((OOC: This thread takes place on Day 3, and as such was given permission by Crash to take place while the Day 2 thread in this area finishes up))
(Daniel Kensrue continued from Conquistador)
DK had decided to spend the day and night in one of the several abandoned houses in the area of the residential area. Originally he wanted to get as far away from the house where all that shit had gone down but his knee started throbbing. Whenever this occured, Dan knew that without his knee brace, he'd have to rest it for a while if he wanted to last through the entire game.
He was woken by Danya's announcements. He didn't pay attention to any of the names. It really didn't matter to him. He was still safe and the area he was in was not a dangerzone. It felt strange to Dan that he was completely apathetic towards who the killers were and who their victims had been. Deep down, the only reason he could bring forward for this feeling was that if he met someone out there, he'd have a pretty good idea based on who they were, whether or not he could trust them and if he couldn't, there was always the nice Type 67 to get the truth out of people.
Moving from the safety of the house, DK made his way to the docks area. It was a pretty stupid idea to wander out from cover, but DK could see some small buildings around the area. Bait shops and fishing supply shops. His hope was that there would be some supplies. Some wire, hooks, anything that he could use to defend himself. Wire would be nice to rig up a makeshift alarm for wherever he chose to sleep and that was inspiration enough to move.
The docks were located at the bottom of a small hill with a very beaten dirt and gravel mix path. Dan made it down without running into anyone, though the site of footprints all around put him slightly on edge. Slowly he reached into his pack and withdrew the Type 67. If someone was watching him, they might be spooked off by the gun. Continuing on he spotted a small store. The windows were shattered and the door was dangling off of one hinge, but what caught DK's eyes was the worn out sign above the entrance.
C RL AN R KS BAIT SUPP S
The sign was well worn out, missing some letters, but the important part was still showing.
Bait.
He supposed the last word was supplies but that didn't matter. Any good bait shop would carry at least some form of wire.
Dan moved up to the door, lifting one side to make the door level, allowing him to swing it open. Stepping inside, his nostrils picked up a very faint hint of fish. For some reason a part of him liked that there was still a little bit of the old life of the shop still in it. Turning around, DK propped the door up again, trying to cover up his entry into the shop. Once he was satisfied, he began the search for supplies.
So Strange I Remember You
Private Thread
So Strange I Remember You
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
(Claire Lambert continued from Can't Fall Down)
Exhaustion.
It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. Being a runner, Claire was no stranger to lactic acid buildup. Her legs felt like anvils, and with each passing step she found less secure footing and significantly more cramping. Her mind, however, was racing far faster than her body - the latter was just doing its utmost to keep up.
For almost a day now, she'd been ducking and dodging across the island as fast as her legs would take her. Being more agile than her predator had its advantages; she would lose him fairly easily, and whenever she came across difficult terrain she managed to navigate it far more gracefully than the lumbering titan of a football player behind her could ever hope to. Unfortunately, however, her body had its limits. After shaking him off she'd be forced to stop and rest, and within a matter of minutes, the driven young man had spotted her again. And so the cycle continued for the better part of the second evening. No matter how much her body gave up on her, JJ Sturn's just wouldn't fucking quit.
"You just had to go and provoke him, didn't you? Well done, Dorothy. Only this time, Mr. Hamilton doesn't have a broom. He's got a bat, and a good fucking reason to use it."
The fact that she had a gun didn't really register in her mind. Her hands were shaking almost as much as her legs. Fear? Panic? The fact that she didn't actually want to be a murderer? She didn't have time to ponder exactly why she hadn't blown JJ's brains out already. All she knew was that she was better off as far away from him as possible.
"How'd the next part go? "I'll get you, my pretty!"? Right. Yeah. You're gonna look pretty with a cherry cheesecake for a face."
Hardly a pretty image. The docks at sunrise, though?
...nah, still pretty fucking scary at the moment.
Frenzied, Claire stumbled down the incline towards the planks, storming them with both fervor and trepidation. Her eyes raced across the shoreline, and suddenly her haven emerged from her peripheral vision, a gift from the gods.
Without time to think about the implications, the prey made her way towards the shelter of a nearby shack, bursting through the door without a second's hesitation, and running straight into a ferocious, hulking, somewhat sweaty smelling mammoth.
Exhaustion.
It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. Being a runner, Claire was no stranger to lactic acid buildup. Her legs felt like anvils, and with each passing step she found less secure footing and significantly more cramping. Her mind, however, was racing far faster than her body - the latter was just doing its utmost to keep up.
For almost a day now, she'd been ducking and dodging across the island as fast as her legs would take her. Being more agile than her predator had its advantages; she would lose him fairly easily, and whenever she came across difficult terrain she managed to navigate it far more gracefully than the lumbering titan of a football player behind her could ever hope to. Unfortunately, however, her body had its limits. After shaking him off she'd be forced to stop and rest, and within a matter of minutes, the driven young man had spotted her again. And so the cycle continued for the better part of the second evening. No matter how much her body gave up on her, JJ Sturn's just wouldn't fucking quit.
"You just had to go and provoke him, didn't you? Well done, Dorothy. Only this time, Mr. Hamilton doesn't have a broom. He's got a bat, and a good fucking reason to use it."
The fact that she had a gun didn't really register in her mind. Her hands were shaking almost as much as her legs. Fear? Panic? The fact that she didn't actually want to be a murderer? She didn't have time to ponder exactly why she hadn't blown JJ's brains out already. All she knew was that she was better off as far away from him as possible.
"How'd the next part go? "I'll get you, my pretty!"? Right. Yeah. You're gonna look pretty with a cherry cheesecake for a face."
Hardly a pretty image. The docks at sunrise, though?
...nah, still pretty fucking scary at the moment.
Frenzied, Claire stumbled down the incline towards the planks, storming them with both fervor and trepidation. Her eyes raced across the shoreline, and suddenly her haven emerged from her peripheral vision, a gift from the gods.
Without time to think about the implications, the prey made her way towards the shelter of a nearby shack, bursting through the door without a second's hesitation, and running straight into a ferocious, hulking, somewhat sweaty smelling mammoth.
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*Bang*
The door almost flew off its remaining hinge as a white-clad blur came bursting into the bait shop. DK had barely enough to turn and face the noise before the blur crashed into him. The only thing that kept him on his feet was the sheer size difference. What happened next was driven by pure instinct. DK tossed his bag over the counter nearby and used his non-pistol clad hand to lift the girl up. There was an intensity in DK's eyes as the girl struggled against his grip. She just wouldn't stop struggling against him.
"Fucking stop!" He growled as he swung his pistol around and pointed it right at the girl's temple.
He could feel the girl shiver. He wasn't sure if it was the situation or the gun but either way, Dan Kensrue wanted answers as to why this girl had decided to crash into him.
"Look at me."
He still couldn't tell who the girl was. She was refusing to look him in the eye and with the hair in her face, identification was proving difficult.
"For fuck sakes, I'm tired, sore, my glasses are dirty and I've just been rudely inter-fucking-rupted, now look at me so I know who the hell you are!"
There was a tone of authority in his voice. A tone he'd only ever used when he was on the ice. It was the tone that clearly let someone know he meant business; as if the gun pointed at the girl didn't already communicate that point.
Dan let the girl go, hoping it would help ease her nerves a bit. She brushed the hair out of her face, revealing herself as Claire Lambert.
Why can't I run into a girl who isn't a nerd, or basketcase, or bitch.
Claire was a prototypical Daddy's girl in Dan's eyes. She could go home, bat her eyelashes and her dad would probably buy her a corvette or something ridiculous. On top of that, she was a perfect little student too. She was a writer for the school paper too. It was probably more that DK didn't get most of her writing, but it still bothered him that she was well-known for writing.
"Alright," DK began, his tone clearly shifting to one of annoyance, "What in the blue name of Christ is going on? I've already had enough bad luck with women running into me in this fucking place, and I'm not exactly looking for company. Last time a girl approached me, she ended up dead. Did I do it, hell no I didn't, but the point stands. I'm a bit of bad luck for women. So Claire, I'd appreciate knowing the answer to my first question."
While he was talking, a thought popped into DK's head.
Hang on...I'm not that stupid am I? Someone who in that big of a rush that they run headlong into me has to be running from something or someone. I mean, Dan, you're a big guy. Not hard to miss.
"Hold up," Dan stopped his on-going speech to voice his recent thought, "You know what, fuck it. Forget everything I just said. It has occurred to me that you seemed to be in quite the damn panic when you burst into my store here. Who is with you Claire? Who is waiting outside that door to blow my brains out? No one runs like you just did without a damn good fucking reason to do so."
DK kept his pistol trained on Claire, while keeping an eye on the doorway. DK may have been a big ass brute, but he wasn't a total idiot.
The door almost flew off its remaining hinge as a white-clad blur came bursting into the bait shop. DK had barely enough to turn and face the noise before the blur crashed into him. The only thing that kept him on his feet was the sheer size difference. What happened next was driven by pure instinct. DK tossed his bag over the counter nearby and used his non-pistol clad hand to lift the girl up. There was an intensity in DK's eyes as the girl struggled against his grip. She just wouldn't stop struggling against him.
