[Yellow #4 - Marcus Walker. Start.]
Marcus wasn't happy.
"Son of a bitch."
He wasn't happy at all. Not in the fucking least. Sure, he watched this damn show but he never actually wanted to be a contestant. This was all kinds of fucked. Not to mention that if he ever did get home, his grandmother would beat his ass for disappearing when he was supposed to be helping Laney with her school projects. And who knows what Grant was going to get into with Marcus away from the house, possibly permanently. This was so fucked. Marcus was not happy, not in the least.
Of course, the weapon he got didn't do anything to make him happier.
Really, why did he have to get a toy? An old toy, at that. He couldn't have gotten a knife or so much as a screwdriver? No, he got a fucking toy that shoots... air. How useful. How terribly useful. Such a piece of fucking shit. He thought about tearing the plastic off and using that, but he knew he'd just be better off tossing it now and saving himself the space. He tried it out once or twice though, and then tossed it aside, wiping his forehead. God damn it was hot here. The fuck was at the bottom of that hole anyways? Fucking lava? It was a definite possibility. Hell, fuck possibilities. The sign over there pretty much said as much. It would probably make for some good ratings if someone fell in, but Marcus sure as hell wasn't going anywhere near it.
At least, not right now.
For now, Marcus was content to sit and dig around in the backpack. First aid kit, bandanna, flashlight, condom, extra clothes, food. All the things he would need to survive about a week on the island. But survive he would. He was determined to survive, since he sure as hell didn't feel like letting Laney sit at home and cry. There was no way he was going to just sit there and die. He wasn't about to end up like Marie. No fucking way was he going to let one of these wannabe bangers or the fucks from the other school smoke him.
No fucking way was he backing down now.
He'd get through this and he'd get back home. He'd get back to Laney and back to Grant. There was no way he was going to let them make his little sister cry. He'll stand his ground, no matter who he comes up against. Whether its Bobby or some big fucker from that other group, he'll stand his ground. Of course, he would rather not do it alone. He'd rather find someone he could work with. Like Anthony or Devonte. He saw them during the introduction, so he knew they were here... somewhere. If he could find either of them, he was almost guaranteed to win. They could win and they could make it out of this. And he wouldn't have to worry about making Laney cry.
"Fuck losing. I'm winning this shit, team or no team."
Now... where to begin?
I Won't Back Down
I Won't Back Down
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Dr. Nic. 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.
GLD2: HUDSON, TODD - START
"Make me proud son... So all them faggots how a REAL man wins this game!"
That was the last thing Todd heard before he was dragged away from his home by pair of SWAT officers who're armed to the teeth.
It had been such a simple morning at first for the arrogant schoolboy. He'd been laying on the sofa, a packet of potato chips in one hand and a remote in the other as he flicked through the channels, eventually stopping when he saw that Mickey MacDonald show was on. The show was, in many ways, a lot like a twisted mix of Jerry Springer and Jackass with the amount of boobs and foul language turned up to eleven. So naturally, it happened to be one of Todd's favourite shows EVER.
Then of course, the SWAT guys had to come along and ruin everything. Just as it was getting to the good part as well. Surprisingly, rather then fight them off with his bear hands, his father Clint Hudson simply sighed and let them take him away without offering so much as a word of protest. It was almost as if he was GLAD to see his pride and joy get taken away to fight to the death in the middle of some godawful island!
But Todd knew different. He knew for a fact that his pop was confident enough about his ability to get Todd out of this mess to not worry about a thing. That's why he didn't object to them dragging him away. And why he gave him a hearty salute on the way out, or put on a bright smile as he shook hands with one of the SWAT officers shortly before they left. With any luck, Todd would be chillaxing back home before he even knew it!
But first he had to sit through the briefing. Fair enough, he couldn't expect his pop to get him off the hook THAT quickly. For now, he just had to sit tight and wait it out as whatshisname explained the rules. Yeah yeah, "You will have to find your teams on the island; we can't be doing allblahblahyaddayadda...". Todd didn't care about what they had to say. Why should he? The second the briefing was over, his pop was going to kick the door down and save his ass. He didn't have to worry about a goddamn thing...
Funnily enough, Todd still firmly believed this the moment he finally woke up to find himself in the middle of some weird-ass jungle.
Okay, now this is getting fuckin' ridiculous. Where the HELL is he?!? I wasn't supposed to be waiting this long! I should be back home right now, chilling out with a can of beer and some hot bird! Not sitting around in some fucking RAINFOREST! Who am I, George of the motherfucking Jungle?!?
Whilst he sat there, he decided it wouldn't hurt to check out what weapon he'd been assigned. After all, once his father came along in a helicopter to pick him up he probably wouldn't ever get the chance to see what it was. That being said, as he untidily emptied the contents of his bag all over the floor, he couldn't find a single item which fitted the description.....
Okay, first aid kit? Check. Cola? Check. Tent? Check. Condom? Check. Flashlight? Check. Gimp suit? Che-WHAT THE FUCK?!?
Yep. Sure enough, right there in his bag was a rather tight looking gimp suit. One which Todd was almost certain must have been a size too short for him... Sick sons of bitches... Anyway, what else have we got here?
After searching the bag thoroughly, Todd eventually came to the conclusion that whoever had assigned the weapons must have missed him out by mistake. Dumbass... Oh well, I ain't gonna need a weapon anyway. Now then, lets see which team i'm on...
He stretched out the bandanna he'd been assigned, holding it between his hands as he looked it over. It was coloured gold, and as far as Todd could tell didn't have any defining patterns on it... Heh, Team Gold. How appropriate...
After tying the bandanna around his head, Todd decided that it would be a good idea to find some of his "teammates" so he could mooch off them before his dad arrived. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do with himself. And sure enough, after packing all his stuff up and walking in a straight line for a good couple of minutes, he found a lone figure standing around by themselves. Holy shit! So like, is he on my team, or what? Better take a closer look...
Sure enough, after clambering over the fence that stood between him and his potential meatshield, he managed to get a better view of this stranger. He was a black guy, and a pretty big one at that. Probably one of the losers from that other school whose name Todd couldn't even remember. Still, from Todd's perspective he seemed to have the same colour bandanna as him, so perhaps having a six foot black guy as a companion wasn't such a bad prospect after all.
Alrighty then... Gotta go over to him and act friendly. Earn his trust. Shouldn't be TOO hard, after all, the guy's obviously dumb as a rock. And I think I know just how to charm him.....
No, not like that. Pervert.
So, fully confident that what he was about to do would quickly earn the trust of this guy whom Todd had never met before in his entire life, the spoilt boy stood up and slowly made his way over to the fellow player he'd falsely assumed was his teammate.
"YO! Sup dawg!" he shouted, waving his arm about like an idiot.
THAT caught his attention...
"Heyhey, don't worry brother, we're homies! Look, we're on the same team, see?" he added a few seconds later, his hand pointing at his bandanna.
If Todd had been playing the slightest bit of attention, he would have noticed that fact that the boy he was currently insulting had a yellow bandanna instead of the gold one he was currently wearing.
"Make me proud son... So all them faggots how a REAL man wins this game!"
That was the last thing Todd heard before he was dragged away from his home by pair of SWAT officers who're armed to the teeth.
It had been such a simple morning at first for the arrogant schoolboy. He'd been laying on the sofa, a packet of potato chips in one hand and a remote in the other as he flicked through the channels, eventually stopping when he saw that Mickey MacDonald show was on. The show was, in many ways, a lot like a twisted mix of Jerry Springer and Jackass with the amount of boobs and foul language turned up to eleven. So naturally, it happened to be one of Todd's favourite shows EVER.
Then of course, the SWAT guys had to come along and ruin everything. Just as it was getting to the good part as well. Surprisingly, rather then fight them off with his bear hands, his father Clint Hudson simply sighed and let them take him away without offering so much as a word of protest. It was almost as if he was GLAD to see his pride and joy get taken away to fight to the death in the middle of some godawful island!
But Todd knew different. He knew for a fact that his pop was confident enough about his ability to get Todd out of this mess to not worry about a thing. That's why he didn't object to them dragging him away. And why he gave him a hearty salute on the way out, or put on a bright smile as he shook hands with one of the SWAT officers shortly before they left. With any luck, Todd would be chillaxing back home before he even knew it!
But first he had to sit through the briefing. Fair enough, he couldn't expect his pop to get him off the hook THAT quickly. For now, he just had to sit tight and wait it out as whatshisname explained the rules. Yeah yeah, "You will have to find your teams on the island; we can't be doing allblahblahyaddayadda...". Todd didn't care about what they had to say. Why should he? The second the briefing was over, his pop was going to kick the door down and save his ass. He didn't have to worry about a goddamn thing...
Funnily enough, Todd still firmly believed this the moment he finally woke up to find himself in the middle of some weird-ass jungle.
Okay, now this is getting fuckin' ridiculous. Where the HELL is he?!? I wasn't supposed to be waiting this long! I should be back home right now, chilling out with a can of beer and some hot bird! Not sitting around in some fucking RAINFOREST! Who am I, George of the motherfucking Jungle?!?
Whilst he sat there, he decided it wouldn't hurt to check out what weapon he'd been assigned. After all, once his father came along in a helicopter to pick him up he probably wouldn't ever get the chance to see what it was. That being said, as he untidily emptied the contents of his bag all over the floor, he couldn't find a single item which fitted the description.....
Okay, first aid kit? Check. Cola? Check. Tent? Check. Condom? Check. Flashlight? Check. Gimp suit? Che-WHAT THE FUCK?!?
