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Just People In A Messed Up Place
Brendan actually asked him if he was okay. There were a lot of answers he could give. Physically, he was okay, a few scratches and some exhaustion maybe, but mentally, emotionally? No, he wasn't too okay. He didn't know what to tell Brendan, it looked like he hasn't seen what's been going on. Maybe he didn't know? Should he tell him? Earlier, it was so easy to just get it out of the way, just acknowledge it. Would he tell Brendan? Should he tell Brendan?

"I- I don't know... People, they..." Jonathan didn't know how to word it, he didn't know if he should tell him about Barry or Clarice, or where he woke up, or what could be happening right now that Alvaro's got Barry's gun. "People are, well they're dying. Not by suicide either..." Jonathan's eyes trailed to his feet.

He didn't know if he could really do this, but if he didn't tell Brendan, than he could be killed later on. He had to. Just like he has to get everyone he can off this island. This is the only way, this is it, people needed to know the gravity of the situation, it was the best he could do until he thought of a plan to get help.

"When I woke up, I was trapped in a cell, couldn't see, and I could barely breath..." He had to start from the beginning. "Barry a-a-and Tina, Tina Luz, they got me out of there... I- well I also saw Scarlett and Aiden, a-and they left, I don't know what happened to them, I hope they're okay." It was weird how different everything felt then, how he thought he might get through this unscathed, how Barry could've gotten through this. "W-we went to the bell tower, and Tina disappeared."

He couldn't believe how quick everything had went by, now that he was telling someone else his story, the shock of it hit him harder then replaying the scenes in his head. All of this happened in just under an hour. "At the bell tower, there were a lot of people, w-we thought we could group up with them, maybe plan an escape. Nancy, the anime fan, she cut Clarice a-and the others left." Jonathan wanted to stop there, he knew what was next. He couldn't, Brendan had to know.

"We rung the bell." Jonathan lowered his head. "Only one other person showed up. H-he..."

"Alvaro, h-he killed Barry, pushed him off the bell tower! I had use my shirt to cover his-" Jonathan burst into tears. "A-a-and I had nothing else, I-I didn't know what to do, and Alvaro stole Barry's bag a-a-a-and now he has a fucking gun!"

Jonathan leaned against the fence and covered his face.

"I-I just don't wanna die here, I don't want anyone else to die here..."

70's Horror Movies
Michael looked down at the tire he planned on mutilating, disappointed. This was well, really disappointing. Like, really fucking disappointing, like so disappointing he was disappointed that he wasn't disappointed enough. Like hey, we got your favorite present, disappointment. He looked back up at Jerry, who just went thousand yard stare mode again. Shit, he must've been disappointed too. Wouldn't blame him, Michael hyped the plan up too much without actual sustenance. Kind of made him angry that it didn't work. Not at Jerry, or well anyone. It'd have just been cool to have tire armor.

Jerry's creepy ass Ryan Gosling Drive stare ended with a question, a weird worded one, but he got the gist of it. "Ehhh, nah, not really, not in the foreseeable future anyway, unless someone's willin' to lend us a blade or somethin', right?" Michael shrugged, he wasn't really too sure himself what he was implying with his own line. Could have meant just asking, could have meant jacking it off of some poor fuck, eh, no point worrying about it right now though, they don't even know if they could get straps to even wear it. Might still be worth checking the big ass apartment looking buildings just in case.

"Ey, we might find some good shit at the housing place if you wanna check, at least it'd be worth a look." Michael tilted his head towards its direction before looking back at Jerry. He grabbed his axe and turned to walk out the door, before pausing and turning around to look at the garage. There was the raised car, and across from it was a table vice. He got bad ideas with the vice for a moment. But it was only a moment. There was self defense, then there was.... that. Nah, fuck that scene. Unless of course some motherfucker killed Jonathan, then that vice would be used, but now, nah.

As they were walking through the old car park, Michael thought about what would happen if they were attacked. Michael knew himself pretty well, but he didn't know how Jerry would do. He seemed athletic, but did he know how to fight? Knowledge and strength were two different things after all. Experience and shit. There's also the option of taking a punch. Would it be like normal for him, or was he glass jaw? Wouldn't be a way to find out until it happened though, so there wasn't a point to worrying about it. Well, actually, he could ask...