"Fucking stop!" He growled as he swung his pistol around and pointed it right at the girl's temple.
He could feel the girl shiver. He wasn't sure if it was the situation or the gun but either way, Dan Kensrue wanted answers as to why this girl had decided to crash into him.
"Look at me."
He still couldn't tell who the girl was. She was refusing to look him in the eye and with the hair in her face, identification was proving difficult.
"For fuck sakes, I'm tired, sore, my glasses are dirty and I've just been rudely inter-fucking-rupted, now look at me so I know who the hell you are!"
There was a tone of authority in his voice. A tone he'd only ever used when he was on the ice. It was the tone that clearly let someone know he meant business; as if the gun pointed at the girl didn't already communicate that point.
Dan let the girl go, hoping it would help ease her nerves a bit. She brushed the hair out of her face, revealing herself as Claire Lambert.
Why can't I run into a girl who isn't a nerd, or basketcase, or bitch.
Claire was a prototypical Daddy's girl in Dan's eyes. She could go home, bat her eyelashes and her dad would probably buy her a corvette or something ridiculous. On top of that, she was a perfect little student too. She was a writer for the school paper too. It was probably more that DK didn't get most of her writing, but it still bothered him that she was well-known for writing.
"Alright," DK began, his tone clearly shifting to one of annoyance, "What in the blue name of Christ is going on? I've already had enough bad luck with women running into me in this fucking place, and I'm not exactly looking for company. Last time a girl approached me, she ended up dead. Did I do it, hell no I didn't, but the point stands. I'm a bit of bad luck for women. So Claire, I'd appreciate knowing the answer to my first question."
While he was talking, a thought popped into DK's head.
Hang on...I'm not that stupid am I? Someone who in that big of a rush that they run headlong into me has to be running from something or someone. I mean, Dan, you're a big guy. Not hard to miss.
"Hold up," Dan stopped his on-going speech to voice his recent thought, "You know what, fuck it. Forget everything I just said. It has occurred to me that you seemed to be in quite the damn panic when you burst into my store here. Who is with you Claire? Who is waiting outside that door to blow my brains out? No one runs like you just did without a damn good fucking reason to do so."
DK kept his pistol trained on Claire, while keeping an eye on the doorway. DK may have been a big ass brute, but he wasn't a total idiot.
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
The large presence lifted her straight into the air, and Claire's heart promptly jumped straight out of its cardiac cage and into her larynx. This was fine by her, considering that whatever the hell just swept her off her feet (and not quite as romantically as she would have liked) was probably about to rip her apart, and her heart was most likely much safer in its new abode.
"Fucking stop!" the beast growled, but try as she might, her limbs continued to thrash. Her 'defensive' maneuvers weren't exactly helping, as somewhere between pounding on the creature's chest and scratching and clawing in random directions, she'd lost her gun in the struggle. The sound of metal clattered to the floor, and suddenly Claire became quite aware of the cold steely sensation pressed firmly against her temple.
"Look at me," it spoke.
It...spoke?
"For fuck's sake!..."
Claire's body fell limp, and suddenly she realized just how much of a bad decision running for almost a day straight had been. Adrenaline was clearly an antagonist to common sense. As she returned to the ground, her hand instinctively brushed her hair out of her face so that she could get a clear glance at exactly who the brick wall was that she'd run into.
Her eyes reached up towards Daniel Kensrue's, and found disappointment. Somehow it seemed she just couldn't avoid the damn jocks on this island. Teo, JJ, and now Dan? Really? What had she ever done to piss God off this much?
DK kept talking. Much like the other two jocks she'd already run into, she managed to find yet another who fucking talked too much. Claire wasn't exactly a quiet person, but she made a mental note to keep aware of her words and use them more wisely in the future. If this was how it felt to be on the receiving end of a jabberwocky, she'd have to make sure she didn't become (or remain) one.
The bit about the last girl he ran into turning up dead sounded remotely like a threat to her, but considering the position she found herself in she found herself unable to counter it. She could only hope DK hadn't noticed her gun fly through the room while he was busy restraining her. Then again, if he hadn't commented on it by now, chances were that it had gone unnoticed. Which didn't do her any favours, really, considering he had a shiny toy of his own.
"Who is with you, Claire?"
DK explained his rationale for interrogating her, and the last words out of his mouth were the first intelligent ones she'd heard (or bothered to hear) since his ranting had began. Still, she found herself at a sudden loss for-...
"...bear."
"What the fuck? Bear?"
The words escaped her lips before she had figured out a rhyme or reason for them. The fact that she'd just jumped into the arms of a vicious predator may have had something to do with it, but Claire was too distracted by her situation to realize that her way with words was subconsciously attempting to save her ass.
"I-I saw a bear, in the forest..." she improvised, and looked directly up into DK's face for effect. "So I bolted, and ran-...j-just ran. And before I knew it, I saw the water, and I figured it might not follow me here, so-..."
"Fucking stop!" the beast growled, but try as she might, her limbs continued to thrash. Her 'defensive' maneuvers weren't exactly helping, as somewhere between pounding on the creature's chest and scratching and clawing in random directions, she'd lost her gun in the struggle. The sound of metal clattered to the floor, and suddenly Claire became quite aware of the cold steely sensation pressed firmly against her temple.
"Look at me," it spoke.
It...spoke?
"For fuck's sake!..."
Claire's body fell limp, and suddenly she realized just how much of a bad decision running for almost a day straight had been. Adrenaline was clearly an antagonist to common sense. As she returned to the ground, her hand instinctively brushed her hair out of her face so that she could get a clear glance at exactly who the brick wall was that she'd run into.
Her eyes reached up towards Daniel Kensrue's, and found disappointment. Somehow it seemed she just couldn't avoid the damn jocks on this island. Teo, JJ, and now Dan? Really? What had she ever done to piss God off this much?
DK kept talking. Much like the other two jocks she'd already run into, she managed to find yet another who fucking talked too much. Claire wasn't exactly a quiet person, but she made a mental note to keep aware of her words and use them more wisely in the future. If this was how it felt to be on the receiving end of a jabberwocky, she'd have to make sure she didn't become (or remain) one.
The bit about the last girl he ran into turning up dead sounded remotely like a threat to her, but considering the position she found herself in she found herself unable to counter it. She could only hope DK hadn't noticed her gun fly through the room while he was busy restraining her. Then again, if he hadn't commented on it by now, chances were that it had gone unnoticed. Which didn't do her any favours, really, considering he had a shiny toy of his own.
"Who is with you, Claire?"
DK explained his rationale for interrogating her, and the last words out of his mouth were the first intelligent ones she'd heard (or bothered to hear) since his ranting had began. Still, she found herself at a sudden loss for-...
"...bear."
"What the fuck? Bear?"
The words escaped her lips before she had figured out a rhyme or reason for them. The fact that she'd just jumped into the arms of a vicious predator may have had something to do with it, but Claire was too distracted by her situation to realize that her way with words was subconsciously attempting to save her ass.
"I-I saw a bear, in the forest..." she improvised, and looked directly up into DK's face for effect. "So I bolted, and ran-...j-just ran. And before I knew it, I saw the water, and I figured it might not follow me here, so-..."
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(JJ Sturn continued from Can't Fall Down)
And he'd somehow managed to fuck it all up.
Beyond repair? No. Probably no. But he'd fucked it up nonetheless. He'd been given a blessing, the biggest possible blessing, a moment of good luck so fucking pure that JJ immediately took back everything nasty he'd ever said about the universe. Because Claire had been right there, standing right in front of him, which was what he'd wanted, which was the only thing he'd wanted, which was- and she'd even looked like she needed someone to protect her, how much of a happy coincidence was that? She'd been right there. And wouldn't that have been a great place for the story to just end? He found her. She stayed. He explained. She agreed. Fade to black. Happily ever after.
And yet that's not what happened, not at all. She'd started to run away and JJ had started to follow and for a while it'd looked like he could maybe catch up to her and maybe get close enough to call out and beg her to stop, maybe close enough to put a hand on her shoulder and just- maybe close enough to do anything to make her just stop running, just for one second, just please listen. Didn't work out like that. He'd lost her. And he'd found her again, but he'd lost her again, and it just kept fucking happening. Every time he saw even a glimpse of her, she'd be taking off again before he could even open his mouth. And he was tired, and he was pissed off, and he hadn't had a smoke in almost two days, and he was pissed off. And now he'd spent a whole fucking day chasing after her and never once getting her to listen to a word he tried to say, and she still probably thought that he was out to kill her, because he'd fucked up. Because he'd fucked up.
But not beyond repair.
Because every so often he still heard her running off in the distance- he swore heard her- it had to be her, it had to be her. And every so often he felt like he had to be really close again, that he'd peek behind a tree and see Claire one more time. And he'd do it right this time. And he'd make it right this time. Because he'd been doing it wrong: just trying to run up to her and keep up with her wasn't getting him anywhere, since she was faster and more agile than he was. And Christ, how did something like that happen? Wasn't JJ supposed to be a star athlete, wasn't he supposed to be the fucking man? Hmm. Maybe not.
