Life always seemed very weird to me. Like how when the amount of people who knew my name increased consequently the amount of people who knew me decreased, eventually it came down to the point where no one on this planet knew me and I simply stood alone in my car smoking cigarettes and receiving oral sex from the girls that just knew my name, I never really felt bad as her tongue wrapped around my cock and then how I later left a twenty in her pocket and told her to leave. It wasn't necessary to feel bad about it, life was just like that. You're always getting fucked by (literally and figuratively) by people you don't know. So for me it was really no surprise that in my tenth grade year I ended up getting fucked over by life itself and ended up being thrown into the Survival of the Fittest program. It truly was no surprise that fate would have it that I would be a player in this game, I mean it was obvious by the shotgun tied onto my bag, the people in charge had obviously recognized me as Jonathan Michaels and intended for me to be some benevolent force, you know raping, pillaging, possible cock slapping, all the good stuff.
So the question that rose was simple, did I try my best to struggle against fate or did I simply adjust myself to make good on all it's demands, those demands being that I Jonathan Michaels from the day that I was born was doomed to fight in numerous battles against insurmountable odds and win. That fate had intended me to do this, to even come into life was remarkable, I the youngest child out of five, my mother standing at 5'9" and my father standing at 6'2", I was destined to be their first unhealthy baby, I was coincidently destined to be the only one to ever succeed. All of my brothers had eventually wasted away to become junkes, all of my brothers where currently in some sort of junkie house playing Jenga and wasting away their life.
And I, the one who managed to quit cocaine and the various drugs I was on was destined to go into a school that was destined, since the time it was created, to be sent to Survival of the Fittest. Do I simply let fate win out? Or do I rather desperately fight it off in a match that I was doomed to fail? The last thing I wanted to do was just stand here asking myself questions that are mostly comprised of psychological philosophical bullshit, but I just can't seem to stop doing it. I suppose I should just stop prolonging the inevitable and go out fighting, even if I do in fact lose this match I go out with the satisfaction that I never gave up, that I never just sat by and be a spectator in this, I would assure myself to meet all expectations everyone had for me and exceed them.
If anything I'll at least get an HBO special out of my death...
Jonathan Michaels sat alone as these thoughts rocketed through his head, with the bag on his side and the shotgun strap lying haphazardly on his shoulder, he almost seemed like he was mocking the game, the relaxed look he had has he sat there thinking out his next move like some sort of chess champion was surely something to be in awe by, however the peaceful aura of stillness disappeared when Jonathan got up, seemingly satisfied in the decision he had come to; that decision being that he would indeed take part in Survival of the Fittest. There really was no point in fighting against it like some naïve child. Jonathan would play this game alone, why even bother making allies, it only served to drive you insane when they eventually die...in fact, none of the final four from last SOTF had survived with their teammates...it truly was a hopeless existence to fight everything out with them, truly ignorance at its best.
Sometimes I feel
Like I don't have a partner
However, one person would prevent Jonathan Michaels from simply surviving this game, one person would ruin Jonathan's chances of simply living off the land and surviving as necessary, and that one person went by the name of Chad Lobo Munteanu. Chad had not had the security in being a boxing champion that had allowed Jonathan to sit and ponder his actions; Chad's plan was a simple one: run and remain hidden.
Imagine his surprise when he went into a clearing and saw the featherweight champion of the world standing right in front of him with a shotgun, imagine, if you will, how a 90 lb geek would react to seeing what could be described as one of the most powerful fighters in the world right there in front of him. And once again, imagine how Jonathan Michaels felt, how he felt that fate had betrayed him again, had decided to test him on his promise to play the game.
Jonathan's eyes widened has he looked at the boy and his body tensed and he closed his eyes and prepared to speak.
"Look man, get away from me." Jonathan said quietly. Chad however just stared at him, and a big smile appeared across his face, as got closer to Jonathan and gave Jonathan a gigantic hug.
"Dude, you aren't going to kill me! Great! Can I stay with you man! I'm really a tiny guy and I'm going to need help, don't worry I am a people person so I can likely get us more allies from Franklyn, like this girl Whitney Acosta. Yeah she's in my homeroom, got tits the size of..."
Chad however didn't get to complete his sentence as Jonathan cut him off.
"I really don't care about this girl and her tits." Jonathan said, rather uncomfortable with this boy hugging him, yet not wanting to push the kid off him out of fear of breaking the guy in half...that would be a messier kill than he ever wanted to deal with, he really didn't intend to kill this kid, just send him on his merry way.
Chad looked at the guy and then slowly let him go.
"Umm...well this is awkward. I mean, it's not awkward that you're gay and all; it's just awkward that I thought you where straight, I mean it really is no big deal. I'm down with the Queer Eye guys despite what my hair says, I mean, seriously it's cool. I mean at least you ain't one of those fairy obvious gay guys, right? I mean they really focus on the stereotypes, I don't like them."
Jonathan now looked at the boy with an obvious confused look and put his hand on the trigger of the shotgun that was on his side. He stared at the boy, that confused look not leaving his face.
"What the fuck man, are you just this ugly and stupid because of the school system or are you actually a chipmunk with Down syndrome." Jonathan practically screamed at Chad. Chad simply backed away slowly.
"Look dude, I just wanted to be your friend..." Chad said however he was cut off once again by a screaming Jonathan Michaels.
"Shut the fuck up, you ignorant motherfucker! I'm going to explain to you why you don't approach someone who A.) Has a fucking shotgun, B.) Is bigger than you and C.) Tells you to get the fuck away from him!" the gun was now pointing at Chad's head. Chad continued to back away, obviously scared.
"L-L-Look I j-just wanted someone to help me. I-I'm scared out here, y'know, I-I'm sorry, j-just p-please don't kill me, alright man?" Chad tried to reason with this kid however Jonathan simply continued to walk towards him.
"I don't want your fucking useless friendship and I don't want to have to protect a useless asshole like yourself," Jonathan muttered.
Sometimes I feel
Like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of angels
Lonely as I am
Together we cry
Chad was crying right now as he got onto the floor and tried to get ready to kick Jonathan Michaels away, like he was going to fight him off with the sticks he calls legs, Jonathan simply smiled at him.
"You know I never planned on fucking killing you. But then you had to bring your gay fantasies all on me, it really is sad, maybe that Whitney girl would've given you a sympathy fuck since you're obviously going to die a virgin, I mean seriously, do you even have pubes?" Jonathan said continuing to point the shotgun at Chad who now attempted to get up and run away.
BLAM!
Jonathan fired a shot into the air, causing Chad to freeze. Jonathan was being observant and noticed a stain appear on the crotch of the kids jeans, Jonathan smirked. The kid had peed himself, at least he didn't have to worry about that after he had killed him.
"Dude, you're getting off on me telling you off, what kinda fuck up are you?" Jonathan screamed at him, the gun still pointed at him.
Chad turned around with a weak smile on his face.
"That's urine and I believe the term you're looking for is masochist." Chad said showing false bravado as the warmness of the urine filled denim and cotton pressed against his crotch. He was going to die here, he was going to die a lonely death, away from his family, he was never going to become a teacher, never fall in love, never do anything he wanted to, all because he had a homeroom that was a year ahead of him and the things that he did to put himself further in life had ended it instead.
"Shut the fuck up wise ass. You aren't going to get any sexual favors from me because of your fucking jokes." Jonathan said bitterly, he now stood directly over Chad, however he didn't pull the trigger. He was thinking out his actions, now would be the turning point of the game for him, it had reached it's climax right at the beginning, all that would come after this meant nothing, all who would kill after this meant nothing, this was Jonathan Michaels deciding his path, and this would doom countless kids to their graves.
The winner of Survival of the Fittest would be decided right at this moment, everyone else's collars might as well explode now, because they could not beat Jonathan Michaels, no one stood a chance against him, they were nothing, insignificant.
I drive on her streets
'Cause she's my companion
I walk through her hills
'Cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds
And she kisses me windy
I never worry
Now that is a lie
No.
Jonathan did not feel like that, words could not express the feeling of conflict that would go through his head. Did he kill the boy? Did he set his course for the rest of the game? Did he become Hawley Faust? A fighter doomed to die no matter how he redeemed itself, if he killed now it wouldn't matter if he saved countless lives later, this action would decide how he would be looked at for the rest of his life.
Fate had put Chad in his hands, Fate had caused him to do this, it was all in Fate's plan, no matter how much Jonathan decided not to fight it. He still felt the internal struggle that came with killing someone. He had spent his whole life learning how to beat the shit out of people, yet words could not describe how conflicted he felt right now.
\Chad stared at Jonathan, they had been in the position for five minutes, Chad was scared to move, hoping maybe this guy would let him go, maybe he would allow him to be in his company, no matter what any one said about how he treated Chad in the last five minutes, this kid had a way of striking fear into his opponents, he was quick on his feet, and even if you took that into consideration he still obviously thought out his actions, this boy wasn't stupid. Chad would've been the luckiest guy in the world if Jonathan allowed him to stay with him.
Jonathan however did not want to have anything to do with this kid as they sat frozen in time, as they stood there in a stasis, Jonathan stood at the catalyst that was Fate.
My original plan was to go by fate, fate had decided to put this boy's life in my hands, fate had decided for him to be so weak. Fate had decided to bring him here, bring him here coincidently right after I swore to play this game. Right after I swore to be alone. One thing's for sure, even if I think these words, I don't like the way they make me feel inside, and I don't like the ramifications of what this will cause.
However at the end of the day all I have is myself, depending on someone else is wrong.
This kid is depending on me to let him live, depending on me to let him continue living at this moment.
I was just like him at one point, small, scrawny, ignorant. I managed to get where I was on my own, I managed to get in the position where I held the gun on my own.
We were the same, fate had decided to make me the championship boxer and him the weak geek. It was natural selection that caused us both to be here. And at the end of the day Survival of the Fittest would dictate my actions, for me as a living thing was destined to deal with Survival of the Fittest since birth.
It is the cross that all of us have to bear, there is no fighting it. But even though I know this, I don't want to feel like this again, I just want this to be as simple to do as it is to think.
I don't ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way
"If you didn't know, my name is Jonathan Michaels..." Jonathan said breaking the silence, Chad looked at him confused.
