(( Zachariah Johnston continued from Shelter By The Lakeside ))
Zach leaned against the wall of the hotel, sliding down it.
He was a failiure. He couldnt even follow a pair of fucking teens, who werent exactly quiet or in any way hiding. He'd just allowed himself to fall behind, to lose sight of them, to end up here. He was so fucking stupid.
He had wasted what felt like half a day, just stalking them, and for what? A bunch of aching muscles, some sore feet and no fucking chances to do anything.
He had failed. Failed in every respect. Nothing ever worked for him. Never had, never would.
He waited for a moment, closing his eyes, catching his breath. He didnt know what he was waiting for. Didnt care. He just wanted to, needed to rest. His eyes, his mind.
Everything was getting to him.
Maybe if he closed his eyes, when he opened them, he wouldn't be here. Maybe he'd be off this island? It could all just be a nightmare.
Then, he opened them, and he wasn't home. That was what he had expected.
What he hadnt expected, was not being alone. A figure, too far away to make out, walking out of the heat haze.
He stood up, his hand resting on the top of his sword. Relaxed. He didnt want to scare whoever it was off, but if he was going to fight, he'd be ready. He couldnt have a gun, or he'd be dead already. Theres a comforting thought.
Drowning in a Glass Half Empty
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Frozen Smoke
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(Sean Davidson continued from Penultimate Questions)
The walk across the island had taken much longer than Sean had expected...much, much longer in fact. It had just been a long, hard slog as everything caught up with him and as a bit of the gravity of what had been happening (to say nothing of what was to transpire if all went as he hoped it would) sunk in. But Sean had made his way most of the way across the island in various directions, and now he caught sight of his quarry.
Zach. There you are.
Raising his hands to indicate that he didn't mean to attach Zach, Sean took a deep breath.
"Hey, Zach."
What do I say now? How are you doing? How's Mae? Kill anyone lately?
All of the options that came to mind sucked, so Sean settled on a moment of rather awkward silence as he drew a bit closer before stopping about ten feet from the other boy and slowly lowering his bag to the ground.
"I...uh...come in peace?"
...take me to your leader? Good grief, that sounds bad. Who writes this junk?
Oh. Right. I came up with that.
If Zach wanted to off him outright, Sean knew he made a lovely target: Pockets or not, the show-issued suit made it pretty clear that he wasn't hiding any weapons there...and his bag wasn't in a good drawing position, either. In essence, he was completely helpless, and if Zach really wanted to he could simply spear Sean right now and maybe make a Sean-ka-bob or something like that. While that might have made things easier in some ways, though, Sean took a wild guess that Zach wasn't inclined towards that particular course of action just now since he didn't start out by swinging the sword at his head, and every second the other boy didn't lunge reinforced that perception: He had some room to talk if Zach was willing to listen.
The walk across the island had taken much longer than Sean had expected...much, much longer in fact. It had just been a long, hard slog as everything caught up with him and as a bit of the gravity of what had been happening (to say nothing of what was to transpire if all went as he hoped it would) sunk in. But Sean had made his way most of the way across the island in various directions, and now he caught sight of his quarry.
Zach. There you are.
Raising his hands to indicate that he didn't mean to attach Zach, Sean took a deep breath.
"Hey, Zach."
What do I say now? How are you doing? How's Mae? Kill anyone lately?
All of the options that came to mind sucked, so Sean settled on a moment of rather awkward silence as he drew a bit closer before stopping about ten feet from the other boy and slowly lowering his bag to the ground.
"I...uh...come in peace?"
...take me to your leader? Good grief, that sounds bad. Who writes this junk?
Oh. Right. I came up with that.
If Zach wanted to off him outright, Sean knew he made a lovely target: Pockets or not, the show-issued suit made it pretty clear that he wasn't hiding any weapons there...and his bag wasn't in a good drawing position, either. In essence, he was completely helpless, and if Zach really wanted to he could simply spear Sean right now and maybe make a Sean-ka-bob or something like that. While that might have made things easier in some ways, though, Sean took a wild guess that Zach wasn't inclined towards that particular course of action just now since he didn't start out by swinging the sword at his head, and every second the other boy didn't lunge reinforced that perception: He had some room to talk if Zach was willing to listen.