So if he... if he changed his tactics up a bit, maybe he'd have a better chance of getting Claire to listen. Maybe try to actually work out a plan before he stumbled onto her next time. Maybe try to corner her, not let her get away again- Yes, JJ. Because every plan that starts with "If I could only back that defenseless girl into a corner to keep her from escaping" is a great plan. It's the kind of plan you should be making! Fucking hell. This was all bullshit, this was bullshit that he couldn't have gotten her to listen by now. She had to have heard him at some point? He had to have- well, JJ didn't quite remember his exact words, but he had to have blurted out some kind of I'm not gonna hurt you by now. Did she not hear that? Did she not believe him? Did she just not give a shit?
Hmm. Something to ponder. Something to ponder as he'd finally made it to the coast, to what looked like a dock. JJ swore he'd heard her just a little bit ago, just a little bit after that fucking asshole Danya had grabbed a mic again and made his shitty puns about kids dying. JJ realized he probably ought to be feeling, some kind of indignation that this fucker was laughing at murders so hard, but all he could bring himself to do was yawn and roll his eyes. You weren't funny the first time around, you pathetic sack of shit.
Right. Back to the docks. Back to the search that had to, just had to be coming to an end, just- wait, shit. The fuck was that? Did I just hear something? He had. He definitely had. Sounded like it was maybe coming from inside one of the buildings? Or... from behind one of them? Somewhere near. Sounded like a voice. Sounded so damn quiet, so he really couldn't make anything out, so- Fuck. Stop and listen. Listen. Anything? No, not this time. No more sounds. No matter how hard he tried to listen.
So do something, JJ Sturn. So implement whatever plan you came up with. You had a lot of time to come up with something, didn't you? And yet there was nothing in JJ's head besides that fucking stupid maybe I'll corner her! idea. Fuck, maybe- maybe if he did a stealthy sweep of all the buildings here, maybe if he checked them one by one from the outside, or if he tried to look through windows, or- fucking do something already if he found some back entrances, or if, maybe if
"Claire! CLAIRE! Are you out there?"
Well. Nice job.
And he'd somehow managed to fuck it all up.
Beyond repair? No. Probably no. But he'd fucked it up nonetheless. He'd been given a blessing, the biggest possible blessing, a moment of good luck so fucking pure that JJ immediately took back everything nasty he'd ever said about the universe. Because Claire had been right there, standing right in front of him, which was what he'd wanted, which was the only thing he'd wanted, which was- and she'd even looked like she needed someone to protect her, how much of a happy coincidence was that? She'd been right there. And wouldn't that have been a great place for the story to just end? He found her. She stayed. He explained. She agreed. Fade to black. Happily ever after.
And yet that's not what happened, not at all. She'd started to run away and JJ had started to follow and for a while it'd looked like he could maybe catch up to her and maybe get close enough to call out and beg her to stop, maybe close enough to put a hand on her shoulder and just- maybe close enough to do anything to make her just stop running, just for one second, just please listen. Didn't work out like that. He'd lost her. And he'd found her again, but he'd lost her again, and it just kept fucking happening. Every time he saw even a glimpse of her, she'd be taking off again before he could even open his mouth. And he was tired, and he was pissed off, and he hadn't had a smoke in almost two days, and he was pissed off. And now he'd spent a whole fucking day chasing after her and never once getting her to listen to a word he tried to say, and she still probably thought that he was out to kill her, because he'd fucked up. Because he'd fucked up.
But not beyond repair.
Because every so often he still heard her running off in the distance- he swore heard her- it had to be her, it had to be her. And every so often he felt like he had to be really close again, that he'd peek behind a tree and see Claire one more time. And he'd do it right this time. And he'd make it right this time. Because he'd been doing it wrong: just trying to run up to her and keep up with her wasn't getting him anywhere, since she was faster and more agile than he was. And Christ, how did something like that happen? Wasn't JJ supposed to be a star athlete, wasn't he supposed to be the fucking man? Hmm. Maybe not.
So if he... if he changed his tactics up a bit, maybe he'd have a better chance of getting Claire to listen. Maybe try to actually work out a plan before he stumbled onto her next time. Maybe try to corner her, not let her get away again- Yes, JJ. Because every plan that starts with "If I could only back that defenseless girl into a corner to keep her from escaping" is a great plan. It's the kind of plan you should be making! Fucking hell. This was all bullshit, this was bullshit that he couldn't have gotten her to listen by now. She had to have heard him at some point? He had to have- well, JJ didn't quite remember his exact words, but he had to have blurted out some kind of I'm not gonna hurt you by now. Did she not hear that? Did she not believe him? Did she just not give a shit?
Hmm. Something to ponder. Something to ponder as he'd finally made it to the coast, to what looked like a dock. JJ swore he'd heard her just a little bit ago, just a little bit after that fucking asshole Danya had grabbed a mic again and made his shitty puns about kids dying. JJ realized he probably ought to be feeling, some kind of indignation that this fucker was laughing at murders so hard, but all he could bring himself to do was yawn and roll his eyes. You weren't funny the first time around, you pathetic sack of shit.
Right. Back to the docks. Back to the search that had to, just had to be coming to an end, just- wait, shit. The fuck was that? Did I just hear something? He had. He definitely had. Sounded like it was maybe coming from inside one of the buildings? Or... from behind one of them? Somewhere near. Sounded like a voice. Sounded so damn quiet, so he really couldn't make anything out, so- Fuck. Stop and listen. Listen. Anything? No, not this time. No more sounds. No matter how hard he tried to listen.
So do something, JJ Sturn. So implement whatever plan you came up with. You had a lot of time to come up with something, didn't you? And yet there was nothing in JJ's head besides that fucking stupid maybe I'll corner her! idea. Fuck, maybe- maybe if he did a stealthy sweep of all the buildings here, maybe if he checked them one by one from the outside, or if he tried to look through windows, or- fucking do something already if he found some back entrances, or if, maybe if
"Claire! CLAIRE! Are you out there?"
Well. Nice job.
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The shakiness in Claire's voice was anything but convincing, however something registered in the back of DK's head. He distinctly remembered Danya mentioning that someone had already been killed by a resident bear on the island. Could Claire have really seen that bear?
Dammit.
If Dan Kensrue had one glaring fault about him it was his tendency to believe people, even when he knew they were feeding him a boldface lie. If it was truly plausible, Dan had been taught to not totally doubt what a person said.
DK gritted his teeth, his face contorting into visible frustration at the situation. He knew she was BSing him but there was a bear report.
With a touch of defeat in his voice, DK spoke, "Okay...Damn it Claire, I know this is going to come back and bite me in the ass. Keep your hands where I can fucking see them when I let you go. I want you to pick up your bag and get the fuck out of..."
DK was interrupted by a shout from outside.
"Claire! CLAIRE! Are you out there?"
There it was. The famous Kensrue family temper. His dad had it. His grandpa had it. The short fuse was well documented amongst the men of the Kensrue family, and a good majority of people out there knew not to flip the proverbial switch to ON. Claire Lambert had done just that. She had used DK's trusting nature and mocked it right to his face.
The expression of frustration quickly turned to one of anger.
"You lying little bitch!"
*WHACK*
A dull thud was all that heard as DK hit Claire across the face with his gun. The girl's body fell limply to the ground.
DK stepped over the girl and moved towards the door. Peering around the edges of the store he tried to make out who the person was calling for Claire. It didn't take long until the shape materialized into the form of JJ Sturn. He wasn't carrying a gun, so whatever his weapon was it must have been hidden. DK checked his pistol over, making sure it was ready. Loaded and safety off, DK moved outside.
"Sturn," He roared at the boy, "Did you really think it would be that easy?"
DK raised the pistol and pointed it straight at JJ's chest.
"You and that bitch really thought you could bait me like that?"
Dan's anger was rising. He felt so insulted at their little plan. Why him? Dan admitted he had no plans of killing anyone when he got to the island, but if this was the way it was going to go. If this was how people were going to play, trying to go around in teams offing one another, maybe Dan had to rethink his entire strategy about the game.
"Why me JJ? Why the hell, out of all the people that are still alive on the island would you pick me to try this on? What the fuck did I ever do to you," DK could feel his face flushing red, "I never did anything to either one of you people and yet Claire comes running into me like a damsel in defuckingstress trying to get me to trust her. Probably lure me out here where you can do the dirty work JJ. Why the hell was it me?"
DK was shaking with anger as his tirade went on, the gun was still pointed right at JJ Sturn's chest and from this ranged, Dan had little doubt about accuracy.
Dammit.
If Dan Kensrue had one glaring fault about him it was his tendency to believe people, even when he knew they were feeding him a boldface lie. If it was truly plausible, Dan had been taught to not totally doubt what a person said.
DK gritted his teeth, his face contorting into visible frustration at the situation. He knew she was BSing him but there was a bear report.
With a touch of defeat in his voice, DK spoke, "Okay...Damn it Claire, I know this is going to come back and bite me in the ass. Keep your hands where I can fucking see them when I let you go. I want you to pick up your bag and get the fuck out of..."
DK was interrupted by a shout from outside.
"Claire! CLAIRE! Are you out there?"