"I'm Chad." he said not hesitating out of fear of angering this boy.
"That's nice, although it doesn't matter in the big picture. I was a born fighter, featherweight champion of the world, I won that title little over a year ago. It's ironic that I spent my whole life focusing not on winning fights, but knowing when I was going to lose them. Fate brought us here, Chad, Fate brought us here to kill each other and I know deep inside that I cannot fight against the Fate that god or anything else made for me."
Chad tensed, he didn't want to hear what Jonathan Michaels said, and he didn't want to hear the ramifications.
"Look man, get away-" as Chad's mouth was wide open Jonathan took this time to shove the gun down there. He could hear Chad cough; he could see the puke come flowing out of Chad's mouth. He could hear how Chad was gagging on his own vomit.
"Nothing you say matters man and I truly am sorry that you had to be on the losing side of this, I'm sure we would've been friends if Fate had not put us here."
And with that Jonathan Michaels pulled the trigger, ending the fight, Chad's head exploded and Jonathan was now covered in the blood, brain matter, and skull fragments that had come out of blowing Chad's brains out.
My name is Chad Munteanu and I am many things. Student. Friend. Thespian. Kind of an athlete, I suppose. As you can plainly see by looking to the left, a lover of lists. These more or less sum me up. Many people will tell you that I've a big mouth and that I am quick to anger, so add those up to the list I love so much, but really at the end of the day I tend to trust people more often than I should.
I don't know what it is inside me that makes me think that I am something, that I can trust someone so quickly, give them all my friendship and tell them my deepest darkest secrets, how I can find a complete stranger and hope that they can protect me with their life and we can make it out together. Am I that naïve to go with a theory that I myself know is false?
Like right now with this shotgun shoved down my throat I know that I should be fighting him, I should be grasping for survival, my body makes me puke to flood out whatever is shoved down my throat, yet I know that me puking will do nothing. I continue to do what I know is false in order to save myself, in order to preserve my life.
What is life for? Really, what is life for? Fucking? Eating? Sleeping? Being? Since when has it been so great to be, when being consists of paying taxes, getting raped by the man, having your thoughts slaughtered, your plants illegalized, your individuality crucified, the very essence of your existence sold to us in plastic bottles!
Maybe I am the lucky one, the one who can see this and embrace death in my mind. However even if I embrace this in my mind my body still fights for survival, I still fight for survival.
The sound of the gunshot.
The end of my thought.
Yet my heart still beats for one more second, fighting to save something that is already lost. Fighting to preserve my life, fighting to preserve something that is false.
Jonathan now stood alone in the clearing once again, he wiped off the spit, vomit, and blood that covered the barrel of the shotgun. Nobody out there would have pity with him now, no one would take him.
His Fate had been signed once again.
The only thing he could do now was adapt to the game, hope that winning it would silence his now guilt ridden conscience.
It's hard to believe
That there's nobody out there
It's hard to believe
That I'm all alone
At least I have her love
The city she loves me
Lonely as I am
Together we cry
He sighed, as he felt the tears coming down his face, has he fought the urge to use his blood covered sleeve to wipe them. He simply let it fall and soon found himself licking the hot water as it reached his lips. He didn't like the emptiness he felt after doing something that is a natural part of life, odds were that one out of every twenty of these kids would've died before they reached thirty anyways...a mild increase in this number shouldn't be that big of a deal, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if they all died in a plane crash or something.
Even if Jonathan knew this he still felt like shit, he still felt like he had done something wrong.
He internally didn't ever want to feel like this again, however he knew that saying that he killed someone in cold blood was not like dropping someone's coffee cup or pissing someone off, it was life changing. He could never go back from now.
He was doomed to deal with this feeling, this feeling that now served him as a prison of his own design.
I don't ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all that way
Jonathan stared at his surroundings, not even bothering to really absorb them, and took all of Chad's stuff and put it in his bag, not bothering to really observe the weapon Chad had been assigned. The feeling of emptiness he had was all that was there, however he knew that if he was ever going to make out of here he would have to become a being of hate.
He would have to draw blood until he couldn't get enough. He would have to forget emotions like love, and he would have to give his life away to the game.
All for a small chance of survival, all when a kid last game got struck by lightning. All for some false hope of defeating the fate he was bound to: Killing only to die.
Jonathan simply sighed. This would be a long day.
Under the bridge downtown
Is where I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown
I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown
Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown
I gave my life away
CHAD LOBO MUNTEANU-ELIMINATED
Fighting for something you already lost.
[CONTENT WARNING: SOMEONE DEEPTHROATS A SHOTGUN]
Fighting for something you already lost.
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Those bastards...
An Linh Tuan awoke with the events marking the ill-fated trip of the Hobbsborough students fresh and raw in her mind. It was purely because of the plain and simple fact that the first waking second she experienced on the island sent a shot of adrenaline running through her veins. It overruled any initial sense of confusion or disorientation from her mind, replacing it with sudden wariness and bringing her fully on her toes.
The teenaged, red-maned Asian sprung to her feet from where she had lain prone on the forest floor, her breath quickening as though she were ready to run...or fight. She swirled around, searching for an attacker that wasn't there, fists clenching together. All that she could think about was the fact that she was in danger of being killed, and no one would be there to save her except for herself.
And all the while, the memories of what had happened before she was knocked out... they were vivid in her mind...
Survival of the Fittest...it seemed nothing more than an urban legend from where An Linh stood. It was something that couldn't possibly affect her, no matter how much of a tragedy it was. No matter how true it had been that teenagers her age had been thrown into such an atrocity, and had their lives suddenly devastated, and then cut short, something like that couldn't possibly happen to her...
...Which was exactly what An Linh had been thinking just as the flight attendant, who had been wandering up and down the aisle as the kids were waiting for their flight to commence, and one of the girls, a student no older than her own age, were both shot dead with a SPAS-15 before her very eyes....
...She had started to rise to her feet, but some other kid had beaten her to the punch, effectively diverting the attention of the two supposed undercover officers. Just watching the boy being shot to death in front of her was enough to drain her strength completely, causing her to sink back into her seat and, as fate would have it, saving her life for the moment...
...and as she wished with all her heart for this nightmare to just end and allow her to awaken to a world that was right again, she averted her eyes as Mrs. Saranna was shamed before the entire class... turning only once she heard the sound of a thunderous gunshot once again. The only comfort that came from the sight of the headless teacher upon the floor of the aisle was the fact that she hadn't somehow gotten the terrorists' attention, which would have killed her...
...but the sight that seemed to confirm it all, the very worst of her fears, that what shouldn't be happening was in fact happening to her at this very moment. What she should have been safe from had now ensnared her, spiriting her away from everything she had known before, and everything she had lived for... it was the sight of the red headed boy, standing atop in twisted triumph over a fallen, helpless girl. Both were no older than An Linh herself. And for a moment, An Linh suddenly imagined herself in the place of the late Helena van Garrett just as the killer known as Hawley Faust put a gunshot through her forehead....
An Linh gritted her teeth, her emotions finally getting the better of her as she swirled around to drive her fist into the trunk of a tree behind her. It shook, and above her descended a shower of dead or dying leaves, scattering along the forest floor.
Those fucking bastards...
She drew in deep, shuddering breaths, struggling to clear her mind and calm herself down. Now was far from the time for being irrational. Given the situation she was in, she needed to make the most of herself and her sense of reason. Her life was in danger, but as long as she was still alive, she still had a chance. And given what was on the line at the moment, she wasn't about to fuck that up any time soon.
It was then that An Linh felt something soft at the ankle of her canvas hightops. She looked down promptly to see the rough-textured duffel bag at her feet. Thick and bulging, it was emblazoned with her number, "G09".
Looking down at it for a thoughtful moment, she smirked slightly.
What wouldn't I do to have that many lives...
Come to think of it, this duffel bag was more than just a simple generosity granted by the terrorists, in spite of all that they stood for. It was her tool for survival. Rather, what was inside may as well be a strong, deciding factor as to whether or not she would live to see the dawn of tomorrow.
She started to crouch, anticipating the possibility of what her designated weapon was to be.
It was then that the sound of thunder filled her ears...
...Except An Linh knew that it wasn't thunder. Far from it in fact. No thunder could produce a sound so forceful, that it sounded as though the source were only a few yards away.
Bluntly put, it was a gunshot.
The game had already started.
For a split second, An Linh had half a mind to just grab her duffel bag and get the hell out of dodge before the gunner found her. But it was then that curiosity overtook her movements. No, before she ran off, she had to know for sure just what was it that she was dealing with, and if, truly, anyone her age could possibly sink to the level of a murderer as the players of the previous game had done.
She took care to keep her movements furtive, making sure that her footsteps produced as little noise as was possible as she approached the source of the gunshot. She did not have to wander far before she came across the scene of carnage as it unfolded before her...
An Linh quickly ducked behind a trunk, just as the deafening sound of yet another gunshot filled her ears yet again. This time, however, she was treated to the sight of a boy either her own age or younger, having his head blown apart in the devastating wake of the shotgun wielded by the other.
Dark eyes widened in utter shock as the boy fell, his head now a mess of blood and brain matter, as though it had burst apart like a rotten fruit. An Linh felt her heart stop for a split second, sending her body in a shudder of panic. Her paling fingers stiffened, driving deeply into the bark of the tree trunk from the tension that followed.
She clenched her teeth together to refrain from making any sort of sound. Trying her best not to look at the fresh corpse, (which grossly enough reminded her of one of the more grisly scenes of Fist of the North Star. Damn, was that movie violent.)she turned her gaze towards the teenager turned killer, the one who had wielded the shotgun.
It was then that her blood began to run cold.
It was funny. She'd always figured Jonathan Michaels to be some common, egoistical prick overdosed on testosterone. But never did she figure him to sink to such a level as to kill a student his own age without so much of a second thought.
Now however, it seemed as though the aftermath of his first kill was taking a toll on the figure of Jonathan Michaels, something that An Linh regarded with the coldest and most merciless of disdain...