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Frozen Smoke
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He watched as the figure approached, going from a blur to a human. The human came into focus, becoming a boy. Then, his facial features began to make sense. It was Sean, the kid th-
Shit. Sean was the kid he'd beaten a while back. His first act of real violence. The memory of that made him feel good, the feeling of cartillage and bone under his fist. A little smile snaked across his cracked lips.
But why was he here? Was he looking for revenge? That seemed likely. He gripped the handle in his hand. He was ready for a fight. Even more so than the norm. He watched as the boy walked closer, nonchalantly, but with far too much purpose to be wandering like the two he'd been following. He was about to ask him what he wanted, when the boy spoke.
He wasnt going to exchange pleasantries. There was no reason to. Fight me or give me a quest, as some guy had said.
Jesus christ, he "Comes in peace" too? That doesn't mean anything! He "wasn't going to hurt" Marion. He couldnt be the only guy doing things like that, He'd seen it too many times.
He looked searchingly at him for a moment, trying to discern whether he was hiding arms somewhere. He couldn't see anything, but he knew there were weapons you couldn't spot right away, the lipstick gun, La Petit Guardiane, switchblades and other assorted sneaky bastard weapons.
"Hands up." He said simply, his eyes locking onto his, burning into them, looking for some hint of his plans.
Nope. Apparently still not a mind reader.
"What d'ya want?" He asked
Shit. Sean was the kid he'd beaten a while back. His first act of real violence. The memory of that made him feel good, the feeling of cartillage and bone under his fist. A little smile snaked across his cracked lips.
But why was he here? Was he looking for revenge? That seemed likely. He gripped the handle in his hand. He was ready for a fight. Even more so than the norm. He watched as the boy walked closer, nonchalantly, but with far too much purpose to be wandering like the two he'd been following. He was about to ask him what he wanted, when the boy spoke.
He wasnt going to exchange pleasantries. There was no reason to. Fight me or give me a quest, as some guy had said.
Jesus christ, he "Comes in peace" too? That doesn't mean anything! He "wasn't going to hurt" Marion. He couldnt be the only guy doing things like that, He'd seen it too many times.
He looked searchingly at him for a moment, trying to discern whether he was hiding arms somewhere. He couldn't see anything, but he knew there were weapons you couldn't spot right away, the lipstick gun, La Petit Guardiane, switchblades and other assorted sneaky bastard weapons.
"Hands up." He said simply, his eyes locking onto his, burning into them, looking for some hint of his plans.
Nope. Apparently still not a mind reader.
"What d'ya want?" He asked
"Hands up."
Sean complies, stepping away from the bag to let Zach know he's not about to dive for something. The order draws almost a roll of the eyes: Sean knows, of course, that some of the strangest weapons get issued.
"Do I need to strip down?" His suit is actually about half open, showing his green undershirt, thanks to both the heat in some parts of the island and the large amount of walking he'd done.
"What d'ya want?"
That...was a trickeier question to answer right...and one he wasn't even sure how to phrase correctly. There were lots and lots of ways to say roughly what he wanted, and no simple way to hit it dead on. His heart thumping like a freight train from the adrenaline in his veins due to what this concerned (to say nothing of the big sword Zach had) didn't help things, either.
"I...you're playing, right? In the running for the ten kill ticket, right?" Deep, deep breath. "What are you at."
Sean complies, stepping away from the bag to let Zach know he's not about to dive for something. The order draws almost a roll of the eyes: Sean knows, of course, that some of the strangest weapons get issued.
"Do I need to strip down?" His suit is actually about half open, showing his green undershirt, thanks to both the heat in some parts of the island and the large amount of walking he'd done.
"What d'ya want?"
