been watching the show so long, his only outlet for all the frustrations that the shitty stupidity of day to day life and his good for nothing parents and the fuckwads at school left him with.
And finally, it had happened, just like he always knew he deserved. That morning, he’d been at home, waiting to have to leave for shitty school because what else was he going to do, when they’d arrived. He had been all to willing to go along with them (Though in reality, he had been stunned into complacency and hadn’t realised what was going on until ti was too late), and when the show started for real he had been oh-so-giddy. He’d been rock hard the whole time, and finally he had dealt with that.
He breathed a heavy sigh as he zipped up his fly, leaning back and staring up at the sky. His orange bandanna was wrapped around his head like Rambo, only he was far tougher than Rambo. The knife was tucked into the waist of his belt. It was small for someone was powerful as him, but the greatest TV stars started off with the least conventional weapons. All he had to go was gut someone, and grab an upgrade.
He laughed. Laughed long and happy. He vomited.
His eyes were wide, but he was still grinning ear to ear. His brain clicked and whirred as it tried to put things together. TV Good. Being on TV...Good? Violence, Good. Inflicting Violence...Good? Inflicting Violence, Win! Win win win!
He grabbed his bag, moved forwards while breathing heavily. Win. Have to win. Have to get ten kills, become a SOTF-TV superstar. Become famous. Go home. Get laid. Murder parents. Get laid here, even! Anything was possible SOTF-TV! Tune in, today!
More breathing. His brain was starting to un-stick. It had decided on its course of action, long before TV had really started. He just needed...time. Time to adjust. Time to make sense. Time to filet some people and upgrade. Time to find Stokes. Team up and tag team like they’d always dreamed. Like he’d always dreamed, he thought.
Shit, this was the best day of his life. It was. Shit.
He wouldn’t die. No way. He was Junji Fucking FUCKING YAMADA! He was MADE for TV! He’d watched every single segment so many times, he knew EXACTLY what not to do! And being a fucking pussy indecisive bitch was the first step to getting killed. The second step was being a fuck bitch who got their fucking fucks fucked.
He came across the glass bottomed boat, catching sight of Kurt's back stooped over, investigating his bag as Junji bent over low. Even then, he barely ducked under five feet. The jetty leading up to the boat creaked under his oblivious massive frame as he gripped the knife between his teeth. Like pirates of old, but not wearing faggy pantaloons, he’d sneak up behind this fucking loser and slit his throat. Kurt’s athleticism that would’ve made him think twice back home meant nothing here, because Junji had the upper hand.
First Blood!
-
Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
As he slipped the package of zip ties into his pocket, Kurt took only a second to lament that he wasn't assigned something more useful by the producers of this abhorrent enterprise. Zip ties had their uses; using them to jury-rig something together or to restrain any of his more unpleasant and violent classmates brought them solely away from any notion of being useless, but... Kurt had hoped for something that could have brought him closer to his ultimate goal.
It would be a cold day in hell before Kurt Thorne was going to die here. The indignity of that would piss him off so severely that he imagined himself coming back from the dead out of pure fury. As he zipped the pack back up, something creaked loudly behind him — something different than the moans and groans from the boats around him. There was another creak, and —
"Junji."
Standing up and turning in one swift motion, his eyes narrowed at one of the more unpleasant of his classmates who was stalking towards him, knife held in his mouth. Disgusting. There was a certain irony to the fact that he'd seemingly willed the boy into being by even bothering to acknowledge his existence earlier on. Unpleasant was a word that could be used to describe a few of his classmates — more than a few, honestly — but this particular specimen was both physically abhorrent as well as aggravating to be around for more than a few minutes. He smelled, he was grossly overweight, and he fancied himself an expert on SOTF.
In short, he was exactly the sort of person that Kurt had not wanted to run into.
The massive boy had been trying to sneak up on him, his intentions perfectly clear by the way that he stalked towards him. By the blade, it looked to be a filleting knife of sorts. Kurt had seen and caught enough fish to know that they were often sharp and could be lethal in the right hands. These were unquestionably the wrong hands, but Kurt's muscles tensed either way. Holding his pack in his right hand, he scowled.
"Is this — are you certain this is what you want to do?"
His voice was stern, he wasn't asking out of the goodness of his heart. Kurt was a nonviolent person at heart and despised everything that SOTF stood for, but if someone was going to come at him, he would defend himself.
One couldn't escape if they were dead.