Her eyes began to eye the shotgun with some sense of hunger and yearning. She had seen the power and potential of the weapon for herself, experienced it with her own eyes, at the expense of another. Now she knew just what a threat it could be to someone such as herself, and more an importantly, just how much of an asset it could possibly be for someone in desperate need of defending herself from her own classmates.
An Linh's dark eyes wandered warily, cautiously. All she spent was a second more on quick and careful deliberation before she made her move, creeping in slow, furtive paces towards the unsuspecting form of Jonathan Michaels...
Her body moved a split-second before her mind knew the time was right. She leapt, her lean, yet taller form tackling against that of Jonathan's, throwing her arm around his neck and pressing her forearm against the side of his throat. With all her might, she braced herself for the struggle she was certain would follow, her mind knowing nothing else but the thought of battle.
Let the games begin...
An Linh Tuan awoke with the events marking the ill-fated trip of the Hobbsborough students fresh and raw in her mind. It was purely because of the plain and simple fact that the first waking second she experienced on the island sent a shot of adrenaline running through her veins. It overruled any initial sense of confusion or disorientation from her mind, replacing it with sudden wariness and bringing her fully on her toes.
The teenaged, red-maned Asian sprung to her feet from where she had lain prone on the forest floor, her breath quickening as though she were ready to run...or fight. She swirled around, searching for an attacker that wasn't there, fists clenching together. All that she could think about was the fact that she was in danger of being killed, and no one would be there to save her except for herself.
And all the while, the memories of what had happened before she was knocked out... they were vivid in her mind...
Survival of the Fittest...it seemed nothing more than an urban legend from where An Linh stood. It was something that couldn't possibly affect her, no matter how much of a tragedy it was. No matter how true it had been that teenagers her age had been thrown into such an atrocity, and had their lives suddenly devastated, and then cut short, something like that couldn't possibly happen to her...
...Which was exactly what An Linh had been thinking just as the flight attendant, who had been wandering up and down the aisle as the kids were waiting for their flight to commence, and one of the girls, a student no older than her own age, were both shot dead with a SPAS-15 before her very eyes....
...She had started to rise to her feet, but some other kid had beaten her to the punch, effectively diverting the attention of the two supposed undercover officers. Just watching the boy being shot to death in front of her was enough to drain her strength completely, causing her to sink back into her seat and, as fate would have it, saving her life for the moment...
...and as she wished with all her heart for this nightmare to just end and allow her to awaken to a world that was right again, she averted her eyes as Mrs. Saranna was shamed before the entire class... turning only once she heard the sound of a thunderous gunshot once again. The only comfort that came from the sight of the headless teacher upon the floor of the aisle was the fact that she hadn't somehow gotten the terrorists' attention, which would have killed her...
...but the sight that seemed to confirm it all, the very worst of her fears, that what shouldn't be happening was in fact happening to her at this very moment. What she should have been safe from had now ensnared her, spiriting her away from everything she had known before, and everything she had lived for... it was the sight of the red headed boy, standing atop in twisted triumph over a fallen, helpless girl. Both were no older than An Linh herself. And for a moment, An Linh suddenly imagined herself in the place of the late Helena van Garrett just as the killer known as Hawley Faust put a gunshot through her forehead....
An Linh gritted her teeth, her emotions finally getting the better of her as she swirled around to drive her fist into the trunk of a tree behind her. It shook, and above her descended a shower of dead or dying leaves, scattering along the forest floor.
Those fucking bastards...
She drew in deep, shuddering breaths, struggling to clear her mind and calm herself down. Now was far from the time for being irrational. Given the situation she was in, she needed to make the most of herself and her sense of reason. Her life was in danger, but as long as she was still alive, she still had a chance. And given what was on the line at the moment, she wasn't about to fuck that up any time soon.
It was then that An Linh felt something soft at the ankle of her canvas hightops. She looked down promptly to see the rough-textured duffel bag at her feet. Thick and bulging, it was emblazoned with her number, "G09".
Looking down at it for a thoughtful moment, she smirked slightly.
What wouldn't I do to have that many lives...
Come to think of it, this duffel bag was more than just a simple generosity granted by the terrorists, in spite of all that they stood for. It was her tool for survival. Rather, what was inside may as well be a strong, deciding factor as to whether or not she would live to see the dawn of tomorrow.
She started to crouch, anticipating the possibility of what her designated weapon was to be.
It was then that the sound of thunder filled her ears...
...Except An Linh knew that it wasn't thunder. Far from it in fact. No thunder could produce a sound so forceful, that it sounded as though the source were only a few yards away.
Bluntly put, it was a gunshot.
The game had already started.
For a split second, An Linh had half a mind to just grab her duffel bag and get the hell out of dodge before the gunner found her. But it was then that curiosity overtook her movements. No, before she ran off, she had to know for sure just what was it that she was dealing with, and if, truly, anyone her age could possibly sink to the level of a murderer as the players of the previous game had done.
She took care to keep her movements furtive, making sure that her footsteps produced as little noise as was possible as she approached the source of the gunshot. She did not have to wander far before she came across the scene of carnage as it unfolded before her...
An Linh quickly ducked behind a trunk, just as the deafening sound of yet another gunshot filled her ears yet again. This time, however, she was treated to the sight of a boy either her own age or younger, having his head blown apart in the devastating wake of the shotgun wielded by the other.
Dark eyes widened in utter shock as the boy fell, his head now a mess of blood and brain matter, as though it had burst apart like a rotten fruit. An Linh felt her heart stop for a split second, sending her body in a shudder of panic. Her paling fingers stiffened, driving deeply into the bark of the tree trunk from the tension that followed.
She clenched her teeth together to refrain from making any sort of sound. Trying her best not to look at the fresh corpse, (which grossly enough reminded her of one of the more grisly scenes of Fist of the North Star. Damn, was that movie violent.)she turned her gaze towards the teenager turned killer, the one who had wielded the shotgun.
It was then that her blood began to run cold.
It was funny. She'd always figured Jonathan Michaels to be some common, egoistical prick overdosed on testosterone. But never did she figure him to sink to such a level as to kill a student his own age without so much of a second thought.
Now however, it seemed as though the aftermath of his first kill was taking a toll on the figure of Jonathan Michaels, something that An Linh regarded with the coldest and most merciless of disdain...
Her eyes began to eye the shotgun with some sense of hunger and yearning. She had seen the power and potential of the weapon for herself, experienced it with her own eyes, at the expense of another. Now she knew just what a threat it could be to someone such as herself, and more an importantly, just how much of an asset it could possibly be for someone in desperate need of defending herself from her own classmates.
An Linh's dark eyes wandered warily, cautiously. All she spent was a second more on quick and careful deliberation before she made her move, creeping in slow, furtive paces towards the unsuspecting form of Jonathan Michaels...
Her body moved a split-second before her mind knew the time was right. She leapt, her lean, yet taller form tackling against that of Jonathan's, throwing her arm around his neck and pressing her forearm against the side of his throat. With all her might, she braced herself for the struggle she was certain would follow, her mind knowing nothing else but the thought of battle.
Let the games begin...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
Thinking out his actions was something Jonathan held dear, it was the one thing that he could do that nobody would take away from him, so imagine if you will the confusion that must of occurred in Jonathan's mind as he was ripped out from his plane of thought and tackled to the ground. His shotgun flying out his hand and landing a few yards away from him, his green eyes narrowed as he immediately turned to it, events proceeding as if in slow motion as he struggled to reach for it but found himself stuck in mid air as a gigantic force of hot underage Asian female tackled him to the ground.
As he took his hand and pushed it against the red heads face and struggled to get free from her grasp, a small grunt could be heard escaping Jonathan Michaels mouth.
Fucking An Linh, touch a girls tits once and she gets all anal about it, fuck...now I'm thinking about getting all anal on her, well maybe she'll back off if she's got fucking 9 inches of Jonathan Michaels poking her in the eye...just gotta get to the gun...
He continued to against her, obviously still in shock that she had A.) Had attacked him by surprise and B.) Had removed the puke/blood/brain filled shotgun from his grasp. He still continued to struggle though, doing a series of twists and turns to try to escape her, her grasp was to strong however and Jonathan just found himself tiring all the quicker as he did this.
Fuck, I need to get out of this vice grip she has on my waist right fucking now...
Can you imagine how ironic if the infamous Jonathan Michaels after killing his first victim was killed right there? Was murdered by An Linh? Good triumphed over evil and An Linh went off with her friends to save the world!
"Well fuck this..." Jonathan sighed as he managed to free his right hand and sent a well placed punch to the top of An Linh's pretty red head. Then he attempted to shove her off with his legs (hoping that she had relented when she felt the hit to the head), coincidently Jonathan at this moment was not thinking about killing An Linh as much as he was about getting out of this situation, as much as he was thinking about just living. He had killed Chad so he could be on his own and not have anyone blabbing that Jonathan Michaels had a shotgun (as if the target on his back was not already acting like a strobe light alerting everyone that the featherweight champion of the world was on the island...however that was a story for another day).
Jonathan just hoped that he could get the shotgun and leave, not be known as the proffesional boxer who killed both a girl and a midget at the same time.
God how come everything I think has such a perverted connotation to it...
As he took his hand and pushed it against the red heads face and struggled to get free from her grasp, a small grunt could be heard escaping Jonathan Michaels mouth.
Fucking An Linh, touch a girls tits once and she gets all anal about it, fuck...now I'm thinking about getting all anal on her, well maybe she'll back off if she's got fucking 9 inches of Jonathan Michaels poking her in the eye...just gotta get to the gun...
He continued to against her, obviously still in shock that she had A.) Had attacked him by surprise and B.) Had removed the puke/blood/brain filled shotgun from his grasp. He still continued to struggle though, doing a series of twists and turns to try to escape her, her grasp was to strong however and Jonathan just found himself tiring all the quicker as he did this.
Fuck, I need to get out of this vice grip she has on my waist right fucking now...
Can you imagine how ironic if the infamous Jonathan Michaels after killing his first victim was killed right there? Was murdered by An Linh? Good triumphed over evil and An Linh went off with her friends to save the world!