"Ey, you ever been in a fight before?"

Just People In A Messed Up Place
((Jonathan Gulley continued from Kanji my computer can't translate with a copy paste))

To anyone's eye, Jonathan looked like shit. The expression on his face, the dried tear stains on his cheeks, the matted hair, the cuts and scratches on his chest from the fact he had no shirt and had walked through thick brush to get here... And to those people's eyes, they were right, he did look like shit; he also felt like it. As he walked towards the cliffs, he had to contemplate his next move. As he was nearing the cliffs, he couldn't get what happened to Barry out of his head, nothing he thought of could block it. Home, escape, death, his friends, all of it got replaced by Barry's last words, and the moments before he approached Alvaro. Jonathan refused to think of him after those moments, but that last image of his face, haphazardly turned in an angle like that, it sickened him. Someone like that, they- they didn't deserve this.

He couldn't think of his plan to escape, or even let someone find them, he couldn't think of what happened if he were to actually make it home, and if anyone he was close to would stay close provided they even survived too... Jonathan walked towards the cliffs, the fence blocking him from the other side. It wasn't the only thing blocking him; no matter how much Jonathan wanted to give up, he knew he couldn't. Hunt down Alvaro, kill himself, find his friends and live out his last moments in some sort of civility, win; all of those thoughts passed his mind, but he knew he couldn't do any of them. Grabbing the gate, he stared out into the ocean, despite all of the hellish experiences this island gave him in just under an hour, the ocean was a surprisingly calming sight. The reasons they were calming however, disturbed even Jonathan.

No matter what happened to him or his classmates on this island, the world moved on. People wake up, go to work, go home, sleep, and then they do it all again. Maybe a group of people spoke up, maybe Kingman would mourn, but that's it. That's all they'd get. The worst would be the people giving them actual attention, the ones who'd watch it, place bets, and treat it like a simple game of football. Outside of that, school would open and close, kids were preparing for summer break, and the president might give them a single sentence about how sorry he was this happened, and that he'd try better next time. That's it, that's all they got.

Jonathan wanted to be the one to change something, he couldn't end up like this, he had to make sure nobody else did either. He had to make a change somehow. But how was the question, nobody would give him a single second to explain, not even a thought, they were all content with dying here. He didn't get it, either they thought he was a joke, or they avoided him because of the people he hung out with. They either thought he was trouble, or just stupid, and that he wasn't worth the time.

He turned around, planning to walk back into the brush, when something caught his peripheral vision. Brendan Harte was staring right at him as if Jonathan had just killed someone. He was right there, sitting by a hill, just looking at him, in broad daylight, anyone aware could have noticed. If Brendan was playing, Jonathan would've already been dead... Maybe Jonathan was as dumb as people thought.

"H-hey, Brendan..." Maybe, just maybe, Brendan could help him. Jonathan hoped this wouldn't be like the other times.

SOTF Halloween Movie Night
Down for pretty much any weekend that's not on the 8th or the 15th (HHN and Dystopia Rising respectively) at any time. The line up of films to vote for is great, and I'd be happy to see any or all of them if everyone's down with it.

"Huh?! Answer me! Why did you do it, Alvaro!" Jonathan couldn't think straight anymore. All he wanted was an answer from him. Something, anything. Alvaro could've spoken up about why he freaked out, Barry could've said that he was okay, something, anything, he was the only one talking. That infuriated him more. Alvaro, he did this, and he wasn't even going to speak, he was going to curl up and act like if he ignored it that it would be okay and that everything is fine that he is the victim and-

Alvaro started running down the stairs.

Barry was down there.

Barry had a gun.

Alvaro was running down stairs.

Oh no. Jonathan sprinted after him. If Alvaro got his hands on it, he'd- That fucking vulture! As Jonathan ran down the stairs, that pit of dread in his chest moved it's way up, into his neck, up his face, out his eyes. Alvaro got down the steps first, he grabbed Barry's bag. No, no he couldn't, that sick bastard! Jonathan lurched forward in an attempt to tackle Alvaro, to stop him.