That...was a trickeier question to answer right...and one he wasn't even sure how to phrase correctly. There were lots and lots of ways to say roughly what he wanted, and no simple way to hit it dead on. His heart thumping like a freight train from the adrenaline in his veins due to what this concerned (to say nothing of the big sword Zach had) didn't help things, either.
"I...you're playing, right? In the running for the ten kill ticket, right?" Deep, deep breath. "What are you at."
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Frozen Smoke
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Was he playing? Yeah... He was. He guessed. But, was he really gunning for ten? He was, but he wasnt. Not really. He hadn't killed Sean on the spot, so he wasn't going for it like that crazy Karen chick was, but he still wanted to get off this island, and relying on other people to help him didnt sit right.
"Yeah..."
A simple one word answer to such a complex question. Showing off your A grade in phillosophy there Zachariah.
But that wasn't the point. Why was he asking this? Was he hunting players?
No, he was holding his hands above his head.
Was he... ...?
Zach didn't have any words or thoughts to fill that blank, so it hung there, incomplete, stalling him for a moment before he spoke again.
"What's it to you?"
"Yeah..."
A simple one word answer to such a complex question. Showing off your A grade in phillosophy there Zachariah.
But that wasn't the point. Why was he asking this? Was he hunting players?
No, he was holding his hands above his head.
Was he... ...?
Zach didn't have any words or thoughts to fill that blank, so it hung there, incomplete, stalling him for a moment before he spoke again.
"What's it to you?"
"Yeah...What's it to you?"
Sean took another, forced deep breath.
What am I doing?
I'm getting off this show, that's what I'm doing. Getting off and helping someone else get off as well. A suicide is a complete waste...this way, I at least know who I'm helping and I chose them.
"Z...Zach, I'd like to be next."
Sean stops as he says this, a bit surprised at the request no matter how long he'd been thinking it over. It feels off, feels wrong...but it is why he came here after all, why he sought out Zach...and probably what's going to happen here no matter what anyway: He's unarmed in front of a "big killer" who hasn't spent a couple of days being beaten up on and off and who has a sword. No, that is not something you walk away from in one piece in most cases.
Sean took another, forced deep breath.
What am I doing?
I'm getting off this show, that's what I'm doing. Getting off and helping someone else get off as well. A suicide is a complete waste...this way, I at least know who I'm helping and I chose them.
"Z...Zach, I'd like to be next."
Sean stops as he says this, a bit surprised at the request no matter how long he'd been thinking it over. It feels off, feels wrong...but it is why he came here after all, why he sought out Zach...and probably what's going to happen here no matter what anyway: He's unarmed in front of a "big killer" who hasn't spent a couple of days being beaten up on and off and who has a sword. No, that is not something you walk away from in one piece in most cases.
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Frozen Smoke
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What.
He wanted to be next? What the fuck did that even mean? He wanted to be the next kill? Did that even happen?
No. This didn't happen. Something was definetly up here.
But... How could he say no? He could be one kill closer. Closer to getting the fuck out of here, to getting home.
He edged closer.
"Are you sure?" He asked
He wanted to be next? What the fuck did that even mean? He wanted to be the next kill? Did that even happen?
No. This didn't happen. Something was definetly up here.
But... How could he say no? He could be one kill closer. Closer to getting the fuck out of here, to getting home.
He edged closer.
"Are you sure?" He asked
"Are you sure?"
Well, that's a hell of a question. Of course not! Of course I'm not sure I want to die...in fact, I'm quite sure that I don't want to die. But I'm going to die anyway...there's no real way around that. So this is the best option, isn't it? Letting you have the kill rather than it being wasted on someone else?
"Yeah." Sean looks around. "Yeah, I am. It's better than waiting for some monster to kill me." Beat. "I mean...can we go for something that isn't too bloody or drawn-out? My parents are going to see this at some point."
I mean, if you're going to torture me it's not like I can stop you, and I'm sure the ratings people would just love that...but is it too much to ask for something that's not too far over the top here?
And, after another awkward moment, a more (immediately) practical consideration rears its head. "Zach, uh...listen, my hands are getting kinda tired...can I put them down?"