"Well fuck this..." Jonathan sighed as he managed to free his right hand and sent a well placed punch to the top of An Linh's pretty red head. Then he attempted to shove her off with his legs (hoping that she had relented when she felt the hit to the head), coincidently Jonathan at this moment was not thinking about killing An Linh as much as he was about getting out of this situation, as much as he was thinking about just living. He had killed Chad so he could be on his own and not have anyone blabbing that Jonathan Michaels had a shotgun (as if the target on his back was not already acting like a strobe light alerting everyone that the featherweight champion of the world was on the island...however that was a story for another day).
Jonathan just hoped that he could get the shotgun and leave, not be known as the proffesional boxer who killed both a girl and a midget at the same time.
God how come everything I think has such a perverted connotation to it...
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
As expected, the shorter, yet more muscular boy whom An Linh had just tackled to the ground began reacting almost immediately. Knowing that she had caught him by complete surprise, An Linh knew that there was no way she could fuck up this advantage. She had to make this her game. Her teeth gritted in satisfaction when she saw the shotgun flying out of his hands to lie well out of the breadth of his reach.
I'll be taking that later, if you don't mind...
She gave a sudden growl of frustration as Jonathan's hand reached up to press against the side of her face in an effort to push her away. Half blinded by the hand covering the better part of her face, An Linh's efforts were diverted only momentarily as she moved her head away briskly, not about to let him escape her and go straight for the gun. He struggled like a mad animal under her tiring grip, but there was no way An Linh was going to let him have his way after what she'd seen.
Fucking bastard. Fucking killer. Though I have to admit, you're pretty adamant on struggling, even though you're such a fucking pric-
The next thing that An Linh knew, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted an impact against her head, sending her mind into a state of numbness for a split second. Next thing she knew, Jonathan was kicking her off of him while she was still in a state of stunned surprise. The pain in her head left her somewhat disoriented, while a single thought ran through her mind and filled her with rage.
He hit me! The fucking bastard fucking hit me!
Any consideration that An Linh had possessed for peaceful diplomacy evaporated completely as she shook her head to clear away the aftermath of the impact. Rolling away to evade his kicks, she immediately sprung to her feet yet again, eager to retaliate while Jonathan was still prone on the ground.
In the corner of her eye, she could register the sight of Chad's corpse lying against the ground.
That won't be me, she vowed to herself. I'll never end up like that.
She stepped towards him once and lifted a high-top donning foot into the air. Next, with an aggravated yell, she snapped her heel downwards, aiming for a swift, yet brutal impact at the base of his neck.
In her mind, An Linh only hoped that she could stop on him hard enough to at least make a mark....and not to mention, a fucking point.
I'll be taking that later, if you don't mind...
She gave a sudden growl of frustration as Jonathan's hand reached up to press against the side of her face in an effort to push her away. Half blinded by the hand covering the better part of her face, An Linh's efforts were diverted only momentarily as she moved her head away briskly, not about to let him escape her and go straight for the gun. He struggled like a mad animal under her tiring grip, but there was no way An Linh was going to let him have his way after what she'd seen.
Fucking bastard. Fucking killer. Though I have to admit, you're pretty adamant on struggling, even though you're such a fucking pric-
The next thing that An Linh knew, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted an impact against her head, sending her mind into a state of numbness for a split second. Next thing she knew, Jonathan was kicking her off of him while she was still in a state of stunned surprise. The pain in her head left her somewhat disoriented, while a single thought ran through her mind and filled her with rage.
He hit me! The fucking bastard fucking hit me!
Any consideration that An Linh had possessed for peaceful diplomacy evaporated completely as she shook her head to clear away the aftermath of the impact. Rolling away to evade his kicks, she immediately sprung to her feet yet again, eager to retaliate while Jonathan was still prone on the ground.
In the corner of her eye, she could register the sight of Chad's corpse lying against the ground.
That won't be me, she vowed to herself. I'll never end up like that.
She stepped towards him once and lifted a high-top donning foot into the air. Next, with an aggravated yell, she snapped her heel downwards, aiming for a swift, yet brutal impact at the base of his neck.
In her mind, An Linh only hoped that she could stop on him hard enough to at least make a mark....and not to mention, a fucking point.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
Jonathan eyes calmed a bit as he freed himself from An Linh's grasp, and has he got up slowly he was about to speak. Ask An Linh, "What the fuck was she doing...", but Jonathan never got that chance, while he was sitting on the floor An Linh had gotten up and her foot was coming down at quite the force, the original target being the neck, Jonathan was happy for a second, he would live to continue the fight, but as he got up to move out of the way he shuddered a bit, An Linh's foot had connected with his rising shoulder and he was in quite the amount of pain. To be honest Jonathan was quite surprised, he had fought people whom he considered way stronger than An Linh, but the amount of pain she had inflicted in one blow was quite amazing, it was to be admired really. So, Jonathan with An Linh's foot still on his shoulder, stood their in a half standing position, winced visibly, he would later punch himself in the face, you never wince, you never let your opponent think you're weakening. But, it could be said that no matter how surprised Jonathan was when she attacked him, his adrenaline was finally kicking in and his eyes narrowed as he looked at An Linh with a small smirk.
"The time has come..." he said devilishly in a half hearted attempt to intimidate her so he wouldn't have to fight her and obviously get weakened significantly, just scare her away with insanity and then pick up your shotgun and go on your merry way. Quite genius correct? Jonathan thought so, thought it was a great plan, should get the noble peace prize for battle plans that it should. It was amazing in all things planular, quite impressive, right?
Something told him it wasn't, that something being his right arm as he finally pushed off An Linh's leg from his shoulder and got into a boxing position, he then proceeded to run in close to her and give her a hook to the stomach.
Well...now or never...
"The time has come..." he said devilishly in a half hearted attempt to intimidate her so he wouldn't have to fight her and obviously get weakened significantly, just scare her away with insanity and then pick up your shotgun and go on your merry way. Quite genius correct? Jonathan thought so, thought it was a great plan, should get the noble peace prize for battle plans that it should. It was amazing in all things planular, quite impressive, right?
Something told him it wasn't, that something being his right arm as he finally pushed off An Linh's leg from his shoulder and got into a boxing position, he then proceeded to run in close to her and give her a hook to the stomach.
Well...now or never...
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
The smirk of triumph never disappeared from An Linh's face as she brought her foot down on Jonathan, thinking of the meaningful impact he would feel as a way of retaliation from the punch he had delivered to An Linh. Speaking of which, she could feel the mark of impact at the side of her head burning raw, and leaving a dull ache that put her somewhat off balance. Just the pains he'd caused her now and before was enough for her to feel justified in doing this. She'd never taken crap from anyone, let alone some twisted prick, boxer or no.
Her frown soon faltered however, as Jonathan moved faster than she had ever anticipated, and began to stand up slightly. As a result, An Linh found her foot slamming into his shoulder, instead of his neck, where she had intended. For a moment, her narrowing eyes locked with that of Jonathan's, which in turned distorted slightly as though he were in pain from the impact on his shoulder.
The satisfaction that An Linh felt knowing that she had dealt some damage in return, however, was fleeting. Listening to the sinister remark that Jonathan was uttering now was enough to make her blood run somewhat cold.
It was then that she remembered that as much as Jonathan was an obnoxious prick, he was also a killer. She had seen him kill with her very own eyes. And in that moment, the thought of herself as the next one in range of the shotgun he had wielded was enough to make her hesitate for a split second.
That split-second was enough time for Jonathan to push her away. In the moments that followed, An Linh was thrown off balance, staggering slightly. She growled in frustration, knowing that she had lost the element of surprise at last and given Jonathan a chance to defend himself.
...Damn it!
She suddenly found her body moving of its own accord even before she registered the sight of Jonathan throwing a punch towards her. With a trained reflex conditioned from endless sparring and routinal practice, she ducked and sidestepped at the same time. The young boxer, however, was faster than she'd ever anticipated to be, and though he missed his intended target, that being her stomach, his fist grazed the side of her upper arm, leaving a burning mark that was sure to leave a painful bruise.
Shit...that's right, he's a boxer.
Cradling her arm, she stepped back to get away. Automatically, her feet moved into the position she had always been familiar with, and before she knew it, her body had moved into the fighting stance she had always used during practice and sparring.
The adrenaline was kicking in at last, allowing An Linh to set aside the pain in her arm for at least a while. She turned her gaze towards Jonathan, whom she now saw as an opponant, and intended to treat as such.
Only this wasn't practice. It was a fight to the death.
With the intent to end up on the defense nowhere in her agenda, An Linh made her move, looking to see that Jonathan was distracted in regaining his sense of balance after the momentum of his earlier punch. Pivoting on her heel, An Linh's body rotated in full circle, all the while lifting her leg to swing her heel towards the side of his head in a roundhouse kick.
Her frown soon faltered however, as Jonathan moved faster than she had ever anticipated, and began to stand up slightly. As a result, An Linh found her foot slamming into his shoulder, instead of his neck, where she had intended. For a moment, her narrowing eyes locked with that of Jonathan's, which in turned distorted slightly as though he were in pain from the impact on his shoulder.
The satisfaction that An Linh felt knowing that she had dealt some damage in return, however, was fleeting. Listening to the sinister remark that Jonathan was uttering now was enough to make her blood run somewhat cold.
It was then that she remembered that as much as Jonathan was an obnoxious prick, he was also a killer. She had seen him kill with her very own eyes. And in that moment, the thought of herself as the next one in range of the shotgun he had wielded was enough to make her hesitate for a split second.
That split-second was enough time for Jonathan to push her away. In the moments that followed, An Linh was thrown off balance, staggering slightly. She growled in frustration, knowing that she had lost the element of surprise at last and given Jonathan a chance to defend himself.
...Damn it!
She suddenly found her body moving of its own accord even before she registered the sight of Jonathan throwing a punch towards her. With a trained reflex conditioned from endless sparring and routinal practice, she ducked and sidestepped at the same time. The young boxer, however, was faster than she'd ever anticipated to be, and though he missed his intended target, that being her stomach, his fist grazed the side of her upper arm, leaving a burning mark that was sure to leave a painful bruise.
Shit...that's right, he's a boxer.
Cradling her arm, she stepped back to get away. Automatically, her feet moved into the position she had always been familiar with, and before she knew it, her body had moved into the fighting stance she had always used during practice and sparring.
