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The Only Way Is Up; TOPIC CLOSED
Topic Started: Aug 21 2010, 11:56 AM (9,797 Views)
Hallucinojelly
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God was telling you "not yet".
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Leila Langford continued from Break Up And Break Down))

It had been hours since she'd left the fun fair behind; one look at her feet could tell anybody that. Without shoes of any sort, the girl had been forced to travel barefoot across the island, causing her more than a little distress as she had to keep stopping to pull various splinters and grit from out of her skin. She'd tried putting her stilettos back on to make the walk easier, but that made things even worse. The amounts of times she'd tripped on the root of a tree or a stray rock was countless, so she'd given up on the idea completely, abandoning her shoes somewhere far behind her. But navigation was not her forte, and soon she found herself stumbling around the base of the giant mountain in the center of the island without a clue to how she got there. It was fortunate really, seeing as it was the biggest landmark she could've possibly found, but with that fortune came some unseen consequences.

Essentially, absolutely anyone could come by and find her out here all on her own, and that was a major problem. She had no shoes, causing her to wince every time she took a single step, and she still couldn't bring herself to look inside her daypack, even though she knew that she'd have to eventually if she wanted to take a look at the map hiding within. Staring up at the rock face in front of her, she wondered how on earth she was ever going to get up there without a decent pair of climbing boots. Her eyes turned to the left, then to the right, scoping out the very size of the mountain itself before admitting defeat and pulling her bag off her shoulders.

Alright, fine, it's time I took a damn look.

Bangles clanging together as her hand trembled towards the bag, she began to breathe heavily, unwilling to open it too quickly in fear that her worst fear lay in wait. What would she do if she found a gun inside? Would she ever bring herself to use it, like Gracie? She liked to think that she wouldn't lower herself to that loser's level, but if the opportunity came to take someone hostage, to make sure she wasn't the one with a bullet in her chest... Closing her eyes, she felt her fingers wrap themselves around the zipper and her brain began to shout. What if it was a trap?! What if it exploded the minute she opened it?! What if this was how the game was meant to be played, by blowing up anyone stupid enough to believe that god-awful video?! What if-

FUCK IT.

The wind blew in harshly from the forest behind her, causing her hair to whip her face wildly as he ripped open the bag with a cry and then...

Nothing happened.

At all.

There was no bang or boom, no scream or shout, just an empty silence as the gale hushed itself around her.

Letting out a delirious laugh, she teared up at what she found inside. A rope. A fucking rope. That's what they'd given her, a rope - oh wait, not just a rope - a rope with weights on it. Well, wasn't that fucking brilliant. After all that anticipation, all that worry, all that stress, this is what she found. She almost felt like dying, her heart racing ahead of the rest of her body only to win a fucking rope.

Grabbing it with both hands, she ran the length of it between her palms before looking up at the mountain again. It didn't look like it was long enough to use as a climbing rope, and the weights were spherical, rendering them useless as grappling tools. Her brow furrowing at the thought of her weapon being more useless than she previously thought, she grunted in annoyance and shoved it back into her back. Oh! The map! Flinging the bolos back out again, she dove straight into the daypack; bread and bottles flying out into the dirt as the girl ravaged her equipment. A-ha! There it was! Shoved down to the bottom of the bag, she quickly tore it out and began unfolding it on the ground in front of her.

"Mountain... mountain... right, here we go." Muttering under breath, she scanned the map with fevered eyes. "If I go around... yeah... then east... huh."
Hello again.
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Jonny
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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
((B105 Start))

It had started as a relatively sleepy afternoon. Jeremy Franco had woken up. He had shuffled around a little and unzipped his duffel bag. He had blinked. He had rummaged through the thing lazily, poking around for the familiar shapes and textures of food. He had yawned. He had started to think, in a cursory manner, about the gravity of the situation. He had felt something long and wooden in his bag, like a pole. He had started to take the thing out to see what it was. He had had a few more idle thoughts on his likely-impending death, and whether he'd be willing to take a life to defend his own. He had thrown those thoughts as far to the side of his mind as he could manage, because holy shit sword-cane.

Swooooooooooooooord-caaaaaaaaaaaaane!

What followed was around seven minutes of swordfighting with imaginary opponents with his trusty fucking sword-cane, holy shit. This was actually preceded by around thirty seconds of confused attempts to operate the twist on the thing and get the sword fully out of its unassuming cane exterior, but Jeremy chose to expunge that part from his mental retelling of the situation. He slashed, he stabbed, he whirled around. He blocked attacks from imaginary opponents (probably fucking ninjas or some shit like that). He held the cane part in his left hand and used it to sweep the ninjas' legs out from under them. He drew the sword over and over again, with increasing ease and style (holy shit, he was getting good at this already).

He glanced around furtively and saw nobody, not quite putting two and two together about what these tall, camera-like structures were. He put on a little grin, confident that no one had seen his display. Though it would have been awesome if they had. He should fucking charge people for it.

As good as his lot in life was, however, Jeremy did feel a single regret stinging at him. He was wearing a snazzy suit, he had a sword-cane (holy shit!), and he even had his totally sick shades. But he'd forgotten to pack a fedora. It was probably the biggest mistake of his life to date, and he wasn't about to let himself off easy for it. He started to make a mental list of priorities.

1) Obtain a fedora

That was it, for now.