He missed, and landed face first into the wooden floor, with Alvaro running off. He rewarded himself for his deeds whilst simultaneously running from them. And now, he was going to do worse. Maybe this wasn't even his first kill. Maybe, those bruises were from someone fighting in self defense...

Jonathan wanted to keep chasing Alvaro, he wanted to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone again; but he'd never catch up in time.

Jonathan turned, he saw Barry staring right back at him. His eyes. That stare, nothing behind it. No. He expected this outcome, but it wasn't what he deserved! He was going to help everyone get off! Jonathan knew he was saved by him, and out of everyone he's met, he's the only one who stood by him. And now here he was, laying on his back with his head tilted like-

Jonathan walked towards Barry's corpse. He would kill Alvaro. He would find him, and he would kill him. If nobody wanted to escape, that was fine by him, he could play by their rules- he could! He-

Jonathan closed Barry's eyes. He couldn't leave him like this, he deserved some respect. Jonathan had closed Barry's legs, and placed his hands on his chest. That's the way it's been done at funerals. That's what they did with Lisa... The one thing he couldn't fix was Barry's neck, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it to rest at a natural angle. He would kill Alvaro. He would kill him.

Jonathan looked at Barry's corpse. Only a few minutes ago, he was alive. He had been talking to him, he was alive. Now he's not. He didn't have to play, just kill Alvaro, make sure he wouldn't go home. He looked at Barry. Jonathan pulled out his tape recorder, and replayed his message to the world.

"He's right, you know."

After everything that had happened, Barry looked calm. At peace. Even if he died with his eyes open, there wasn't any trace of fear or sadness or anything. Like he was okay with what had happened and his neck was bent and-

"He's right, you know." Jonathan played the recording again and again. He would kill Alvaro.

"He's right, you know." He would. He would, he- he can't. After everything that has happened, he couldn't. Not because he couldn't kill, if it were anyone else who'd have fallen, he would have done it. He'd have thrown everything away, and he'd have hunted Alvaro, until him or Jonathan fell.

But he wasn't going to. Barry wouldn't have wanted it. And because of that, Jonathan wasn't going to do it. He would get as many people off of this island as he could, regardless what happens to him. He wanted nothing more to give up and join the animals, but he wasn't going to. Barry died, and if he did that, he would have died for nothing.

Jonathan couldn't leave him like this though. He placed his bag to the side and took his shirt off, resting it over Barry's face. He had nothing else to use. This hurt, everything about this hurt.

Jonathan turned and left the bell tower. He played the tape recorder over and over on the way out. No matter what, he wasn't going to give in. Barry wasn't going to die for nothing. Even if Jonathan couldn't save anyone and had just gotten himself killed, he'd have at least tried. But he would not fall down like the others; he wouldn't become one of them.

"He's right, you know."

((Jonathan Gulley continued in Just Three People In A Messed Up Place.))

A noise from behind them interrupted Jonathan and Barry's words to the world. Jonathan turned around, another smaller noise, much like a squeak emitted from the new stranger. Barry called out to him, it was Alvaro.

Alvaro was okay. Jonathan rarely talked to him, except maybe early on in his freshman year. He was okay for the most part, but Alvaro started avoiding him once he started talking to Michael. It was a lie to say he wasn't sure why, Michael had a habit of intimidating him, as well as mispronouncing his name, something that more than likely got on his nerves to no end. Being called 'Albania', 'Albano', 'Aloe vera'... Would get on anyone's nerves. Jonathan was never around when he did those jokes, but for whatever reason, Alvaro decided to avoid him. Guilty by association maybe?

Alvaro was always kind of twitchy, but this was different. In terms of friends and popularity, Barry was well perfect. Played sports, had a lot of friends, always happy, nothing bad could really be said about him. Alvaro was twitchy, but not this twitchy. Maybe it was the island, but it was obvious Barry meant no harm. Hell, Alvaro didn't even know if he had a gun or not, there was no reason to be scared of him. But then Alvaro kept backing away...