Yep. Sure enough, right there in his bag was a rather tight looking gimp suit. One which Todd was almost certain must have been a size too short for him... Sick sons of bitches... Anyway, what else have we got here?
After searching the bag thoroughly, Todd eventually came to the conclusion that whoever had assigned the weapons must have missed him out by mistake. Dumbass... Oh well, I ain't gonna need a weapon anyway. Now then, lets see which team i'm on...
He stretched out the bandanna he'd been assigned, holding it between his hands as he looked it over. It was coloured gold, and as far as Todd could tell didn't have any defining patterns on it... Heh, Team Gold. How appropriate...
After tying the bandanna around his head, Todd decided that it would be a good idea to find some of his "teammates" so he could mooch off them before his dad arrived. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do with himself. And sure enough, after packing all his stuff up and walking in a straight line for a good couple of minutes, he found a lone figure standing around by themselves. Holy shit! So like, is he on my team, or what? Better take a closer look...
Sure enough, after clambering over the fence that stood between him and his potential meatshield, he managed to get a better view of this stranger. He was a black guy, and a pretty big one at that. Probably one of the losers from that other school whose name Todd couldn't even remember. Still, from Todd's perspective he seemed to have the same colour bandanna as him, so perhaps having a six foot black guy as a companion wasn't such a bad prospect after all.
Alrighty then... Gotta go over to him and act friendly. Earn his trust. Shouldn't be TOO hard, after all, the guy's obviously dumb as a rock. And I think I know just how to charm him.....
No, not like that. Pervert.
So, fully confident that what he was about to do would quickly earn the trust of this guy whom Todd had never met before in his entire life, the spoilt boy stood up and slowly made his way over to the fellow player he'd falsely assumed was his teammate.
"YO! Sup dawg!" he shouted, waving his arm about like an idiot.
THAT caught his attention...
"Heyhey, don't worry brother, we're homies! Look, we're on the same team, see?" he added a few seconds later, his hand pointing at his bandanna.
If Todd had been playing the slightest bit of attention, he would have noticed that fact that the boy he was currently insulting had a yellow bandanna instead of the gold one he was currently wearing.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
-
ThePureLight7*
- Posts: 32
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 8:00 pm
[[Yellow #1: Skyler Thsani, Start]]
Skyler was starting to be thankful that he was wearing a sleeveless white tank-top. "Fuck, it's hot!" he said under his breath as he searched through the blue backpack that was given to him by the producers. He was sitting at the bottom of a small crater in a black, hard ground. In the distance he could see some large trees.
He had already pulled out his t-shirt and pants pulled out and was probably going to change in a second. "It would probably do me best to have a second without clothes. Help deal with the heat... Goddamn, it's like I'm in a fucking volcano!" he said aloud, still not loud enough to be heard by anyone. He pulled out his team bandana, yellow with a smiley face drawn on it, and placed in on top of the other clothes to put on after he changed.
He had just been visiting his father. The man was still unable to really talk that much, but it was getting better. You could tell he was able to understand certain things, with the way he reacted. Maybe I could talk to the hospital staff... Skye thought, Maybe they could get him a computer with one of those text-to-speech programs or something... I heard of a guy once who couldn't put words together, but was still able to talk with one of those. Or at least a pen and paper.
That was what he thought about the entire ride home. He tried calling Sam to ask him if he could look it up, but he wasn't home. "Dammit," he said aloud, "Sam's never home when I need him."
He switched the radio station from the current hits to his favorite station. It was "new classic rock" station. Things from the early part of the millenium. He was starting to put his father aside for a moment as he sang along to "Baby Girl, I'm A Blur" when he pulled up to his house.
The first thing he saw was two men in what appeared to be SWAT uniform facing away from the parking lot, talking to his mother. What the Hell? he thought, turning the song down. The singer's voice fading away, "So with your flamethrower eyes and jilted smile..." He got out of the car.
He walked up quietly, in case he was interrupting something, but as he got close to the porch, the two men put around. They each were holding rather large guns. He saw the look on his mother's face for a quick moment, drained completely of blood, as if to say "Run..." If only he had the time.
Before he knew what was happening, the two men had him in their arms. After what seemed like an eternity of kicking and screaming, begging for exposition as to what was happening, he was placed in the car. "We talked to your mother," one man said, sitting in back with Skye, buckling him down, "She knows where you're going."
"Welcome to SOTF TV..."
And that's how he got to the where he was now.
He checked his watch, seeing it was just a little bit past twelve. He wiped his arm across his forehead. He didn't want to have to kill anyone, but he had watched this show briefly before. He knew that those who didn't accept the fact that they're on their own here spent their (brief) time on the island in Hell. Those who accepted it made Hell their home. He would be stupid to say he wasn't playing along from the get-go.
Then he pulled it out. "What the fuck?" he said, lifting it up and unfolding it. It seemed to be a plain gray t-shirt with a small plasticine window in the chest. Above it, written in elegant cursive, was The Situation, as if that was supposed to mean anything. "What is this?" he said, "Why the fuck is the chest see-through?" He shrugged, sighed, and put it aside.
Then he pulled the other it out. "What the fuck!" he said, lifting it up excitedly. He recognized what it was from pictures he had seen before. "A fucking crossbow! Holy fucking shit, that's awesome!!!"
He drew his breath in immediately, and pulled the bow against his breast. He realized that he had exclaimed that rather loudly, and he was afraid someone else might have heard him. He didn't know quite how to use the bow, but it was still better than the off-chance whoever heard him had an airzooka or something else stupid like that.
"Wait..." he said, after a moment, concluding he wasn't heard "Other people. I should check for them. It's probably best for me to find them before they find me." He climbed slowly out of the crater to see, in the far distance, two figures below him. Both appeared to have a yellow bandana.
Today was Skyler's lucky day.
He went back to his pit, quickly wrapped his bandana around his arm, threw his clothes in the backpack, and with it started his way towards where he saw the (he assumed and hoped) friendly shapes.
[[Edit: OOC, for those who want to see Skye's outfit, it's right here. http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SANGww4LJ74/TJrCTCnLjxI/AAAAAAAACHI/Q3L9AYQ910Y/s1600/the-situation-shirt-14426-1285190518-10.jpg ]]
Skyler was starting to be thankful that he was wearing a sleeveless white tank-top. "Fuck, it's hot!" he said under his breath as he searched through the blue backpack that was given to him by the producers. He was sitting at the bottom of a small crater in a black, hard ground. In the distance he could see some large trees.
He had already pulled out his t-shirt and pants pulled out and was probably going to change in a second. "It would probably do me best to have a second without clothes. Help deal with the heat... Goddamn, it's like I'm in a fucking volcano!" he said aloud, still not loud enough to be heard by anyone. He pulled out his team bandana, yellow with a smiley face drawn on it, and placed in on top of the other clothes to put on after he changed.
He had just been visiting his father. The man was still unable to really talk that much, but it was getting better. You could tell he was able to understand certain things, with the way he reacted. Maybe I could talk to the hospital staff... Skye thought, Maybe they could get him a computer with one of those text-to-speech programs or something... I heard of a guy once who couldn't put words together, but was still able to talk with one of those. Or at least a pen and paper.
That was what he thought about the entire ride home. He tried calling Sam to ask him if he could look it up, but he wasn't home. "Dammit," he said aloud, "Sam's never home when I need him."
He switched the radio station from the current hits to his favorite station. It was "new classic rock" station. Things from the early part of the millenium. He was starting to put his father aside for a moment as he sang along to "Baby Girl, I'm A Blur" when he pulled up to his house.
The first thing he saw was two men in what appeared to be SWAT uniform facing away from the parking lot, talking to his mother. What the Hell? he thought, turning the song down. The singer's voice fading away, "So with your flamethrower eyes and jilted smile..." He got out of the car.
He walked up quietly, in case he was interrupting something, but as he got close to the porch, the two men put around. They each were holding rather large guns. He saw the look on his mother's face for a quick moment, drained completely of blood, as if to say "Run..." If only he had the time.
Before he knew what was happening, the two men had him in their arms. After what seemed like an eternity of kicking and screaming, begging for exposition as to what was happening, he was placed in the car. "We talked to your mother," one man said, sitting in back with Skye, buckling him down, "She knows where you're going."
"Welcome to SOTF TV..."
And that's how he got to the where he was now.
He checked his watch, seeing it was just a little bit past twelve. He wiped his arm across his forehead. He didn't want to have to kill anyone, but he had watched this show briefly before. He knew that those who didn't accept the fact that they're on their own here spent their (brief) time on the island in Hell. Those who accepted it made Hell their home. He would be stupid to say he wasn't playing along from the get-go.
Then he pulled it out. "What the fuck?" he said, lifting it up and unfolding it. It seemed to be a plain gray t-shirt with a small plasticine window in the chest. Above it, written in elegant cursive, was The Situation, as if that was supposed to mean anything. "What is this?" he said, "Why the fuck is the chest see-through?" He shrugged, sighed, and put it aside.
Then he pulled the other it out. "What the fuck!" he said, lifting it up excitedly. He recognized what it was from pictures he had seen before. "A fucking crossbow! Holy fucking shit, that's awesome!!!"
He drew his breath in immediately, and pulled the bow against his breast. He realized that he had exclaimed that rather loudly, and he was afraid someone else might have heard him. He didn't know quite how to use the bow, but it was still better than the off-chance whoever heard him had an airzooka or something else stupid like that.
"Wait..." he said, after a moment, concluding he wasn't heard "Other people. I should check for them. It's probably best for me to find them before they find me." He climbed slowly out of the crater to see, in the far distance, two figures below him. Both appeared to have a yellow bandana.