Jeremy started to hike in a random direction- presumably in search of a fedora- and soon enough came upon a fellow student. Long hair, nice ass, pink skirt. A hot chick! Yessssssss. My first ally is going to be a hot chick! Jeremy did his best to strike a gentlemanly pose. Standing up straight, one hand resting on the cane he was gently leaning on, one hand held up by his face so he could tip his imaginary fedora to Hot Chick.

1) Obtain a fedora
2) Ally with hot chicks


Jeremy greeted his new ally as a proper gentleman would. "Heeeeeeeeey!"
Edited by Jonny, Aug 21 2010, 06:35 PM.
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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Rattlesnake
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Now you may be wondering, who was wearing the bolo tie? Me or the shark? Answer: YES!
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Son of a monkey's left nipple."

B088: Start

Cody Jenkins tried holding his map upside-down. It didn't help. He hadn't expected it to, of course, but it was just one of those things people did, like touching wet paint or pushing harder on the buttons of a dead remote control when it's perfectly clear that neither will do any good. He knew that these urges were completely asinine, but also that holding out would simply increase the burning desire to be stupid, so he simply gave in to these impulses as a matter of course.

The problem with the map was that it simply didn't show what he needed to know. It was all fine and dandy if you wanted to move from one corner of the island to another without swimming, or if someone who had lost their map and who desperately needed to avoid getting wet was interrogating you about its contents at gunpoint, but seeing as roving about the island like a man looking for his car keys was stupid, and that there seemed to be a shortage of directionally-challenged wicked witches on the island, it was perfectly useless to him except to hold at funny angles waiting for the unintelligible mess to resolve suddenly into "SOUTH, YOU RETARD!"

In short, he was lost.

Under normal circumstances, "lost" didn't worry Cody much, because normal circumstances "lost" involved either paved roads or smoke monsters. In the woods, however, "lost" had a very nasty ring to it, and that went double when better than 250 other beweaponed seniors were lost, and the authorities weren't going to do anything about it, because the authorities were precisely the ones who had put them there in the first place as part of a heavily-publicized recurring terrorist attack. And, he thought, it went quadruple when the terrain was all hilly and tree-y and one was carrying a pack on one shoulder and an axe on the other, although there were plenty of cameras around that he could vent his rage at. Everyone did it, of course, and it really just boosted the ratings, but if that was what it took to get the word out to everyone, he could deal with it, and maybe even tell people he was doing it ironically, because doing lame stuff ironically was apparently awesome.

He could hear people up ahead, specifically someone trying to put the moves on the ladies. He hurried forward, because one of them might know what in the world they were doing, and also there was probably at least a guy and a girl, who could easily be friendly and hot, respectively. Stepping brashly out of the trees, he leaned on his axe, looked at them, looked at his map, turned it sideways, looked at them again, and then said, in earnest curiosity, "Hey guys. You know where we are? 'Cause I can't make heads or tails of this thing."
VeeFive


V4


NO. THERE IS NO MORE TIME, EVEN FOR CAKE. FOR YOU, THE CAKE IS OVER. YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF CAKE.

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Hallucinojelly
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God was telling you "not yet".
[ *  *  *  * ]
"Heeeeeeeeey!"

That was the first indication Leila got that she wasn't alone out here. The boy's shoes crunched on the dirt beneath his feet, but she'd been so preoccupied with the map her ears hadn't picked up the sounds, leaving her unprepared for whatever tricks he might have up his sleeve. Sharply spinning and standing on the spot, she looked over the intruder, cursing at the familiarity of his face.

"Jeremy fucking Franco. Of all the luck. I don't need any more of your "discount" moisturiser thanks, so buh-bye then."

Yeah, she wasn't a fan.

After speaking so flatly, she turned back to her - where'd the map go. No, really, where was it? She'd only looked away for a second, and suddenly it was gone. Frustration overwhelming her, she began to pace frantically around the trees, searching for any sign of where it could've gone, when finally she saw it. Floating away on the wind.

"FFFF-"

Her eyes darted back to the rat-faced boy. "You!" She shrieked, stomping right towards him. "You fucking IDIOT. You lost my map, you little shit! UGH! I can't believe this!" A little too theatrical, maybe, but her performance was understandable, given the circumstances. Dirty, stinging soles lined the bottoms of her feet, her clothes were all the wrong sizes and materials for this kind of weather, she had a rope for a weapon, and now she'd lost her map. Well, if that wasn't the cherry on top of her shitty cake of a day.

Half of her wanted to rip the boy in half, while the other wanted to-

Strangle him.

The daypack sat innocently behind her; the bolos lying tangled a tiny distance away. They were all given the same equipment, right? That's what the guy on the video has said. Which meant lying snugly inside Jeremy's bag would be his own map, identical to the one she'd just lost. Her tongue whipped away the dryness on her lips while her fingers twitched down by her sides. She was bigger than him, she could take him easily. He was just a skinny little rat-boy, after all. But then her mind cast back to the video once again, and she reminded herself that he too could have a weapon; a much better one than hers.

Before she made her decision, another boy entered the clearing, holding - what luck! - another map. Apparently he couldn't read it either, but that was fine. As long as he needed someone else to carry it for him, she'd be more than happy to oblige. As for rat-boy though - she kept a lock on him from out of the corner of her eye - he'd have to go. She couldn't have him sniffing around for spare cheese while she kept tabs on this guy's stuff. If only there was some way of getting rid of him... and maybe stealing his shoes at the same time.
Hello again.
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Jonny
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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
"You! You fucking IDIOT. You lost my map, you little shit! UGH! I can't believe this!"