There it was. The famous Kensrue family temper. His dad had it. His grandpa had it. The short fuse was well documented amongst the men of the Kensrue family, and a good majority of people out there knew not to flip the proverbial switch to ON. Claire Lambert had done just that. She had used DK's trusting nature and mocked it right to his face.
The expression of frustration quickly turned to one of anger.
"You lying little bitch!"
*WHACK*
A dull thud was all that heard as DK hit Claire across the face with his gun. The girl's body fell limply to the ground.
DK stepped over the girl and moved towards the door. Peering around the edges of the store he tried to make out who the person was calling for Claire. It didn't take long until the shape materialized into the form of JJ Sturn. He wasn't carrying a gun, so whatever his weapon was it must have been hidden. DK checked his pistol over, making sure it was ready. Loaded and safety off, DK moved outside.
"Sturn," He roared at the boy, "Did you really think it would be that easy?"
DK raised the pistol and pointed it straight at JJ's chest.
"You and that bitch really thought you could bait me like that?"
Dan's anger was rising. He felt so insulted at their little plan. Why him? Dan admitted he had no plans of killing anyone when he got to the island, but if this was the way it was going to go. If this was how people were going to play, trying to go around in teams offing one another, maybe Dan had to rethink his entire strategy about the game.
"Why me JJ? Why the hell, out of all the people that are still alive on the island would you pick me to try this on? What the fuck did I ever do to you," DK could feel his face flushing red, "I never did anything to either one of you people and yet Claire comes running into me like a damsel in defuckingstress trying to get me to trust her. Probably lure me out here where you can do the dirty work JJ. Why the hell was it me?"
DK was shaking with anger as his tirade went on, the gun was still pointed right at JJ Sturn's chest and from this ranged, Dan had little doubt about accuracy.
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
"Claire! CLAIRE-..."
"Well, you're mighty fucked now!"
A furious scream preceded a powerful blow, and before Claire knew what hit her she had collapsed onto the floor.
Her head reeled, and for a moment she saw nothing but black. The chilly embrace of darkness petrified and confused her, and in her shaken state, she feared the worst. Was she unconscious? Was she blind? Was she just moments away from death?
...was she already dead?
Her finger twitched. A splinter from the wooden floor awakened her periphery, and with it she returned to her senses...cognitively, at least. Her head was throbbing. Her eyes felt like they were about to burst forth from their aqueous cage. Their re-adjustment to the minimal light of the dawn flooding the shed felt like being thrust face-first towards the front of a wind tunnel.
Despite the throbbing, Claire finally managed to squint. The blob on the ground in front of her looked vaguely like her pack, but try as she might, she couldn't see her gun. The fact that she'd lost it before the fall didn't register in her mind - her thoughts were too scattered to make sense of. Something was telling her that she needed that gun.
"You...bitch...!...Who the...?"
Voices.
So, she wasn't in a wind tunnel after all. She was still in that rank shed with the ogre who-...
"Hit you in the fucking face!"
With a new wave of pain came the revelation of how she'd ended up in her hazy state to begin with. Another voice was talking now (it was probably JJ, but she couldn't make out the difference in pitch at the moment), which helped ground Claire somewhat. Her situation had gotten desperate. There were now two titans after her, both out for blood. Her blood. She wasn't sure quite how she'd gotten into this situation (rather, she was entirely sure, but her memory was currently failing her), but somehow avoiding JJ for the entirety of the past day had landed her in an even worse predicament.
Pushing herself off the ground, Claire managed to get to her knees, almost in a sprinting position. She was facing the door for some reason, most likely as a result of the fall, and she immediately caught sight of DK with a gun in his hand pointed towards whoever he was talking to in the distance. Had she been thinking straight, her rational side would advise her to let him shoot JJ and save her the trouble. Having one two-hundred-something pound man after her was enough hassle, let alone two. Being pistol whipped didn't exactly render somebody rational, though.
It pissed them the fuck off.
With her legs working faster than her brain could keep up with, Claire propelled herself through the vertigo, screaming incoherently as she bull-tackled the hockey player's legs. Through some force of nature she managed to send DK toppling over, and the pair careened into the ground together. He'd landed awkwardly on his side, and his gun had come out of his grip with the fall, on the side opposite to her.
Still slightly dazed, Claire recovered her footing and got back up to her knees, with DK's body right in front of her. She clutched furiously at the part of his shirt closest to her and, with sizeable momentum, drove her knee firmly into his abdomen. As he recoiled, her attention shifted quickly to his pistol some feet away and, oblivious to JJ's presence, she began to quickly scramble across the ground towards it.
"Well, you're mighty fucked now!"
A furious scream preceded a powerful blow, and before Claire knew what hit her she had collapsed onto the floor.
Her head reeled, and for a moment she saw nothing but black. The chilly embrace of darkness petrified and confused her, and in her shaken state, she feared the worst. Was she unconscious? Was she blind? Was she just moments away from death?
...was she already dead?
Her finger twitched. A splinter from the wooden floor awakened her periphery, and with it she returned to her senses...cognitively, at least. Her head was throbbing. Her eyes felt like they were about to burst forth from their aqueous cage. Their re-adjustment to the minimal light of the dawn flooding the shed felt like being thrust face-first towards the front of a wind tunnel.
Despite the throbbing, Claire finally managed to squint. The blob on the ground in front of her looked vaguely like her pack, but try as she might, she couldn't see her gun. The fact that she'd lost it before the fall didn't register in her mind - her thoughts were too scattered to make sense of. Something was telling her that she needed that gun.
"You...bitch...!...Who the...?"
Voices.
So, she wasn't in a wind tunnel after all. She was still in that rank shed with the ogre who-...
"Hit you in the fucking face!"
With a new wave of pain came the revelation of how she'd ended up in her hazy state to begin with. Another voice was talking now (it was probably JJ, but she couldn't make out the difference in pitch at the moment), which helped ground Claire somewhat. Her situation had gotten desperate. There were now two titans after her, both out for blood. Her blood. She wasn't sure quite how she'd gotten into this situation (rather, she was entirely sure, but her memory was currently failing her), but somehow avoiding JJ for the entirety of the past day had landed her in an even worse predicament.
Pushing herself off the ground, Claire managed to get to her knees, almost in a sprinting position. She was facing the door for some reason, most likely as a result of the fall, and she immediately caught sight of DK with a gun in his hand pointed towards whoever he was talking to in the distance. Had she been thinking straight, her rational side would advise her to let him shoot JJ and save her the trouble. Having one two-hundred-something pound man after her was enough hassle, let alone two. Being pistol whipped didn't exactly render somebody rational, though.
It pissed them the fuck off.
With her legs working faster than her brain could keep up with, Claire propelled herself through the vertigo, screaming incoherently as she bull-tackled the hockey player's legs. Through some force of nature she managed to send DK toppling over, and the pair careened into the ground together. He'd landed awkwardly on his side, and his gun had come out of his grip with the fall, on the side opposite to her.
Still slightly dazed, Claire recovered her footing and got back up to her knees, with DK's body right in front of her. She clutched furiously at the part of his shirt closest to her and, with sizeable momentum, drove her knee firmly into his abdomen. As he recoiled, her attention shifted quickly to his pistol some feet away and, oblivious to JJ's presence, she began to quickly scramble across the ground towards it.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Crash. 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.
It was all going so well...
The voice of Clive Owen made it's way through DK's head as he felt the impact against his bad knee. The force toppled him to the ground where DK instinctively grabbed on to his knee with both hands trying to mask the pain. He gave his knee a twist in his hands and heard the satisfying pop, letting him know everything was back in place, allowing him to get up and beat this bitch into the ground.
DK's last sentiment would prove difficult as instead of beginning to rise up from the fall, he felt the force of a bony knee driven straight into his stomach area.
"Fuck!" He gasped as he rolled over in pain.
Rolling back over to try and rise once again, DK's eyes widened with a mix of horror and fury. Claire was going for his gun which had fallen. This would be the ultimate insult to the big man. Tackled by a small girl, then killed with his own gun. Not a situation Dan was looking to make happen.
Fighting through the pain of inhaling breath, DK rose to his knees and launched himself at the scrambling girl. Bad knee or no bad knee, one thing a lot of people always underestimated about DK was his overall leg strength. He was able to cover the distance needed and then some. His whole body weight came crashing down on the small girl. Quickly, Dan swatted her outstretched arms away from the gun, then using his massive size advantage, muscled Claire into a pinned position facing up. DK quickly drove his forearm under the girl's chin as he used the other arm to reach and retrieve his pistol.
He brought the pistol barrel in front of Claire once again.
"Big...fucking...mistake."
The voice of Clive Owen made it's way through DK's head as he felt the impact against his bad knee. The force toppled him to the ground where DK instinctively grabbed on to his knee with both hands trying to mask the pain. He gave his knee a twist in his hands and heard the satisfying pop, letting him know everything was back in place, allowing him to get up and beat this bitch into the ground.
DK's last sentiment would prove difficult as instead of beginning to rise up from the fall, he felt the force of a bony knee driven straight into his stomach area.
"Fuck!" He gasped as he rolled over in pain.