That pit of dread? It came back. Something was wrong, real wrong. Alvaro backed up, backed into the light. There were two features that disturbed him. His face, his face was real messed up. Was he jumped? Jon's eyes trailed up, they met Alvaro's eyes. That was the second feature, and that was when it hit him. That look in his eyes; it was unlike anything he'd ever seen, a cacophony of emotions, all negative. Fear, anger, something else that he couldn't quite place. That is what hit him. That wasn't the look of a victim, that was...

Jonathan ran forward, he had to help Barry. There was no way this was happening, he couldn't, he had to warn him he had to- "Barry! He's playi-" Barry reeled back, hit the railing, kept going back, he didn't stop. He dissapeared. Jonathan kept running forward before a thud... and something else hit his ears. Jonathan froze in place, the world deathly quiet. He thought he heard something in the distance. It sounded like a quiet breath, or maybe that was just the wind.



"B-Barry?" Jonathan choked again. W-what did Alvaro do?! Why?! All we wanted to do was help! All Barry wanted to do was help!


Jonathan looked up at him. Barry was supposed to make it off this island. He saved him, he deserved better.

"What the f-fuck is wrong with you?!" Jonathan pointed at Alvaro, he wanted to know. Why? Why did he- "Why?! W-why would you do this?!"

Jonathan could feel tears welling in his eyes as he screamed at that damn murderer.

70's Horror Movies
"Thank you," Michael nodded to Jerry as he took the knife. "Now we gonna see how good this fucker is, and how tough these tires are." Michael brought the knife down on the tire. Hard.


"What the fuck?!" He didn't leave a dent in the tire, not a cut. "Mishap, I uhhh, aimed it wrong, yeah. Never, aaahh, never used a knife before to be honest." He brought it down again.


"Wha- why the-" Okay, this waas kind of ridiculous. There was no way Michael was this weak, he could totally cut this bitch. Just had to put a bit more effort. Maybe if he pressed the taser button while stabbing down.



... No, really, what the fuck? Wait, this knife. Michael pointed the knife towards his thumb. No way they'd pull this, no way he wouldn't have found out already. He casually pressed his thumb against the blade. Nothing happened as he slid it down. Not even a scratch or a drop of blood.

Michael did it again, holding his thumb against the taser button. One falsetto scream worthy of the Smooth Criminal himself later, and Michael had jumped back, looking at the knife. That's a way to wake yourself up, screw licking batteries...

Michael shook his head side to side, vocalizing with added adrenaline into his system. "Wububu, damn! That felt great..." He lied. That hurt like hell. Michael tossed the fake blade back to Jerry.

"Well, good news is, that shock is strong as fuck, but the bad news well..." He desperately tried playing off his stupidity, but it wasn't working as he had hoped. "The uhh, the knife part's a bit of false advertisin', shit."

Michael looked back to the tires, with no way to cut them, he wouldn't be able to make bitching armor. Welp, there goes his day.

"Guess I ain't gonna be Toecutter for the day, huh?"

Well, here we go, attempt number two. Please let this work. No, this was going to work. Barry pulled the lever, the bell ringed, the world heard their voices once more. Once more will people flock to the bell tower, once more will their chances at escaping open. Once more...

Once more everything could go wrong. Barry was optimistic, and while Jonathan wished he could be, he had this growing feeling of doubt. In these few short hours, a lot had went wrong, and Jonathan was pretty sure it could get worse. But there was hope in that too, if they didn't do anything, it was definitely going to get worse. So a chance versus a positive of everything going down, well, they had to go with the chance. If they didn't do it, then it was positive they were going to die here, whilst by ringing the bell, it is now only a chance. A high chance, but still a chance none the less.

Jonathan's optimism returned in short waves, there was still that core of dread, but it didn't overlap the excitement of it all. The chance to be a hero, the chance to show them they could beat this. Jonathan needed some fresh air. He looked up at the second set of stairs above him, the ones leading to the bell and balcony up top. He wanted to see something.

"Barry, I think we got this, but could you give me a moment?" Jonathan pointed up the opening at the top of the bell tower. "I've never actually been to the top of one of these before..." It was rather dorky to say, and it caused Jonathan to blush, but it was true. He's never seen the top of a bell tower, but there was another reason he wanted up there.