The chick, whose name Jeremy now remembered was Leila, seemed to have some unkind words for him. In another set of circumstances, perhaps Jeremy would have gotten angry. He would have perhaps lost his calm, businesslike cool. He would have let the hurtful words get to him, and spoken in a way that would have only exacerbated the situation. His head would have filled up with prideful and vindictive thoughts. But right now, there was only really one thought worth thinking:

Holy shit, she's hooooooot when she's pissed off.

Jeremy took stock of the situation. She had a nice face and a bangin' body. She had a temper and was thus potentially good (and hoooooot) in a fight. And what's more, he had something she needed. A map! Such a simple bargaining tool, and all he had to do to secure her alliance was offer it. This was perfect. Jeremy held all the cards. He pulled all the strings. All the pieces on the chessboard were his pieces. All that was left was to pull her into his spiderweb.

There was also the matter of the other guy who'd just moseyed up and asking for directions. Fuck off, other guy, I'm in the middle of a sales pitch right now. If the guy was really desperate, Jeremy could help him out after he'd secured an alliance with Leila. But for now, he was a distraction from the task at hand, and best ignored.

Jeremy held his hands out non-threateningly. "Leila!" It took every inch of his willpower not to break into a hilarious rendition of a particular Eric Clapton song, or to fall to his knees and hope she got the reference. "Look, hey, hey, I'm sorry! Okay? That was my bad, look, lemme make it up to you. Alright? Look, here, how's this, you're a loyal customer of J. Franco and Associates, so how about- check this out- I hook you up with a map. I got one too, so don't sweat it, you're good." Jeremy did his best to keep his gaze focused on her eyes and not her tits (nice tits, Leila!), since that was pretty much the first thing you learned about making a sales pitch. "Plus, I'll throw in an offer of protection, yeah? We go around together, kicking ass, following my map, I make sure all the pervs stay away from you? Sound good? Yeah?"

Right into his goddamn spiderweb. With any luck, they'd become the island's most feared couple within a day or two, taking breaks from their reign of terror only so they could make out. And then Jeremy would turn to one of the cameras, grin, and wink. And tip his fedora.
Edited by Jonny, Aug 22 2010, 07:19 PM.
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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Rattlesnake
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Now you may be wondering, who was wearing the bolo tie? Me or the shark? Answer: YES!
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Cody cocked his head and looked on with mild consternation. He hoped he wasn't walking in on anything, but then realized that it didn't really matter if he had, seeing as he had a fire axe and that judging by Leila's reaction, they weren't going to be gangbanging him any time soon. Not that he seriously considered using the axe, of course, but it was a good thing to have as a deterrent. He took another couple of steps forward.

"So, I don't wanna, like, ruin the moment or anything, actually I think you guys might have already ruined any sort of 'moment' that was going on, but really, do you at least know where we are? 'Cause I figure we're in the mountains, only that doesn't help because they're kind of big. Big as mountains, I'd say, actually."

He hoped that that last bit might loosen them up. People liked humor, especially when they were in such a stupid situation as this. The problem was, of course, that he wasn't sure that it was actually funny, although maybe if it was unfunny enough, it might wrap around to funny again and at least give them a chuckle. His prognostication seemed to be at least partially correct in that between them, they seemed to be attractive, nice, and mentally stable - but not individually, of course, and three redeeming qualities is a tough split between two people.

He scraped some dirt with the spike of his axe while he waited.
VeeFive


V4


NO. THERE IS NO MORE TIME, EVEN FOR CAKE. FOR YOU, THE CAKE IS OVER. YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF CAKE.

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Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Jimmy Brennan continued from Woods of Paranoia ))

Fuck. Me. Fuck. Me. Fuck Me.

Fuck. Me.

Fuck. Me.


Jimmy Brennan trudged up the rocky slope, his face red, his body drenched in sweat. His red hair stuck to his face (When it was busy not getting fucked about every which way by the wind). It was hot. Too fucking hot. The five stages of grief are, in order; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and finally Acceptance.

The first two stages of Jimmy Brennan on SotF? Utter Hysterics and Rage respectively.

"Fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK you. FUCK you. Fuck YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU!"

Jimmy chanted to no one in particular as he ascended the rocky slope, his heavy bag weighing him down. He kicked up dirt and turned around staring down at the forest below.

The forest which more likely than not, held his future killer.

"FUCK YOU!!!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"Fuck you, fucking Danya! What the fuck, did you get dicked in the ass one too many times as a kid!? You stupid fucking fucktard, I DON'T DESERVE TO DIE! I'M JIMMY BRENNAN! Why the fuck did you pick me!? I'm BETTER THAN YOU! I don't deserve to die!"

He sank (or rather plopped down) onto his butt, throwing his pack beside him. He breathed deeply through his nose as he opened it.

It has to be a mistake. That soda, Mom must have packed it for me. I've got an Uzi in here, I just know it. I'll blow that fuckers face off with it, fatass cunt Danya...

Jimmy grew frantic, tossing the contents of the bag out onto the rocky slope. He could feel hot tears stain his face once more, but he blinked them back.

No! No, I'm better than this! I'm not crying! I'm not going to cry ever again, I'm better than that! I'm better than Danya, and I'm not going to let him get to me! I'm not going to let any of this get to me!

Jimmy pulled out the can of Moxie and looked at it mournfully.

Moxie.. what the heck is Moxie? I know why he gave me this. Because, because I'm such a huge badass, I don't need to start with an Uzi to kill people. I can start with a can of soda an- an I'll make it. He put this in here, because he wants me to show him that I'm a man...

