((Bryant Carver continued from Trauma))
Bryant was, for the most part, without a plan after leaving the jailhouse. Not like this was a new thing. All he wanted to do now was find Juliet (and yes, even her pet bitch Karl), and just lay down somewhere until everything was done. He was tired, his side hurt, and he just wanted everything to be done.
He was back out in the open ground of the compound, thinking he'd try the mess hall. At the very least, even if Juliet wasn't there, maybe he could snake some more food. He was getting tired of the shit in his and Sechooler's bag. And hopefully it'd be free of crazy white people. The Program wasn't doing much to change his opinion of those of the more fortunate race.
"Can't be good for ratings, people seeing the nigger still alive. Probably love the blood, though." He muttered as his feet started him toward the mess hall.
Absolution
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Casey The Undead*
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((Megan Jacobson, continued from I'm Younger Than That Now))
((All GMing approved))
Megan had, of course, lied directly to the faces of her friends and fellow Team Bitchin members, but it was all for a good cause. Or at least, that's what she was trying to convince herself. The area directly around the Firing Range was slowly getting bigger and bigger as Megan walked. She hadn't found anything yet, nothing all that useful anyways, and she refused to stop until she stumbled across a gun or knife of some sort.
She ended up stumbling upon a lot worse.
Bryant. Fucking. Carver. She was certain. She was positive. There weren't that many black people at school, even less on the Program, and she knew his face. Bryant Carver. Bryant Carver, who had killed Ben. Bryant Carver, who was a monster. Bryant Carver, who Megan had sworn to take down.
Bryant Carver, who wasn't facing her.
Bryant Carver, who Megan had the drop on.
She blinked, staring at him. He had a gun. She could take it. Once in a lifetime chance. She could make him pay for everything he had done. She could start her retribution, start her revenge, make people like John Fucking Ferrera and Maddie Harris see that they had messed with the wrong helmet-wearing white bitch.
Megan hesitated. Do it. Do it. Make him pay. Now. Or. Never.
She ran full speed at the boy, headbutting him. He crumpled to the ground, dropping the gun as he fell. Megan scrambled, grabbed it, shakily clicked the safety off- I think, I've never used a gun before, what am I doing- and pointed it at Bryant.
She was one trigger pull away from taking the monster out.
But she wanted some answers first.
"You! You...you know who I am?" Her voice was shaking. There were tears in her eyes. The gun wavered. What am I doing? This isn't me, I'm not a monster, put the gun down, no, no, too late now, gotta make him pay, gotta make him pay. "Well, here's a fucking hint! You...you killed a good friend of mine." She pushed the gun closer to his face.
"Y-you have ten seconds to start explaining why before I end you. You have no idea who you're fucking with right here. Don't make me pull the trigger. Why. Did. You. Do. It?"
Megan was finally going to get answers. Finally going to get revenge.
She'd never been more scared in her entire life.
"...Ten...nine...eight..."
((All GMing approved))
Megan had, of course, lied directly to the faces of her friends and fellow Team Bitchin members, but it was all for a good cause. Or at least, that's what she was trying to convince herself. The area directly around the Firing Range was slowly getting bigger and bigger as Megan walked. She hadn't found anything yet, nothing all that useful anyways, and she refused to stop until she stumbled across a gun or knife of some sort.
She ended up stumbling upon a lot worse.
Bryant. Fucking. Carver. She was certain. She was positive. There weren't that many black people at school, even less on the Program, and she knew his face. Bryant Carver. Bryant Carver, who had killed Ben. Bryant Carver, who was a monster. Bryant Carver, who Megan had sworn to take down.
Bryant Carver, who wasn't facing her.
Bryant Carver, who Megan had the drop on.
She blinked, staring at him. He had a gun. She could take it. Once in a lifetime chance. She could make him pay for everything he had done. She could start her retribution, start her revenge, make people like John Fucking Ferrera and Maddie Harris see that they had messed with the wrong helmet-wearing white bitch.
Megan hesitated. Do it. Do it. Make him pay. Now. Or. Never.
She ran full speed at the boy, headbutting him. He crumpled to the ground, dropping the gun as he fell. Megan scrambled, grabbed it, shakily clicked the safety off- I think, I've never used a gun before, what am I doing- and pointed it at Bryant.
She was one trigger pull away from taking the monster out.
But she wanted some answers first.