It would be a cold day in hell before Kurt Thorne was going to die here. The indignity of that would piss him off so severely that he imagined himself coming back from the dead out of pure fury. As he zipped the pack back up, something creaked loudly behind him — something different than the moans and groans from the boats around him. There was another creak, and —
"Junji."
Standing up and turning in one swift motion, his eyes narrowed at one of the more unpleasant of his classmates who was stalking towards him, knife held in his mouth. Disgusting. There was a certain irony to the fact that he'd seemingly willed the boy into being by even bothering to acknowledge his existence earlier on. Unpleasant was a word that could be used to describe a few of his classmates — more than a few, honestly — but this particular specimen was both physically abhorrent as well as aggravating to be around for more than a few minutes. He smelled, he was grossly overweight, and he fancied himself an expert on SOTF.
In short, he was exactly the sort of person that Kurt had not wanted to run into.
The massive boy had been trying to sneak up on him, his intentions perfectly clear by the way that he stalked towards him. By the blade, it looked to be a filleting knife of sorts. Kurt had seen and caught enough fish to know that they were often sharp and could be lethal in the right hands. These were unquestionably the wrong hands, but Kurt's muscles tensed either way. Holding his pack in his right hand, he scowled.
"Is this — are you certain this is what you want to do?"
His voice was stern, he wasn't asking out of the goodness of his heart. Kurt was a nonviolent person at heart and despised everything that SOTF stood for, but if someone was going to come at him, he would defend himself.
One couldn't escape if they were dead.
-
Sunnybunny
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jun 30, 2020 4:13 am
A Capricorn and a Scorpio, poised for a fight.
A cuspy Taurus approaches them, bullish as ever.
((CK04: Cassini Evans signs on))
Neither a superfan or a detractor of SOTF-TV, she lived in the middle. It was entertainment. Not as fun as getting out there in the world yourself, not as brutal as watching someone you love lose their ability to be. People fighting for their lives, but at the same time it wasn't real life.
They'd become fiction.
Fucking crazy, right? Her pissivity was alive and well, even with her longing to explore this veritable playground of boats. It's why she hadn't contacted her "mentor" yet, practicality aside Claudia Ghoul was still just a obsessed fangirl who could sing some. A gore hound. Being too into the show made you...
Hell, just look at Junji's big musty ass trying to creep. Cassini didn't hate him as gross as he was, because talking mad shit to someone who'd give it back felt stupidly satisfying. But yeah, he looked ridiculous trying to run up on Kurt's American Gladiatorness. Yes, even with a knife. Maybe especially then.
"Of course he wants to do it. Now, if he's still about it knowing I'm gonna chunk something nasty at his face after's the real wonder."
The red and black bandana she was using to hold her hair in a side ponytail didn't match all the yellow she'd been abducted in at all, but that didn't bother her much. It gave her an excuse to march up and declare her intentions. Fuck with her, you know she got it and all that.
A cuspy Taurus approaches them, bullish as ever.
((CK04: Cassini Evans signs on))
Neither a superfan or a detractor of SOTF-TV, she lived in the middle. It was entertainment. Not as fun as getting out there in the world yourself, not as brutal as watching someone you love lose their ability to be. People fighting for their lives, but at the same time it wasn't real life.
They'd become fiction.
Fucking crazy, right? Her pissivity was alive and well, even with her longing to explore this veritable playground of boats. It's why she hadn't contacted her "mentor" yet, practicality aside Claudia Ghoul was still just a obsessed fangirl who could sing some. A gore hound. Being too into the show made you...
Hell, just look at Junji's big musty ass trying to creep. Cassini didn't hate him as gross as he was, because talking mad shit to someone who'd give it back felt stupidly satisfying. But yeah, he looked ridiculous trying to run up on Kurt's American Gladiatorness. Yes, even with a knife. Maybe especially then.
"Of course he wants to do it. Now, if he's still about it knowing I'm gonna chunk something nasty at his face after's the real wonder."
The red and black bandana she was using to hold her hair in a side ponytail didn't match all the yellow she'd been abducted in at all, but that didn't bother her much. It gave her an excuse to march up and declare her intentions. Fuck with her, you know she got it and all that.
Junji smirked, pulling the knife out from between his lips and lowering it, but making no obvious moves to disarm himself. His heart still pumped furiously as his hands shook from the adrenaline running through his body, the taste of bile lingering on his smiling lips. He had to stop himself from just rushing forward and gutting Kurt there and then.