He reached the top and looked down, it wasn't quite what he expected. It wasn't a ring with the rope dangling down the middle like the lower level, rather there was one balcony, a set of stairs, and a railed off opening to look out of. It faced away from the island, so the asylum was behind him, but it didn't matter, he saw what he was looking for. The ocean, freedom. Somewhere down there was home, and he'd see it again. Things would go wrong, there would be setbacks, but he would see home again.

He pulled out his tape recorder. He needed to document this.

"My name is Jonathan Gulley..." He didn't know what else to say, this was, well it was kind of hokey. "My.. no, errr.." Think of something, if Michael were here, he'd already have gotten a full monologue in with 'fuck' spoken in every other language except Portuguese. "I.. We." Jonathan knew what he would say. "I am Jonathan Gulley, and my classmates were thrown into the SOTF program. I will make it out..."

"No, we will make it out, all of us. We won't lose like the others."



Jonathan had blacked out.

Those last 30 seconds his mind was elsewhere. He stood there, staring where Clarice used to be. Suddenly, it was empty again. Just him and Barry. Again they were alone, it was as if fate had planned for this. Jonathan walked over to the railing of the bell tower and looked down. He felt like he was watching his plans fall down the pit. Like that, in one moment everything went to shit. Jonathan wanted to reach out, he wanted to grab it. He wanted to fall with it.

No. Not yet. They could deal with this, they can work around this. Not everyone is going crazy yet, right? There had to be something they could do, something they could try. Maybe if they ringed the bell again, someone else would come? He had to think.

"I... Well, I don't know. There's, well I just don't know."

What about the bell though? Would people come? Were people coming now? Did just nobody care, and they were already planning on getting themselves off the island the only way they know how?

Jonathan had to do something, maybe he should ring the bell again, maybe it might work. But he had to see what Barry had to say first.

"I don't suppose we could try to ring this again?"

70's Horror Movies

"Well shit, now you made me feel bad, thanks..." He would've started dwelling on the fact that he sucked at sarcasm, but Jerry reminded him of his own fatal flaw in a plan thought to be flawless. Main difference was, when Jerry was joking, Michael was serious...

"Oh, yeah... Belts." Jerry was right, they were going to need straps and belts to hold all of this shit to their clothes. He knew that. Totally. He just hadn't quite thought about how he was going to get to it. "Yo, follow me for a moment." Michael walked to the tires, grabbing the one on the top of the pile, he rolled it to the side.

"Now this shit is probably gonna take the whole day, which is why it'd be best to get it done now, rather than later. I doubt people are gonna start going batshit this early, maybe one or two, but we all won't devolve into psychopathic inmates overnight; which means now is the perfect time for preparing plans." Michael mimed cutting areas of the tire, showing Jerry his plans on making armor. "So, this is too large to make a single shoulder pad, so once we cut out a piece for it, we split it down the middle right, now we got two pieces, and they'll fit like a charm." He made two lines across the areas he planned to show as shoulder pads. "After that, we cut slits in between the lines here, and here, slide a belt through it, kind of like how a shoelace and the little hole thingy in the shoe works, right?"

Michael stood up, miming putting on the pad. "Then we wrap the belt around our shoulder, just under our arm. Boom! Instant Mad Max; after that, it's just wrist and shin guards, maybe a codpiece if you wanna keep your Jimmy intact." Michael groped his own groin on delivery of the 'Jimmy" line.

He pointed out towards the direction they came from, towards the bar. "There's a living quarters just down the road, probably got some belts and shit we could use to make straps."

There was one question before they embarked on the quest to look cool however. "By the way, can I see your knife? I kinda wanna see how strong this tire is, just so we don't make a bad choice or some shit and find out way too late."

If this tire plan works, well shit, it'd be fucking awesome as a motherfucker. The Bad Motherfucker 4000, badder than your ass. If it didn't work... Well, c'est la vie or whatever the Greeks said.

Jonathan followed Barry towards the stairs. This was turning out great! A large group of people, it was safe, they were safe! They could plan things out, they could escape. They could-

There was a scream. Oh no... No no no... What the hell happened! Nancy bolted down the stairs. She screamed, but she wasn't the scream. Oh no. What did she do, oh shit, not now, not this early.