Today was Skyler's lucky day.
He went back to his pit, quickly wrapped his bandana around his arm, threw his clothes in the backpack, and with it started his way towards where he saw the (he assumed and hoped) friendly shapes.
[[Edit: OOC, for those who want to see Skye's outfit, it's right here. http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SANGww4LJ74/TJrCTCnLjxI/AAAAAAAACHI/Q3L9AYQ910Y/s1600/the-situation-shirt-14426-1285190518-10.jpg ]]
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler ThePureLight7. 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.
...Seriously?
This was who he started next to? Whitest of the white people? Not just in skin tone, either. He fucking acted like a white boy. An idiotic one, to boot. Was that really going to be his choice of words to the first black guy he came across on the island? 'Sup dawg'? What was this, some rap video?
"...Do I look like your brother, dog?"
He mocked him. Openly, at that. Really, if this was the sort of opposition he was going to have from the kids from that other group, since he sure as hell didn't recognize this fucker, then Marcus would have nothing to worry about. He could eat this fuck whole and not break a sweat. At least, if he wasn't already sweating. God damn it was hot here. He'd hate to get any closer to that hole, even if it was to throw Mr. Whitey here into it. Which he was tempted to do, he had to admit. But maybe it wasn't the wisest plan to be openly hostile to the first person he came across. The bandanna he had did look oddly similar to his own. Except darker. And it didn't have any sort of moronic little smiley face on it.
"Bitch, you ain't on my team."
He just had to point that out. Hell, he didn't have to be nice to the boy, he sure as hell couldn't stand him, and it was a god damn god send that he wasn't stuck on the same fucking team as the moron.
"Look closer. Yellow, not gold."
He tugged at the bandanna hanging on his shoulder. He hadn't bothered to tie it anywhere yet. Honestly, he hadn't decided if he even wanted to. It just had to be showing, right? He didn't actually have to tie the thing on like some kind of banger. He hoped not. He didn't fly any colors at home and he sure as hell wouldn't be flying any on this damn game, no matter who the hell made the rules or what the punishment was. He'd keep it out in the open, but he sure as hell wasn't joining any god damn gang. Oh well. Back to the white boy.
"The fuck you looking at?"
Marcus hauled himself up and swung his backpack over his shoulder, slipping his bandanna into the pocket of his pants. Marcus was still pissed, and this idiot just seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time saying the worst things. He would make a perfect target to take out some frustrations on. He still had that nagging little feeling in the back of his head that told him to avoid conflict, but he was pissed enough to ignore it, at least for a little bit. Rationality had no place here with anger running the show.
This was a good a place as any to start off.
"...You got something to say?"
Marcus didn't even notice the other kid. White boy here fucked up enough to gain Marcus' full attention.
This was who he started next to? Whitest of the white people? Not just in skin tone, either. He fucking acted like a white boy. An idiotic one, to boot. Was that really going to be his choice of words to the first black guy he came across on the island? 'Sup dawg'? What was this, some rap video?
"...Do I look like your brother, dog?"
He mocked him. Openly, at that. Really, if this was the sort of opposition he was going to have from the kids from that other group, since he sure as hell didn't recognize this fucker, then Marcus would have nothing to worry about. He could eat this fuck whole and not break a sweat. At least, if he wasn't already sweating. God damn it was hot here. He'd hate to get any closer to that hole, even if it was to throw Mr. Whitey here into it. Which he was tempted to do, he had to admit. But maybe it wasn't the wisest plan to be openly hostile to the first person he came across. The bandanna he had did look oddly similar to his own. Except darker. And it didn't have any sort of moronic little smiley face on it.
"Bitch, you ain't on my team."
He just had to point that out. Hell, he didn't have to be nice to the boy, he sure as hell couldn't stand him, and it was a god damn god send that he wasn't stuck on the same fucking team as the moron.
"Look closer. Yellow, not gold."
He tugged at the bandanna hanging on his shoulder. He hadn't bothered to tie it anywhere yet. Honestly, he hadn't decided if he even wanted to. It just had to be showing, right? He didn't actually have to tie the thing on like some kind of banger. He hoped not. He didn't fly any colors at home and he sure as hell wouldn't be flying any on this damn game, no matter who the hell made the rules or what the punishment was. He'd keep it out in the open, but he sure as hell wasn't joining any god damn gang. Oh well. Back to the white boy.
"The fuck you looking at?"
Marcus hauled himself up and swung his backpack over his shoulder, slipping his bandanna into the pocket of his pants. Marcus was still pissed, and this idiot just seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time saying the worst things. He would make a perfect target to take out some frustrations on. He still had that nagging little feeling in the back of his head that told him to avoid conflict, but he was pissed enough to ignore it, at least for a little bit. Rationality had no place here with anger running the show.
This was a good a place as any to start off.
"...You got something to say?"
Marcus didn't even notice the other kid. White boy here fucked up enough to gain Marcus' full attention.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Dr. Nic. 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.
"...Do I look like your brother, dog?"
That statement alone stopped Todd dead in his tracks.
There was something distinctly threatening about the guy's tone of voice that even a guy like Todd could tell meant that he was currently treading on uneasy ground. Somewhere along the way, as it seemed, he'd SOMEHOW managed to unintentionally hurt the gangsta wannabe's feelings. Was his ghetto accent not good enough or something?
It was also at that point that Todd realised just how hot it was. What were they standing on, a volcano or something? Well, there WAS a big looking hole a couple of metres away, so maybe that had something to do about it.
Ooookaaay then... Seems Mr Peanut-Brain here lacks a sense of humour. Can't say i'm TOO surprised...
...Well, its a good thing we're on the same team then! Otherwise, I might of been in troub-
"Bitch, you ain't on my team."
"...Say whuh?"
Thats weird. Was this guy colourblind or something? They were CLEARLY on the same side! Unless Todd missheard whatshisname during the briefing, which to be fair was a genuine possibility seeing as Todd barely listened to him at the time. But if there was one thing he DID hear, it was that people were split into groups based on the colours of their bandanna's. And Todd was pretty sure that he and this bozo happened to share the same coloured-
"Look closer. Yellow, not gold."
Ah. Now that he mentions it, that bandanna DOES look more yellow then gold...................
..................................................................................................
................................wait................................................
..............................................
.......Oh.... FUCK!
Now that Todd fully realised just how deep the hole he'd dug himself actually was, he suddenly found himself no long able to properly form coherent sentences anymore.
"B-B-But I... I thought.... Buh.... It looked.... But I could of sworn........."
"The fuck you looking at?"
He was standing up now, his eyes boring into Todd's soul, looking more than a little pissed off with the wannabe frat boy. Speaking of piss, there was now a small wet patch where Todd's groin was. Something the arrogant young boy was far too terrified to notice at that particular moment in time. Especially seeing as there was a VERY angry looking black guy standing right in front of him with a murderous look in his eyes.
SHIT! SHIT! FUCKING, PISS COVERED, SHIT!!! Holy motherfucking GOD, what the hell do I do now!?! He's going to fucking tear me in half like a phone book!!! ShitshitshitSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!!!
He had to think of something fast. Anything! As long as it calmed down the behemoth he'd just disturbed. Should he try to make a run for it? He probably should have done just that, but the arrogant side of Todd's personality told him that he could still come up with a way to profit from the situation. Perhaps there was a way he could turn the situation around? Surely it couldn't be too late to earn this dipshit's trust? After all, all he had to make sure was that he didn't press the wrong buttons like before.
Shouldn't be TOO hard...
"...You got something to say?"
Okay, its now or never...
"Yeah! As a matter of fact, I do!" Todd exclaimed, trying to assert some dominance. When it became obvious that doing so would be impossible given the situation, he quickly decided to then adopt a more 'friendly' approach.
"Now, look buddy, I think we might of gotten off on the wrong foot... I think what we've got here is a simple misunderstanding! I mean, I LOVE black guys! Uh, black PEOPLE I mean, seeing as I ain't a fag or anything. But yeah, rap music? I am SO down with that shit! Snoop Dogg? Man, what an awesome guy! I must have, what, six friends who are black? Seven if you count Indian guys... Do Indian guys count as being black? I mean, I know they're kind of brown-ish, but... I dunno."
"Whatever, look, the point is... If we just settled our differences, i'm sure we can find a reasonable way to resolve this situation WITHOUT anyone getting pummled... Does that sound cool with you, brah?"
To further emphasise those last few words, Todd extended his hand out to shake Marcus' and put on the dumbest looking smirk he could unintentionally manage. Surprisingly, he didn't think for a second that anything he was doing right now might result in the complete opposite of what he was trying to achieve. His ego was just a LITTLE too big to accept that as a possibility.
However, not even his over inflated ego could deny that what he was about to say next was quite possibly the single worst thing he could have said at that moment in time. Sadly, he only realised this one second AFTER he'd said it on impulse.
"What's wrong, nigga? Shaking another guy's hand ain't exactly rocket science..."
That statement alone stopped Todd dead in his tracks.
There was something distinctly threatening about the guy's tone of voice that even a guy like Todd could tell meant that he was currently treading on uneasy ground. Somewhere along the way, as it seemed, he'd SOMEHOW managed to unintentionally hurt the gangsta wannabe's feelings. Was his ghetto accent not good enough or something?
It was also at that point that Todd realised just how hot it was. What were they standing on, a volcano or something? Well, there WAS a big looking hole a couple of metres away, so maybe that had something to do about it.
Ooookaaay then... Seems Mr Peanut-Brain here lacks a sense of humour. Can't say i'm TOO surprised...