As much as Junji was going to win win win, he had to be careful around people like Kurt. Kurt was a jock prick, the sort of fuck who ran and sweated for fourteen hours a day in a futile attempt to become more sexually appealing to sluts with pom poms for brains. The sort of fuck who, through that exercise, could actually knock Junji on his ass in a fair fight. Junji wasn’t afraid of him, but he didn’t need to get his ass kicked for no reason.
But that didn’t matter, because Junji had a knife!
“My ba-” he started, ready to play it smart and lower Kurt into a false sense of security, when he was interrupted by a voice from behind. So tensed up he was, he spun on his wide foot and pointed the knife straight at Cassini. When he realised he was pointing the knife a foot too high, he relaxed just a little bit, though he was still shaking.
A shrill little bitch who barely fit into the school uniform. So shrill, in fact, that she had given him lip before they’d even started speaking properly. Had he ever spoken to Cassini before? He couldn’t remember, he spoke to so many fucking bitches every day. Or rather, they spoke insults at him, as if it was the easiest thing in the fucking world and there were no consequences for it.
But this was the thing, wasn’t it?
“Heh, heh…” he chuckled, adjusting his glasses, and more or less forgetting about Kurt. “Cassini, nice to see you.” he grinned, flicking the knife in his hand back and forth. “You know, you’ve got a real fucking smart mouth for such a tiny bitch. What’s stopping me-” he asked, giving her a glint that would’ve never existed in a land of authority “-from just stabbing you and throwing you overboard?”
He walked towards her, quickly.
As much as Junji was going to win win win, he had to be careful around people like Kurt. Kurt was a jock prick, the sort of fuck who ran and sweated for fourteen hours a day in a futile attempt to become more sexually appealing to sluts with pom poms for brains. The sort of fuck who, through that exercise, could actually knock Junji on his ass in a fair fight. Junji wasn’t afraid of him, but he didn’t need to get his ass kicked for no reason.
But that didn’t matter, because Junji had a knife!
“My ba-” he started, ready to play it smart and lower Kurt into a false sense of security, when he was interrupted by a voice from behind. So tensed up he was, he spun on his wide foot and pointed the knife straight at Cassini. When he realised he was pointing the knife a foot too high, he relaxed just a little bit, though he was still shaking.
A shrill little bitch who barely fit into the school uniform. So shrill, in fact, that she had given him lip before they’d even started speaking properly. Had he ever spoken to Cassini before? He couldn’t remember, he spoke to so many fucking bitches every day. Or rather, they spoke insults at him, as if it was the easiest thing in the fucking world and there were no consequences for it.
But this was the thing, wasn’t it?
“Heh, heh…” he chuckled, adjusting his glasses, and more or less forgetting about Kurt. “Cassini, nice to see you.” he grinned, flicking the knife in his hand back and forth. “You know, you’ve got a real fucking smart mouth for such a tiny bitch. What’s stopping me-” he asked, giving her a glint that would’ve never existed in a land of authority “-from just stabbing you and throwing you overboard?”
He walked towards her, quickly.
-
Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Kurt Thorne really didn't like Junji Yamada.
There were a lot of his classmates that he barely tolerated, but Junji was one of the few that he actively kept his distance from. He could count the number of times they'd interacted on one hand, most of his disdain cultivated through word of mouth and watching the disgusting way that he carried himself through the world. So when he'd looked up to see the large spectre sulking his way towards him — utterly failing at stealth — his guard had gone up. There was going to be a fight, and the only weapons Kurt had at his disposal were his feet, his fists, and his wits.
That suited him just fine.
What had surprised him was the appearance of another classmate — someone again, he hadn't exactly had an array of conversations with, but someone whose name he knew at least. Cassini was younger and looked it, her stature and slight frame betraying her loud and bombastic nature. She was someone whose voice was more easily found in a room before she was. In short, perhaps the perfect foil to someone like Junji. Cassini would verbally spar with him, she was the type to call him out and try to strike him down with her words. It was exactly the sort of person that Junji would try and focus upon first.
Which he did.
As the boy turned to face her, Kurt saw the telltale flash of red in her hair, the exact same red that he'd pulled out of his pack and quickly tied around his ankle once he'd awoken. SOTF's rules were preposterous, but that they were placed into easily identifiable teams gave him an advantage — there were people that he could trust. That was something that didn't come easily to him on a normal day, his teammates notwithstanding, but at this most desperate time, he'd take it. If Cassini was on his team, he would trust her — or at least learn how.