"Mommy...." He managed to croak out. Jimmy blinked back more tears. Angrily, he shoved the can back in the bag and threw the rest of the contents of the sack back in.

Yeah fuckin' right! He doesn't think I'm a man, but I'll show him.. I've gotta show him! Because there isn't anything else left to do now, 'cept show them all who I am, what I'm made of. Show the haters that Jimmy Brennan is the man, and they really shoulda' invited him to that party...

"Where the shit am I? Some mountain of- of... shit, when the hell could terrorists afford to buy their own mountain!?" Jimmy yelled to no one in particular. He adjusted the pack on his back and looked back up. He was beginning to think he should have pulled out his map before ditching Keith and that pansy Carl-

Jimmy blinked. A map floated in the breeze down towards him.

"The....fuck..."

He reached out and swatted the map out of the air.

Map. People. Killers.

Jimmy looked up the hill and saw just what he had feared, people. Three of them in fact. His eyes bulged and he froze.

Have.. have they seen me? I'm standing in the road, of course they've seen me... Oh god.. are they... are they going to shoot?

Jimmy squinted up at them.

No... are they good guys? They don't look like Jocks, or those Preps who are always chirping me... Maybe they are... maybe...

He looked down at his pack, and an idea struck him. He began to walk towards the group.

Moxie. Weapon. What if I could get a weapon? What if I could get a weapon...?

"Hey! 'Sup!" He called out. He could feel his balls swelling to ten times their size. He smirked in delight.

Yeah, that's right. Death game, and I'm casually callin' out to my classmates. Hehe, they probably had a 20 minute standoff, barely able to talk. No one could possibly act this cool, 'cept me. I can't be bothered to freak out, I got this all under control, that's why.

Yeah, that's why.


"It's Jimmy Brennan!" He called out.

Hope they don't know me... I need them to know who I'm 'supposed' to be...

Would be easier to steal that way...
Edited by Little Boy, Aug 26 2010, 12:18 AM.
V5
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Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
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Hallucinojelly
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God was telling you "not yet".
[ *  *  *  * ]
"Leila!"

"What?!"

"Look, hey, hey, I'm sorry! Okay? That was my bad, look, lemme make it up to you. Alright? Look, here, how's this, you're a loyal customer of J. Franco and Associates, so how about- check this out- I hook you up with a map. I got one too, so don't sweat it, you're good."

What the fuck was he talking about? He could "hook her up"? What was he, a map dealer? She wouldn't put it past him, to be honest. Flicking her hair back with her hands, she held up her index finger at Cody (one sec) as she turned to face the mafia wannabe with an astonished look. Was he serious? Of all the places to try and do business, he was choosing this one? An island in the middle of nowhere inhabited only by her former classmates who now had all kinds of guns and drugs and knives in their possession? Yeah, great job Jeremy, you really know when to pick your moments, don't you? Near shouting again, she was stopped by another torrent of babble relentlessly gushing from the salesman's creepy mouth.

That was a good word for him: creepy.

"Plus, I'll throw in an offer of protection, yeah? We go around together, kicking ass, following my map, I make sure all the pervs stay away from you? Sound good? Yeah?"

A smirk.

"Okay, and what happens when there's no pervs left? I suppose that's when King Perv himself will want something in return for all that "protection" he's gonna give me, right? I'm guessing he'll want to see a slip of pink rather than green though, right? I mean, you'd know, being his right-hand man and all - RIGHT?." Not holding back on the sarcastic air quotes, she rolled her eyes at the boy's proposition before returning to her bag and quickly began to stuff everything back into it. She needed to get out of here before Jeremy got any more ideas about the two of them partnering up, that was for sure. Hell if people got the wrong idea and thought they'd started dating or something. Ugh, the thought alone made Leila's skin crawl.

Screw the map for now, it can wait. I am not sticking around to get slobbered on by Jeremy fucking Franco.

"So, I don't wanna, like, ruin the moment or anything, actually I think you guys might have already ruined any sort of 'moment' that was going on, but really, do you at least know where we are? 'Cause I figure we're in the mountains, only that doesn't help because they're kind of big. Big as mountains, I'd say, actually."

"What?" What was he talking about? Big as - ugh, this was getting ridiculous. Apparently, all the guys on the island were woman-beaters, rats or retards. Wow, she could see the adverts now: "Old? Single? Looking for love with a greasy 18 year-old boy from Minnesota? Then why not visit www.creepyteensresort.com now to find the worm of your dreams today! (And yes, that IS a euphemism)." Okay, seriously, what was in that sleeping gas? Shaking her head, she mumbled quiet curses as she closed up the daypack and flung it over her shoulders. Oh, God, that was heavy. Taking a long look at the two boys, she briefly considered asking Cody - the lesser of two evils - to come with her, if only to carry her things.

"You're absolutely right, Cody, this is the mountains, well done. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna leave now because you two are a pair of fucking morons." Smiling as sweetly as she could just to piss them off, she started down the slope again before yet another boy entered the scene and blocked her path.

"Hey! 'Sup!"

...Well, shit.

"It's Jimmy Brennan!"

Leila groaned obnoxiously at the sight of him sweating his way up the hill. Really? He wanted to hang out with them? She just couldn't believe it. It was the fun fair all over again, except this time she unintentionally made herself the main attraction. It wasn't her fault she looked so damn good covered in dirt and scratches, so why was she being punished for it? With a great sigh, she wandered back into the clearing, dropping her stuff right down where she'd picked it up from just a few seconds ago.