Well, that's a hell of a question. Of course not! Of course I'm not sure I want to die...in fact, I'm quite sure that I don't want to die. But I'm going to die anyway...there's no real way around that. So this is the best option, isn't it? Letting you have the kill rather than it being wasted on someone else?
"Yeah." Sean looks around. "Yeah, I am. It's better than waiting for some monster to kill me." Beat. "I mean...can we go for something that isn't too bloody or drawn-out? My parents are going to see this at some point."
I mean, if you're going to torture me it's not like I can stop you, and I'm sure the ratings people would just love that...but is it too much to ask for something that's not too far over the top here?
And, after another awkward moment, a more (immediately) practical consideration rears its head. "Zach, uh...listen, my hands are getting kinda tired...can I put them down?"
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Frozen Smoke
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"Yeah." He was looking around nervously, like he was looking for something, or someone. He noted rougly where he was looking. He'd check there later. Maybe he was simply just nervous. If what he was saying was true, he had every right to be nervous, but he had to prepare, just in case.
"Yeah, I am. It's better than waiting for some monster to kill me."
He was waiting for someone who wasnt a monster? But... He had killed, he was a self professed player, which, by definition, made him a monster. No. He wasnt a monster, there were worse people than him. Wasnt there? There had to be. He couldnt be this seasons villain. He just couldnt
He didn't like where that was going, so he was glad that he interrupted him.
"I mean...can we go for something that isn't too bloody or drawn-out? My parents are going to see this at some point."
Oh... God. He hadnt even thought of his parents. At all. What must they think of him?
No. He wasnt going to start second guessing himself. That had led to the deaths of so many contestants. He wasnt going to make those mistakes.
"Zach, uh...listen, my hands are getting kinda tired...can I put them down?"
Oh, damn. What should he do? If he said no, and he was serious, he would've just lost a kill. But if he said yes, and he did have a concealed weapon, he might try and draw and fire. Which could happen. You cant win a shootout if your not first. You can draw and fire faster than the average human reflex time if you're good. He needed to instill some self doubt in him, so he'd be slower, so he'd second guess himself.
What would Jared do?
He'd snap of a witty one liner and stay on guard.
"Yeah, just no sudden moves or they're coming off" He said, his tone careful, yet dangerous.
Well, apparently he couldnt do wit, but hey, it was good enough. Sean'd know what he meant.
"Yeah, I am. It's better than waiting for some monster to kill me."
He was waiting for someone who wasnt a monster? But... He had killed, he was a self professed player, which, by definition, made him a monster. No. He wasnt a monster, there were worse people than him. Wasnt there? There had to be. He couldnt be this seasons villain. He just couldnt
He didn't like where that was going, so he was glad that he interrupted him.
"I mean...can we go for something that isn't too bloody or drawn-out? My parents are going to see this at some point."
Oh... God. He hadnt even thought of his parents. At all. What must they think of him?
No. He wasnt going to start second guessing himself. That had led to the deaths of so many contestants. He wasnt going to make those mistakes.
"Zach, uh...listen, my hands are getting kinda tired...can I put them down?"
Oh, damn. What should he do? If he said no, and he was serious, he would've just lost a kill. But if he said yes, and he did have a concealed weapon, he might try and draw and fire. Which could happen. You cant win a shootout if your not first. You can draw and fire faster than the average human reflex time if you're good. He needed to instill some self doubt in him, so he'd be slower, so he'd second guess himself.
What would Jared do?
He'd snap of a witty one liner and stay on guard.
"Yeah, just no sudden moves or they're coming off" He said, his tone careful, yet dangerous.
Well, apparently he couldnt do wit, but hey, it was good enough. Sean'd know what he meant.
"Yeah, just no sudden moves or they're coming off."
Sean smirks a bit and lowers his hands slowly. "Thanks, Jared. Thanks a lot."
Glancing down at his bag, Sean looks around a bit awkwardly. "Look, there's some food and water left in there...all sealed, so it should be safe for when we're...done. I also got issued a super-soaker, for what that's worth. Don't know if you've got any ideas for using it."