Junji had said something, but it was not that which caught his attention, it was the step towards her that was unmistakable. His rotund classmate wasn't about to fight using his words; not today.
That was fine, Kurt wasn't much for words — they just got in the way.
He needed to act now, before things escalated and they were in any more danger. The menacing step towards Cassini gave him the advantage of space; momentarily forgotten, Kurt had the opportunity to act and he wasn't going to waste it. Letting his pack fall to the ground from his left hand, he took a step backwards on his own, narrowed his eyes, and took a split-second to assess. By his count, there was an easy way to diffuse this situation. The jetty wasn't overly wide nor thick; it had creaked and groaned under Junji's weight, so he knew that he would have to be very careful how he distributed his weight. He would also need to be quick.
So he was.
Before Junji could take one more step, Kurt was taking his own. Wordlessly, he stepped quickly forward with his left leg and shot himself upwards, aiming a powerful kick squarely at Junji's right shoulder.
There were a lot of his classmates that he barely tolerated, but Junji was one of the few that he actively kept his distance from. He could count the number of times they'd interacted on one hand, most of his disdain cultivated through word of mouth and watching the disgusting way that he carried himself through the world. So when he'd looked up to see the large spectre sulking his way towards him — utterly failing at stealth — his guard had gone up. There was going to be a fight, and the only weapons Kurt had at his disposal were his feet, his fists, and his wits.
That suited him just fine.
What had surprised him was the appearance of another classmate — someone again, he hadn't exactly had an array of conversations with, but someone whose name he knew at least. Cassini was younger and looked it, her stature and slight frame betraying her loud and bombastic nature. She was someone whose voice was more easily found in a room before she was. In short, perhaps the perfect foil to someone like Junji. Cassini would verbally spar with him, she was the type to call him out and try to strike him down with her words. It was exactly the sort of person that Junji would try and focus upon first.
Which he did.
As the boy turned to face her, Kurt saw the telltale flash of red in her hair, the exact same red that he'd pulled out of his pack and quickly tied around his ankle once he'd awoken. SOTF's rules were preposterous, but that they were placed into easily identifiable teams gave him an advantage — there were people that he could trust. That was something that didn't come easily to him on a normal day, his teammates notwithstanding, but at this most desperate time, he'd take it. If Cassini was on his team, he would trust her — or at least learn how.
Junji had said something, but it was not that which caught his attention, it was the step towards her that was unmistakable. His rotund classmate wasn't about to fight using his words; not today.
That was fine, Kurt wasn't much for words — they just got in the way.
He needed to act now, before things escalated and they were in any more danger. The menacing step towards Cassini gave him the advantage of space; momentarily forgotten, Kurt had the opportunity to act and he wasn't going to waste it. Letting his pack fall to the ground from his left hand, he took a step backwards on his own, narrowed his eyes, and took a split-second to assess. By his count, there was an easy way to diffuse this situation. The jetty wasn't overly wide nor thick; it had creaked and groaned under Junji's weight, so he knew that he would have to be very careful how he distributed his weight. He would also need to be quick.
So he was.
Before Junji could take one more step, Kurt was taking his own. Wordlessly, he stepped quickly forward with his left leg and shot himself upwards, aiming a powerful kick squarely at Junji's right shoulder.
-
Sunnybunny
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jun 30, 2020 4:13 am
"Good to see you too. How's tricks?"
That knife would hurt.
It really would, and this was too dangerous and this was-
"Nothing stopping you, really." Thoughtful, not contrite, Junji moved closer and she held the little ground she had. "But I think you bark better than you'll hunt, so I'll risk it."
The easiest thing in the fucking world.
Where threats of violence made Cassini still, the sudden action startled her and she ducked away, the momentum
of her bag slinging her body towards the other side of the boat.
Tiny. Right.
Kurt seemed to have her back enough, or at least had it in for their classmate. Didn't seem like he'd brought a gun to the knife fight, though.
That knife would hurt.
It really would, and this was too dangerous and this was-
"Nothing stopping you, really." Thoughtful, not contrite, Junji moved closer and she held the little ground she had. "But I think you bark better than you'll hunt, so I'll risk it."
The easiest thing in the fucking world.
Where threats of violence made Cassini still, the sudden action startled her and she ducked away, the momentum
of her bag slinging her body towards the other side of the boat.
Tiny. Right.