...Well, its a good thing we're on the same team then! Otherwise, I might of been in troub-
"Bitch, you ain't on my team."
"...Say whuh?"
Thats weird. Was this guy colourblind or something? They were CLEARLY on the same side! Unless Todd missheard whatshisname during the briefing, which to be fair was a genuine possibility seeing as Todd barely listened to him at the time. But if there was one thing he DID hear, it was that people were split into groups based on the colours of their bandanna's. And Todd was pretty sure that he and this bozo happened to share the same coloured-
"Look closer. Yellow, not gold."
Ah. Now that he mentions it, that bandanna DOES look more yellow then gold...................
..................................................................................................
................................wait................................................
..............................................
.......Oh.... FUCK!
Now that Todd fully realised just how deep the hole he'd dug himself actually was, he suddenly found himself no long able to properly form coherent sentences anymore.
"B-B-But I... I thought.... Buh.... It looked.... But I could of sworn........."
"The fuck you looking at?"
He was standing up now, his eyes boring into Todd's soul, looking more than a little pissed off with the wannabe frat boy. Speaking of piss, there was now a small wet patch where Todd's groin was. Something the arrogant young boy was far too terrified to notice at that particular moment in time. Especially seeing as there was a VERY angry looking black guy standing right in front of him with a murderous look in his eyes.
SHIT! SHIT! FUCKING, PISS COVERED, SHIT!!! Holy motherfucking GOD, what the hell do I do now!?! He's going to fucking tear me in half like a phone book!!! ShitshitshitSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!!!
He had to think of something fast. Anything! As long as it calmed down the behemoth he'd just disturbed. Should he try to make a run for it? He probably should have done just that, but the arrogant side of Todd's personality told him that he could still come up with a way to profit from the situation. Perhaps there was a way he could turn the situation around? Surely it couldn't be too late to earn this dipshit's trust? After all, all he had to make sure was that he didn't press the wrong buttons like before.
Shouldn't be TOO hard...
"...You got something to say?"
Okay, its now or never...
"Yeah! As a matter of fact, I do!" Todd exclaimed, trying to assert some dominance. When it became obvious that doing so would be impossible given the situation, he quickly decided to then adopt a more 'friendly' approach.
"Now, look buddy, I think we might of gotten off on the wrong foot... I think what we've got here is a simple misunderstanding! I mean, I LOVE black guys! Uh, black PEOPLE I mean, seeing as I ain't a fag or anything. But yeah, rap music? I am SO down with that shit! Snoop Dogg? Man, what an awesome guy! I must have, what, six friends who are black? Seven if you count Indian guys... Do Indian guys count as being black? I mean, I know they're kind of brown-ish, but... I dunno."
"Whatever, look, the point is... If we just settled our differences, i'm sure we can find a reasonable way to resolve this situation WITHOUT anyone getting pummled... Does that sound cool with you, brah?"
To further emphasise those last few words, Todd extended his hand out to shake Marcus' and put on the dumbest looking smirk he could unintentionally manage. Surprisingly, he didn't think for a second that anything he was doing right now might result in the complete opposite of what he was trying to achieve. His ego was just a LITTLE too big to accept that as a possibility.
However, not even his over inflated ego could deny that what he was about to say next was quite possibly the single worst thing he could have said at that moment in time. Sadly, he only realised this one second AFTER he'd said it on impulse.
"What's wrong, nigga? Shaking another guy's hand ain't exactly rocket science..."
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
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ThePureLight7*
- Posts: 32
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 8:00 pm
As Skye got closer to the two figures, he started to slow down. He saw that one of them, the one nearest him, was wearing a similar colored yellow bandana. However, the other one was wearing a distinctly orangier color. Gold, he thought, That other kid's probably from gold. Or orange.
He stopped. From where he stood, he could only see a small bit of the golden boy's body, as his teammate was standing with back to Skye and blocking his view of the other person. He could hear a light bubbling coming from some large crater beside the two.
The golden boy was standing with his arm extended towards the yellow boy. Why is his arm extended, Skye thought, Shit. Is he pointing a gun at him? He could see now that his partner didn't appear to have a weapon.
Stand perfectly still... Skye thought, Maybe he won't be able to notice you or something. No sudden noises or movements. No, wait, dammit. We're in an open area. Shit. He stepped over a little, to try and get behind the yellow boy, out of sight of the golden boy.
Alright. My guy seems muscular. Big, black guy. That's probably good. Unless the kid gets him dead-on, he might be able to survive long enough for me to crossbow the golden boy and supply him some quick first-aid. He dropped the backpack lightly to his side.
Maybe if I move around quickly, I can simply off the guy before he sees me. Dammit, but would I be able to just kill the man? I don't even know him. But then again, if I don't kill him, my teammate might get hurt. It'd be sorta like self-defense, right? Fuck. I guess I knew I'd have to do this eventually...
There was already an arrow in it. He looked the crossbow up and down for the thing he needed to pull back. At least, he was pretty sure there was something to pull back. He didn't find anything that really looked like what he was looking for. He took one step over.
Then, suddenly, he heard a voice from their direction. It was very faint from where he stood, but he could still just barely make out what was being said. "What's wrong, nigga? Shaking another guy's hand ain't exactly rocket science..."
Well, that made sense. It explains why the golden boys hand was extended. However, from the wording he used, it was apparent to Skye that this boy didn't know the other one. It was also apparent that shit was about to go down.
He decided to just stand back for a moment to see what was happening and intervene if needed. He was just glad that he didn't have to shoot anyone. For now.
He stopped. From where he stood, he could only see a small bit of the golden boy's body, as his teammate was standing with back to Skye and blocking his view of the other person. He could hear a light bubbling coming from some large crater beside the two.
The golden boy was standing with his arm extended towards the yellow boy. Why is his arm extended, Skye thought, Shit. Is he pointing a gun at him? He could see now that his partner didn't appear to have a weapon.
Stand perfectly still... Skye thought, Maybe he won't be able to notice you or something. No sudden noises or movements. No, wait, dammit. We're in an open area. Shit. He stepped over a little, to try and get behind the yellow boy, out of sight of the golden boy.
Alright. My guy seems muscular. Big, black guy. That's probably good. Unless the kid gets him dead-on, he might be able to survive long enough for me to crossbow the golden boy and supply him some quick first-aid. He dropped the backpack lightly to his side.
Maybe if I move around quickly, I can simply off the guy before he sees me. Dammit, but would I be able to just kill the man? I don't even know him. But then again, if I don't kill him, my teammate might get hurt. It'd be sorta like self-defense, right? Fuck. I guess I knew I'd have to do this eventually...
There was already an arrow in it. He looked the crossbow up and down for the thing he needed to pull back. At least, he was pretty sure there was something to pull back. He didn't find anything that really looked like what he was looking for. He took one step over.
Then, suddenly, he heard a voice from their direction. It was very faint from where he stood, but he could still just barely make out what was being said. "What's wrong, nigga? Shaking another guy's hand ain't exactly rocket science..."
Well, that made sense. It explains why the golden boys hand was extended. However, from the wording he used, it was apparent to Skye that this boy didn't know the other one. It was also apparent that shit was about to go down.
He decided to just stand back for a moment to see what was happening and intervene if needed. He was just glad that he didn't have to shoot anyone. For now.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler ThePureLight7. 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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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
(Mae St. Clair continued from ...Brings Mae Flowers)
The heat got greater as the three of them walked, and Mae was grateful for the silence. She was trying to process...well everything. She was on a TV show, that was...great? She would either have to commit murder or be murdered or help other people commit murder in order to survive said TV show. Oh dear.
Zach, who had once claimed to love her, just murdered a snake to "protect" her. That was a thing. Also Shawn was there and accidentally pressing buttons that at this point should not be pressed.
She had studied so hard to get into a good college, and now she was not going to be doing much of anything, she guessed. The thought chilled her, and goosebumps rippled down her arms. At least she was no longer wearing that ridiculous outfit, Shawn was right, she might as well have been wearing a moving target! She could feel the collar around her neck, it didn't chafe, it was just there, but half of the time it felt as though it were laced with fire. Mae knew that it was just hyper awareness, and she fought the urge to touch it in any way.
There were voices up ahead and she didn't recognize them. That basically meant nothing since they were so far away, but it sort of spooked her nonetheless.
Now she could make out figures, one person with their hand extended at someone else. Oh...
She turned to Zach and Shawn, jerking her head in that direction. "We've got company," she whispered.
The heat got greater as the three of them walked, and Mae was grateful for the silence. She was trying to process...well everything. She was on a TV show, that was...great? She would either have to commit murder or be murdered or help other people commit murder in order to survive said TV show. Oh dear.
Zach, who had once claimed to love her, just murdered a snake to "protect" her. That was a thing. Also Shawn was there and accidentally pressing buttons that at this point should not be pressed.
She had studied so hard to get into a good college, and now she was not going to be doing much of anything, she guessed. The thought chilled her, and goosebumps rippled down her arms. At least she was no longer wearing that ridiculous outfit, Shawn was right, she might as well have been wearing a moving target! She could feel the collar around her neck, it didn't chafe, it was just there, but half of the time it felt as though it were laced with fire. Mae knew that it was just hyper awareness, and she fought the urge to touch it in any way.
There were voices up ahead and she didn't recognize them. That basically meant nothing since they were so far away, but it sort of spooked her nonetheless.
Now she could make out figures, one person with their hand extended at someone else. Oh...