"Rats and retards, Leila... rats and retards." She muttered under her breath as she slumped down onto the uncomfortable bag.
Hello again.
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Jonny
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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
[ *  *  * ]
"Okay, and what happens when there's no pervs left?"

Well then they'd be a really hot and kickass couple who had just kicked lots of ass and been hot. Jeremy thought that part was really obvious, and he tried to think of a genteel way to phrase it but oh God she was still talking, she was still saying words from her mouth.

"I suppose that's when King Perv himself will want something in return for all that "protection" he's gonna give me, right?"

But why would it matter what King Perv wanted if the guy was dea- oh God it was him, he was King Perv all along.

"I'm guessing he'll want to see a slip of pink rather than green though, right? I mean, you'd know, being his right-hand man and all - RIGHT?."

Okay there were a lot of metaphors to navigate in that one so- wait so he wasn't King Perv after all, that was somebody different- but all the other pervs were dead in this scenario so it didn't make fucking sense. Jeremy paused, collected himself, and tried to parse out some sort of meaning- I think the implication is that I'll kill a bunch of perverts and then start jacking off- and quickly realized that this was getting awkward. And oh Christ she was already turning her attention to the other blowjob that had shown up- and he was saying weird shit to her about big mountains and he was probably talking about her tits - and Oh Jesus fuck what if he has a map too??? So in order to preserve the integrity of his spiderweb, he, uh, needed to say something, say something, just quick, just say something, just say anything, say-

"It's Jimmy Brennan!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP JIMMY BRENNAN I'M SHOUTING OVER YOU." Yes this was a good thing to say and it established him as above Jimmy Brennan in the pecking order. Jeremy imagined what kind of girl would accept a map from Jimmy Brennan, and quickly came to a conclusion: ugly sluts. Leila was a lot higher class than that. "LEILA YOU'RE A LOT HIGHER CLASS THAN THAT so ummm, no, yeah I would never do anything like that or demand anything like that because it would be totally creepy and pervy. And I don't roll like that, honest, promise, so like if King Perv shows up I'll kick his ass for you and I won't even need anything in return so don't worry!"

Okay yes this was awesome, he was totally turning this deal around despite some initial setbacks. He just needed something to clinch this shit, some kind of final offer to seal the deal on this slam dunk like-

"AND I'LL THROW IN THREE SLICES OF MY BREAD."
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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Fanatic
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A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Jason Harris continued from Flowerhead))

The group of boys had been hiking for quite some time now. Originally the plan had been to head to town, hole up and see what they could do from there, once a base of operations was established. However after some consultation between the boys the fact that the town could, and most likely would be a cluster fuck made that idea a little less appealing. From the quick inventory the group had made Jason was unsure whether every student had been assigned a gun or not. The four of them certainly had and if this was the case he strongly suspected that the town would be a prime example of a paint ball match gone terribly wrong although in this case the mental image included less paint and more bullets whizzing through the streets. So instead they had opted to head towards the mountain, hopefully get to the radio tower and secure that location instead.

The reasoning behind this was twofold. Firstly they strongly doubted many of the students would bother with the long hike associated with reaching the structure and secondly it was remote enough and probably well built enough to work as a good primary rally point. Plus the mountain was a excellent landmark. The trip itself had been relatively uneventful, from time to time they had spotted figures possibly moving in the distance and had made a wide berth around the smoking ruins of the sawmill, despite protests from some of the group members to investigate. Although from time to time conversation perked up most of the trip was relatively sullen and sombre with little said over long periods of time. They had briefly toyed with the idea of moving all the gear in to one pack and storing any excess in a hidden cache if needed elsewhere but Jason had deferred to Nathan in this instance and instead opted to scout ahead of the group as they reached the mountainous area ahead.

He never strayed too far from the group but had handed his bag over to the trio following in order to make himself a little lighter on his feet. It wasn't too long before the loud, demanding voice of Jeremy Franco reached his ears. Motioning for the group to hold up Jason scrambled up the rocky surface to try and gain a good view of the potential enemies, or allies ahead. Peeking over the rock formation Jason watched as Jeremy finished his sales pitch.

Turning back to the group who waited a little below he signalled. First pointing to his eyes and then holding up four fingers, mouthing the words "I see four people" He thought for a second on how to convey the lack of guns and that two were male and two were female before frowning.

Probably should of thought that out before hand, hell we had enough time.

He glanced back at the group on the small plateau before motioning for them to move up.

If we get around them we probably can control the situation, hopefully Nathan will make a call. Once again probably should of thought this through

Having second thoughts Jason started to move again, deciding the best cause of action would be to regroup and then discuss what to do. It just so happened that his foot slipped ever so slightly, causing a few rocks and pebbles to careen down the side of the outcrop of where he was standing. The Australian froze mid climb, his left hand on his gun while the other pulled out to steady his balance. He definitely didn't want to cause any kind of rock slide and he hoped that none of the people he watched had heard him.

He watched with baited breath as one of the pebbles bounced and rolled its way across the ground before finally resting at Cody's foot.

Well fuck.
Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

William 'Woozie' Wu - "Hey Pheebs, you're amazing babe."