Kurt seemed to have her back enough, or at least had it in for their classmate. Didn't seem like he'd brought a gun to the knife fight, though.
Cassini was challenging him. Good. He’d make her eat those words. Not so easy to run your mouth when you had a knife in your gut.
The sound of Kurt springing forwards brought him out of that thought. Not soon enough to dodge the blow, but turning back caught the foot against his upper arm, rather than his back. He staggered back from the shock as pain radiated through the area, stepping out onto the jetty leading onto the boat, as Cassini ducked to the side during the commotion. He managed to hold his footing and his weapon, despite it all.
He swung his knife in Kurt’s direction, slicing only through air. The smirk had faltered as he faced them both. There was an open path leading away from the boat behind him, he realised. It didn’t matter right now.
“Easy now, don’t want to get your pretty face cut, do you?” he threatened, pointing the knife between both of his classmates. He didn’t like how this situation was going: Cassini was already supposed to be begging for life and apologising for acting so cocky. Kurt was ruining everything.
He looked between the two, spotting the shared red between them. Realisation kicked in.
“Looks like I’m up against a pair of teammates. Doesn’t seem very fair, ganging up on me. If you’ve got any balls, Kurt, you should fight me by yourself.”
He continued pointing the knife very directly at them, but at Kurt just a little bit more.
The sound of Kurt springing forwards brought him out of that thought. Not soon enough to dodge the blow, but turning back caught the foot against his upper arm, rather than his back. He staggered back from the shock as pain radiated through the area, stepping out onto the jetty leading onto the boat, as Cassini ducked to the side during the commotion. He managed to hold his footing and his weapon, despite it all.
He swung his knife in Kurt’s direction, slicing only through air. The smirk had faltered as he faced them both. There was an open path leading away from the boat behind him, he realised. It didn’t matter right now.
“Easy now, don’t want to get your pretty face cut, do you?” he threatened, pointing the knife between both of his classmates. He didn’t like how this situation was going: Cassini was already supposed to be begging for life and apologising for acting so cocky. Kurt was ruining everything.
He looked between the two, spotting the shared red between them. Realisation kicked in.
“Looks like I’m up against a pair of teammates. Doesn’t seem very fair, ganging up on me. If you’ve got any balls, Kurt, you should fight me by yourself.”
He continued pointing the knife very directly at them, but at Kurt just a little bit more.
-
Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
"Shut up," Kurt growled as he backed up, keeping the knife an arm's length from his own body. He'd managed to land a glancing blow on the rotund attacker. While his bluster and his overconfidence came from a place that Kurt couldn't fathom, he knew that truly, the man who brought a knife to a fist-fight had the upper hand, no matter what. He would need to be wary.
Instead of charging in as a response to Junji's taunt, Kurt glanced at Cassini, who was doing enough talking for the both of them. Some of his more testosterone-ruled classmates might have charged in, but that wasn't his style. She was keeping her distance from the flailing attacker; though he was currently fixated on Kurt.
That was good. That would help. Junji stood between them and an exit, a veritable knife-lunging wall blocking them from making an exit. Realistically, all he'd need to do would be to wait for the boy to make a mistake and kick the knife out of his hand. That was the smartest option, though it involved him taking the defensive. With how many circumstances were out of his control at the moment, one wrong move could mean suffering an unpleasant wound; the knife looked sharp.
There was however, one other option.
Looking past Junji, Kurt made quick eye contact with Cassini and then shot a meaningful glance at the water. His eyes then returned to their shambling classmate, taking a step back as another swipe of the knife didn't come anywhere close to hitting him. It was often said that the best defence was a good offence; so Kurt decided to make his move. Waiting until Junji took another step, Kurt hopped to his left and sprang quickly back to his right, aiming another kick towards Junji's knee.
Instead of charging in as a response to Junji's taunt, Kurt glanced at Cassini, who was doing enough talking for the both of them. Some of his more testosterone-ruled classmates might have charged in, but that wasn't his style. She was keeping her distance from the flailing attacker; though he was currently fixated on Kurt.
That was good. That would help. Junji stood between them and an exit, a veritable knife-lunging wall blocking them from making an exit. Realistically, all he'd need to do would be to wait for the boy to make a mistake and kick the knife out of his hand. That was the smartest option, though it involved him taking the defensive. With how many circumstances were out of his control at the moment, one wrong move could mean suffering an unpleasant wound; the knife looked sharp.
There was however, one other option.