"You! You...you know who I am?" Her voice was shaking. There were tears in her eyes. The gun wavered. What am I doing? This isn't me, I'm not a monster, put the gun down, no, no, too late now, gotta make him pay, gotta make him pay. "Well, here's a fucking hint! You...you killed a good friend of mine." She pushed the gun closer to his face.
"Y-you have ten seconds to start explaining why before I end you. You have no idea who you're fucking with right here. Don't make me pull the trigger. Why. Did. You. Do. It?"
Megan was finally going to get answers. Finally going to get revenge.
She'd never been more scared in her entire life.
"...Ten...nine...eight..."
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An idle moment, a time where he didn't have to worry about anything, and then he was right back in the shit. He had started picking up the pace toward the mess hall when something exploded in his lower back. Bryant was hit by something that felt like an angry goat, and he went sprawling to the ground, losing his footing through a mixture of surprise and the force of the impact.
He rolled across his side, his injured side, and the pain tore a cry from him. Still, he managed to turn the fall into an awkward roll, and he scrambled to his feet.
Not that it mattered. The girl that had hit him had his gun, had it aimed at him. She had murder in her eyes. Seeing it from here, he wondered if it was what Sechooler saw before Bryant destroyed him. For a cold-gut second, he was honest-to-god terrified.
White bitches with guns. Bane of my fucking existence.
He raised his hands again, the new pain in his back making it a bit difficult.
She was asking him questions now, including the big one. Why. It was always why. Always the hard one, the one he didn't know how to answer himself. And now here was this little white girl, about to kill him for it.
Bryant had always guessed someone, someone related to one of the kids he killed, would have felt raw about it, would have wanted to exact some kind of justice. He guessed he never really would have been ready for it.
He held back the epithets, the insults, the rage. He had questions of his own now.
"Was it Mike, or was it Ben?"
He rolled across his side, his injured side, and the pain tore a cry from him. Still, he managed to turn the fall into an awkward roll, and he scrambled to his feet.
Not that it mattered. The girl that had hit him had his gun, had it aimed at him. She had murder in her eyes. Seeing it from here, he wondered if it was what Sechooler saw before Bryant destroyed him. For a cold-gut second, he was honest-to-god terrified.
White bitches with guns. Bane of my fucking existence.
He raised his hands again, the new pain in his back making it a bit difficult.
She was asking him questions now, including the big one. Why. It was always why. Always the hard one, the one he didn't know how to answer himself. And now here was this little white girl, about to kill him for it.
Bryant had always guessed someone, someone related to one of the kids he killed, would have felt raw about it, would have wanted to exact some kind of justice. He guessed he never really would have been ready for it.
He held back the epithets, the insults, the rage. He had questions of his own now.
"Was it Mike, or was it Ben?"
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Megan blinked, taken aback. She hadn't been expecting that. "You know...Ben. It was Ben."
Ben, who used to go out for ice cream with you, and crack jokes at inappropriate moments, and talk all day about what happened on the Program with you, and who dealt with your shit when you couldn't deal with anything, Ben who was your rock, who this motherfucker killed.
Megan narrowed her eyes, shoving the even closer into Bryant's face. "Why did you remember his name, huh? So you could always cherish the fucking look on his face when you murdered him? You're a monster, a killer, a sick fucking freak, and you still haven't answered my question."
She rested her finger on the trigger. "I think your time is running very short, so you better start answering right fucking now, you hear me? You made a big fucking mistake killing my best friend for no reason. A big. Fucking. Mistake. Now, where was I? Oh yeah."
"Seven..."
Why would he remember their names?
"...Six..."
Because he's a monster, and he doesn't want to forget the pain he caused.
"...Five..."
But he looks...sad...no, there's no sadness, no guilt, just fear. I'm seeing things.
"...Four..."
He doesn't look like a monster.
I can't actually kill him...
He doesn't know that.
Put the gun down.
No. Not yet. He hasn't answered me yet.
"...Three..."
Ben, who used to go out for ice cream with you, and crack jokes at inappropriate moments, and talk all day about what happened on the Program with you, and who dealt with your shit when you couldn't deal with anything, Ben who was your rock, who this motherfucker killed.
Megan narrowed her eyes, shoving the even closer into Bryant's face. "Why did you remember his name, huh? So you could always cherish the fucking look on his face when you murdered him? You're a monster, a killer, a sick fucking freak, and you still haven't answered my question."