Rolling back over to try and rise once again, DK's eyes widened with a mix of horror and fury. Claire was going for his gun which had fallen. This would be the ultimate insult to the big man. Tackled by a small girl, then killed with his own gun. Not a situation Dan was looking to make happen.
Fighting through the pain of inhaling breath, DK rose to his knees and launched himself at the scrambling girl. Bad knee or no bad knee, one thing a lot of people always underestimated about DK was his overall leg strength. He was able to cover the distance needed and then some. His whole body weight came crashing down on the small girl. Quickly, Dan swatted her outstretched arms away from the gun, then using his massive size advantage, muscled Claire into a pinned position facing up. DK quickly drove his forearm under the girl's chin as he used the other arm to reach and retrieve his pistol.
He brought the pistol barrel in front of Claire once again.
"Big...fucking...mistake."
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
Silence. Silence. Muffled voices inside one of the houses, like- fuck, JJ couldn't actually tell what was being said or who was saying it, and then a sound like- oh Christ, was that- fuck, there wasn't any time for determining what the sound was because the door, someone was coming out- Claire? It had to be Claire, didn't it? Finally giving in and admitting that JJ maybe deserved one chance, maybe deserved ten seconds to explain his sorry ass before she started effortlessly outrunning him again? Yes? Maybe?
Daniel fucking Kensrue, with a gun in his hand and a pissy little wannabe angry look on his face. You have got to be fucking kidding me. DK was probably the last person in the world JJ wanted to see at that moment- not because he held any particular grudge against DK, but because Claire was first and everyone else was in a neat little tie for last. Seriously? JJ had... fuck, he'd been so close, he'd honestly thought that Claire was about to open the door and welcome him in with something vaguely resembling open arms. Instead, DK was pointing a gun at his chest.
And... well. And spouting off some self-pitying delusional emo bullshit about how the world was out to get him, some fucking nonsense about JJ and some "bitch" (who?) being part of a team formed specifically to persecute him, like... Christ. Grow the fuck up, DK. Maybe- just maybe!- your shitty situation has a reasonable explanation. One that doesn't require JJ answering your pathetic Why me? questions. So JJ decided that, soon as he could, he was gonna tell DK just how immature and ridiculous he sounded. Hey, worth a shot, right? JJ had had pretty good luck so far on the island, as far as mouthing off to people holding him at gunpoint went. If it'd worked on Harold, might as well try it out on DK, so here goes.
Except DK kept on talking. And he mentioned a certain name.
Claire? Claire's in there? Claire's the bi- oh Christ, he did NOT just call Claire a bitch. Fortunately enough, the steadily building thoughts of rage got cut off by laughter. Seriously? DK thought that Claire and JJ were part of a team? Did this fucking monkey just not pay any attention to anything? Yeah, Claire and JJ are real tight! They're real tight and they're both plotting to kill you because they're such a solid team! Watch out, though, watch your back because all three Fiamettas are about to sneak through the window and blow your head off from behind! This is a deadly fucking fighting force, this team of JJ Sturn and the people who love him most in the world!
JJ couldn't help but let a wry smile reach his face, which... to be honest, it probably made him look like a smug prick. Which probably made DK want to shoot him even more badly. So maybe it was a blessing when JJ started to realize the following: Wait, Claire's in there- DK thinks she's his enemy- I heard a sound like a big thump just a bit ago- I haven't heard Claire since DK opened the door- oh no. Oh fuck no fuck no fuck no. Smug smile gave way to barely concealed rage. To not-so-concealed rage.
"DK, if you could just sideline the stupid fucking delusions of persecution for just a moment and fucking tell me what the fuck you did to Claire, I would a-"
Oh, there she was. Coming out of nowhere and tackling him at the knee. That made sense, then. No biggie, DK! If she's doing okay enough to take you down to the ground, then we're cool. JJ wanted to open his mouth and say something to Claire- God knew he shouldn't go around wasting what might be his one chance, but then... but then. But then it all just happened so fast. Eyes closed and eyes opened and DK was about to kill her and- it was just a blink, just a fucking blink, I swear to God all I did was blink once!- suddenly everything was very very bad.
This was, in all likelihood, the part where JJ was about to get himself shot.
Eh. Worse things could happen.
So that's when JJ Sturn decided to tackle DK off Claire and start beating on the man with absolutely everything he had.
Daniel fucking Kensrue, with a gun in his hand and a pissy little wannabe angry look on his face. You have got to be fucking kidding me. DK was probably the last person in the world JJ wanted to see at that moment- not because he held any particular grudge against DK, but because Claire was first and everyone else was in a neat little tie for last. Seriously? JJ had... fuck, he'd been so close, he'd honestly thought that Claire was about to open the door and welcome him in with something vaguely resembling open arms. Instead, DK was pointing a gun at his chest.
And... well. And spouting off some self-pitying delusional emo bullshit about how the world was out to get him, some fucking nonsense about JJ and some "bitch" (who?) being part of a team formed specifically to persecute him, like... Christ. Grow the fuck up, DK. Maybe- just maybe!- your shitty situation has a reasonable explanation. One that doesn't require JJ answering your pathetic Why me? questions. So JJ decided that, soon as he could, he was gonna tell DK just how immature and ridiculous he sounded. Hey, worth a shot, right? JJ had had pretty good luck so far on the island, as far as mouthing off to people holding him at gunpoint went. If it'd worked on Harold, might as well try it out on DK, so here goes.
Except DK kept on talking. And he mentioned a certain name.
Claire? Claire's in there? Claire's the bi- oh Christ, he did NOT just call Claire a bitch. Fortunately enough, the steadily building thoughts of rage got cut off by laughter. Seriously? DK thought that Claire and JJ were part of a team? Did this fucking monkey just not pay any attention to anything? Yeah, Claire and JJ are real tight! They're real tight and they're both plotting to kill you because they're such a solid team! Watch out, though, watch your back because all three Fiamettas are about to sneak through the window and blow your head off from behind! This is a deadly fucking fighting force, this team of JJ Sturn and the people who love him most in the world!
JJ couldn't help but let a wry smile reach his face, which... to be honest, it probably made him look like a smug prick. Which probably made DK want to shoot him even more badly. So maybe it was a blessing when JJ started to realize the following: Wait, Claire's in there- DK thinks she's his enemy- I heard a sound like a big thump just a bit ago- I haven't heard Claire since DK opened the door- oh no. Oh fuck no fuck no fuck no. Smug smile gave way to barely concealed rage. To not-so-concealed rage.
"DK, if you could just sideline the stupid fucking delusions of persecution for just a moment and fucking tell me what the fuck you did to Claire, I would a-"
Oh, there she was. Coming out of nowhere and tackling him at the knee. That made sense, then. No biggie, DK! If she's doing okay enough to take you down to the ground, then we're cool. JJ wanted to open his mouth and say something to Claire- God knew he shouldn't go around wasting what might be his one chance, but then... but then. But then it all just happened so fast. Eyes closed and eyes opened and DK was about to kill her and- it was just a blink, just a fucking blink, I swear to God all I did was blink once!- suddenly everything was very very bad.
This was, in all likelihood, the part where JJ was about to get himself shot.
Eh. Worse things could happen.
So that's when JJ Sturn decided to tackle DK off Claire and start beating on the man with absolutely everything he had.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Jonny. 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.
((OOC: Forgot to mention earlier that all the GMing you see between the three handlers was approved and all that good stuff.))
((IC))
DK was about to pull the trigger. He was about to end this girl right there on the unforgiving ground of the area, but he hesitated. Something about the utter look of fear in Claire Lambert's eyes caused DK to hesistate. A million different thoughts rushed through his head. Did he want to go down in history as a killer? What would his family think? Could he just get off the girl and leave? What if she told people he attacked her? Where did he put his bread and water?
Lost in his thoughts for a split-second, Dan Kensrue forgot that there was another person. A boy who he had just been pointing a gun at seconds ago. DK remembered that the boy was still there and he remembered hard. He felt JJ's shoulder bury itself into his own, as JJ's arms wrapped around Dan's torso. The force removed DK from the girl beneath him. The two boys ended in a position where JJ was on top of DK raining down punches at DK's head.
Dan was trying his best to turtle up and avoid the damage, hoping JJ would tire himself out. It was something his Jiujitsu instructor had taught him. If you can actively defend yourself without exterting a lot of energy, or taking good amounts of damage, just weather the storm. Your opening will come. That opening did come. JJ reared his body back again in preparation of throwing more punches, but this time he took a second to take a deep breath. That was all DK needed. DK reached up from his bottom position and grabbed a hold of JJ's arm. Dan spun his hips slightly so that he was now flat on his back. He then threw his legs up around JJ's head and shoulders, pulling JJ's right arm through the hole created. Dan had him. He locked his ankles together behind JJ's head, and began squeezing with his legs. He then placed his hands behind JJ's head, closed his eyes and began to pull down with everything he could muster. Somewhere back in St. Paul, Minnesota, Dan Kensrue's Jiujitsu instructor watched with a smile, as his student had just executed a textbook triangle choke.
((IC))
DK was about to pull the trigger. He was about to end this girl right there on the unforgiving ground of the area, but he hesitated. Something about the utter look of fear in Claire Lambert's eyes caused DK to hesistate. A million different thoughts rushed through his head. Did he want to go down in history as a killer? What would his family think? Could he just get off the girl and leave? What if she told people he attacked her? Where did he put his bread and water?