Looking past Junji, Kurt made quick eye contact with Cassini and then shot a meaningful glance at the water. His eyes then returned to their shambling classmate, taking a step back as another swipe of the knife didn't come anywhere close to hitting him. It was often said that the best defence was a good offence; so Kurt decided to make his move. Waiting until Junji took another step, Kurt hopped to his left and sprang quickly back to his right, aiming another kick towards Junji's knee.
-
Sunnybunny
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jun 30, 2020 4:13 am
She snorted at the prospect of fairness.
Not just here. SOTF TV was unfair by design, but it wasn't even on the list of things that would make Cassini complain about it. Woe unto Junji, a guy with a knife on his favorite show. Let her rend her clothes in twain at this injustice.
Cassini's eyes met Kurt's, and she was pretty sure she got his picture. Into the drink, but how?
That was the thing, wasn't it?
"Oh please."
She stood up and moved a few steps closer to her classmates, looking for an opening, She wouldn't mind diving into the fray, really venting, but that wasn't very wise. There would be a moment, if she waited.
Not just here. SOTF TV was unfair by design, but it wasn't even on the list of things that would make Cassini complain about it. Woe unto Junji, a guy with a knife on his favorite show. Let her rend her clothes in twain at this injustice.
Cassini's eyes met Kurt's, and she was pretty sure she got his picture. Into the drink, but how?
That was the thing, wasn't it?
"Oh please."
She stood up and moved a few steps closer to her classmates, looking for an opening, She wouldn't mind diving into the fray, really venting, but that wasn't very wise. There would be a moment, if she waited.
Junji had his eyes on Kurt, and the static of the situation hung in the air. It crackled as Kurt launched his attack, energising Junji into motion.
Not fast enough. His huge frame couldn’t keep up with Kurt’s light footwork, and though he was able to avoid a direct blow to the knee, he still took a nasty punt to the shin as he tried to get in the first strike. The pain made him stagger backwards yet again. He wanted to bend down and rub it, but he knew he couldn't. It stung further in response.
Fucking Kurt! Jock prick pompom fucker could only move so fast because that’s all he did with his life. Take him out of the ball court or wait until he was over 21 and his life would be worth fuck all.
Junji’s smirk fell away completely as he realised he wasn’t getting an easy win here. He knew he would still win, because he had the knife and they had fuck all, and because he was the best player here, but he didn’t see it happening by just trying to move faster than Kurt. His sports crap gave him an advantage that Junji would have to work around.
“Getting real pissed off being kicked by you, Kurt.” he muttered, giving Kurt a nasty look that lacked the cockiness from earlier. It wasn’t fun when he was having to work this hard so fast. He thought it would’ve all just come to him naturally. He’d watched every episode of SOTF-TV, for fucks sake.
His feet started moving backwards. Something in him wanted to retreat, rethink his approach. It pissed him off. He just needed to get one good stab in Kurt’s face, and Cass would be a walk in the knife park afterwards. He wasn’t going to puss out this fast. He just had to be smarter than Kurt.
He continued pointing his knife at Kurt, though he didn’t make a move. “Try that again, and this goes up your ass.” All he would have to do is move his arm forwards if Kurt got too close, and he’d be fucked. That’s all it would take, he thought, as his face started to contort into an ugly snarl.
Not fast enough. His huge frame couldn’t keep up with Kurt’s light footwork, and though he was able to avoid a direct blow to the knee, he still took a nasty punt to the shin as he tried to get in the first strike. The pain made him stagger backwards yet again. He wanted to bend down and rub it, but he knew he couldn't. It stung further in response.
Fucking Kurt! Jock prick pompom fucker could only move so fast because that’s all he did with his life. Take him out of the ball court or wait until he was over 21 and his life would be worth fuck all.
Junji’s smirk fell away completely as he realised he wasn’t getting an easy win here. He knew he would still win, because he had the knife and they had fuck all, and because he was the best player here, but he didn’t see it happening by just trying to move faster than Kurt. His sports crap gave him an advantage that Junji would have to work around.
“Getting real pissed off being kicked by you, Kurt.” he muttered, giving Kurt a nasty look that lacked the cockiness from earlier. It wasn’t fun when he was having to work this hard so fast. He thought it would’ve all just come to him naturally. He’d watched every episode of SOTF-TV, for fucks sake.
His feet started moving backwards. Something in him wanted to retreat, rethink his approach. It pissed him off. He just needed to get one good stab in Kurt’s face, and Cass would be a walk in the knife park afterwards. He wasn’t going to puss out this fast. He just had to be smarter than Kurt.