She rested her finger on the trigger. "I think your time is running very short, so you better start answering right fucking now, you hear me? You made a big fucking mistake killing my best friend for no reason. A big. Fucking. Mistake. Now, where was I? Oh yeah."
"Seven..."
Why would he remember their names?
"...Six..."
Because he's a monster, and he doesn't want to forget the pain he caused.
"...Five..."
But he looks...sad...no, there's no sadness, no guilt, just fear. I'm seeing things.
"...Four..."
He doesn't look like a monster.
I can't actually kill him...
He doesn't know that.
Put the gun down.
No. Not yet. He hasn't answered me yet.
"...Three..."
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The girl came closer. The gun came closer. Bryant's imminent death came closer. Life seemed to have become a series of things impeding his space, getting in his grill. Bryant didn't back up, anyway. It was Ben that meant something to this girl, Ben who had tried to gun him down, probably thought he was doing some good. This girl had business with Bryant, and he wasn't about to deny her a chance to settle up.
Truth be told, maybe Bryant welcomed the end now. He didn't accept it when it was one of the Mason twins on the other end of the gun. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because he hadn't done a damn thing to either of them when the one with the gun came calling.
But this girl, he had wronged. Harshly, from the sound of it.
But does she deserve to live with it?
He hated white people. Had since he was little. They ran the world, made it hell for everyone who was the wrong skin tone. They spit on him, they treated him like shit, they had caused him to be short a father since he was young.
But in here, it didn't seem to matter. Murder equalized them all, for better or for worse, dragged them all down to the same level.
"He shot at me. Almost got me, too. I was just luckier, I guess." Bryant coughed, clearing away a lump that had been forming in his throat.
"I remember his name..." He stopped, wondering how to proceed." "I remember his name because if someone's dead because of me, I owe 'em as fucking much to know who they were. Only respect I can give him at this point, white motherfucker or not. No one should die nameless."
He sighed, an extended exhale through the nose. The air burned, like his own lungs were punishing him for what he had done.
Truth be told, maybe Bryant welcomed the end now. He didn't accept it when it was one of the Mason twins on the other end of the gun. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because he hadn't done a damn thing to either of them when the one with the gun came calling.
But this girl, he had wronged. Harshly, from the sound of it.
But does she deserve to live with it?
He hated white people. Had since he was little. They ran the world, made it hell for everyone who was the wrong skin tone. They spit on him, they treated him like shit, they had caused him to be short a father since he was young.
But in here, it didn't seem to matter. Murder equalized them all, for better or for worse, dragged them all down to the same level.
"He shot at me. Almost got me, too. I was just luckier, I guess." Bryant coughed, clearing away a lump that had been forming in his throat.
"I remember his name..." He stopped, wondering how to proceed." "I remember his name because if someone's dead because of me, I owe 'em as fucking much to know who they were. Only respect I can give him at this point, white motherfucker or not. No one should die nameless."
He sighed, an extended exhale through the nose. The air burned, like his own lungs were punishing him for what he had done.
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Megan stared at Bryant, unsure of what to think. Ben shot him? No. No, Ben wouldn't do that. Why would he do that? No, he wouldn't, no way. No way. He's lying. Bryant's lying, of course, to get himself ahead, to make himself look better, so I won't kill him.
The gun was shaking again. Megan was so uncertain of what she was doing. She had come into this confrontation so confident, but Bryant...he almost seemed sorry.
She clutched the gun tighter, forcing it steady. "No. You're a liar. Ben wouldn't do that. I...I don't believe you."
But I do...a little bit...don't I? Fuck. Fuck I don't even know anymore. I don't want to do this. I don't want to hurt anyone. Fuck. Fuck.
Megan took in a shaky breath, trying to stop the tears. Bryant kept talking. He remembered Ben's name for noble reasons? No. No. It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be possible for Bryant Carver, the monster, to have actual guilt.
If Bryant could feel guilty then so could John Fucking Ferrera, so could Maddie Harris, so could anyone. Everything Megan was so certain of, her hatred, her anger, it was suddenly all wrong. It wasn't right.
No. Bryant Carver is a killer. He feels nothing. He can't. It's not possible. It's not fucking possible.
"I don't believe you!" Megan was screaming, tears streaming down her cheeks, the gun shaking again. Her breath came in short bursts. "No...No...you're a liar and a monster and...and..."
Megan stopped. Her finger was on the trigger.
"And I'm going to kill you now."