V4
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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Liam "Brook" Brooks continued from Flowerhead))

Brook had not objected to the change of course when Jason suggested it. Then again, in his stage of mind, he probably would've jumped off of a cliff if Jason had asked him to. His state of mind was still locked in something that could easily be taken advantage of, and the worst part was that the gentle gardener was fully aware of it - he was aware of his weakness, his general uselessness, how he was so close to just crumpling into a lifeless ball of sobs until he had been pulled out of it by his friends.

He hated being that person. He yearned and starved for an ounce of strength, even just enough to put up a facade for Maf, Jason and Nathan, to show them that he could travel with them. He had shown them nothing but a nervous wreck, though, and continued to do so. To top it all off... against it all, in the face of all of this, they all seemed to still be supporting him.

It was then that it struck Brook; you made friends in high school, but in a place like this hell he had been placed in, that's where the friendships are tested.

As the four boys headed to their new destination, Brook had been doing one of two things. The first thing was toying with the weapon in his hand, which had been the only thing that he had kept out of his daypack. Everything else had to be shoved back in, including the manual, since it was a little hard to read it and work the gun at the same time while walking. The other thing he had been doing while idly manipulating the tool that he really didn't want to use was looking at his three companions, one after another.

You know what? We're... we're gonna be okay if we stick together. I just know it. I'm the weakest link right now, but I'll man up soon, I always do. Just... I have to fight through this panic. I WILL fight through this!

Once they had actually arrived at the mountain (at least, Brook guessed it was THE mountain... it was the only remotely mountainous area he had seen, even if the peak was a little less than profound), Brook's enthusiasm began to bolster. All four of them were in pretty good shape, since they were all either on track, cross country, or football. All athletic kids, all armed with guns... it only further convinced Brook that everything was simply meant to be okay. He would be fine, all they had to do was find somewhere safe, all learn how to use their weapons, and scare everybody away!

Then Jason began to climb a rocky ledge.

Well, THIS certainly had deja vu written all over it. Brook's eyes were locked on Jason, hoping that in some convoluted way, his gaze would lock Jason to the ledge and prevent him from falling off. The other boy's hands went to his eyes, then signalled 'four'.

.... Four what?

Brook mulled that over for a bit, then nearly slapped himself. Four of what... HONESTLY. There were four students over the ledge Jason was looking at, though that didn't help with with who they were. Earlier, his ears caught a male voice, maybe another male voice, but Brook recognized neither right off the bat. Kids here sounded... different. The amount of stress imbued in their bodies changed them for the worse, making them darker, more sullen.

In anticipation for things going horribly wrong, Brook readied his weapon. He wasn't even sure it was loaded properly yet, but the gun seemed a bit heavier then he thought it should have been (it just looked... so small and pathetic). He also couldn't find a safety anywhere on the weapon, but according to the others, there was supposed to be a button somewhere that would unlock it or... something. Brook really wasn't sure, as the others' guns just looked so much better. Maybe his was old, or homemade, or something, and really had no safety.

... Well. That was just dangerous.
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Sep 1 2010, 09:16 AM.
V6 Tributes

Spoilers, Ricky didn't win V5

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Rattlesnake
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Now you may be wondering, who was wearing the bolo tie? Me or the shark? Answer: YES!
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Super-delayed post. Writer's block is a cruel mistress.))

And now everyone was just coming right out of the woodwork.

Heh. Woodwork. We're in the woods. Better not say that one aloud...

So, first there was Jimmy, and then - no, first was him, because he'd kind of walking in on what he didn't exactly want to call their 'moment,' seeing as that words was generally used for something more magical than a shouting match. So, there was him, and he had to guess that Jeremy had burst in before he had, since neither he nor Leila was dead, as would be the most likely outcome of them traveling together. Darnit.

So, there was Leila. And then Jeremy, and then himself. And now Jimmy, who had walked into the open and ruined his excellent disguise as an extremely foul-mouthed tree. Just when things were getting awkward, there was some disturbance and a rock came tumbling down to his level, and there was another guy walking on some little ridge. And meanwhile, everyone seemed to be vying for the attention of the one girl. It was kind of like a feeding frenzy, or that one time when someone had dared to say the word "baby" in a nursing home. And all he wanted was just a good idea of where he was, darnit.

"All I want is a just a good idea of where I am, darnit."

The whole scene was quite a bit more than he had expected, just a few minutes ago and he was strolling unaware over the mountain and now there were a bunch of people here, and really the thing he wanted most was a nice place to go sit down or lie down or something, maybe take a nap or something, just to rest himself and be ready for whatever came next. But this - oh, honestly, three slices of bread? Is this The Bachelorette?

He frowned. He didn't want to just slip away unannounced, which would be rude or something, although that didn't really matter because holding out your pinky didn't stop bullets. He strolled over to a tree and sat down on a matted tangle of exposed roots, looking over the situation, eying the guys surrounding Leila, looking up at the elevated hiker with only slight consternation, probably being a lot cooler about it than he had expected. Swinging the spike of his axe into the ground, he looked on, wondering if he could even get a word in edgewise.

"You know, maybe I'll just kind of walk wherever, I'm sure these mountains end somewhere..."
VeeFive


V4


NO. THERE IS NO MORE TIME, EVEN FOR CAKE. FOR YOU, THE CAKE IS OVER. YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF CAKE.

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Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
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Jimmy felt his blood begin to boil. He grinded his teeth as he strode up the hill towards the group. Jimmy didn't exactly expect a welcoming, especially from anyone from Bayview, but this was beyond rude. It seemed like his past life was simply caring over, from the hallways of the school to this desolate Island. He balled his hands into fists as he climbed the hill, making out the figures. Jeremy was the one who had yelled at him, there another boy and a girl, Leila, Jimmy was pretty certain that was her name. They didn't matter though. He'd tried diplomacy, it'd failed miserably.