She turned to Zach and Shawn, jerking her head in that direction. "We've got company," she whispered.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. 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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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
(( Zachariah Johnston continued from ... Brings Mae Flowers ))
Somewhere along the walk he'd found himself at the back. It could've been the heat, or the fact that he was carrying atleast 10 kilos more than the other two, or that he was enjoying the view of Mae's ass swaying hypnotically, or the fact that he just wasnt used to walking. Whatever the reason, he was trudging at the back, sweltering under his rubber lab coat.
There was an ominous silence hanging around him. It was something that he was both glad for, and hoped would go away. On one hand, it made it easier to think. He could formulate plans, of which he had worked out quite a few. However, he hated the feeling that he'd made them all uncomfortable.
All of this was playing around and around in his mind as he watched the heat haze build slowly in the distance, blurring the horizon untill it was an imperceptable line of colour. God he was hot. But he was damned if he'd complain, or stop them all just to undo a silly mistake that he'd made on a whim.
Then, distant voices. Muffled sounds. Figures.
People.
Potential threats.
He put the wrench back into his stronger hand as Mae spoke again.
"We've got company" She said simply. He stopped with her, holding Shawn back by putting his hand in front of him.
"So... What do we want to do? I say we just go up there cautiously. No need to start any fights" He suggested quietly, wiping the blood off of the wrench with the inside of his sleeve. No need to give any bad impressions, after all.
Somewhere along the walk he'd found himself at the back. It could've been the heat, or the fact that he was carrying atleast 10 kilos more than the other two, or that he was enjoying the view of Mae's ass swaying hypnotically, or the fact that he just wasnt used to walking. Whatever the reason, he was trudging at the back, sweltering under his rubber lab coat.
There was an ominous silence hanging around him. It was something that he was both glad for, and hoped would go away. On one hand, it made it easier to think. He could formulate plans, of which he had worked out quite a few. However, he hated the feeling that he'd made them all uncomfortable.
All of this was playing around and around in his mind as he watched the heat haze build slowly in the distance, blurring the horizon untill it was an imperceptable line of colour. God he was hot. But he was damned if he'd complain, or stop them all just to undo a silly mistake that he'd made on a whim.
Then, distant voices. Muffled sounds. Figures.
People.
Potential threats.
He put the wrench back into his stronger hand as Mae spoke again.
"We've got company" She said simply. He stopped with her, holding Shawn back by putting his hand in front of him.
"So... What do we want to do? I say we just go up there cautiously. No need to start any fights" He suggested quietly, wiping the blood off of the wrench with the inside of his sleeve. No need to give any bad impressions, after all.
[Sorry for the delay. Got burned out the other day. Should be much quicker from here on out.
All GMing approved.]
"...the fuck you just say?"
Marcus had been content to just sit and stare at this white boy, hoping that he'd evolve heat vision in the next five seconds and be capable of boring a hole through this idiots skull. But white boy here just had to go and fuck up. He fucked up in a way that, for a moment, Marcus didn't think was actually possible. But this fuck managed. He really was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saying the absolute worst things possible.
"What the fuck."
And Marcus took a step forward, finger pointed, jabbing the white boy in the chest.
"Did you just say?"
Oh, it was on. Marcus' short fuse has officially run out. Just as he went to open his mouth to shove his foot in a little further, Marcus balled up his fist and knocked Todd on his ass. Just one good hit to the jaw and Marcus sent that fucker to the ground. Now, in a fair fight, biscuit here might have had a chance. Not much of one, but a chance none the less. But Marcus was bigger, stronger, and a hell of a lot meaner.
"You want to know how that sounds to me? Huh? You really want to know what I think?"
And Marcus took a second to lean down, grab Todd's backpack, and tear it from him as hard as he could manage. Just to prove his point. Just to show the little biscuit child exactly what he thought about his idea.
"This right here is what I think."
With one good hard swing, Marcus hurled Todd's backpack toward the mouth of the pit. He made sure it went in. He made sure that little fucks belongings would fall down that pit and sink into the molten hell below. To be completely honest, Marcus wouldn't have minded throwing Todd himself into that pit, but for now the backpack would just have to do. He thought it was a nice gesture. He was sure it would get his point across nicely. But the temptation to turn this white boy into roast douche was still there, just momentarily satiated.
"That is what I think. Now why don't you take my advice and go chase after it, you dumb fuck."
Some well timed pointing and a satisfactory amount of spit lodged Todd's way and Marcus was more than satisfied, for now. Hell, he was even happy. It was nice to take out your frustrations on the nearest target. Now he remembered why he always got into fights. Sometimes, a fucker just needs to get his ass kicked before Marcus could be happy. Now if only he could find a couple more well deserving targets to take out some anger on. As for Todd, Marcus wasn't even going to bother anymore. He turned his back on the little biscuit child, made sure to kick his assigned weapon into the pit, and started to walk away. Fuck toys. Fuck games. Fuck those guys, Marcus was going home.
Here's just hoping Todd doesn't give Marcus reason to turn him into roast douche.
...Here's hoping.
All GMing approved.]
"...the fuck you just say?"
Marcus had been content to just sit and stare at this white boy, hoping that he'd evolve heat vision in the next five seconds and be capable of boring a hole through this idiots skull. But white boy here just had to go and fuck up. He fucked up in a way that, for a moment, Marcus didn't think was actually possible. But this fuck managed. He really was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saying the absolute worst things possible.
"What the fuck."
And Marcus took a step forward, finger pointed, jabbing the white boy in the chest.
"Did you just say?"
Oh, it was on. Marcus' short fuse has officially run out. Just as he went to open his mouth to shove his foot in a little further, Marcus balled up his fist and knocked Todd on his ass. Just one good hit to the jaw and Marcus sent that fucker to the ground. Now, in a fair fight, biscuit here might have had a chance. Not much of one, but a chance none the less. But Marcus was bigger, stronger, and a hell of a lot meaner.
"You want to know how that sounds to me? Huh? You really want to know what I think?"
And Marcus took a second to lean down, grab Todd's backpack, and tear it from him as hard as he could manage. Just to prove his point. Just to show the little biscuit child exactly what he thought about his idea.
"This right here is what I think."
With one good hard swing, Marcus hurled Todd's backpack toward the mouth of the pit. He made sure it went in. He made sure that little fucks belongings would fall down that pit and sink into the molten hell below. To be completely honest, Marcus wouldn't have minded throwing Todd himself into that pit, but for now the backpack would just have to do. He thought it was a nice gesture. He was sure it would get his point across nicely. But the temptation to turn this white boy into roast douche was still there, just momentarily satiated.
"That is what I think. Now why don't you take my advice and go chase after it, you dumb fuck."
Some well timed pointing and a satisfactory amount of spit lodged Todd's way and Marcus was more than satisfied, for now. Hell, he was even happy. It was nice to take out your frustrations on the nearest target. Now he remembered why he always got into fights. Sometimes, a fucker just needs to get his ass kicked before Marcus could be happy. Now if only he could find a couple more well deserving targets to take out some anger on. As for Todd, Marcus wasn't even going to bother anymore. He turned his back on the little biscuit child, made sure to kick his assigned weapon into the pit, and started to walk away. Fuck toys. Fuck games. Fuck those guys, Marcus was going home.
Here's just hoping Todd doesn't give Marcus reason to turn him into roast douche.
...Here's hoping.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Dr. Nic. 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.
OhshitWAIT!ThatsnotwhatImean!Ohcrapohjesushesgonnakillme!Ohfuckimsofreakingbonedrightnow!AAAGH!
Of course, Todd hadn't meant to seriously offend the almost six-foot muscular black man who stood before him. Sure, the word he just used to describe him happened to be an ethnic slur, but for a brief moment of stupidity Todd assumed that it would of been more friendly and informal to address him like that. After all, didn't they say the N-word all the time during rap songs and blaxploitation movies? Hell, even Quentin Tarantino was allowed to say it in Pulp Fiction without anyone complaining about it!
However, barely seconds after he'd said it, Todd realised how insanely dumb it was of him to say those words for three reasons. A: Todd wasn't black. B: Nor was he Quentin Tarantino. And C: This guy was quite possibly the last person on the entire planet who Todd wanted to piss off...
...Sadly, by the time he realised this, it was already far too late to do anything about it.
"Uh, well, actually..." Todd started, only to be suddenly and violently interrupted as Marcus' fist pounded him right in the face, throwing him head over heels and landing on the floor with a heavy thud. The moment of impact as his knuckles collided with Todd's brittle jaw was quite possibly the single most painful experience in the spoilt boy's life, especially seeing as the only fight Todd had ever been in before happened to be with some eight year old kid who snatched his handheld game when he was fourteen. And he didn't even WIN that fight for crying out loud!
He lay there on the ground for a moment, bells ringing in his head as he tried pitifully to regain his footing. He spat out some small object that had somehow found its way into his mouth, only to then realise that said object happened to be one of his molars. My tooth! Jesus Christ, he knocked my fuckin' tooth out!
"What the hell was that for?!?" He whined at Marcus, only to notice that the tall student wasn't listening to him. He was, however, in the middle throwing his bag into a great big bottomless hole in the ground.
Waitwaitwait-WHAT!?!
"No... Nonono, WAIT! DON'T-"
Too late. Before Todd could even stand up, Marcus had chucked the bag into the hole with all his might before turning his attention back to Todd so he could berate him a little more. Not that Todd heard what he had to say. He was far too concerned about the fact that his bag had just been thrown into a big freaking hole!
As soon as Marcus turned his back on Todd, the skinnier boy crawled over towards the hole, ignoring the intense heat as he peered over the edge to see if his bag was within reach. After all, from all he knew, the hole might of just been a couple of feet deep or something.