The adrenaline was kicking in at last, allowing An Linh to set aside the pain in her arm for at least a while. She turned her gaze towards Jonathan, whom she now saw as an opponant, and intended to treat as such.
Only this wasn't practice. It was a fight to the death.
With the intent to end up on the defense nowhere in her agenda, An Linh made her move, looking to see that Jonathan was distracted in regaining his sense of balance after the momentum of his earlier punch. Pivoting on her heel, An Linh's body rotated in full circle, all the while lifting her leg to swing her heel towards the side of his head in a roundhouse kick.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
The year was 2000 and an eleven year old Jonathan Michaels stood in the ring with a boy around his age, both dressed in appropriate head gear and ready for the 70-80lbs boys national championship for boxing, a small crowd had already gathered around the ring (this match was supposed to be a precursor to the professional matches starting later that day), Jonathan simply eyed his opponent viciously, it would be safe to assume that the arrogant Jonathan Michaels had always been arrogant by the impressions you got in this ring. The young Jonathan Michaels however did something that was not characteristic with his older self, as he saw the referee approaching the ring, he patted the other fighter on the back and found himself whispering "Good Luck." and smiled through his mouth guard. Jonathan however was greeted only with the other eleven year old boy shaking his head and pushing him away. A look of immediate disappointment passed by the young Jonathan's face as he backed away and got into his fighting stance, ready to fight his opponent, the opponent that had rejected all sense of friendliness and the peace that Jon had offered.
"Fight!" the referee screamed and Jonathan immediately reacted going in close and sending a very powerful well placed punch to the other boys ribs, the crowd heard a very loud crack and the boy proceeded to fall to the ground gracefully, not before Jonathan shot an uppercut to the boys face, and Jonathan's eyes widened as he saw a little bit of blood leak out of the boys mouth piece, Jonathan's eyes widened as he looked in shock at the blood hitting the canvas, as the ref counted to ten and Jonathan was declared the national champion, yet he felt this empty feeling for taking out a child his own age, he felt this sadness, this...self hatred.
"I'm nothing more than a..." the young Jonathan thought
"Motherfucker..." Jonathan muttered as the roundhouse kick came straight to his head, instinctively he brought up his forearm, a decision he immediatly regretted as he felt a sharp pain shoot through his body and looked at the already red forearm, the bones weren't broken, but a bruise was inevetible. Jonathan mentally sighed, after this was over he'd have to make some padding for that so he could still fight. He noticed however the position he and An Linh where in, he was blocking her from completing the full cycle of the round house and Jonathan still had his hand free, sure there was a large amount of distance between them (And even though Jonathan could switch off between both his right and left hand, Jonathan was far more comfortable in starting up combinations with his right), Jonathan sent out a jab with his left hand towards An Linh's stomache again.
Like my trainer always said, "If they're skinny and untrained, the body shot will keep them falling and falling...
"Fight!" the referee screamed and Jonathan immediately reacted going in close and sending a very powerful well placed punch to the other boys ribs, the crowd heard a very loud crack and the boy proceeded to fall to the ground gracefully, not before Jonathan shot an uppercut to the boys face, and Jonathan's eyes widened as he saw a little bit of blood leak out of the boys mouth piece, Jonathan's eyes widened as he looked in shock at the blood hitting the canvas, as the ref counted to ten and Jonathan was declared the national champion, yet he felt this empty feeling for taking out a child his own age, he felt this sadness, this...self hatred.
"I'm nothing more than a..." the young Jonathan thought
"Motherfucker..." Jonathan muttered as the roundhouse kick came straight to his head, instinctively he brought up his forearm, a decision he immediatly regretted as he felt a sharp pain shoot through his body and looked at the already red forearm, the bones weren't broken, but a bruise was inevetible. Jonathan mentally sighed, after this was over he'd have to make some padding for that so he could still fight. He noticed however the position he and An Linh where in, he was blocking her from completing the full cycle of the round house and Jonathan still had his hand free, sure there was a large amount of distance between them (And even though Jonathan could switch off between both his right and left hand, Jonathan was far more comfortable in starting up combinations with his right), Jonathan sent out a jab with his left hand towards An Linh's stomache again.
Like my trainer always said, "If they're skinny and untrained, the body shot will keep them falling and falling...
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
As the epic battle between Jonathan Michaels and An Linh Tuan raged on in the forest, there was an aura of thick tension that radiated around the area. The two combatants could feel it, and anyone who was even passing by or in the forest would likely have felt it, as the battle was that intense. While the two in the forest fighting were completely focused upon one another, there so happened to be a third pair of eyes that was watching the epic battle going on with much interest. A pair of eyes that had woken up earlier on in the woods, just as the two had wandered into the area. The pair of eyes had debated upon approaching them, but once they'd erupted into violence, the pair of eyes had slunk down into some bushes that joined up with a large tree. The eyes had watched as the boxer fought the girl, and what made it even worse for the eyes was that she knew both of the students who were fighting one another. The eyes didn't know the students well, but knew them in passing. All three of them went to the same high school - Hobbsborough High School, the former amalgamation of a public school and a Catholic school. There were quite a few characters in that school, people who you'd notice for one reason or another, and both of the people standing in front of the pair of eyes were people who would fall under that kind of description.
It was often rumoured that Jonathan Michaels had gang ties, and he was one of a few students in the small New Jersey school had some sort of fame to him - the others being a pair of hockey players; Vesa Turunen, a Finnish prospect, and the NHL's Calder Trophy winner (rookie of the year) Alexander Ovechkin. The pair of eyes knew that both of those people were far bigger targets than itself, due to their fame.
But here, in 'Survival of the Fittest', fame had no meaning. SOTF was a different world, a different kind of famous. All of them, for one reason or another, would be famous. None of the students in the first version sans perhaps Sidney Crosby had been famous beforehand, and now you could find V1 merchandise all over the place. The pair of eyes wasn't a big fan of SOTF, and their parents wouldn't let them watch it - even though they did anyways on occasion. Plus, it was near-impossible to get away from it on the Internet - it was almost the new 'big fad'. There were numerous conspiracy theories about it, that it was a United States operation, that it was funded by big governments...but the pair of eyes didn't care. All it wanted to do was just ignore it, and live their life. The pair of eyes had previously had a plan for the future - to graduate high school, to go off to post-secondary, and become successful. The pair of eyes had always wondered slightly about how much of the plan was her parents idea, but had pursued it anyways.
The pair of eyes couldn't believe it, really. The game had already started, and if what was going on in front of them was not some sort of vivid hallucination, it seemed as though kids were beginning to try and kill each other. Judging by the sky, it seemed to be early morning, and the eyes just watched as An Linh and Jonathan fought.
I can't believe that this has already started! This is absolutely outrageous. Can they really be trying to kill each other this quickly? Why not team up and try and take down the system? I'm not much of a groupie, but I'm no fool. I know that if you don't find a trusted group in this situation, you can't possibly manage to live. Fools. They're not even trying to kill each other in the quickest possible way. It seems to be more of an effort to inflict as much pain as possible on each other...
The pair of eyes just watched the battle go back and forth, almost enraptured within it. They hadn't even looked at the pack next to their side, and were simply watching, not making any kind of movement. While the pair of eyes wasn't concerned about the situation currently befalling them - they would undoubtedly worry about that later, and they calmly watched it go back and forth. The one thing that the eyes worried about was that if they were to interrupt such an intense battle, the focus might be foisted upon them. Plus, the eyes had seen the shotgun that Jonathan Michaels carried, and had seen the blood and vomit that splattered all over the weapon itself, and Michaels' clothes. Apparently, Michaels would kill, and the eyes didn't want to be another victim for him.
The simple fact was this: Jonathan Michaels was someone who people would consider a dangerous person to encounter in this game. The pair of eyes, also known as Girl #21, Sarah Dao, was not.
So all that Sarah, owner of the pair of deep brown eyes did was stay in the bushes, silently watching the events unfold before her.
It was often rumoured that Jonathan Michaels had gang ties, and he was one of a few students in the small New Jersey school had some sort of fame to him - the others being a pair of hockey players; Vesa Turunen, a Finnish prospect, and the NHL's Calder Trophy winner (rookie of the year) Alexander Ovechkin. The pair of eyes knew that both of those people were far bigger targets than itself, due to their fame.
But here, in 'Survival of the Fittest', fame had no meaning. SOTF was a different world, a different kind of famous. All of them, for one reason or another, would be famous. None of the students in the first version sans perhaps Sidney Crosby had been famous beforehand, and now you could find V1 merchandise all over the place. The pair of eyes wasn't a big fan of SOTF, and their parents wouldn't let them watch it - even though they did anyways on occasion. Plus, it was near-impossible to get away from it on the Internet - it was almost the new 'big fad'. There were numerous conspiracy theories about it, that it was a United States operation, that it was funded by big governments...but the pair of eyes didn't care. All it wanted to do was just ignore it, and live their life. The pair of eyes had previously had a plan for the future - to graduate high school, to go off to post-secondary, and become successful. The pair of eyes had always wondered slightly about how much of the plan was her parents idea, but had pursued it anyways.
The pair of eyes couldn't believe it, really. The game had already started, and if what was going on in front of them was not some sort of vivid hallucination, it seemed as though kids were beginning to try and kill each other. Judging by the sky, it seemed to be early morning, and the eyes just watched as An Linh and Jonathan fought.
I can't believe that this has already started! This is absolutely outrageous. Can they really be trying to kill each other this quickly? Why not team up and try and take down the system? I'm not much of a groupie, but I'm no fool. I know that if you don't find a trusted group in this situation, you can't possibly manage to live. Fools. They're not even trying to kill each other in the quickest possible way. It seems to be more of an effort to inflict as much pain as possible on each other...
The pair of eyes just watched the battle go back and forth, almost enraptured within it. They hadn't even looked at the pack next to their side, and were simply watching, not making any kind of movement. While the pair of eyes wasn't concerned about the situation currently befalling them - they would undoubtedly worry about that later, and they calmly watched it go back and forth. The one thing that the eyes worried about was that if they were to interrupt such an intense battle, the focus might be foisted upon them. Plus, the eyes had seen the shotgun that Jonathan Michaels carried, and had seen the blood and vomit that splattered all over the weapon itself, and Michaels' clothes. Apparently, Michaels would kill, and the eyes didn't want to be another victim for him.