Her voice was almost a whisper. Her entire body was shaking. She kept her grip on the gun, kept the gun in Bryant's face.
But she didn't pull the trigger.
Don't do this.
She hesitated.
Don't. Do. This.
"I'm going to kill you..." Megan whispered it again.
She understood fully that she was trying to convince herself of that, and not Bryant. That only made her pause more.
"So..so...if you got anything t-to say then...then s-s-say it."
The gun was shaking again. Megan was so uncertain of what she was doing. She had come into this confrontation so confident, but Bryant...he almost seemed sorry.
She clutched the gun tighter, forcing it steady. "No. You're a liar. Ben wouldn't do that. I...I don't believe you."
But I do...a little bit...don't I? Fuck. Fuck I don't even know anymore. I don't want to do this. I don't want to hurt anyone. Fuck. Fuck.
Megan took in a shaky breath, trying to stop the tears. Bryant kept talking. He remembered Ben's name for noble reasons? No. No. It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be possible for Bryant Carver, the monster, to have actual guilt.
If Bryant could feel guilty then so could John Fucking Ferrera, so could Maddie Harris, so could anyone. Everything Megan was so certain of, her hatred, her anger, it was suddenly all wrong. It wasn't right.
No. Bryant Carver is a killer. He feels nothing. He can't. It's not possible. It's not fucking possible.
"I don't believe you!" Megan was screaming, tears streaming down her cheeks, the gun shaking again. Her breath came in short bursts. "No...No...you're a liar and a monster and...and..."
Megan stopped. Her finger was on the trigger.
"And I'm going to kill you now."
Her voice was almost a whisper. Her entire body was shaking. She kept her grip on the gun, kept the gun in Bryant's face.
But she didn't pull the trigger.
Don't do this.
She hesitated.
Don't. Do. This.
"I'm going to kill you..." Megan whispered it again.
She understood fully that she was trying to convince herself of that, and not Bryant. That only made her pause more.
"So..so...if you got anything t-to say then...then s-s-say it."
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So, this was it. He was gonna get done, right here.
But Bryant really wished it didn't have to be this girl. Justifiable reason or not, she was innocent. White or not, she was innocent. Her hands were as clean as his hands were fucking dirty. She was like Marilyn. Like Kendra.
Fucking idea was this for it to be so hard?
He exhaled, through his mouth this time. He could see the pain in the girl's eyes. She wanted to do this about as much as he did. Not much at all. But she was going to force herself to.
"You do what you gotta do, girl. You do what you need to do." He dropped his hands, idly put his fists into his palms and popped the knuckles. A habit his Ma would've condemned if she was watching.
"I'd just as soon you not have to deal with this shit, like me. But I'ma tell you...No, I'ma ask you. If you're really gonna do it, just....remember my name. I remembered Ben for you. Just...do the same for me."
He let his hands drop, giving Megan a clear shot at his chest. He closed his eyes.
But Bryant really wished it didn't have to be this girl. Justifiable reason or not, she was innocent. White or not, she was innocent. Her hands were as clean as his hands were fucking dirty. She was like Marilyn. Like Kendra.
Fucking idea was this for it to be so hard?
He exhaled, through his mouth this time. He could see the pain in the girl's eyes. She wanted to do this about as much as he did. Not much at all. But she was going to force herself to.
"You do what you gotta do, girl. You do what you need to do." He dropped his hands, idly put his fists into his palms and popped the knuckles. A habit his Ma would've condemned if she was watching.
"I'd just as soon you not have to deal with this shit, like me. But I'ma tell you...No, I'ma ask you. If you're really gonna do it, just....remember my name. I remembered Ben for you. Just...do the same for me."
He let his hands drop, giving Megan a clear shot at his chest. He closed his eyes.
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Megan stopped breathing. She wasn't sure for how long, but she just stopped. At least ten seconds. Maybe longer. Her chest ached.
He...he was giving her a shot. He was letting her do this. No. No that wasn't how this worked, he was supposed to fight and get angry and scream, he was supposed to die defiant, he was supposed to die angry and a monster, he was supposed to be a monster why wasn't he a MONSTER?!
He wanted Megan to remember him. That was all he asked. Like he remembered Ben.
And just like that Megan realized that he had felt guilty all along. This kid wasn't a monster. He was just a kid. Just like her.
"No...no no no no no." Megan breathed in heavily, every part of her aching. She was full out sobbing now, her hands so shaky she couldn't land the shot even if she wanted too.