Jonathan was practically tackled as Nancy ran out of the bell tower. What did she do? Jonathan looked up at her as she ran off. She was gone. But the scream, who's scream was that? Jonathan forced himself to his feet. He got up and ran up the stairs.

Everything before this was going well. Too well. Everyone coming and going, Jon waking up trapped in a cell, Jon waking up in Survival of The Fittest... This was a hell of a day already, and now? Now it was going to get a lot worse before it gets better, or IF it gets better.

He reached the top of the stairs and saw Clarice. She was the scream. She...

"Oh my God! A-a-are you okay?!"

70's Horror Movies

Start up a car and drive away. Hold up. HOLD UP! How did Michael not think of this?! Take one of these cars and drive off. Get one of these rust buckets, and drive all of five miles before landing into the ocean! Of course! These things were from the 70's. The Jetsons were from the 70's! They could drive underwater like a submarine. And that's with the implication that they could slap all the rust off to make the machinery work. And that's with the implication there were keys, or one of them knew how to hotwire the-

"Jerry, that's a good idea. A great idea, but there is a few things you got wrong with that plan."

Michael put his hand on Jerry's shoulder, and took off his shades.

"That thing you got wrong, was, well, it was mostly fucking everything. These fuckers are more rust than car, and even if they worked, where'd we drive?! The goddamn motherfuckin' piss ocean?!" Michael raised voice, but he caught himself before he went into a full tirade. Jerry was probably still in shock over their circumstance, couldn't get angry at him, not yet. He raised his finger, his angered grumbling turning to a quiet chuckle.

Michael pinched his brow, shaking his head, he laughed again before putting his sunglasses back on. "If that was a joke, I apologize, sometimes I don't catch sarcasm too well." This place was just as barren as the bar, nothing of use, except well, there was that pile of tires over there, along with the ones on the jeeps. "We won't find much use out of these cars, but there is something they got that do got use!"

Michael wrapped his arm around Jerry's shoulder, pointing his axe at the pile of tires. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Jerry might not have been on the same page Michael was, but that was alright, he'd bring him up to speed. All that thinking about post apocalyptic works, had Michael thinking about outfits. Football pads, pauldrons, tires. Motherfuckers wore tire armor! Him and Jerry would look badass as fuck!

"You know what tires are good at right? We shred some of these fuckers up, attach it to our clothes, and we're gonna be a hell of a lot better off than the kids in t-shirts and jeans, right. Only people dumb enough to be comin' at us in that type of gear would be bumblefucks!"

Michael omitted the part where they'd be practically useless to large blades or more importantly gunfire; But hey, at least getting bludgeoned to death was less of a risk!

Jon followed Barry inside the lighthouse, and already Barry had found someone he knew. Not only that, they seemed like close friends. This was great, their group could stay together, and they could trust each other.

Not only that, there were more inside, Jonathan wasn't sure how much more, but they were there. So if Barry found someone he knew, Maybe Jonathan might? He had to ask, maybe Michael or Darius was here.

"Hey uhh..."

Jonathan waved to Conrad. "You know anyone here? I was wondering if some of my friends are up there..." Jonathan realized that Conrad probably had no idea who he was talking about. "You seen Michael here? He's kind of taller than me, black jacket, bad haircut." Jonathan waited for a reply. There had to be someone here he really knew. Then again, even if there wasn't they could still make a group, Jonathan was certain Barry had a lot of friends.

"What about Darius? Around my height, green hair, a little chubby, really annoying, kind of a weeb..."

Probably not the most flattering descriptions, but they were the most common and arguably truthful, so he had to use what he got.

70's Horror Movies
"Alrighty, maybe we'll find someone in here, if not, we could just loot the place, or set it up as a base of operations or some crazy shit." Michael walked between the various rusted vehicles, giving them a good look.

He stopped at one, his leaned his head towards the window. He wiped away the dust with his elbow and stared at his reflection. Putting his axe underneath his arm again, he moved his hands through his hair. For waking up on a death island, he didn't look too bad. Needed to comb a bit, but not bad. Michael lowered his sunglasses towards his reflection, clicking his lips in his trademark Hollywood style. "Shoulda' been an actor Michael, that face, and that hair... Was gonna get you paid and laid baby!"