He continued pointing his knife at Kurt, though he didn’t make a move. “Try that again, and this goes up your ass.” All he would have to do is move his arm forwards if Kurt got too close, and he’d be fucked. That’s all it would take, he thought, as his face started to contort into an ugly snarl.
-
Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
The only thing Kurt managed to do was kick Junji in the shins and based upon the garbage that he was spewing out of his mouth, the boy wasn't about to back off anytime soon. He'd likely have a few new bruises, but the knife still remained ready to stab him or Cassini the second he let his guard down.
That wasn't about to happen anytime soon.
"Or you could fuck off," he phrased bluntly in response. Junji was a talker, Cassini was a talker; everyone wanted to just sit around and talk, quipping witticisms for the cameras as they did their business of trying to survive and become the next television star. Disgusting. If SOTF wanted a sound-bite from him, it too could fuck off.
Unfortunately, he knew that Junji wasn't going to do the logical thing and retreat from the confrontation. That wasn't the Junji way, now that he was holding a dangerous weapon. This situation was the epitome of overconfidence on his girthy classmate's part, and that too annoyed Kurt to the point of anger. Thankfully, as frustrated as he was over just bloody everything, he still had his wits about him. Stepping back out of Junji's knife-range, he squinted as his eyes took in the jetty. He would have thought that a few kicks would have been enough to send the uncoordinated boy tumbling down, but he had an impressive sense of balance.
Taking a step to his right, Kurt took a split-second glance down. He was closer to the edge of the jetty platform than he would have cared for, but if he were charged at, it would be relatively easy for him to move out of the way and let gravity take care of the rest. Another kick was an option, but he didn't want to risk the other boy being smart to it.
Biting his lip, he opened his mouth. His voice was a grumble, no bluster and all business. "Take a walk, Junji. You don't want this."
The problem was, he probably did.
That wasn't about to happen anytime soon.
"Or you could fuck off," he phrased bluntly in response. Junji was a talker, Cassini was a talker; everyone wanted to just sit around and talk, quipping witticisms for the cameras as they did their business of trying to survive and become the next television star. Disgusting. If SOTF wanted a sound-bite from him, it too could fuck off.
Unfortunately, he knew that Junji wasn't going to do the logical thing and retreat from the confrontation. That wasn't the Junji way, now that he was holding a dangerous weapon. This situation was the epitome of overconfidence on his girthy classmate's part, and that too annoyed Kurt to the point of anger. Thankfully, as frustrated as he was over just bloody everything, he still had his wits about him. Stepping back out of Junji's knife-range, he squinted as his eyes took in the jetty. He would have thought that a few kicks would have been enough to send the uncoordinated boy tumbling down, but he had an impressive sense of balance.
Taking a step to his right, Kurt took a split-second glance down. He was closer to the edge of the jetty platform than he would have cared for, but if he were charged at, it would be relatively easy for him to move out of the way and let gravity take care of the rest. Another kick was an option, but he didn't want to risk the other boy being smart to it.
Biting his lip, he opened his mouth. His voice was a grumble, no bluster and all business. "Take a walk, Junji. You don't want this."
The problem was, he probably did.
-
Sunnybunny
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Tue Jun 30, 2020 4:13 am
It didn't seem like Junji was going to go down easily, or without a fight.
As good as it felt to release the valve of tension, it wasn't the best thing. The ideal in this situation would be to asses each other, and the land. Well, the sea. The boats... ah fuck, he just wasn't going to to quit! Junji was like a dog with a bone, and unfortunately they were caught between his teeth. He was a nasty alligator, wasn't gonna eat 'em but that didn't make it any safer in the 'Glades.
Glancing down, she saw the water underneath the boat, familiar even as it was strange. It was a killer view, if she was Beau it'd be thumbnail material guaranteed, title:
10 Of The Biggest Things That Excite Me About Dying Horribly Minutes After SOTF-TV STARTS!!! NOT CLICKBAIT!
He wasn't made for this, but it wasn't The problem just now even if it was bound to make her upset later. Kurt was her troopmate now, and for the moment that was her priority. It did not matter that letting him get gutted would distract Junji enough to let her slip by unnoticed. It wasn't happening here, now. Letting them keep poking at each other wasn't the play, you only had to be right with a sharp object once.