People change out here? Fuck that. People don't change. People were ALWAYS like this. I don't threaten them, I don't point a fucking gun in their face, I don't do fucking ANYTHING but walk up, all cool like, and they tell me to fuck off. Well I'm not taking this. Why the fuck should I? I've got a Million to One chance of actually fucking surviving this shit, why the fuck should I listen to assholes like Keith, calling me crazy, assholes like Jeremy Franco telling me to shut the fuck up? Why should I!? Why should they get to stop me!?

"NO! You shut the fuck up Jeremy! Go suck a fat dick you braindead skullfucked faggot! Don't you ever tell me to shut up!" He yelled.

"You have any idea what the fuck I've been through today? Fuckin' down there, people are going crazy! I barely got out alive, that dickhole Keith tried to kill me earlier! I've been walking this entire god damn day, with a fuckin' stick of TNT strapped to my JUGULAR- so don't tell me to shut up! Do you know how much ass I've kicked already today? A fuck-ton! I fucking kicked Keith's ass, because he tried to mess with me! They're all probably dead now, because they tried to fuck with the Jimmy Brennan! So don't push me Jeremy, I'll rip off your tongue and jam it in your ass you slutfucking faggot!"

He kicked a stray rock and sent it skidding down the slope. He glared at Leila and the other boy. Had they even been listening to what he was yelling? He doubted it, they barely gave him a passing glance. Jeremy was talking, ignoring him still. It was only making him more pissed off. He continued up the slope towards the group.

"Hey! Shut up- did you hear a word I just said?!" He snapped at Jeremy. The boy paid him no heed. Jeremy raised something up in his hand. Jimmy squinted. The boy was holding something. A weapon?

That could be useful. I could deck him and take it. That would be so badass, then I wouldn't be stuck with this can of soda... I'd show that fucker Danya, I'd give him one helluva show. Light up this entire Island, then he'll take me collar off and I'd be like "Suck my dick" and chop his head off, just because he pissed me off in the first place..

"AND I'LL THROW IN THREE SLICES OF MY BREAD." Jeremy said loudly.

"Are you even listening to me?" Jimmy snapped again, finally reaching the group. He looked around at them, examining the item in Jeremy's hand. The ascent was a long one, and finally given a chance to halt, Jimmy's question came out in between long gulps of air. He tried his best to conceal it, he didn't want them thinking he was a pussy, not even able to climb a hill.

What the hell is that thing he's holding, a cane? Well that isn't useful, never mind then... God, why is it so hot out? I'm boiling out here,...

He looked at the others. Leila didn't hold anything, and she seemed kind of ticked off. The girl sat on her bag, staring up at Jimmy and the others. Harmless, a nuisance at best.

Probably lost a hairpin or something, that's why she's so annoyed hehe...

The other boy was someone Jimmy didn't recognize. The curly haired boy was silent at the moment, examining the others quizzically. He wasn't really want Jimmy was interested in however. Casually held at his side was something Jimmy was interested in, an Ax.

Holy shit, he could really do some damage with that thing...

As much as he didn't want to admit it, being so close to a weapon made Jimmy nervous. It wasn't the fact that there was one there, but rather the fact that he wasn't holding it.

"All I want is a just a good idea of where I am, darnit." The boy said.

"Oh? A good idea? Hm, well y'know, you could look around. We're on a goddamn Mountain. Fuckin' trees, down there. Lotta' trees. There are some rocks. Oh, there is a sea too. Big ass fuckin' sea. We might be on well, one of those 'Island' things, you may have heard about them. They're a pretty big deal." Jimmy said sarcastically.

"Of course, when you actually think about it, that doesn't really fuckin' matter now does it kid? What matters is we're on Survival of the Fittest. That means we've got fuck-heads with guns walking around in the woods down there, blowin' peoples brains out. Don't even doubt it, I've seen it. Fuckin' half of us are probably dead already, not everyone is smart like me, heading for the mountain."

He smirked at the boy, a thought suddenly dawning on him.

Jimmy Brennan, you are a smart motherfucker... Looks like you've got the upper hand..

"You know, maybe I'll just kind of walk wherever, I'm sure these mountains end somewhere..."

"No no no, see, listen. Not everyone is as lucky as you all, coming across me. Down there, people are getting their faces ripped off and y'know, all that bad shit. See, I've already had to fight for my life, I'm not even jokin'. They underestimated me, which is what I was expecting. See, I don't mean to brag, but I'm one helluva fighter. I know all about street fighting an' all that, I can probably drop a guy in a punch- I mean, if I WANTED to. Point is, I'm the good guy. Only problem is uh- I gave my weapon to some other kid, because he got a shitty one. He'll last longer that way. He'll still die, but y'know. It's the thought that counts really. Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, walking wherever is a stupid idea. You gotta' have a plan. I've been all over this Island, I found a really good safe house. You can wait there, get a few days rest or whatever. I'll take you to it- if you give me that sick-ass Ax you're carrying. Sound like a fair deal?"

He looked over towards Jeremy, shooting him a look of disgust.

"Except you Jeremy. You can fuck off and die."

Ooooh, how does that feel Jeremy? Bet you regret makin' fun of me now. I bet they all do. Because I'm smart, and I can win this if I play it smart... I just gotta convince them I know a safe house, jack that Axe and take off and I'll- OHHH SHIT what the fuck is that a bear!?

