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Viewing Single Post From: Jenny From the Block
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maybe if you're lucky the random avatar will sync up to the character you're reading right now
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“So hey, uh… terrorist dudes?”

((Jeremy Frasier, continued from Idiot Launch))

He’d been walking slower than he normally did. He wasn’t really sure why that was the case. It wasn’t because of the situation, no. He had already had that change a couple days ago, after he had talked to Scout in the Church. It wasn’t because of his injuries, either. Those were bad, yeah (ugggghhhhh he hoped these were like, easily healable bruises or something, he really didn’t like the thought of spending the rest of his days having to feel these), but the bruises were on his chest and face. They wouldn’t have affected the way he walked. It wasn’t due to like, the place or the people, either. He was alone right now, and the island was slowly losing its “new place!” luster with every sight of it he resaw.

So he wasn’t really sure why he was going slower. All he really knew was that it was a bad thing. It left him to his thoughts. It made him have to think about what had happened previously.

And that wasn’t good.

So, the only thing he could do was distract himself. Do something, so that he didn’t have to think about anything else.

In theory, anyway.

“So, um, I think I heard at some point on the announcements that you guys don’t make deals with us, so I don’t think I’m going to get anything accomplished from this other than getting some false hope come tomorrow, but I’m sorta alone now and don’t really have a lot to do so fuck it, may as well try.”

He had stopped walking to say this. He could see the radio tower in the distance. He supposed that maybe if he kept walking for a bit he could get there in like, five minutes or so. That was probably what he should be doing right now.

But eh, he needed a break. A breather. Whatever it was called, this was it.

“So, uh, like…”

Fuck, how did he actually say this? ‘Dear terrorists overlords, please fulfill my extremely stupid request that I’m stating right here.’

“There’s this, uh… show. On TV. That I like watching. Survivor. Blame Serena for getting me into it, wherever she is or whatever she’s doing. Anyway, like, it’s… a show. That I like. Haven’t missed an episode since I’ve- uh, I started watching it.”

The camera was up above him, on top of a tree. He had looked at it, for a bit, before disengaging eye contact. He imagined that wherever they were airing it they weren’t going to switch to another camera. He couldn’t see many good angles around him.

“Although, like, then this sorta happened. Made me miss the last episode. So, like-”

He stopped. Paused.


“I dunno. I thought before I opened my mouth here I’d sound cooler or funnier or more convincing or less fucking pathetic or something but apparently that’s not the case. If you actually, like, tell me what happened or told me who got voted off that’d be great but honestly I don’t even have anything to give you guys. Just, like, feel free to bury me all you like. Tell everyone else here that I’m the literal embodiment of first world problems. You don’t even have to like, do anything in exchange for that. Just burn my image of goodwill in front of everyone, I guess.”

He turned away from the camera.

“They probably already think I’m a monster for what I did.”

Look at that idiot over there, just trying to distract himself from realising what he was the one who’d killed Junko and that trying to claim otherwise was just delaying the inevitable.

Look at that fucking asshole over there, thinking he was so grand and so almighty that he could get the rulers of this place to bow down to his will.

Look at that kid over there, depressed and scared out of his mind.

He just hoped that whoever was watching this was getting their kicks. Their laughs.

He supposed he deserved it, in a way.

He walked away, the view of the camera switching as he went out of sight.

The door opened. The person behind the two took their steps to the centre of the room.

The chisel and the CD player went down onto the table.

“Early bird gets first pick. I’m taking the baseball bat.”
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Jenny From the Block · The Radio Tower