Cassini started to move, quick quiet steps going faster, trying to get in the best position to swing her bag at their opponent's kneecaps. The question wasn't so much if she could reach them, despite any cracks to the contrary but...
It felt so natural to her, the way her shoes made her glide on the glass. The fear left. When she made her move-
Her eyes slid shut for a moment.
The momentum carried her where it would. Just how she wanted. Behind Junji.
In range.
As good as it felt to release the valve of tension, it wasn't the best thing. The ideal in this situation would be to asses each other, and the land. Well, the sea. The boats... ah fuck, he just wasn't going to to quit! Junji was like a dog with a bone, and unfortunately they were caught between his teeth. He was a nasty alligator, wasn't gonna eat 'em but that didn't make it any safer in the 'Glades.
Glancing down, she saw the water underneath the boat, familiar even as it was strange. It was a killer view, if she was Beau it'd be thumbnail material guaranteed, title:
10 Of The Biggest Things That Excite Me About Dying Horribly Minutes After SOTF-TV STARTS!!! NOT CLICKBAIT!
He wasn't made for this, but it wasn't The problem just now even if it was bound to make her upset later. Kurt was her troopmate now, and for the moment that was her priority. It did not matter that letting him get gutted would distract Junji enough to let her slip by unnoticed. It wasn't happening here, now. Letting them keep poking at each other wasn't the play, you only had to be right with a sharp object once.
Cassini started to move, quick quiet steps going faster, trying to get in the best position to swing her bag at their opponent's kneecaps. The question wasn't so much if she could reach them, despite any cracks to the contrary but...
It felt so natural to her, the way her shoes made her glide on the glass. The fear left. When she made her move-
Her eyes slid shut for a moment.
The momentum carried her where it would. Just how she wanted. Behind Junji.
In range.
“Oh I want to see you die like a bitch!”
Junji stared Kurt down, knife very hungry for blood poised in his hand. He could feel his heart pumping in his chest as they both waited for the other to try another move. He ground his teeth as the suspense bore into him, his blade very quietly quivering in his hand. He could feel the aching in his arm and his shin. He just needed one good stab, and it would be over.
A flash of movement.
It wasn’t Kurt, Kurt was still still. No, it was Cass!
Junji roared, swinging his whole body around. The knife tore around him, its sharp edge cutting in a streak of steel without mercy. Like Cass, he too moved with the momentum, his graceless body putting full force into the spin.
He stumbled.
Junji stared Kurt down, knife very hungry for blood poised in his hand. He could feel his heart pumping in his chest as they both waited for the other to try another move. He ground his teeth as the suspense bore into him, his blade very quietly quivering in his hand. He could feel the aching in his arm and his shin. He just needed one good stab, and it would be over.
A flash of movement.
It wasn’t Kurt, Kurt was still still. No, it was Cass!
Junji roared, swinging his whole body around. The knife tore around him, its sharp edge cutting in a streak of steel without mercy. Like Cass, he too moved with the momentum, his graceless body putting full force into the spin.
He stumbled.
-
Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
In another situation or circumstance, Kurt would have rolled his eyes at Junji's clumsy verbal attack. He knew that Survival of the Fittest rewarded bluster and outrageousness. Some of his more outrageous classmates were liable to try and give the people what they wanted in the name of entertainment value. That was obviously the tack that Junji had taken.
Kurt had literally no interest in entertaining anyone.
Instead, before he had a chance to gauge another attack, Cassini made her move and joined the fray. Suddenly having two people to contend with, their rotund attacker made a slash at the newcomer to the party. It was an impulsive move, one that left his back squarely aimed in Kurt's direction. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth — or the ass, as it were — he stepped forward and slammed into Junji's back with his shoulder. It would have been an illegal move on the soccer pitch; though any of his teammates on the football team would have cheered him for such a maneuver.
Yet that didn't matter; none of it did. This wasn't a sport; this was a battle to survive.
Kurt had literally no interest in entertaining anyone.
Instead, before he had a chance to gauge another attack, Cassini made her move and joined the fray. Suddenly having two people to contend with, their rotund attacker made a slash at the newcomer to the party. It was an impulsive move, one that left his back squarely aimed in Kurt's direction. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth — or the ass, as it were — he stepped forward and slammed into Junji's back with his shoulder. It would have been an illegal move on the soccer pitch; though any of his teammates on the football team would have cheered him for such a maneuver.
Yet that didn't matter; none of it did. This wasn't a sport; this was a battle to survive.