Lost in his thoughts for a split-second, Dan Kensrue forgot that there was another person. A boy who he had just been pointing a gun at seconds ago. DK remembered that the boy was still there and he remembered hard. He felt JJ's shoulder bury itself into his own, as JJ's arms wrapped around Dan's torso. The force removed DK from the girl beneath him. The two boys ended in a position where JJ was on top of DK raining down punches at DK's head.
Dan was trying his best to turtle up and avoid the damage, hoping JJ would tire himself out. It was something his Jiujitsu instructor had taught him. If you can actively defend yourself without exterting a lot of energy, or taking good amounts of damage, just weather the storm. Your opening will come. That opening did come. JJ reared his body back again in preparation of throwing more punches, but this time he took a second to take a deep breath. That was all DK needed. DK reached up from his bottom position and grabbed a hold of JJ's arm. Dan spun his hips slightly so that he was now flat on his back. He then threw his legs up around JJ's head and shoulders, pulling JJ's right arm through the hole created. Dan had him. He locked his ankles together behind JJ's head, and began squeezing with his legs. He then placed his hands behind JJ's head, closed his eyes and began to pull down with everything he could muster. Somewhere back in St. Paul, Minnesota, Dan Kensrue's Jiujitsu instructor watched with a smile, as his student had just executed a textbook triangle choke.
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
Claire's fingertips reached her metallic savior, but were soon swept back towards her by the force of the lumbering giant. She was quickly flipped upwards and struggling to breathe, as DK's forearm pressed straight against her larynx, forcing an audible hoarse gasp from the defenseless girl.
The gun she was hoping would save her was now pointed directly at her face.
"Big...fucking...mistake."
Claire closed her eyes. It was over. When push came to shove, there was nothing she could do while the talking jockstrap had her arms pinned to the ground and a gun to her head. Her sympathetic nervous system had failed her. Her body was paralyzed, and with each agonizing second that Dan beared his full weight against her throat, she could feel her senses slipping away from her. But as she struggled to gasp for just one vital breath, the nagging voice in the back of her head couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't yet taken a bullet to the face...
Within an instant, DK's forearm was thrust away from her throat and up into her chin as the boy came crashing down beside her. Her head recoiled and thudded against the soft earth behind her, prompting her to instinctively raise her arms upward in a protective position over her face. She quickly opened her eyes, and from her peripheral vision came the saving grace of JJ Sturn delivering many swift punches to Daniel Kensrue's face.
"He's punching...Dan?"
Claire's arms lowered themselves reflexively to her sides as she rolled away from the two boys, taking a moment to cast a cursory glance back at them as she steadied herself against the ground. Shouldn't JJ have just let Dan finish her off? Perhaps delivered a few swift box shots to the source of the dying feminist's power-source, that had clearly been the source of her rejection of him in the first place? Better yet, why hadn't he just grabbed the gun and-...?
"Grab..."
Claire's eyes darted towards JJ, whose favour had now been turned against him. DK's quick, uncharacteristic movements had quickly changed the tide of the battle. The man who - as much as Claire hated to admit it - was responsible for her even being able to produce these thoughts right now, was now under siege.
"...it..."
Her breath came in ragged gasps as her trachea opened back up, swallowing indulgent boluses of oxygen. Her feet steadied themselves beneath her, and her knees extended as she stood up to see JJ's face turning a pale shade of blue.
"GRAB THE FUCKING GUN!"
A quick dash and an impromptu and unnecessary dive later, Claire's fingers closed around the barrel of the pistol, and her arms quickly re-adjusted themselves as she repositioned herself on her knees. She could no longer see JJ, which prompted her to instinctively level the gun towards DK's head. The fact that she was saving the man who she'd just spent a day running from hadn't really crossed her mind...
...its impact was shunted by the fact that the guy who'd just tried to kill her was now strangling her makeshift knight in shining armour.
Determined and steadfast, Claire exhaled to steady her shaking arms, and squeezed the trigger twice.
Somewhere in St. Paul, Minnesota, Daniel Kensrue's mother was screaming.
The gun she was hoping would save her was now pointed directly at her face.
"Big...fucking...mistake."
Claire closed her eyes. It was over. When push came to shove, there was nothing she could do while the talking jockstrap had her arms pinned to the ground and a gun to her head. Her sympathetic nervous system had failed her. Her body was paralyzed, and with each agonizing second that Dan beared his full weight against her throat, she could feel her senses slipping away from her. But as she struggled to gasp for just one vital breath, the nagging voice in the back of her head couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't yet taken a bullet to the face...
Within an instant, DK's forearm was thrust away from her throat and up into her chin as the boy came crashing down beside her. Her head recoiled and thudded against the soft earth behind her, prompting her to instinctively raise her arms upward in a protective position over her face. She quickly opened her eyes, and from her peripheral vision came the saving grace of JJ Sturn delivering many swift punches to Daniel Kensrue's face.
"He's punching...Dan?"
Claire's arms lowered themselves reflexively to her sides as she rolled away from the two boys, taking a moment to cast a cursory glance back at them as she steadied herself against the ground. Shouldn't JJ have just let Dan finish her off? Perhaps delivered a few swift box shots to the source of the dying feminist's power-source, that had clearly been the source of her rejection of him in the first place? Better yet, why hadn't he just grabbed the gun and-...?
"Grab..."
Claire's eyes darted towards JJ, whose favour had now been turned against him. DK's quick, uncharacteristic movements had quickly changed the tide of the battle. The man who - as much as Claire hated to admit it - was responsible for her even being able to produce these thoughts right now, was now under siege.
"...it..."
Her breath came in ragged gasps as her trachea opened back up, swallowing indulgent boluses of oxygen. Her feet steadied themselves beneath her, and her knees extended as she stood up to see JJ's face turning a pale shade of blue.
"GRAB THE FUCKING GUN!"
A quick dash and an impromptu and unnecessary dive later, Claire's fingers closed around the barrel of the pistol, and her arms quickly re-adjusted themselves as she repositioned herself on her knees. She could no longer see JJ, which prompted her to instinctively level the gun towards DK's head. The fact that she was saving the man who she'd just spent a day running from hadn't really crossed her mind...
...its impact was shunted by the fact that the guy who'd just tried to kill her was now strangling her makeshift knight in shining armour.
Determined and steadfast, Claire exhaled to steady her shaking arms, and squeezed the trigger twice.
Somewhere in St. Paul, Minnesota, Daniel Kensrue's mother was screaming.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Crash. 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.
((OOC: Since everyone knows my love of music, I think this song is pretty appropriate for both DK's death, as well as JJ and Claire's story. I hope you enjoy both this post and the music. Hurricane - 30 Seconds to Mars))
DK was pulling with every bit of strength he could muster. He had JJ completely locked down in the hold despite JJ doing everything he could to squirm and try to fight out of it. With each passing second, Dan could feel less and less being put into JJ's struggle. It would only be seconds now until JJ was out cold and Dan could get up and get the hell away from the docks.
It would only be seconds...
DK's eyes flashed wide open at the first muffled bang. This was followed by an intense burning and tearing of his flesh as the bullet buried itself deep into his shoulder. Dan turned his head in the direction of the shot. It was like something out of a movie. Dan's focus was immediately drawn to small flash. It was like time slowed down as the bullet traveled towards Dan. It seemed like he would have enough time to react and pull off something from the Matrix, but no. This was the real world. That was a real bullet heading straight for him; and a split-second later that same very real bullet travelled straight through Dan's bespectacled right eye and into his skull.
Dan's body went limp and the blood began to slowly trickle and pool beneath his head and shoulder area. His body lay on the ground, remaining eye staring straight up into the bright blue sky. It was not how he would have pictured himself going out. If anything, Dan wanted to die being someone's hero. He wanted to know that he died fighting for someone. He may have been an abrasive asshole, but he did try and do well where he could. He had planned to avoid conflict like the one he'd just found himself in. He had planned to be smarter than he turned out to be. Twice within five minutes he had forgotten about his second opponent. The first time he'd managed to salvage it, this second time had cost him.
The blood began to run down the gravel and dirt path towards the water.
Back home in St. Paul, his parents were staring at the screen where there son lay, still grasping the other boy. They were praying that he would miraculously rise up and yell, "GOTCHA!". As the moments went by, they came to the realization that it wasn't going to happen. Their son had been stricken down by his own classmates. While Dan's mother cried into his Dad's shoulder, his Dad couldn't help but wonder why his son hesitated when he was about to kill the Lambert girl. Something had stopped his son.
If DK had been able to speak, instead of lying dead on the ground, he could have explained it quite clearly. He couldn't go through with it. In that split second looking down at the girl beneath him and seeing the true fear in her eyes, he knew he wouldn't pull the trigger. The world may have been against him. People may have hated him, but Dan Kensrue knew that wasn't who he was.
The silence that followed at the docks was deafening in a way. Though it wasn't the way he wanted to die, if DK could have seen what his death was about to bring about, he may have died a little more happy and a little less hungry.