She dropped the gun, letting it clatter to the ground. "You...you were supposed to be evil!" Megan was screaming again, sobbing still. She couldn't see anything through the tears. The whole world was blurry, and stupid, and angry, and wrong.
"You were supposed to be a monster, don't you get that? You were supposed to be a villain, so I could destroy you, so I could be a hero, so I could avenge Ben and...and let him be okay, in my head, and let me think that he hadn't shot you first, you...you were supposed to be evil..." Megan breathed in that pathetic, broken way that air came out when you were trying to hold back tears. She didn't want to do this, she didn't want to break down again, but it wasn't right.
"It's not fair! It's not fair! My friends are dead, and I-I couldn't save them, and I can't even kill the people who killed them! I can't even avenge their deaths! They died for nothing! They died for nothing and I have to live with it! Me! It's not fair...it's not fair..."
Megan gave up trying to hold back her tears, letting them flow freely. Snot, tears, anger, sadness, hate, betrayal, self-loathing, everything just mixed together. Megan crumpled to her knees, pathetically. She could barely breathe she was crying so hard.
"I...it's not fair. It's not fair. Why couldn't you have been evil? Why couldn't I have just killed you? Why..."
Megan suddenly felt like she was 6 again, wondering where her grandmother had gone, or like she was 10 and 11, wondering why her aunts had died so young, or like she was 12 and she had just finally given up and broken down. She felt so small and weak and pathetic that she wished Bryant would just grab the gun and put a bullet between her eyes, just to make everything easier.
She looked at the sky, wondering if whatever was up there had an answer for her. "Why does everyone I love die?"
She sobbed again.
Megan wasn't sure she'd ever stop.
He...he was giving her a shot. He was letting her do this. No. No that wasn't how this worked, he was supposed to fight and get angry and scream, he was supposed to die defiant, he was supposed to die angry and a monster, he was supposed to be a monster why wasn't he a MONSTER?!
He wanted Megan to remember him. That was all he asked. Like he remembered Ben.
And just like that Megan realized that he had felt guilty all along. This kid wasn't a monster. He was just a kid. Just like her.
"No...no no no no no." Megan breathed in heavily, every part of her aching. She was full out sobbing now, her hands so shaky she couldn't land the shot even if she wanted too.
She dropped the gun, letting it clatter to the ground. "You...you were supposed to be evil!" Megan was screaming again, sobbing still. She couldn't see anything through the tears. The whole world was blurry, and stupid, and angry, and wrong.
"You were supposed to be a monster, don't you get that? You were supposed to be a villain, so I could destroy you, so I could be a hero, so I could avenge Ben and...and let him be okay, in my head, and let me think that he hadn't shot you first, you...you were supposed to be evil..." Megan breathed in that pathetic, broken way that air came out when you were trying to hold back tears. She didn't want to do this, she didn't want to break down again, but it wasn't right.
"It's not fair! It's not fair! My friends are dead, and I-I couldn't save them, and I can't even kill the people who killed them! I can't even avenge their deaths! They died for nothing! They died for nothing and I have to live with it! Me! It's not fair...it's not fair..."
Megan gave up trying to hold back her tears, letting them flow freely. Snot, tears, anger, sadness, hate, betrayal, self-loathing, everything just mixed together. Megan crumpled to her knees, pathetically. She could barely breathe she was crying so hard.
"I...it's not fair. It's not fair. Why couldn't you have been evil? Why couldn't I have just killed you? Why..."
Megan suddenly felt like she was 6 again, wondering where her grandmother had gone, or like she was 10 and 11, wondering why her aunts had died so young, or like she was 12 and she had just finally given up and broken down. She felt so small and weak and pathetic that she wished Bryant would just grab the gun and put a bullet between her eyes, just to make everything easier.
She looked at the sky, wondering if whatever was up there had an answer for her. "Why does everyone I love die?"
She sobbed again.
Megan wasn't sure she'd ever stop.
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The bullets never came. There were only tears. Bryant opened his eyes, saw that Megan was at his feet, sobbing her eyes out, the gun on the ground and not in her hands.
Oh god. How do..How do I turn her off?
He wasn't ready for this, figured he was just dead. But no. Something broke in this girl.
He damn sure wasn't ready for what he did next. Faced with a sobbing white girl that had apparently been through some bullshit might have forced his hand. He didn't even like touching white people.