And then there's an awkward pause as Sean looks around, not sure of what to say (or, for that matter, do) next. He does zip his suit up the rest of the way (the not-so-hot weather and the fact that he's not moving making it a bit more bearable)...and then he sits down by the wall, waiting on Zach to move. He doesn't feel like talking just to fill airtime right now (as fun as that might be, it'll probably get cut in production or something, and he doesn't feel like helping the producers sell a "worst monologues" video), so he just tries to relax a bit and wait.
It's your show...your kill, not mine. I'm not gonna rush you...I don't feel like rushing this, you know...given how it ends...
Sean smirks a bit and lowers his hands slowly. "Thanks, Jared. Thanks a lot."
Glancing down at his bag, Sean looks around a bit awkwardly. "Look, there's some food and water left in there...all sealed, so it should be safe for when we're...done. I also got issued a super-soaker, for what that's worth. Don't know if you've got any ideas for using it."
And then there's an awkward pause as Sean looks around, not sure of what to say (or, for that matter, do) next. He does zip his suit up the rest of the way (the not-so-hot weather and the fact that he's not moving making it a bit more bearable)...and then he sits down by the wall, waiting on Zach to move. He doesn't feel like talking just to fill airtime right now (as fun as that might be, it'll probably get cut in production or something, and he doesn't feel like helping the producers sell a "worst monologues" video), so he just tries to relax a bit and wait.
It's your show...your kill, not mine. I'm not gonna rush you...I don't feel like rushing this, you know...given how it ends...
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Frozen Smoke
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"Thanks, Jared. Thanks a lot." His carefully controlled expression broke for a moment before he reconciled it. Maybe he should really work on the whole wit thing.
He then gave him a quick inventory of what he had left. He sounded so calm and serene, not like someone who was talking about his death. Maybe he wasnt all there? Maybe he'd expierienced the island in all it's goriness?
He thought for a moment, a silence washing over them. Then, he tried to pull together the words.
He didnt know what to say. What could he say? This was advantageous to him. A kill without a fight. But How did you ask someone how they want to die without scaring them off? What could you say to a man who wants to die?
He just stood there, not sure what to do. He looked around, pretending to be as nervous as he, but really looking at where Sean had. Nothing. Maybe he had just been nervous?
He then gave him a quick inventory of what he had left. He sounded so calm and serene, not like someone who was talking about his death. Maybe he wasnt all there? Maybe he'd expierienced the island in all it's goriness?
He thought for a moment, a silence washing over them. Then, he tried to pull together the words.
He didnt know what to say. What could he say? This was advantageous to him. A kill without a fight. But How did you ask someone how they want to die without scaring them off? What could you say to a man who wants to die?
He just stood there, not sure what to do. He looked around, pretending to be as nervous as he, but really looking at where Sean had. Nothing. Maybe he had just been nervous?
The silence was oppressive in its own way: Sean waited for Zach to say something, and Zach presumably reciprocated. So they sat there for what seemed like forever (which probably meant about five minutes) before Sean finally broke the ice.
"So...uh...how do you want to...you know?"
If this isn't on his mind, then I'll be shocked. But...
It's then that it occurs to Sean that what he's doing is probably borderline unprecedented. It simply hadn't hit him that the contestants just didn't do this: You got a smattering of suicides, yes; you got those who muddled along until a player found them and then more or less threw in the towel...but someone who actively sought out someone to kill them?
I'm actually surprised I can't think of anyone else having done this.
Then again, nobody wanted to die on SOTF. That was sort of the point, after all...teenagers weren't supposed to accept death, and it also seemed like those who did also tended to be the ones who fought on the longest and the hardest.
"I mean...I don't know if you've got any preferences."
Or things you want to try out...
There's a beat in Sean's mind at that line of thinking.
Ok, I do not want to be a guinea pig for a player, thank you very much.
"So...uh...how do you want to...you know?"
If this isn't on his mind, then I'll be shocked. But...
