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Viewing Single Post From: Dear God
Privyet
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Survivor
[ *  * ]
Matt couldn't help but feel as though he'd gotten gypped - a selfie stick, really? Someone must've thought they were real funny, huh? He'd have liked a gun, or a sword, or something, but a selfie stick? Hell, he didn't even know if the terrorists had let him keep his phone. He sighed, expecting to find nothing immediately useful in his Danya brand bag. First-aid kit. Food. Water. Map. Remarkably generous for a bunch of pricks, but unsurprisingly lacking his phone.

He doubted he could even get a signal out here, anyways. Feeling just the slightest bit stupid for getting his hopes up (assholes or not, the terrorists knew what they were doing), Matt took out his map and looked over it. Seemed like they were on the eastern part of whatever rock they'd been dumped onto, located off the coast of scenic who the fuck knows where. Folding it up and putting it away, Matt started to stand up.

The look on his face was still fearful - he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Not the slightest bit athletic and lacking in any kind of weapons training, he noted that his odds of winning any fights with his selfie stick were poor. Naturally, avoiding that kind of thing was going to be one of his top goals. Maybe the first few days were the worst, he thought. Just have to get past this and figure out the rest later.

He was at a complete loss as to what he was supposed to do to actually survive, of course. Hiding could work - find some place to ride out the first couple of days. Maybe by then, rescue would come. Rescue would have to come, he thought. You can't just kidnap this many people and have wherever you dropped them off remain a complete mystery, can you?

Then, it happened. A pun. Matt hated puns for one singular reason: they just weren't funny. His reaction to this crime against humanity disguised as humor was immediate.

"Oh, come on.." Matt said, his contempt for Nate's joke clear. He could do better. "Let's just try and stick together, alright?"

He cleared his throat, trying to forget his equally awful pun. Figuring that sharing the easily accessible info he had was a good idea, Matt started to talk again. "We're on the east side of the island.. right outside an asylum, too. If you have any ideas, then.. uh, just say 'em, I guess."
Edited by Privyet, Aug 15 2017, 02:10 AM.
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Dear God · Crematorium Chapel