But no. It had to be a bottomless pit, didn't it? Well, nearly bottomless anyway. There was a red glow at the end of the tunnel which led Todd to suspect that his stuff was as good as gone.
Hel... He just threw my bag into a volcano! A mini FUCKING volcano! Oh shit, all my stuff was in that bag! My rations, gone! My map, gone! My gimp suit... GONE! ALL GONE!
At that point, Todd did exactly the same thing he always did whenever he felt frustrated...
...He whined.
"...What the FUCK man!!! What the fuck! Y-y-you just threw away all my stuff! Shit, how the hell am I gonna survive now! I've got no food, no spare clothes, NOTHING! You big dumb fuck! When my dad sees what you did to me, he's gonna go all Chuck Norris on you're ass! You'll see..."
He was beginning to regain his confidence now. With a huge shit-eating grin on his face, Todd got back onto his feet and dusted himself off, trying his best to give off the impression that he had the entire situation completely under control. Now it was HIS turn to start pointing fingers.
"...Yeah, thats right. Bet yah scared now, huh? My dad is one of the most powerful men in all of Texas. Bet you didn't know that, did ya? And I KNOW for a fact that sooner or later, he's gonna come along and get me off this freakin' rock! So the next time you hear a helicopter, you better keep an eye out for me as I lean out the window giving all you suckers the finger! And boy, am I gonna be laughing my ass off tomorrow morning when I turn on the TV to see some bigass hairy motherfucker shove his colossal dick, RIGHT UP YOUR FUCKING A-"
He stopped mid-rant as something caught his eye in the distance. Something that caused him to go deathly pale in the face. He couldn't tell any specific details, like who it was or what team they were on, but from what he COULD see it was painfully obvious how much shit he was in right now.
Not only did he have an angry black man to deal with, who at this point was probably even madder after his little rant, but he now had to contend with some guy aiming a crossbow at him.
It was at this point that Todd finally decided to do what he probably should have done the moment he realised Marcus wasn't on the same team as him... He ran, screaming like a little girl as he did so.
"OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT! You're all crazy, you know that?!? YOU'RE ALL FREAKING CRAZY!!!"
And, on that dignified note, Todd ran. Ran as far away as his skinny legs could manage, disappearing into the jungle without looking back for even a second.
He didn't even notice the brown stain that had appeared on the back of his pants.
((Todd Hudson continued in King of the Jungle))
Of course, Todd hadn't meant to seriously offend the almost six-foot muscular black man who stood before him. Sure, the word he just used to describe him happened to be an ethnic slur, but for a brief moment of stupidity Todd assumed that it would of been more friendly and informal to address him like that. After all, didn't they say the N-word all the time during rap songs and blaxploitation movies? Hell, even Quentin Tarantino was allowed to say it in Pulp Fiction without anyone complaining about it!
However, barely seconds after he'd said it, Todd realised how insanely dumb it was of him to say those words for three reasons. A: Todd wasn't black. B: Nor was he Quentin Tarantino. And C: This guy was quite possibly the last person on the entire planet who Todd wanted to piss off...
...Sadly, by the time he realised this, it was already far too late to do anything about it.
"Uh, well, actually..." Todd started, only to be suddenly and violently interrupted as Marcus' fist pounded him right in the face, throwing him head over heels and landing on the floor with a heavy thud. The moment of impact as his knuckles collided with Todd's brittle jaw was quite possibly the single most painful experience in the spoilt boy's life, especially seeing as the only fight Todd had ever been in before happened to be with some eight year old kid who snatched his handheld game when he was fourteen. And he didn't even WIN that fight for crying out loud!
He lay there on the ground for a moment, bells ringing in his head as he tried pitifully to regain his footing. He spat out some small object that had somehow found its way into his mouth, only to then realise that said object happened to be one of his molars. My tooth! Jesus Christ, he knocked my fuckin' tooth out!
"What the hell was that for?!?" He whined at Marcus, only to notice that the tall student wasn't listening to him. He was, however, in the middle throwing his bag into a great big bottomless hole in the ground.
Waitwaitwait-WHAT!?!
"No... Nonono, WAIT! DON'T-"
Too late. Before Todd could even stand up, Marcus had chucked the bag into the hole with all his might before turning his attention back to Todd so he could berate him a little more. Not that Todd heard what he had to say. He was far too concerned about the fact that his bag had just been thrown into a big freaking hole!
As soon as Marcus turned his back on Todd, the skinnier boy crawled over towards the hole, ignoring the intense heat as he peered over the edge to see if his bag was within reach. After all, from all he knew, the hole might of just been a couple of feet deep or something.
But no. It had to be a bottomless pit, didn't it? Well, nearly bottomless anyway. There was a red glow at the end of the tunnel which led Todd to suspect that his stuff was as good as gone.
Hel... He just threw my bag into a volcano! A mini FUCKING volcano! Oh shit, all my stuff was in that bag! My rations, gone! My map, gone! My gimp suit... GONE! ALL GONE!
At that point, Todd did exactly the same thing he always did whenever he felt frustrated...
...He whined.
"...What the FUCK man!!! What the fuck! Y-y-you just threw away all my stuff! Shit, how the hell am I gonna survive now! I've got no food, no spare clothes, NOTHING! You big dumb fuck! When my dad sees what you did to me, he's gonna go all Chuck Norris on you're ass! You'll see..."
He was beginning to regain his confidence now. With a huge shit-eating grin on his face, Todd got back onto his feet and dusted himself off, trying his best to give off the impression that he had the entire situation completely under control. Now it was HIS turn to start pointing fingers.
"...Yeah, thats right. Bet yah scared now, huh? My dad is one of the most powerful men in all of Texas. Bet you didn't know that, did ya? And I KNOW for a fact that sooner or later, he's gonna come along and get me off this freakin' rock! So the next time you hear a helicopter, you better keep an eye out for me as I lean out the window giving all you suckers the finger! And boy, am I gonna be laughing my ass off tomorrow morning when I turn on the TV to see some bigass hairy motherfucker shove his colossal dick, RIGHT UP YOUR FUCKING A-"
He stopped mid-rant as something caught his eye in the distance. Something that caused him to go deathly pale in the face. He couldn't tell any specific details, like who it was or what team they were on, but from what he COULD see it was painfully obvious how much shit he was in right now.
Not only did he have an angry black man to deal with, who at this point was probably even madder after his little rant, but he now had to contend with some guy aiming a crossbow at him.
It was at this point that Todd finally decided to do what he probably should have done the moment he realised Marcus wasn't on the same team as him... He ran, screaming like a little girl as he did so.
"OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT! You're all crazy, you know that?!? YOU'RE ALL FREAKING CRAZY!!!"
And, on that dignified note, Todd ran. Ran as far away as his skinny legs could manage, disappearing into the jungle without looking back for even a second.
He didn't even notice the brown stain that had appeared on the back of his pants.
((Todd Hudson continued in King of the Jungle))
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
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ThePureLight7*
- Posts: 32
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 8:00 pm
There's a certain human philosophy dictating that we as human beings go through a realm of common emotions. Happiness, sadness, highs, lows. There's a pattern in most peoples' lives that determines they will go through this emotional cycle many times. Skye, as a musically eclectic person, knew this cycle well. He knew that this knowledge was needed for songwriting.
Songs, especially in popular music, use this common set of shared emotions to connect with an audience. A song about love will become popular because many people feel this emotion often. A song about anger will be popular because many people feel angry a lot. A song about a man who calls a phone sex line and then laughs because he knows he's going to Hell for it will become popular because - let's be honest - every man has done this at least once.
Currently, Skye was experiencing one of these common human emotions. It's a perfect balance of excitement and fear. Most professional psychiatrists refer to this emotion as "adrenaline," but it's more commonly referred to as "oh shit, my guy just punched out that other guy and threw his backpack into a fucking volcano!"
Skye pulled his crossbow back into shooting position as his teammate turned around and started to walk away. But then, the boy on the ground started cussing him out. Does this kid have no survival knowledge at all? Skye asked himself.
Suddenly, as he was shouting, the boy turned and looked directly at Skye. Shit, Skye said to himself, backing up a little and straightening the crossbow, He spotted me. He appears to be unarmed though, I should be fi-...
Then, the boy started running. He was freaking out, as apparently the sight of a crossbow-wielding tough guy was too much for the little bastard.
Skye did what anyone would do in this situation. He let down the crossbow a little bit, and nearly burst into tears laughing.
Holy fucking shit! That is gold!* The little shit just fucking bolted! That is fucking priceless! I can't really blame him though... I'd probably do the same, too, if I were a chickenshit little wigga who's surrounded by two strong guys with a crossbow aimed at my head! Bahahahahahaha! Fuck! It's a fucking knee-slapper!
It was nice to have this momentary distraction from the fact that he would have to kill all of his friends. Others on the island would probably kill for the briefest opportunity to have all thoughts of pain and suffering absorbed by a spoiled rich kid whose been scared shitless by them with a crossbow.
Skye snapped back to reality soon enough. He turned upwards, held the crossbow more calmly, and quickly decided it would be best to gain the attention of his partner before something happened.
"Hey!" he said to the man in the distance, waving his free arm, "I'm on your team! Yellow, smiley-face!"
And the emotional cycle indicated that Skye was now in what is commonly known as a "smiley-face" mood. It couldn't last forever though.
*No pun intended.
Songs, especially in popular music, use this common set of shared emotions to connect with an audience. A song about love will become popular because many people feel this emotion often. A song about anger will be popular because many people feel angry a lot. A song about a man who calls a phone sex line and then laughs because he knows he's going to Hell for it will become popular because - let's be honest - every man has done this at least once.