It's then that it occurs to Sean that what he's doing is probably borderline unprecedented. It simply hadn't hit him that the contestants just didn't do this: You got a smattering of suicides, yes; you got those who muddled along until a player found them and then more or less threw in the towel...but someone who actively sought out someone to kill them?
I'm actually surprised I can't think of anyone else having done this.
Then again, nobody wanted to die on SOTF. That was sort of the point, after all...teenagers weren't supposed to accept death, and it also seemed like those who did also tended to be the ones who fought on the longest and the hardest.
"I mean...I don't know if you've got any preferences."
Or things you want to try out...
There's a beat in Sean's mind at that line of thinking.
Ok, I do not want to be a guinea pig for a player, thank you very much.
((Just a reminder: in the future, please obey the thread limit, unless you have explicit permission from a mod to exceed it, in which case you should include that information in the first post of the thread. Thanks!))
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Frozen Smoke
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"So...uh...how do you want to...you know?" He asked, breaking the silence with a loaded question. Why was he asking him this? Surely he had thought about this on some level?
Or maybe he'd just been dancing around the subject in his mind as much as he had been in his wording?
He tried to think of the ways people killed themselves, or were killed, that didnt seem excruciatingly painful.
"I could, uh, curbstomp you, or like, slash your wrists, or pull your collar, or try and decapitate you..."
He trailed off. Not one of them sounded feasable. Goddamnit, he was being handed a kill on a silver platter, and he was fucking it up. Why did that even suprise him any more?
His eyesight dropped for a moment, before looking back at him.
He hoped he had some ideas that were actually doable.
Or maybe he'd just been dancing around the subject in his mind as much as he had been in his wording?
He tried to think of the ways people killed themselves, or were killed, that didnt seem excruciatingly painful.
"I could, uh, curbstomp you, or like, slash your wrists, or pull your collar, or try and decapitate you..."
He trailed off. Not one of them sounded feasable. Goddamnit, he was being handed a kill on a silver platter, and he was fucking it up. Why did that even suprise him any more?
His eyesight dropped for a moment, before looking back at him.
He hoped he had some ideas that were actually doable.
The whole list which Zach rattles off sounded just plain awful to Sean:
"I could, uh, curbstomp you..."
Ech...that just sounds messy and painful. No thanks.
"...or like, slash your wrists..."
What am I? Some emo kid? Some girl crying out for attention? That's just...humiliating.
"...or pull your collar..."
...which would probably blow your hand off as well. Either that or I'd find out that I've got a misfiring collar of some kind and get to bleed out all over the ground. Thanks but no thanks.
"...or try and decapitate you..."
No offense Zach, but I don't think you could pull that off given how big your sword is, and I really want this to be done right the first time.
Amid a barrage of lousy death ideas, one resurfaces that had crossed through Sean's mind in his wanderings as his eyes settle on a tree nearby with a nice horizontal branch.
Huh.
"...got any rope?"
The inquiry was almost casual, like an outdated milk advertisement or something. Still, amid a bunch of bad ideas it's the best one to come to mind as far as Sean can tell. Granted, that may not be saying a whole lot right now...but it's still better than nothing at this point.
"I could, uh, curbstomp you..."
Ech...that just sounds messy and painful. No thanks.
"...or like, slash your wrists..."
What am I? Some emo kid? Some girl crying out for attention? That's just...humiliating.
"...or pull your collar..."
...which would probably blow your hand off as well. Either that or I'd find out that I've got a misfiring collar of some kind and get to bleed out all over the ground. Thanks but no thanks.
"...or try and decapitate you..."
No offense Zach, but I don't think you could pull that off given how big your sword is, and I really want this to be done right the first time.
Amid a barrage of lousy death ideas, one resurfaces that had crossed through Sean's mind in his wanderings as his eyes settle on a tree nearby with a nice horizontal branch.
Huh.
"...got any rope?"
The inquiry was almost casual, like an outdated milk advertisement or something. Still, amid a bunch of bad ideas it's the best one to come to mind as far as Sean can tell. Granted, that may not be saying a whole lot right now...but it's still better than nothing at this point.