B059 - Daniel Kensrue - Eliminated
DK was pulling with every bit of strength he could muster. He had JJ completely locked down in the hold despite JJ doing everything he could to squirm and try to fight out of it. With each passing second, Dan could feel less and less being put into JJ's struggle. It would only be seconds now until JJ was out cold and Dan could get up and get the hell away from the docks.
It would only be seconds...
DK's eyes flashed wide open at the first muffled bang. This was followed by an intense burning and tearing of his flesh as the bullet buried itself deep into his shoulder. Dan turned his head in the direction of the shot. It was like something out of a movie. Dan's focus was immediately drawn to small flash. It was like time slowed down as the bullet traveled towards Dan. It seemed like he would have enough time to react and pull off something from the Matrix, but no. This was the real world. That was a real bullet heading straight for him; and a split-second later that same very real bullet travelled straight through Dan's bespectacled right eye and into his skull.
Dan's body went limp and the blood began to slowly trickle and pool beneath his head and shoulder area. His body lay on the ground, remaining eye staring straight up into the bright blue sky. It was not how he would have pictured himself going out. If anything, Dan wanted to die being someone's hero. He wanted to know that he died fighting for someone. He may have been an abrasive asshole, but he did try and do well where he could. He had planned to avoid conflict like the one he'd just found himself in. He had planned to be smarter than he turned out to be. Twice within five minutes he had forgotten about his second opponent. The first time he'd managed to salvage it, this second time had cost him.
The blood began to run down the gravel and dirt path towards the water.
Back home in St. Paul, his parents were staring at the screen where there son lay, still grasping the other boy. They were praying that he would miraculously rise up and yell, "GOTCHA!". As the moments went by, they came to the realization that it wasn't going to happen. Their son had been stricken down by his own classmates. While Dan's mother cried into his Dad's shoulder, his Dad couldn't help but wonder why his son hesitated when he was about to kill the Lambert girl. Something had stopped his son.
If DK had been able to speak, instead of lying dead on the ground, he could have explained it quite clearly. He couldn't go through with it. In that split second looking down at the girl beneath him and seeing the true fear in her eyes, he knew he wouldn't pull the trigger. The world may have been against him. People may have hated him, but Dan Kensrue knew that wasn't who he was.
The silence that followed at the docks was deafening in a way. Though it wasn't the way he wanted to die, if DK could have seen what his death was about to bring about, he may have died a little more happy and a little less hungry.
B059 - Daniel Kensrue - Eliminated
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
So. A lot of things had just happened within a very short span of time, hadn't they. And one of them in particular stood out as making absolutely no sense.
There was a time when JJ would have finished that thought with Namely, JJ Sturn lost a fight! Because that just didn't make any sense, right? No, fuck that. JJ had gotten his ass kicked enough times by now to realize that he wasn't quite invincible. The real head-scratcher here was that he was still alive (while we're on the topic of not feeling invincible). Claire had a gun, that was for sure. And she'd just fired it twice, that was for sure. But not at him. At DK. At the other guy. The one who hadn't been chasing her for a solid day now.
How the fuck did that make sense?
JJ sat himself down and gawked in Claire's general direction for a few seconds. This was a gesture of courtesy. He was telling her, though not in so many words, that Are you sure you weren't aiming for me? If you were, I'm still here! And it's totally cool, you can give it another go if you'd like! And then Claire would laugh a bit and say Right! My bad! and pop a few rounds into JJ while he gave her a thumbs-up.
That didn't happen. No matter how intensely he gawked, that didn't happen. He was alive, JJ Sturn was alive, and he was alive because Claire Lambert had saved his life. And he- right before, there'd been DK with the gun pointed at her, about to pull the trigger so he- saved her life too, did he? Maybe? Maybe giving himself a little too much credit, but... maybe also kinda true? So putting all this shit in chronological order, he'd chased her across murder island for a whole day, he'd saved her life, and she'd saved his life. And now she wasn't shooting him.
What the fuck do you say to something like that?
Because in between a series of gasps and coughs and wheezes (which tends to happen after you've nearly been choked out, no matter how hard you want to look like you're a badass), JJ started to figure that Claire might in fact be waiting for him to say something. Well, what was it gonna be?
Maybe ask her why the fuck I'm still alive? No, no, no. Well, he sure as hell wanted to find out, but it seemed like a bit of a crass thing to ask. And ran the risk of reminding her that she didn't actually have a reason. If she wanted to tell him why she'd saved his life, she'd do it eventually. Maybe point out that she just shot a man dead? Noooooooooo, not gonna touch that one. Maybe just thank her. Okay, this was getting on the right track now. But it still felt weird, and it still felt like... like he wouldn't really be sure what exactly he was thanking her for. Or again, that she would respond with a But you have nothing to thank me for! and then a Click bang bang.
Maybe say you're sorry. Hah, there ya go. Fucking bingo. Because to cut past all the bullshit, to step back from all this confusion and this ever-present fear of getting this, this was all on him. She'd shot DK. Why? Because DK was strangling her. Why? Because DK got freaked the fuck out. Why? Because Claire and JJ had both shown up at his house. Why? Because JJ had been chasing Claire.
This was on him. Time to man up to that.
"Claire, I... I'm so sorry. Chasing you around like that, I- I put you in danger, I almost got you killed... that wasn't what I wanted. That was never what I wanted. But it's what happened. So I... this is my fault, and I'm so so sorry."
That was a start.
There was a time when JJ would have finished that thought with Namely, JJ Sturn lost a fight! Because that just didn't make any sense, right? No, fuck that. JJ had gotten his ass kicked enough times by now to realize that he wasn't quite invincible. The real head-scratcher here was that he was still alive (while we're on the topic of not feeling invincible). Claire had a gun, that was for sure. And she'd just fired it twice, that was for sure. But not at him. At DK. At the other guy. The one who hadn't been chasing her for a solid day now.
How the fuck did that make sense?
JJ sat himself down and gawked in Claire's general direction for a few seconds. This was a gesture of courtesy. He was telling her, though not in so many words, that Are you sure you weren't aiming for me? If you were, I'm still here! And it's totally cool, you can give it another go if you'd like! And then Claire would laugh a bit and say Right! My bad! and pop a few rounds into JJ while he gave her a thumbs-up.
That didn't happen. No matter how intensely he gawked, that didn't happen. He was alive, JJ Sturn was alive, and he was alive because Claire Lambert had saved his life. And he- right before, there'd been DK with the gun pointed at her, about to pull the trigger so he- saved her life too, did he? Maybe? Maybe giving himself a little too much credit, but... maybe also kinda true? So putting all this shit in chronological order, he'd chased her across murder island for a whole day, he'd saved her life, and she'd saved his life. And now she wasn't shooting him.
What the fuck do you say to something like that?
Because in between a series of gasps and coughs and wheezes (which tends to happen after you've nearly been choked out, no matter how hard you want to look like you're a badass), JJ started to figure that Claire might in fact be waiting for him to say something. Well, what was it gonna be?
Maybe ask her why the fuck I'm still alive? No, no, no. Well, he sure as hell wanted to find out, but it seemed like a bit of a crass thing to ask. And ran the risk of reminding her that she didn't actually have a reason. If she wanted to tell him why she'd saved his life, she'd do it eventually. Maybe point out that she just shot a man dead? Noooooooooo, not gonna touch that one. Maybe just thank her. Okay, this was getting on the right track now. But it still felt weird, and it still felt like... like he wouldn't really be sure what exactly he was thanking her for. Or again, that she would respond with a But you have nothing to thank me for! and then a Click bang bang.
Maybe say you're sorry. Hah, there ya go. Fucking bingo. Because to cut past all the bullshit, to step back from all this confusion and this ever-present fear of getting this, this was all on him. She'd shot DK. Why? Because DK was strangling her. Why? Because DK got freaked the fuck out. Why? Because Claire and JJ had both shown up at his house. Why? Because JJ had been chasing Claire.
This was on him. Time to man up to that.
"Claire, I... I'm so sorry. Chasing you around like that, I- I put you in danger, I almost got you killed... that wasn't what I wanted. That was never what I wanted. But it's what happened. So I... this is my fault, and I'm so so sorry."
That was a start.
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DK's glasses shattered, and with an enormous thud against the unforgiving earth, Claire had exacted her revenge. The guy who'd smacked her across the face was now dead.
Dead. As in, he would never get up again. He'd never breathe, or eat, or smile, or laugh, or hit another woman, or hug his parents, or graduate, or get married, or have children.
Dead. As in, no longer alive.
Dead.
Claire lost her balance and toppled backwards, landing on her butt. She stared, wide-eyed, as blood oozed from beneath Dan's broken spectacles, which had now slid halfway down his face and were hanging awkwardly off the bridge of his nose. Aside from the sounds of JJ hacking and coughing, the area was eerie. Silent. Quiet. And yet, never in such silence had such an epiphany occurred. Five minutes ago she'd been running from the guy now gasping for air mere meters away from her, and now Claire Lambert was a harbringer of death. A murderer. The exact thing she swore to herself she wouldn't...couldn't, do. She had, unfortunate as it was, proven herself wrong.
"He went after you first. It was only self-defense."