Currently, Skye was experiencing one of these common human emotions. It's a perfect balance of excitement and fear. Most professional psychiatrists refer to this emotion as "adrenaline," but it's more commonly referred to as "oh shit, my guy just punched out that other guy and threw his backpack into a fucking volcano!"
Skye pulled his crossbow back into shooting position as his teammate turned around and started to walk away. But then, the boy on the ground started cussing him out. Does this kid have no survival knowledge at all? Skye asked himself.
Suddenly, as he was shouting, the boy turned and looked directly at Skye. Shit, Skye said to himself, backing up a little and straightening the crossbow, He spotted me. He appears to be unarmed though, I should be fi-...
Then, the boy started running. He was freaking out, as apparently the sight of a crossbow-wielding tough guy was too much for the little bastard.
Skye did what anyone would do in this situation. He let down the crossbow a little bit, and nearly burst into tears laughing.
Holy fucking shit! That is gold!* The little shit just fucking bolted! That is fucking priceless! I can't really blame him though... I'd probably do the same, too, if I were a chickenshit little wigga who's surrounded by two strong guys with a crossbow aimed at my head! Bahahahahahaha! Fuck! It's a fucking knee-slapper!
It was nice to have this momentary distraction from the fact that he would have to kill all of his friends. Others on the island would probably kill for the briefest opportunity to have all thoughts of pain and suffering absorbed by a spoiled rich kid whose been scared shitless by them with a crossbow.
Skye snapped back to reality soon enough. He turned upwards, held the crossbow more calmly, and quickly decided it would be best to gain the attention of his partner before something happened.
"Hey!" he said to the man in the distance, waving his free arm, "I'm on your team! Yellow, smiley-face!"
And the emotional cycle indicated that Skye was now in what is commonly known as a "smiley-face" mood. It couldn't last forever though.
*No pun intended.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler ThePureLight7. 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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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
Mae's eyes went wide as she watched the complete stranger of an African American boy throw the other slightly more recognizable white boy's pack into what seemed to be a volcano. She gasped a little but covered her mouth, terrified that she might be noticed. It was swiftly becoming the worst idea to go this way. The worst.
What if the boy noticed them? Well, it wasn't as though Mae didn't have a weapon or any such things. Swords seemed easy, you stick them with the pointy end and blades don't need reloading. She was ready.
But was she ready to kill? She cut her eyes over to Zach and knew for a fact that he was, so maybe she wouldn't necessarily have to...
That was an absolutely horrible train of thought that should be derailed. The heat must be getting to her. She lifted her braid off the back of her neck and fanned herself. Jeans were a bad choice, was it possible to use her katana to make them into shorts? Did that mean that she would have to take her pants off again?
Was that really a problem?
Yes. Yes it was.
It got worse, so much worse, when the boy started screaming and staring and yelling about craziness and running away. She had no idea what he could be looking at, but it got worse when she saw the familiar glint of a gold bandanna on him.
That was gold, she thought bitterly. Just gold.
It got even worse as she witnessed a boy with a crossbow join up with the Volcano boy. She turned and looked at her two companions. What should they do? Was it even worth talk to them? It was a touching team reunion....should they follow what seemed to be the absolute worst player in the game? Augh... for some reason she was operating under the assumption that the other people on her team would be functional.
She looked at Shawn and Zach expectantly. What were they going to do?
What if the boy noticed them? Well, it wasn't as though Mae didn't have a weapon or any such things. Swords seemed easy, you stick them with the pointy end and blades don't need reloading. She was ready.
But was she ready to kill? She cut her eyes over to Zach and knew for a fact that he was, so maybe she wouldn't necessarily have to...
That was an absolutely horrible train of thought that should be derailed. The heat must be getting to her. She lifted her braid off the back of her neck and fanned herself. Jeans were a bad choice, was it possible to use her katana to make them into shorts? Did that mean that she would have to take her pants off again?
Was that really a problem?
Yes. Yes it was.
It got worse, so much worse, when the boy started screaming and staring and yelling about craziness and running away. She had no idea what he could be looking at, but it got worse when she saw the familiar glint of a gold bandanna on him.
That was gold, she thought bitterly. Just gold.
It got even worse as she witnessed a boy with a crossbow join up with the Volcano boy. She turned and looked at her two companions. What should they do? Was it even worth talk to them? It was a touching team reunion....should they follow what seemed to be the absolute worst player in the game? Augh... for some reason she was operating under the assumption that the other people on her team would be functional.
She looked at Shawn and Zach expectantly. What were they going to do?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. 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.
[[Shawn Morrison Continued From: ...Brings Mae Flowers.]]
Shawn stayed quiet the whole time. Well not really, he kind of hummed a few tunes to himself a little bit, but other than that he was pretty quiet. They all were, during that quick hike they had through the rain forest. He just happened to be completely silent the moment the group went into a sudden and abrupt stop. Kind of an odd area to take a break considering how hot the temperature was in this spot, compared to the rest of the rain forest. No doubt they were near the hot spot now.
Zach ran forward from behind and placed an open hand in front of Shawn, like Diana Ross did for her one song. What was that called again?
So Shawn stopped. He yawned and put his hands behind his head, before leaning backward. He stretched a little more. Like his stepfather Renaud taught him. Still remaining silent. Shawn had to admit, even though he'd been lazy to learn it all, the tips from his yoga instructor step father proved to be very useful now. It was always, important to limber up when traveling, especially now on this island.
Mae had said they had company. There were some angry voices in the distance, Shawn could hear them. He walked pleasantly to Zach and Mae and took a look in the direction they were. Two guys argued a little. Shawn didn't recognize the darker guy, he must have been from that other school. The other guy, he couldn't really make out, who it was, due to the distance, but from his appearance and speech, Shawn knew the guy had to be from Silver Dragon Academy too.
"I say we just go up there cautiously. No need to start any fights." Zach had said to them both. Shawn blinked once, and then twice more after hearing that suggestion. He spoke up, calmly.
"Do we need to go up there at all...?" Shawn questioned simply.
"I mean... they aren't bothering us. I don't think they can even see us here. We wouldn't be starting fights, but looks like they already are..."
Shawn motioned to the Hot Spot, as the bigger boy, punched the smaller boy in the face. Then the bigger boy threw the smaller boy's bag into one of the lava pits.
It didn't stop there, however. The smaller guy, who was obviously not very smart, started yelling and insulting the bigger boy, before running off in fear. Shawn couldn't help but smile at the boy's misfortune. Schadenfreude, but Comedy Gold. Speaking of gold...
Sunlight glinted off of that boy's bandanna: Shiny. Which means... Awwww Maaaaaan.
Not soon after, another guy came by, another one Shawn didn't recognize, probably from that other school. He had the same colored bandanna as the bigger guy. They were team yellow. He had a crossbow.
Mae turned around to Zach and Shawn, looking at them both with concerned eyes.
"Those two are on the same team, and that other guy who yelled at them and ran away, was on the gold team with us, Mae. I don't think they'd welcome that kid's team-mates anytime soon." Shawn checked his watch. He was lucky to have worn it before getting abducted.
"He went back, from where we came from. Didn't see who it was, but that guy is still our team-mate, even if he was kinda dumb there. It'll eat up some time, but I think the right thing to do, is at least look for him."
Shawn was only talking to Mae now, really. He wasn't paying much attention to Zach who's jaw had probably dropped after seeing what had just happened after his suggestion.
"If we can't find him right away, then we'll just go back to our regularly scheduled excursion down the Resort Beach. What do you say?" Shawn said looking straight into Mae's eyes with a tiny smile.
Oh right, Zach was still there.
"Oh, Hey dude! Sorry, I forgot you were there..." Shawn ruffled his own hair again as he thought of what to say next.
"Um, you can still go up there and see what's up if you want. You aren't gold team, so you might be safe."
As soon as Shawn was done talking to Zach, he quickly turned back to Mae with another mild smile. It was obvious she was nervous now. He just wanted to do his best to keep her at ease. Hopefully the smile could calm her spirits. "If not, let's get moving, right?"
Shawn modestly offered his hand to Mae's.
Shawn stayed quiet the whole time. Well not really, he kind of hummed a few tunes to himself a little bit, but other than that he was pretty quiet. They all were, during that quick hike they had through the rain forest. He just happened to be completely silent the moment the group went into a sudden and abrupt stop. Kind of an odd area to take a break considering how hot the temperature was in this spot, compared to the rest of the rain forest. No doubt they were near the hot spot now.
Zach ran forward from behind and placed an open hand in front of Shawn, like Diana Ross did for her one song. What was that called again?
So Shawn stopped. He yawned and put his hands behind his head, before leaning backward. He stretched a little more. Like his stepfather Renaud taught him. Still remaining silent. Shawn had to admit, even though he'd been lazy to learn it all, the tips from his yoga instructor step father proved to be very useful now. It was always, important to limber up when traveling, especially now on this island.
Mae had said they had company. There were some angry voices in the distance, Shawn could hear them. He walked pleasantly to Zach and Mae and took a look in the direction they were. Two guys argued a little. Shawn didn't recognize the darker guy, he must have been from that other school. The other guy, he couldn't really make out, who it was, due to the distance, but from his appearance and speech, Shawn knew the guy had to be from Silver Dragon Academy too.
"I say we just go up there cautiously. No need to start any fights." Zach had said to them both. Shawn blinked once, and then twice more after hearing that suggestion. He spoke up, calmly.
"Do we need to go up there at all...?" Shawn questioned simply.
"I mean... they aren't bothering us. I don't think they can even see us here. We wouldn't be starting fights, but looks like they already are..."