But here he was, kneeling down beside the girl, nudging the shotgun out of way with his foot. His arms, arms that formerly had only been used to punch the living shit out of sparring partner, were reaching our, wrapping around her.
First time for every goddamn thing?
He hugged the crying girl in trembling arms, his chin resting gently in her hair.
"Shh, shh, shh. Stop. Stop. It can't...can't be everyone. You got people left at home, people that I bet give a shit about you."
He squeezed the crying girl in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for killing Ben, I'm sorry for not being the evil you want me to be. I'm sorry for all this shit."
He rocked her, gently, still trying to find the off button.
Ronnie would kick my ass if he saw this.
Oh god. How do..How do I turn her off?
He wasn't ready for this, figured he was just dead. But no. Something broke in this girl.
He damn sure wasn't ready for what he did next. Faced with a sobbing white girl that had apparently been through some bullshit might have forced his hand. He didn't even like touching white people.
But here he was, kneeling down beside the girl, nudging the shotgun out of way with his foot. His arms, arms that formerly had only been used to punch the living shit out of sparring partner, were reaching our, wrapping around her.
First time for every goddamn thing?
He hugged the crying girl in trembling arms, his chin resting gently in her hair.
"Shh, shh, shh. Stop. Stop. It can't...can't be everyone. You got people left at home, people that I bet give a shit about you."
He squeezed the crying girl in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for killing Ben, I'm sorry for not being the evil you want me to be. I'm sorry for all this shit."
He rocked her, gently, still trying to find the off button.
Ronnie would kick my ass if he saw this.
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Megan was...being hugged? She looked up, trying to furiously blink the tears away from her eyes.
Bryant Carver was hugging her.
Of all the weird things that had happened to her on the Program, this probably took the cake.
She smiled, weakly, tears still flowing but her breath calming. "Yeah...I guess. My parents and my brother." She let out a small snort of laughter. "And my dog. She'd be pissed if I died. I keep her ass nice and fat."
She looked up at Bryant, genuinely smiling. She wrapped her arms around Bryant, hugging him back. "It's okay. I just...I guess there aren't any real villains here, huh? It's...it's not a movie. Just kinda sucks, you know?"
A thought occurred to Megan. It probably wasn't the best idea, but she'd already hugged him, so really he was halfway there anyways.
"I...I have a sort of...makeshift team, back at the Firing Range. We call ourselves Team Bitchin? It's...yeah, it's kinda stupid but...well..." She looked up at Bryant, grinning now, her tears almost entirely gone. "I'd just feel bad...leaving you here. You deserve better!"
"You deserve friends. A team! People you can trust. And...well, I'd like you to trust me."
"So...if you wanna come...I'd like that."
Bryant Carver was hugging her.
Of all the weird things that had happened to her on the Program, this probably took the cake.
She smiled, weakly, tears still flowing but her breath calming. "Yeah...I guess. My parents and my brother." She let out a small snort of laughter. "And my dog. She'd be pissed if I died. I keep her ass nice and fat."
She looked up at Bryant, genuinely smiling. She wrapped her arms around Bryant, hugging him back. "It's okay. I just...I guess there aren't any real villains here, huh? It's...it's not a movie. Just kinda sucks, you know?"
A thought occurred to Megan. It probably wasn't the best idea, but she'd already hugged him, so really he was halfway there anyways.
"I...I have a sort of...makeshift team, back at the Firing Range. We call ourselves Team Bitchin? It's...yeah, it's kinda stupid but...well..." She looked up at Bryant, grinning now, her tears almost entirely gone. "I'd just feel bad...leaving you here. You deserve better!"
"You deserve friends. A team! People you can trust. And...well, I'd like you to trust me."
"So...if you wanna come...I'd like that."
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White bitch is hugging you, and you're ok with that?
Bryant looked down to the girl in his arms, almost smiled.
Yeah. Fuck. I guess I am. One of those days.
"I don't know about there being no villains. Ask me how I know." He raised up his shirt where the Mason twin had shot him. It might've been the girl was just protecting her sister. But something had seemed off about her.
Then she was mentioning the team, and he released the girl, stood up.
"Ain't a good idea, bringing a killer home to the family. They might not freeze when they got the chance to kill me."
Bryant picked up the shotgun, put his palm down on Megan's head and ruffled her hair.
What, you got a cracker sister now? Ain't this a bitch?
"I got some people to find, anyway. Juliet Watan...Wonton...Whatever the fuck her last name is, and Karl Chalmers. You seen 'em?"