The simple fact was this: Jonathan Michaels was someone who people would consider a dangerous person to encounter in this game. The pair of eyes, also known as Girl #21, Sarah Dao, was not.
So all that Sarah, owner of the pair of deep brown eyes did was stay in the bushes, silently watching the events unfold before her.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Yet to complete her 360 degree turn An Linh felt the impact of her roundhouse kick slamming hard into Jonathan's forearm with a satisfying crack, and smiled in spite of herself. However, in her moment of arrogance and fleeting triumph, she suddenly found herself suddenly caught off balance as Jonathan caught her abruptly near the end of her roundhouse kick, nonetheless interrupting her and jolting her sense of timing momentarily.
In the mind-numbing moment that followed, An Linh felt herself being treated to the brunt of Jonathan's punch, right at her mid-torso. Feeling the air knocked out of her lungs as her body flew back from the force of the impact, her mind momentarily fell into a stunned state in which she was unable to register fully what was happening to her.
It was the feeling of herself free falling in midair that brought her back into her senses. Though the pain in both her shoulder and her stomach were causing her mind to scream, it was disciplined and conditioned reflex that allowed her to land on the back of the hip and perform a backwards shoulder roll, vaulting her legs over her head so that her feet once again found an immediate standing position.
It wasn't long until the aftermath of Jonathan's punch finally got to her, causing her to sink once again to the ground shortly after regaining her stance. Only now did An Linh begin to register the taste of Jonathan's actual strength and skill...
Damn it... I can't fight against this guy like this. I need something to help me...but, what can I possibly use?
The obviousness of the answer hit her like a slap to the face. An Linh had suddenly remembered that the duffel bag that contained her yet-to-be-revealed designated weapon was lying just beyond the tree behind her.
Her eyes wandered dartingly between Jonathan and the shotgun lying several feet away, barely a running distance away from a quick reach. Her mind began to race. Would she have enough time to get to her bag before Jonathan got what was going on? Would she be able to reach her duffel bag, rummage for her weapon, and use it on Jonathan well within the time it took for him to get to the shotgun and shoot her down?
In her slight crouching position to ease the pain in her abdomen, her right hand suddenly found a pile of fine soil. Without a second thought, she took a good enough handful and launched it directly into the eyes of Jonathan Michaels. In the split second that followed, she pivoted, breaking into a full sprint for the duffel bag only a few yards behind her.
In the mind-numbing moment that followed, An Linh felt herself being treated to the brunt of Jonathan's punch, right at her mid-torso. Feeling the air knocked out of her lungs as her body flew back from the force of the impact, her mind momentarily fell into a stunned state in which she was unable to register fully what was happening to her.
It was the feeling of herself free falling in midair that brought her back into her senses. Though the pain in both her shoulder and her stomach were causing her mind to scream, it was disciplined and conditioned reflex that allowed her to land on the back of the hip and perform a backwards shoulder roll, vaulting her legs over her head so that her feet once again found an immediate standing position.
It wasn't long until the aftermath of Jonathan's punch finally got to her, causing her to sink once again to the ground shortly after regaining her stance. Only now did An Linh begin to register the taste of Jonathan's actual strength and skill...
Damn it... I can't fight against this guy like this. I need something to help me...but, what can I possibly use?
The obviousness of the answer hit her like a slap to the face. An Linh had suddenly remembered that the duffel bag that contained her yet-to-be-revealed designated weapon was lying just beyond the tree behind her.
Her eyes wandered dartingly between Jonathan and the shotgun lying several feet away, barely a running distance away from a quick reach. Her mind began to race. Would she have enough time to get to her bag before Jonathan got what was going on? Would she be able to reach her duffel bag, rummage for her weapon, and use it on Jonathan well within the time it took for him to get to the shotgun and shoot her down?
In her slight crouching position to ease the pain in her abdomen, her right hand suddenly found a pile of fine soil. Without a second thought, she took a good enough handful and launched it directly into the eyes of Jonathan Michaels. In the split second that followed, she pivoted, breaking into a full sprint for the duffel bag only a few yards behind her.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
Noticing An Linh getting up and sprinting towards her bag Jonathan sighed a breath of relief as he got up and went for the shotgun. While he was running his thoughts immediately turned to a scene he had remembered from the previous SOTF, the scene in which Peri Barclay unloaded his MAC-10 into countless of other students, Jonathan then had a breakthrough, An Linh had not come with him with her weapon, meaning she A.) Abandoned it or B.) Hasn't figured what it is, meaning it was small enough to fit inside the bag...it could be the infamous Ingram. If anything this caused Jonathan to run faster, he ran towards his shotgun and picked it up and scrambled towards Chad's bag, hoping that in it had a weapon, has he unzipped it his back was turned to An Linh.
Has fate would have it said zipper was stuck. Leaving a cursing Jonathan Michaels (with his shotgun to his side) open to any strike An Linh wanted to throw at him. They say that stress impairs judgment, well that was obviously what Jonathan was doing. The vision of the plane coming to him for the first time, the vision of the boy doing a small jig due to the shots of the terrorist. Except now conveniently he replaced the boy and An Linh the terrorist.
"Fuck, open god damn it..." Jonathan said in a hoarse whisper towards the bag, just hoping that it would pry itself open out of Jonathans chastisement, leaving him to run off and avoid all harm.
As the fates would have it Jonathan would not have that option, yet still he continued fighting with the zipper, fighting a battle he had already lost (OoC- Oh connections to the topic!).
OoC- Sorry for the shitty post guys, just nothing much to say...
Has fate would have it said zipper was stuck. Leaving a cursing Jonathan Michaels (with his shotgun to his side) open to any strike An Linh wanted to throw at him. They say that stress impairs judgment, well that was obviously what Jonathan was doing. The vision of the plane coming to him for the first time, the vision of the boy doing a small jig due to the shots of the terrorist. Except now conveniently he replaced the boy and An Linh the terrorist.
"Fuck, open god damn it..." Jonathan said in a hoarse whisper towards the bag, just hoping that it would pry itself open out of Jonathans chastisement, leaving him to run off and avoid all harm.
As the fates would have it Jonathan would not have that option, yet still he continued fighting with the zipper, fighting a battle he had already lost (OoC- Oh connections to the topic!).
OoC- Sorry for the shitty post guys, just nothing much to say...
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Run!
It was only a mere single, monosyllablic word that coursed through An Linh's mind as she dashed full speed for her bag in the short running distance beyond her, and never before did such a word fill An Linh with such meaning. Never for all her experience practicing track and racing sprints did such a simple word spur An Linh to the height of her ability, driving her beyond a limit she never knew existed until now. It was all she could think about as she made a desperate sprint for her daypack, her only source of safety at this very moment.
She was certain that she would feel her back burst apart with the pellets discharged from the shotgun at any time now.
For some reason or another, it never came, and for an almost disbelieving moment, An Linh suddenly registered the feeling of the bag in her hand. Without thinking, she had snatched it up and kept on running, if only for a short distance before she came back to her senses.
It was amazing how adrenaline could make the world seem as though it were run on fast-forward.
Dust flew into the air as she abruptly halted her sprint with a skid, her red canvas shoes raising a pile of dirt as they slid to a stop. It was then that she realized what a dangerous position she was in at this exact moment. Would she run, and risk the danger of having Jonathan retrieve the shotgun and shoot her down while she was sprinting off? Or would she make an attempt to beat him to the punch, attacking him first, and likewise risk being shot at a range of essentially point blank?
In the end, it was An Linh's pride that influenced her decision there and then.
No way am I going to turn tail and run away from this insane prick...
Crouching quickly, she nearly ripped off the zipper of the bag with her free hand, which may have been just as well, considering that she intended to open it. Her arm was thrust into the bag of equipment, searching, rummaging past the manuals, the first-aid kits, the flashlight.... soon enough, her other arm joined in the search.
With her hands, An Linh felt something. Gasping slightly, she grabbed onto her discovery. And she smiled.
They fit her hands as snugly, almost as comfortably as a pair of gloves might. They suited her completely, as though they were meant for her. And clenching them in both of her hands, she felt as though they would give her more strength and more power than she had ever felt before.
She stood up and turned, mustering all the stamina she had left to give her enough strength to break into yet another sprint again, this time towards the form of Jonathan behind her.
All An Linh could see was that he had his back turned towards her, struggling with something, and that he had averted his attention away from An Linh.
She smiled despite her rapid breathing, wondering if he could ever possibly have seen it coming.
Slowing down her sprint slightly, if only to make careful aim, An Linh clenched her fists, both armed with solid brass knuckles. Rearing her right hand, though her aching shoulder was screaming, she threw her brass-capped fist outwards, aiming to drive it directly into the back of Jonathan's neck.
It was only a mere single, monosyllablic word that coursed through An Linh's mind as she dashed full speed for her bag in the short running distance beyond her, and never before did such a word fill An Linh with such meaning. Never for all her experience practicing track and racing sprints did such a simple word spur An Linh to the height of her ability, driving her beyond a limit she never knew existed until now. It was all she could think about as she made a desperate sprint for her daypack, her only source of safety at this very moment.
She was certain that she would feel her back burst apart with the pellets discharged from the shotgun at any time now.
For some reason or another, it never came, and for an almost disbelieving moment, An Linh suddenly registered the feeling of the bag in her hand. Without thinking, she had snatched it up and kept on running, if only for a short distance before she came back to her senses.
It was amazing how adrenaline could make the world seem as though it were run on fast-forward.
Dust flew into the air as she abruptly halted her sprint with a skid, her red canvas shoes raising a pile of dirt as they slid to a stop. It was then that she realized what a dangerous position she was in at this exact moment. Would she run, and risk the danger of having Jonathan retrieve the shotgun and shoot her down while she was sprinting off? Or would she make an attempt to beat him to the punch, attacking him first, and likewise risk being shot at a range of essentially point blank?
In the end, it was An Linh's pride that influenced her decision there and then.