Shawn motioned to the Hot Spot, as the bigger boy, punched the smaller boy in the face. Then the bigger boy threw the smaller boy's bag into one of the lava pits.
It didn't stop there, however. The smaller guy, who was obviously not very smart, started yelling and insulting the bigger boy, before running off in fear. Shawn couldn't help but smile at the boy's misfortune. Schadenfreude, but Comedy Gold. Speaking of gold...
Sunlight glinted off of that boy's bandanna: Shiny. Which means... Awwww Maaaaaan.
Not soon after, another guy came by, another one Shawn didn't recognize, probably from that other school. He had the same colored bandanna as the bigger guy. They were team yellow. He had a crossbow.
Mae turned around to Zach and Shawn, looking at them both with concerned eyes.
"Those two are on the same team, and that other guy who yelled at them and ran away, was on the gold team with us, Mae. I don't think they'd welcome that kid's team-mates anytime soon." Shawn checked his watch. He was lucky to have worn it before getting abducted.
"He went back, from where we came from. Didn't see who it was, but that guy is still our team-mate, even if he was kinda dumb there. It'll eat up some time, but I think the right thing to do, is at least look for him."
Shawn was only talking to Mae now, really. He wasn't paying much attention to Zach who's jaw had probably dropped after seeing what had just happened after his suggestion.
"If we can't find him right away, then we'll just go back to our regularly scheduled excursion down the Resort Beach. What do you say?" Shawn said looking straight into Mae's eyes with a tiny smile.
Oh right, Zach was still there.
"Oh, Hey dude! Sorry, I forgot you were there..." Shawn ruffled his own hair again as he thought of what to say next.
"Um, you can still go up there and see what's up if you want. You aren't gold team, so you might be safe."
As soon as Shawn was done talking to Zach, he quickly turned back to Mae with another mild smile. It was obvious she was nervous now. He just wanted to do his best to keep her at ease. Hopefully the smile could calm her spirits. "If not, let's get moving, right?"
Shawn modestly offered his hand to Mae's.
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
He watched as the white guy fell backwards, knocked on his ass by the black guy. There was some shouting, and then the guy got his bag burnt to a crisp in the volcano. He noticed a flash of gold as the guy ran away, as someone else, armed with a rifle came up to have a little chat with the black guy. All the while, Shawn was humming quietly in the background, like elevator music, endlessly looping. Then, finally, silence.
"Do we need to go up there at all...?" He opened his mouth to counteract that point, when he realised that there was completely no reason to go up there. Why had he said that? He ground his teeth for a moment. Stupid mistakes already? Something was going wrong. He wasnt thinking straight. He needed to stop making mistakes. Mistakes meant death on the island. He knew that better than most. He'd written a book on the mistakes people made here.
Actually, where was his book? He patted his back pockets, front pockets. Nothing.
Bastards, stealing his work. He made note of that and promised he'd add that to the little vent he'd have at the cameras later. Just bottle it up, screw the lid tight and throw it the hell away.
"He went back, from where we came from. Didn't see who it was, but that guy is still our team-mate, even if he was kinda dumb there. It'll eat up some time, but I think the right thing to do, is at least look for him."
Kinda dumb? Kinda Dumb? The dude that just insulted big black guy was kinda dumb? If that was kinda dumb, he had a light interest in SOTF.
And he was on their team? Jesus, did Mae not get any good team-mates? He was a liabillity at best! He should just remind them what game they were playing. Better to just leave him alone. That was condemning him to death, but the guy had easy out written all over him, in big bold letters.
Just like me
No, wrong. Zachariah Andross Johnston is no easy out, he asserted to himself. He knew all about this game.
Before he could doubt himself again, Shawn spoke once more; "If we can't find him right away, then we'll just go back to our regularly scheduled excursion down the Resort Beach. What do you say?"
He turned it over in his mind, considering piping up sand telling them exactly what he thought of playing hero. Then, he glanced over to Mae. Mae liked a hero. A good guy. That was why she liked Shawn, because he was a hero. If he played along, maybe she'd like him too? He groaned inwardly, knowing exactly how stupid this was. He should tell them how trying to save anyone was futile. It would just mean they'd have to kill them later.
He looked at Shawn, noticing the boy seemed to be thinking deeply to. Then he traced his eyeline to Mae and he shut his eyes for a few moments. He wasnt going to watch him have a moment with her. It was just more confirmation that he had failed. His eyes shot open when Shawn spoke again.
"Oh, Hey dude! Sorry, I forgot you were there..." He smiled, suddenly reminded as to why Shawn and he had been (And still were) friends. He was thoughtful and pretty cool in ways he just couldnt be. Also, funny.
"Dont worry 'bout it" He said.
He then told him that he'd be fine with him going to talk to the pissed off black guy and ranged weapon wielding dude and he smirked.
"Ha, no, dont think thats a good idea. I think Black guy has had enough assholes for one day." He said, casually putting himself down in an attempt to break down the thick atmosphere of tension and nervousness that they were under.
"If not, let's get moving, right?"
"Yeah, sounds good" He said, picking up his bag again. He tried not to notice that Shawn was offering his hand to Mae as he stood up, staring off into the distance in an attempt to avoid eye contact. It would be kind of awkward.
"Do we need to go up there at all...?" He opened his mouth to counteract that point, when he realised that there was completely no reason to go up there. Why had he said that? He ground his teeth for a moment. Stupid mistakes already? Something was going wrong. He wasnt thinking straight. He needed to stop making mistakes. Mistakes meant death on the island. He knew that better than most. He'd written a book on the mistakes people made here.
Actually, where was his book? He patted his back pockets, front pockets. Nothing.
Bastards, stealing his work. He made note of that and promised he'd add that to the little vent he'd have at the cameras later. Just bottle it up, screw the lid tight and throw it the hell away.
"He went back, from where we came from. Didn't see who it was, but that guy is still our team-mate, even if he was kinda dumb there. It'll eat up some time, but I think the right thing to do, is at least look for him."
Kinda dumb? Kinda Dumb? The dude that just insulted big black guy was kinda dumb? If that was kinda dumb, he had a light interest in SOTF.
And he was on their team? Jesus, did Mae not get any good team-mates? He was a liabillity at best! He should just remind them what game they were playing. Better to just leave him alone. That was condemning him to death, but the guy had easy out written all over him, in big bold letters.
Just like me
No, wrong. Zachariah Andross Johnston is no easy out, he asserted to himself. He knew all about this game.
Before he could doubt himself again, Shawn spoke once more; "If we can't find him right away, then we'll just go back to our regularly scheduled excursion down the Resort Beach. What do you say?"
He turned it over in his mind, considering piping up sand telling them exactly what he thought of playing hero. Then, he glanced over to Mae. Mae liked a hero. A good guy. That was why she liked Shawn, because he was a hero. If he played along, maybe she'd like him too? He groaned inwardly, knowing exactly how stupid this was. He should tell them how trying to save anyone was futile. It would just mean they'd have to kill them later.
He looked at Shawn, noticing the boy seemed to be thinking deeply to. Then he traced his eyeline to Mae and he shut his eyes for a few moments. He wasnt going to watch him have a moment with her. It was just more confirmation that he had failed. His eyes shot open when Shawn spoke again.
"Oh, Hey dude! Sorry, I forgot you were there..." He smiled, suddenly reminded as to why Shawn and he had been (And still were) friends. He was thoughtful and pretty cool in ways he just couldnt be. Also, funny.
"Dont worry 'bout it" He said.
He then told him that he'd be fine with him going to talk to the pissed off black guy and ranged weapon wielding dude and he smirked.
"Ha, no, dont think thats a good idea. I think Black guy has had enough assholes for one day." He said, casually putting himself down in an attempt to break down the thick atmosphere of tension and nervousness that they were under.
"If not, let's get moving, right?"
"Yeah, sounds good" He said, picking up his bag again. He tried not to notice that Shawn was offering his hand to Mae as he stood up, staring off into the distance in an attempt to avoid eye contact. It would be kind of awkward.
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
They really should get moving, and Mae stared at Shawn's outstretched hand for a moment. She was afraid of herself, afraid of what she might feel if she took it. Now still wasn't the time or the place for some sexual revolution, and that was partly the reason why she liked keeping Zach around. His devotion was chaste as far as she knew. Hell, she was pretty sure that he didn't want to ever touch her, just love her, and she took comfort in that. Sometimes looking at Shawn...it was like looking into a world that she knew existed but she couldn't picture herself ever living in.
She took his hand. The good kind of goosebumps crawled up her arms and across her collarbone, even in the heat. Mae tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that it hadn't happened, and looked to Zach.
"Yes, it does sound good. That kid might be kinda dumb, but he's also sort of on our team and I'd feel bad if he got himself up and killed before he met with us, you know?"
She squeezed Shawn's hand lightly, before setting off search for the boy. Parts unknown? Parts unknown, but she felt sort of gratified with her company, to say the least.
(Mae My-Middle-Name-Is-Actually-Embarrassing St. Clair Continued To: Kids ))
She took his hand. The good kind of goosebumps crawled up her arms and across her collarbone, even in the heat. Mae tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that it hadn't happened, and looked to Zach.
"Yes, it does sound good. That kid might be kinda dumb, but he's also sort of on our team and I'd feel bad if he got himself up and killed before he met with us, you know?"
She squeezed Shawn's hand lightly, before setting off search for the boy. Parts unknown? Parts unknown, but she felt sort of gratified with her company, to say the least.
(Mae My-Middle-Name-Is-Actually-Embarrassing St. Clair Continued To: Kids ))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. 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.