Bryant looked down to the girl in his arms, almost smiled.
Yeah. Fuck. I guess I am. One of those days.
"I don't know about there being no villains. Ask me how I know." He raised up his shirt where the Mason twin had shot him. It might've been the girl was just protecting her sister. But something had seemed off about her.
Then she was mentioning the team, and he released the girl, stood up.
"Ain't a good idea, bringing a killer home to the family. They might not freeze when they got the chance to kill me."
Bryant picked up the shotgun, put his palm down on Megan's head and ruffled her hair.
What, you got a cracker sister now? Ain't this a bitch?
"I got some people to find, anyway. Juliet Watan...Wonton...Whatever the fuck her last name is, and Karl Chalmers. You seen 'em?"
-
Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
Megan gasped slightly at Bryant's wound. "Woah. Looks like a bitch. Guess I better keep my eyes peeled for gun wielding psycho's still. And damn, to think I thought I was done making enemies in this game."
She wasn't gonna lie- it hurt a bit that Bryant didn't want to join Team Bitchin. She wasn't really expecting him too, sure, but...he would have really completed the ragtag bunch of misfits, wouldn't he have. She smiled, somewhat sadly. "It's cool. I have a feeling the meeting wouldn't go over too well. I kinda told them I had to go to the bathroom. I'd probably be the only person to go to the bathroom and bring back a killer, right?" She laughed, standing up herself.
"Sorry, no, I haven't seen either of them. If I do though I'll...I don't know...send you psychic signals or something."
Megan grabbed Helmut Von Slappenstien off the ground. "Do me a favor too, yeah? If you find Luke Mendoza or Tyler Blake tell them...tell them that Megan Jacobson is looking for them. That she needs to talk to them, okay?"
It was true, at least. She did need to talk to them. She needed to find out why they'd done what they'd done. If Bryant Carver could feel as much guilt as he did, it was entirely possible that there was more to those deaths than she knew. She wasn't ready to judge them, not yet.
"So...I guess this is it, huh?" She looked up at Bryant, grinning.
She was reminded of when she had left Dom and Jen for Wendy. What she had said was mostly just words back then- another stupid Meganism without any real meaning or weight- suddenly meant a lot more. She hoped this meeting would have a better ending.
She hoped Bryant would win this damn thing.
"See you in another life, I guess."
She wasn't gonna lie- it hurt a bit that Bryant didn't want to join Team Bitchin. She wasn't really expecting him too, sure, but...he would have really completed the ragtag bunch of misfits, wouldn't he have. She smiled, somewhat sadly. "It's cool. I have a feeling the meeting wouldn't go over too well. I kinda told them I had to go to the bathroom. I'd probably be the only person to go to the bathroom and bring back a killer, right?" She laughed, standing up herself.
"Sorry, no, I haven't seen either of them. If I do though I'll...I don't know...send you psychic signals or something."
Megan grabbed Helmut Von Slappenstien off the ground. "Do me a favor too, yeah? If you find Luke Mendoza or Tyler Blake tell them...tell them that Megan Jacobson is looking for them. That she needs to talk to them, okay?"
It was true, at least. She did need to talk to them. She needed to find out why they'd done what they'd done. If Bryant Carver could feel as much guilt as he did, it was entirely possible that there was more to those deaths than she knew. She wasn't ready to judge them, not yet.
"So...I guess this is it, huh?" She looked up at Bryant, grinning.
She was reminded of when she had left Dom and Jen for Wendy. What she had said was mostly just words back then- another stupid Meganism without any real meaning or weight- suddenly meant a lot more. She hoped this meeting would have a better ending.
She hoped Bryant would win this damn thing.
"See you in another life, I guess."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey The Undead. 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.
Bryant turned, started walking. His face was grim again, and he didn't want Megan seeing it.
"Yeah. Another life." He started walking again.
He stopped. About faced.
"One more thing before I go." He said, looking at Megan again.
"Did you headbutt me with a goddamn football helmet?"
((Bryant Carver continued in Don't Just Be an Observer. Megan Jacobson re-continued in I'm Younger Than That Now))
"Yeah. Another life." He started walking again.
He stopped. About faced.
"One more thing before I go." He said, looking at Megan again.
"Did you headbutt me with a goddamn football helmet?"
((Bryant Carver continued in Don't Just Be an Observer. Megan Jacobson re-continued in I'm Younger Than That Now))