No way am I going to turn tail and run away from this insane prick...
Crouching quickly, she nearly ripped off the zipper of the bag with her free hand, which may have been just as well, considering that she intended to open it. Her arm was thrust into the bag of equipment, searching, rummaging past the manuals, the first-aid kits, the flashlight.... soon enough, her other arm joined in the search.
With her hands, An Linh felt something. Gasping slightly, she grabbed onto her discovery. And she smiled.
They fit her hands as snugly, almost as comfortably as a pair of gloves might. They suited her completely, as though they were meant for her. And clenching them in both of her hands, she felt as though they would give her more strength and more power than she had ever felt before.
She stood up and turned, mustering all the stamina she had left to give her enough strength to break into yet another sprint again, this time towards the form of Jonathan behind her.
All An Linh could see was that he had his back turned towards her, struggling with something, and that he had averted his attention away from An Linh.
She smiled despite her rapid breathing, wondering if he could ever possibly have seen it coming.
Slowing down her sprint slightly, if only to make careful aim, An Linh clenched her fists, both armed with solid brass knuckles. Rearing her right hand, though her aching shoulder was screaming, she threw her brass-capped fist outwards, aiming to drive it directly into the back of Jonathan's neck.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
Jonathan Michaels was used to getting hit in the head, it happens a lot when you're a boxer...however getting punched in the face with brass knuckles, was not something he anticipated. It was funny though, a moment before Jonathan got hit he had come to the realization that he really could've fought much harder. Thinking back, he realized how out of touch he was and the feeling of invincibility he once had disappeared instantly. It's true what they say, if you suck on ass you're eventually going to choke on shit, and Jonathan might as well have been sucking Tanesha Lexx's ass in this fight. So, here Jonathan was, 5'3" he was athletic, but he hadn't been training for six months. Was the high that he got when he had killed Chad, yes that was his name so great that he had thought that he could take on a trained martial artist with relatively no form what so ever?
It was at that moment that Jonathan remembered what the guy at NA had said at the beginning of every meeting, "The first thing that disappears when you get high is judgment" , so Jonathan misjudged An Linh, or overestimated himself, whatever the case Jonathan was about to be taught why he shouldn't be misjudging the powers of a trained female martial artist, in the way that only brass knuckles could cause someone to rethink something. Jonathan felt An Linh's punch connect with him on his temple and he immediatly felt himself tumble right to the side, to the side where he was tumbling (meaning that unless An Linh had become jumbo size he wasn't going to hit her and if there was a small chance someone was in the bushes, the bushes would've caught the weakened shells (meaning Jon was to far for the shot to have any effect).
So, Jonathan got up and rubbed the back of his head for a second, noticing some blood on his fingers his eyes widened, with the shotgun pointed at An Linh, Jonathan stood their in thought, no he was not going to waste another shell (He was down to five shots with the current load) and he didn't want to nor did he think he should've been letting out so much cartridges of ammo with a shot gun.
So Jonathan simply looked at his bag, which was slung on his shoulder and decided to forget Chad's weapon and just run out of there.
And so he did.
((Continued in: Jeux Sans Frontieres))
It was at that moment that Jonathan remembered what the guy at NA had said at the beginning of every meeting, "The first thing that disappears when you get high is judgment" , so Jonathan misjudged An Linh, or overestimated himself, whatever the case Jonathan was about to be taught why he shouldn't be misjudging the powers of a trained female martial artist, in the way that only brass knuckles could cause someone to rethink something. Jonathan felt An Linh's punch connect with him on his temple and he immediatly felt himself tumble right to the side, to the side where he was tumbling (meaning that unless An Linh had become jumbo size he wasn't going to hit her and if there was a small chance someone was in the bushes, the bushes would've caught the weakened shells (meaning Jon was to far for the shot to have any effect).
So, Jonathan got up and rubbed the back of his head for a second, noticing some blood on his fingers his eyes widened, with the shotgun pointed at An Linh, Jonathan stood their in thought, no he was not going to waste another shell (He was down to five shots with the current load) and he didn't want to nor did he think he should've been letting out so much cartridges of ammo with a shot gun.
So Jonathan simply looked at his bag, which was slung on his shoulder and decided to forget Chad's weapon and just run out of there.
And so he did.
((Continued in: Jeux Sans Frontieres))
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Sarah watched silently as the girl; An Linh Tuan, ran to her bag as Jonathan Michaels struggled with his. Sarah's face was deeply drawn into the events taking place in front of her, and a nagging voice in the back of her head wondered if one of the two of these kids from her school were going to end up dead. Thanks to the terrorist's instructions plus the video that she'd seen on the plane, it seemed like a distinct albeit frightening possibility. An Linh reached her bag and quickly reached in, grasping for whatever weapon she managed to have the good fortune of being assigned, and that turned out to be a pair of brass knuckles.
Wow, brass knuckles. You only see those in gang-fights and that kind of stuff. But how can you kill someone with brass knuckles, aside from punching their head into a gooey red mush?
Stopping, Sarah extracted herself from her thoughts and blinked to herself. Then she realized that - there was a way: exactly that!
Uh oh. Gooey red mush is NOT good! Not fucking good at all! The hell if I'm getting involved though. If these two want to actually try and kill each other, then they can go right ahead...that's not an activity I'd like to join!
An Linh ran towards Jonathan and smashed him in the back of the head, sending him reeling. As the boy turned around, feeling the blood on the back of his hands, Sarah saw him glance at the brass knuckles on An Linh's hands, and evidently, he decided that this would be a battle best fought on different terms, as he promptly turned around and fled from the area. An Linh made no effort to run after her, and instead seemed to relax a little bit and nurse her wounds (none of which Sarah could see).
It was at that point that Sarah made a bit of a mistake on her part. Up until now, she'd been the silent observer, watching in slight disbelief as her classmates fought one another. It wasn't that she refused to believe what was going on. No, she was far too smart for that. Instead, she kept hoping against hope that Ashton Kutcher would pop up and scream "You've been Punk'D" at her, so that she could walk up to him and bash his testicles in with the heel of her boot. It were those afformentioned boots that began to give her trouble in the kneeling position that she'd settled herself in. The boots were, unfortunately, not the kind of boots that you'd wear in the outdoors, and were most certainly not the kind that you could go hiking in. The ones that she were wearing were primarily intended for looking good, and frankly, weren't the most comfortable things ever. Remembering that she had a spare pair of running shoes in her duffel (she'd packed them in case she played any sports or did any hiking on the trip), and she moved to unzip the duffel. Grabbing the spare shoes out of it, she carefully adjusted to remove her boots. The first one didn't give her any trouble at all, but when she lifted her foot to remove the second boot, she lost her balance, and came tumbling out from within the bushes, both of her packs tumbling down beside her, right in front of An Linh Tuan, who looked awfully menacing with the two brass knuckles on each of her hands. Shocked, Sarah looked up at the other girl, a boot in one hand, a mess of shoes and her two packs. She hadn't even looked in her SOTF-assigned bag to see what her weapon was yet, and this fact worried Sarah a little. If the girl was thinking of...
What was it that they said? "Playing the game?" Hrmph. Some game!
...if she was thinking of 'playing the game', Sarah knew that she'd need a weapon to defend herself.
Or at least scare the opposition into thinking that I'm some sort of threat, until they realize that I'm really not...
Not making any sudden movements, Sarah still held the boot in her hand, and waited for An Linh to make the first move.
Wow, brass knuckles. You only see those in gang-fights and that kind of stuff. But how can you kill someone with brass knuckles, aside from punching their head into a gooey red mush?
Stopping, Sarah extracted herself from her thoughts and blinked to herself. Then she realized that - there was a way: exactly that!
Uh oh. Gooey red mush is NOT good! Not fucking good at all! The hell if I'm getting involved though. If these two want to actually try and kill each other, then they can go right ahead...that's not an activity I'd like to join!
An Linh ran towards Jonathan and smashed him in the back of the head, sending him reeling. As the boy turned around, feeling the blood on the back of his hands, Sarah saw him glance at the brass knuckles on An Linh's hands, and evidently, he decided that this would be a battle best fought on different terms, as he promptly turned around and fled from the area. An Linh made no effort to run after her, and instead seemed to relax a little bit and nurse her wounds (none of which Sarah could see).
It was at that point that Sarah made a bit of a mistake on her part. Up until now, she'd been the silent observer, watching in slight disbelief as her classmates fought one another. It wasn't that she refused to believe what was going on. No, she was far too smart for that. Instead, she kept hoping against hope that Ashton Kutcher would pop up and scream "You've been Punk'D" at her, so that she could walk up to him and bash his testicles in with the heel of her boot. It were those afformentioned boots that began to give her trouble in the kneeling position that she'd settled herself in. The boots were, unfortunately, not the kind of boots that you'd wear in the outdoors, and were most certainly not the kind that you could go hiking in. The ones that she were wearing were primarily intended for looking good, and frankly, weren't the most comfortable things ever. Remembering that she had a spare pair of running shoes in her duffel (she'd packed them in case she played any sports or did any hiking on the trip), and she moved to unzip the duffel. Grabbing the spare shoes out of it, she carefully adjusted to remove her boots. The first one didn't give her any trouble at all, but when she lifted her foot to remove the second boot, she lost her balance, and came tumbling out from within the bushes, both of her packs tumbling down beside her, right in front of An Linh Tuan, who looked awfully menacing with the two brass knuckles on each of her hands. Shocked, Sarah looked up at the other girl, a boot in one hand, a mess of shoes and her two packs. She hadn't even looked in her SOTF-assigned bag to see what her weapon was yet, and this fact worried Sarah a little. If the girl was thinking of...
What was it that they said? "Playing the game?" Hrmph. Some game!
...if she was thinking of 'playing the game', Sarah knew that she'd need a weapon to defend herself.
Or at least scare the opposition into thinking that I'm some sort of threat, until they realize that I'm really not...
Not making any sudden movements, Sarah still held the boot in her hand, and waited for An Linh to make the first move.
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LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
It was a sickening sense of delight and triumph that widened the grim smile on An Linh's face as the brass knuckles that decorated her right fist collided into the side of Jonathan's face with an unsettling crunch. Simply the force she felt as she drive her fist directly into the side of his face, hitting flesh and bone and muscle in one impact was enough for An Linh to simply imagine the devastating effect of the punch itself, compounded while armed with the knuckle dusters.