Michael leaned back up, chuckling. His hand brushed the bangs of his hair to the side. He noticed Jerry was staring at him like he'd done something stupid. Did he not look at himself in the mirror enough or something?


Michael shrugged and continued his trek towards the garages. Technically he was still famous right now. Hell, this was probably the easiest way to become famous. He certainly wouldn't be if this hadn't happened to him. It was... kinda shitty, but hey, people knew his name now. They'd REALLY know his name when he splits Danya down the middle, groin to gullet, in that order.

To be honest though, this island had a nice aesthetic to it. You could do some kickass I am Legend movie here. It wasn't a desert, so you couldn't do Mad Max, but shit, something like The Road or The Stand wouldn't be too out of place. Maybe Escape from Shitfuck SOTF Terrorist Island or something like that, give Mike an eyepatch, he'll fit right in.

Michael walked inside the garage, and announced his big entrance.

"Eeeeey! Where dah' welcomin' pahty at!"

Michael stood still, arms outstretched for a good ten seconds. When he realized he wouldn't find Jonathan, or well anyone here, he muttered under his breath.


70's Horror Movies
((Michael Crowe, Continued from We Pissin' our pants yet?))

This was new. An alien feeling on what should be a familiar place. Just a casual stroll along the road with what felt like an old friend. He wasn't sure which part made it feel alien, this 'old friend' being a complete stranger outside of his name, or the metal time bomb on his neck. Speaking of the collar....

Michael slid his axe underneath his arm as he reached his hands up to upper chest and neck area. He unfastened the button on his blue aloha shirt, and popped his collar. Covered the explosive leash from all sides but the front. There was no point to it but to make him feel less like the terrorists' cheap whore. Probably the same reasoning as covering lingerie up with a cheap jacket. He lowered his arms, catching his axe on the way down.

Then there was Jerry next to him. For not waking up nearby anyone he really knew, he was an alright teammate. He wasn't some pussy-bitch, and he wasn't sketch as fuck either. That was a good thing, a real good thing. He was trustworthy enough to get shit done, and not stab you in the back later on. He was a pretty good guy, no complaints for him here. But, Michael noticed Jerry staring at something, so he turned his head in that direction.

Holy shit.


Well, shitty ass jeeps, but still, vehicles! Michael knew they wouldn't work, but it wouldn't hurt to look around a bit, maybe they'd find someone, or something to help them out. Jerry asked where to go. Good question, wandering everywhere wasn't gonna get them shit.

"Well, shit, we're at a car park right now, right?"

Michael looked at the rust buckets in front of him. They'd look like shit straight out of Mad Max. Speaking of Mad Max, didn't Fury Road rele-.


Michael just realized he probably wouldn't have been able to take Jon out to that movie date like he promised. Michael sighed, "You uhhh, you ever think about what we'd be doing if we weren'- Ah fuck it! You probably don't wanna hear more depressin' shit right now." Michael looked down at the ground, then back to Jerry. He forced his grin back.

"Thinkin' we should check out this place though, maybe find some good shit, or some good people." His forced smile turned slightly more genuine at the prospect of finding some more familiar faces.

Jonathan continued his trek behind Barry. This was a longer trip than he expected. At the very least, he saw the bell tower in the distance, so they weren't too far now. All they had to do was go inside and check it out, what's the worse that could happen? They weren't going to be outgunned or out manned, there were three of them. They'd be able to- wait. Wait a minute. Jonathan looked behind him. Tina wasn't there. Did she leave?


Jonathan should be more worried, but with how many people that have been coming and going, it was starting to feel more like a running gag than anything else. He couldn't blame them, they all had their reasons. Maybe they had a better idea for them? Jonathan hoped their plans would help them, but he needed his plans to help his group.

They were by the bell tower now, and Jonathan's heart was pumping in his chest. Jonathan looked up. How many people would be in there? Five, six? Maybe one or two? Maybe they already left? Barry went in first, giving him a thumbs up. Jonathan nodded back. He waited for the sign to go in. Barry called in asking if anyone was there. Jon thought it was only fair to announce his presence as well.

"Y-yeah! We're friendly if you are!"