Bullshit. Conscience or not, nothing could justify the fact that she'd retaliated against a blow to the face with a bullet. Two bullets. What the fuck had she been thinking? Something had told her, instinctually, that shooting Dan was the only correct thing to do at that moment. But-...
The sputtering began to die down, and JJ's head peaked above DK's corpse. His colour was starting to return, but his lips and cheeks were still cyanotic. In that moment, however, the young woman had come to terms with her motivation. It was that face. The blue, pale, ghastly look of JJ Sturn had beckoned her to help him. Despite her misgivings about him, seeing him strangled and tortured had been too much for her to bear...especially when his attacker had also attacked her, too.
Not to mention the fact that JJ had saved her ass.
Nothing made sense. The man she thought was out for her blood had saved her life, and she had just murdered somebody she never had anything against. Clearly, that methodology underscored exactly what Survival of the Fittest stood for. There was no logic or reason on the island, only insanity and death. Which clearly meant that the only two choices Claire had to hold onto were sanity and life...right?
Claire blinked. JJ, now uncharacteristically quiet, was staring at her. She tightened her grip on the gun in her hand unconsciously, but made no effort to threaten him.
"I'm so sorry," he began. Claire's guard dropped.
"I almost got you killed...that wasn't what I wanted. That was never what I wanted."
"Then what were you running from?"
Claire's cheeks were wet.
"I'm so, so sorry..."
The tears were falling, but she made no sound. Her hand lowered itself to the ground and steadied her, and her welling eyes gazed back towards the man she thought she had figured out just minutes before.
"Then what...do you want?" she choked out, unable to keep her voice from wavering. JJ's face maintained a soft, calm exposure, despite having just been brushed with death. He'd presented her with a side of himself she had never seen...compassion. She couldn't understand.
Dead. As in, he would never get up again. He'd never breathe, or eat, or smile, or laugh, or hit another woman, or hug his parents, or graduate, or get married, or have children.
Dead. As in, no longer alive.
Dead.
Claire lost her balance and toppled backwards, landing on her butt. She stared, wide-eyed, as blood oozed from beneath Dan's broken spectacles, which had now slid halfway down his face and were hanging awkwardly off the bridge of his nose. Aside from the sounds of JJ hacking and coughing, the area was eerie. Silent. Quiet. And yet, never in such silence had such an epiphany occurred. Five minutes ago she'd been running from the guy now gasping for air mere meters away from her, and now Claire Lambert was a harbringer of death. A murderer. The exact thing she swore to herself she wouldn't...couldn't, do. She had, unfortunate as it was, proven herself wrong.
"He went after you first. It was only self-defense."
Bullshit. Conscience or not, nothing could justify the fact that she'd retaliated against a blow to the face with a bullet. Two bullets. What the fuck had she been thinking? Something had told her, instinctually, that shooting Dan was the only correct thing to do at that moment. But-...
The sputtering began to die down, and JJ's head peaked above DK's corpse. His colour was starting to return, but his lips and cheeks were still cyanotic. In that moment, however, the young woman had come to terms with her motivation. It was that face. The blue, pale, ghastly look of JJ Sturn had beckoned her to help him. Despite her misgivings about him, seeing him strangled and tortured had been too much for her to bear...especially when his attacker had also attacked her, too.
Not to mention the fact that JJ had saved her ass.
Nothing made sense. The man she thought was out for her blood had saved her life, and she had just murdered somebody she never had anything against. Clearly, that methodology underscored exactly what Survival of the Fittest stood for. There was no logic or reason on the island, only insanity and death. Which clearly meant that the only two choices Claire had to hold onto were sanity and life...right?
Claire blinked. JJ, now uncharacteristically quiet, was staring at her. She tightened her grip on the gun in her hand unconsciously, but made no effort to threaten him.
"I'm so sorry," he began. Claire's guard dropped.
"I almost got you killed...that wasn't what I wanted. That was never what I wanted."
"Then what were you running from?"
Claire's cheeks were wet.
"I'm so, so sorry..."
The tears were falling, but she made no sound. Her hand lowered itself to the ground and steadied her, and her welling eyes gazed back towards the man she thought she had figured out just minutes before.
"Then what...do you want?" she choked out, unable to keep her voice from wavering. JJ's face maintained a soft, calm exposure, despite having just been brushed with death. He'd presented her with a side of himself she had never seen...compassion. She couldn't understand.
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A coughing fit. There is your answer, Claire. You ask him that one simple question- what do you want?- and you give him the chance to explain himself, finally the chance he's been waiting for all this time, for so damn long so damn long. The whole fucking time on the island and, fuck's sake, even before then, all the way back to that night at Subway, he'd just wanted to tell her what did he want. And now all he can do is start coughing his lungs out again, left hand gripping his chest, little wrinkles on his shirt and labored breathing when he's done. That is how JJ's big moment went.
"Wanted to... help you out. Maybe keep you safe, maybe let you have some supplies or just some advice or... anything. Wanted to make a better second impression than my first, I guess." That sounded terrible. "Wanna make things right."
Make things right. That's plural. Things. All of them. All of them were wrong, owing to a set of titanically stupid and heartless decisions, and now... the way he'd treated Claire, the way he'd scared the fuck out of her back at the Subway and now here on the island, was one of the many parts of his life that he so desperately wanted to fix. One of the sadly-less-than-few that he still could fix, owing partially to his now just-a-bit-limited lifespan and partially to the fact that some of these problems really had no intention of letting themselves get fixed. Put Rosa in Claire's shoes right now and JJ would already be dead and gone.
But that wasn't it, was it? You're just one in a long list of fuckups I've perpetrated and am now trying to make up for. It was a charming line, sure, it'd make all the girls weak in the knees, but it wasn't really the truth. Wasn't even close. Claire was different, Claire was special. He'd known that for a long time, and it was probably a big part of why he'd made a total ass of himself in the first place. So no running away from that, okay JJ? You promise? Good.
"Claire, the first time we met, I was... I was shitfaced, I had no idea what 'no' meant, I was probably scaring the fuck out of anyone halfway reasonable within a mile of that Subway. And that's not something I can forgive myself for till I... make it right. And you get to decide how I- how I even start to do that. You wanna never see me again, say the word and I'm gone. You want me to throw myself at an army of murderers so you can be safe, I'll do it. I can fucking take those pussies."
The last sentence there was a joke, please realize it was a joke, please realize JJ doesn't actually believe that about himself. Anymore.
"So you can... tell me what I ought to do, and I'll do it. I owe it to you. And a whole lot more."
White knuckles, a bit of a nervous tremble. There was the fear, there was the very real fear, that she wasn't going to believe him, that she was just going to tell him to fuck off and leave her alone, that he'd never get to make things right with her (saving her life didn't count because she'd saved his life right back), that she'd just be the first of many to tell JJ that they weren't fucking interested in his help and his charity and his fucking bullshit redemption quest so he could just die in a fucking corner.
No, no, not just the first of many. Because Claire was different. Claire was special.
Remember?
"Wanted to... help you out. Maybe keep you safe, maybe let you have some supplies or just some advice or... anything. Wanted to make a better second impression than my first, I guess." That sounded terrible. "Wanna make things right."
Make things right. That's plural. Things. All of them. All of them were wrong, owing to a set of titanically stupid and heartless decisions, and now... the way he'd treated Claire, the way he'd scared the fuck out of her back at the Subway and now here on the island, was one of the many parts of his life that he so desperately wanted to fix. One of the sadly-less-than-few that he still could fix, owing partially to his now just-a-bit-limited lifespan and partially to the fact that some of these problems really had no intention of letting themselves get fixed. Put Rosa in Claire's shoes right now and JJ would already be dead and gone.
But that wasn't it, was it? You're just one in a long list of fuckups I've perpetrated and am now trying to make up for. It was a charming line, sure, it'd make all the girls weak in the knees, but it wasn't really the truth. Wasn't even close. Claire was different, Claire was special. He'd known that for a long time, and it was probably a big part of why he'd made a total ass of himself in the first place. So no running away from that, okay JJ? You promise? Good.
"Claire, the first time we met, I was... I was shitfaced, I had no idea what 'no' meant, I was probably scaring the fuck out of anyone halfway reasonable within a mile of that Subway. And that's not something I can forgive myself for till I... make it right. And you get to decide how I- how I even start to do that. You wanna never see me again, say the word and I'm gone. You want me to throw myself at an army of murderers so you can be safe, I'll do it. I can fucking take those pussies."
The last sentence there was a joke, please realize it was a joke, please realize JJ doesn't actually believe that about himself. Anymore.
"So you can... tell me what I ought to do, and I'll do it. I owe it to you. And a whole lot more."
White knuckles, a bit of a nervous tremble. There was the fear, there was the very real fear, that she wasn't going to believe him, that she was just going to tell him to fuck off and leave her alone, that he'd never get to make things right with her (saving her life didn't count because she'd saved his life right back), that she'd just be the first of many to tell JJ that they weren't fucking interested in his help and his charity and his fucking bullshit redemption quest so he could just die in a fucking corner.
No, no, not just the first of many. Because Claire was different. Claire was special.
Remember?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Jonny. 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.