Feeling as though the fight were over already, she relaxed her stance into a neutral one, simply observing silently as the force of the blow sent Jonathan tumbling away, well out of punching range. But that was fine. If he got up, all she had to do was hit him again, until either he was down for good or until she felt that she had taken enough range for the earlier damage he had dealt her. Whichever came first was fine with her.
She froze in place however as the shotgun was pointed towards her, and in an instant, all sense of triumph and contempt that An Linh felt for all her arrogance at successfully delivering that single punch dissolved into fear and uncertainty once again. For a moment, she was certain that within the split second that followed, her gut would burst apart from the force of some six hundred pellets embedding her torso, or that, like Chad, her head would explode from the devastating power of a fired shotgun that had met its mark.
But it never came. As it turned out, Jonathan stood up, rubbing a bit of the blood from his temple before turning tail and running off to leave a solitary An Linh, still in a state of apprehension.
He never fired. Thus An Linh was spared the devastating injury of a gunshot wound, not to mention death itself. Though why he spared An Linh, the girl in question was unable to comprehend. For the time being, she was simply grateful that she had been given a second chance at survival, after making such a mistake that may as well have turned out to be fatal.
She sighed, struggling to perish the thought and relax her body from the tense state it had fallen into. Shifting her feet to feel the balance of her wait exchanged between them, An Linh flexed and unflexed her hands, both still donning the brass knuckles. Though they felt snug and secure on their fingers, they burned with heat now, scalding her skin slightly.
Barely an hour past, already I'm hating this...
Her gut instinct told her that now yet still was not the time to relax or recollect her thoughts, for a shuffle in the underbrush behind her sent her swirling to meet the one about to attack her, giving her barely any breathing time after her scuffle with Jonathan....
The other girl faceplanted into the grass in front of An Linh, next to her fallen daypacks and tangled runners. One foot was missing a boot, the said footwear currently being held in the newcomer's hand.
An Linh blinked, not knowing what to make of it. Surely the girl could not have possibly been thinking of attacking her from behind with a boot...then again, that was about the same thing An Linh had done to Jonathan, except she entered the scuffle wielding absolutely nothing at all. Yet on the other hand, she didn't exactly trip and fall while sneaking up on him either.
Dark eyes interlocked with dark eyes as the two girls stared at eachother in silence, as though either waited for the other to make the first move. After much deliberation, An Linh sighed and looked down at the girl.
"If you're looking for trouble, I'd be happy to oblige. Because, honestly, I don't exactly feel like getting killed by a kid my age any time soon, get what I mean?"
Though her voice had an edge of harshness and suspicion to it, there was a certain amount of weariness that made the warning seem only half-hearted, as An Linh didn't seem to want to have to put up with yet another fistfight.
Feeling as though the fight were over already, she relaxed her stance into a neutral one, simply observing silently as the force of the blow sent Jonathan tumbling away, well out of punching range. But that was fine. If he got up, all she had to do was hit him again, until either he was down for good or until she felt that she had taken enough range for the earlier damage he had dealt her. Whichever came first was fine with her.
She froze in place however as the shotgun was pointed towards her, and in an instant, all sense of triumph and contempt that An Linh felt for all her arrogance at successfully delivering that single punch dissolved into fear and uncertainty once again. For a moment, she was certain that within the split second that followed, her gut would burst apart from the force of some six hundred pellets embedding her torso, or that, like Chad, her head would explode from the devastating power of a fired shotgun that had met its mark.
But it never came. As it turned out, Jonathan stood up, rubbing a bit of the blood from his temple before turning tail and running off to leave a solitary An Linh, still in a state of apprehension.
He never fired. Thus An Linh was spared the devastating injury of a gunshot wound, not to mention death itself. Though why he spared An Linh, the girl in question was unable to comprehend. For the time being, she was simply grateful that she had been given a second chance at survival, after making such a mistake that may as well have turned out to be fatal.
She sighed, struggling to perish the thought and relax her body from the tense state it had fallen into. Shifting her feet to feel the balance of her wait exchanged between them, An Linh flexed and unflexed her hands, both still donning the brass knuckles. Though they felt snug and secure on their fingers, they burned with heat now, scalding her skin slightly.
Barely an hour past, already I'm hating this...
Her gut instinct told her that now yet still was not the time to relax or recollect her thoughts, for a shuffle in the underbrush behind her sent her swirling to meet the one about to attack her, giving her barely any breathing time after her scuffle with Jonathan....
The other girl faceplanted into the grass in front of An Linh, next to her fallen daypacks and tangled runners. One foot was missing a boot, the said footwear currently being held in the newcomer's hand.
An Linh blinked, not knowing what to make of it. Surely the girl could not have possibly been thinking of attacking her from behind with a boot...then again, that was about the same thing An Linh had done to Jonathan, except she entered the scuffle wielding absolutely nothing at all. Yet on the other hand, she didn't exactly trip and fall while sneaking up on him either.
Dark eyes interlocked with dark eyes as the two girls stared at eachother in silence, as though either waited for the other to make the first move. After much deliberation, An Linh sighed and looked down at the girl.
"If you're looking for trouble, I'd be happy to oblige. Because, honestly, I don't exactly feel like getting killed by a kid my age any time soon, get what I mean?"
Though her voice had an edge of harshness and suspicion to it, there was a certain amount of weariness that made the warning seem only half-hearted, as An Linh didn't seem to want to have to put up with yet another fistfight.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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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Strawberry Prince†
- Posts: 274
- Joined: Sun Aug 19, 2018 5:55 pm
Sparta and Athens. Pelopennesian War. No, no that won't work. Athens lost because of disease and I don't have that at my disposal obviously.....
B41 Alexander Bee pondered on the types of war methods the anceits used. He had already made up his mind that he would have to trust into his world history knowledge in order to win this game. He needed to becareful, and pick the right kind of stradegy.
Carthage vs Romans? No, that won't work either.....
Alexander could lure people to danger, which can act liek the disease. However he would have to know everyones position on the island. He couldn't do anything because his didn't have a reusable weapon. One match and he was out.
Hmmmm....Alexander the Great went right for the Darius and made him retreat with his persian troops. But I can't very well go and attack Danya now can I....
As the boy searched thorugh his memory banks of where and how, he stayed aware of his surroundings. If anyone attacked him he would be a goner, unless they had a gun. His landmine would explode if a bullet peirced, making him and whoever is around him a goner.
Well I only have one tool at my disposal and thats a landmine. But I don't know where to place it. A building is probably the best place...
Yes, a building is the best place. Once contact is made the whole foundation of the building will be destoryed making the whole building collapse. It would be perfect, people would probably want to hide in buildings. Its a common stradegy among simple minded people unlike himself.
But which building? He obviously had to be a building that would make an impact on the rest of the island....Not houses or barns or anything like that. Needs to be big....
Looking up Alexander could see the top part of the pearly white Lighthouse. Most of its immage was covered by the trees of the forest but that was all he needed. The Lighthouse was a perfect place, if he could make the explosion big enough the whole thing will collapse.
Thats great! Hopefully noone has gone there yet. I doubt it though, it is idiotic to take shelter inside of the lighthouse. There is no where else to go but up, and if someone breaks in and corners you than you have nowhere to go. People tend to overlook this small fact, but hah! I did not!
As he continued to think about the skeletal plan of blowing up the lighthouse he stopped seeing two girls exchange conversation. They seemed a bit paranoid until one of the girls declared she didn't want to fight.
Perfect! Now I can join up with these guys for protection. Oh how my luck is going!
"Oh excuse me?" said Alexander entering the clearing. "I don't want to fight either." he stated clearly. He didn't want to look like a threat to them or else they might resist and try to kill him with whatever weapons they have. "Do you mind if i joined up with you guys?" he asked in a kind of nervous tone. Even though he calculated the situation anything could still happen.
B41 Alexander Bee pondered on the types of war methods the anceits used. He had already made up his mind that he would have to trust into his world history knowledge in order to win this game. He needed to becareful, and pick the right kind of stradegy.
Carthage vs Romans? No, that won't work either.....
Alexander could lure people to danger, which can act liek the disease. However he would have to know everyones position on the island. He couldn't do anything because his didn't have a reusable weapon. One match and he was out.
Hmmmm....Alexander the Great went right for the Darius and made him retreat with his persian troops. But I can't very well go and attack Danya now can I....
As the boy searched thorugh his memory banks of where and how, he stayed aware of his surroundings. If anyone attacked him he would be a goner, unless they had a gun. His landmine would explode if a bullet peirced, making him and whoever is around him a goner.
Well I only have one tool at my disposal and thats a landmine. But I don't know where to place it. A building is probably the best place...
Yes, a building is the best place. Once contact is made the whole foundation of the building will be destoryed making the whole building collapse. It would be perfect, people would probably want to hide in buildings. Its a common stradegy among simple minded people unlike himself.
But which building? He obviously had to be a building that would make an impact on the rest of the island....Not houses or barns or anything like that. Needs to be big....
Looking up Alexander could see the top part of the pearly white Lighthouse. Most of its immage was covered by the trees of the forest but that was all he needed. The Lighthouse was a perfect place, if he could make the explosion big enough the whole thing will collapse.
Thats great! Hopefully noone has gone there yet. I doubt it though, it is idiotic to take shelter inside of the lighthouse. There is no where else to go but up, and if someone breaks in and corners you than you have nowhere to go. People tend to overlook this small fact, but hah! I did not!
As he continued to think about the skeletal plan of blowing up the lighthouse he stopped seeing two girls exchange conversation. They seemed a bit paranoid until one of the girls declared she didn't want to fight.
Perfect! Now I can join up with these guys for protection. Oh how my luck is going!
"Oh excuse me?" said Alexander entering the clearing. "I don't want to fight either." he stated clearly. He didn't want to look like a threat to them or else they might resist and try to kill him with whatever weapons they have. "Do you mind if i joined up with you guys?" he asked in a kind of nervous tone. Even though he calculated the situation anything could still happen.
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