Jimmy skittered back as a figure appeared on the overlooking cliff behind them, a figure he knew well. Jason Harris.

....Balls. Well that goes out the window.

"Oh shit!" He said, pointing towards the ridge. Jason stood, another boy close behind him. More importantly however, Jason appeared to have something in his hand, he felt as if buckets of sweat were pouring out of him.

"GUN! Gun! Shit, shit, Jason got a gun!" Jimmy squealed.
Edited by Little Boy, Sep 5 2010, 06:55 PM.
V5
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Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
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"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


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On the left is a mod, on the right is a pre-made psycho...get the picture?
[ *  *  *  * ]
Nathan hadn't really said anything against going up the mountain. In fact he was glad that they had gone that way instead of the town. Towns brought crowds, and crowds inevitably had people that were all to willing to let loose their weapons on him and his buddies. To be sure he didn't want to deal with that at all.

The climb was long and slightly tiring. He was more known as a sprinter than one that would handle long distance races. Add to the fact that there was elevation as well and he was feeling a little winded. He took a swig of water when they stopped and sat down to catch his breath.

Nathan was surprised that Jason figured he'd be best to be their second in command and start making some decisions for the group. He wasn't exactly leader material, at least thats what he thought. He wasn't meant to take a roll of leadership, he was just going to follow his friends because, well, it certainly beat sitting around and waiting for the timid kid that nobody liked to come to the decision that everyone should die because they didn't add him on facebook or talk to him in the hallways.

Before he could say to much about his newly appointed position. Jason was off, "scouting" apparently. Nathan wasn't exactly keen on that idea. If the leader was the one scouting and he found a player and didn't come back...

Ugh Nathan stop that...

Jason continued to scramble up the face, it looked like he had heard something. His body began to tense up, it was only natural, the fear of what was just over that ridge...

When their scout and leader turned back to them he raised up four fingers which Nathan assumed meant that there were four people on the other side. He confirmed this by mouthing the words, but he neglected to say if they were armed. Well, it was at least something, now all Jason needed to do was go down and...

Nathan heard something ruffling right beside him, which caused him to whip his head to the side and saw Brook looking at his gun. His eyes began to widen and he let out a low hiss.

"Dude," he whispered, "What the hell are you doing? We don't know what's out there yet!"

"No no no, see, listen. Not everyone is as lucky as you all, coming across me. Down there, people are getting their faces ripped off and y'know, all that bad shit. See, I've already had to fight for my life, I'm not even jokin'. They underestimated me, which is what I was expecting. See, I don't mean to brag, but I'm one helluva fighter. I know all about street fighting an' all that, I can probably drop a guy in a punch- I mean, if I WANTED to. Point is, I'm the good guy. Only problem is uh- I gave my weapon to some other kid, because he got a shitty one. He'll last longer that way. He'll still die, but y'know. It's the thought that counts really. Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, walking wherever is a stupid idea. You gotta' have a plan. I've been all over this Island, I found a really good safe house. You can wait there, get a few days rest or whatever. I'll take you to it- if you give me that sick-ass Ax you're carrying. Sound like a fair deal?"

Nathan turned back to where Jason was (still) lying, the voice was familiar, it took a moment for him to realize it and then it came to him...

"Is that...Is that that tool Jimmy Brennan?" he mumbled.

Jimmy was one of those guys who did nothing but boast in the weight room during their younger years at Bayview. Then we he pissed someone off he didn't back it up and just ran with his tail between his legs. He hadn't really done much recently, just kinda kept quiet, which was admittedly best for the whole school in his opinion.

"Well this is just perfect... Oi, Jason," he said, trying to keep as quiet as possible, "Just get back he-"

"Oh shit! GUN! Gun! Shit, shit, Jason got a gun!"

Nathan groaned, "God fucking damn it..."
v5 characters
B054:Oscar Trig-Smoker, Artist, Film Buff

Please, message me if you have ideas, I sure don't!

Fall down seven times...
Stand up eight...
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Hallucinojelly
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God was telling you "not yet".
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"AND I'LL THROW IN THREE SLICES OF MY BREAD."

Seriously? What the fuck was this guy on?

Raging, she leapt to her feet.

"Fuck off Jeremy! I don't want your help and I certainly don't wanna eat any of your shitty-assed bread! You're a fucking loser, Jeremy Franco - a fucking creepy rat-boy LOSER!"

Much better. That ought to keep him the hell away from her for a while, and hell, she felt pretty good after that. It was definitely one of things she loved about being her fine self; she could do and say whatever the fuck she pleased. Now she could - oh for fuck's sake what's happening now why is Jimmy Brennan talking such shit oh my fucking God.

"Oh shit!"

Leila was the first to look. Up until then she'd been ignoring Jimmy's bullshit rant about how he was the fucking best at this game, but when he started pointing up at the mountain, almost pissing himself, she knew something was wrong.

And she was right.

"GUN! Gun! Shit, shit, Jason got a gun!"

There he was, Jason Harris, standing right above them, with a fucking gun in his hands.

By the look on his face, it seemed he was just as surprised at the unfolding events as everyone else, almost as though he'd been caught red-handed trying to get a good aim on the group.

Oh God, he's going to kill me, the fuck do I do?!

Well, there was one thing she could do. After all, she was the only girl here, wasn't she? Surely that would make her the odd one out if the guy got trigger happy... right?

She eyed her bag as it sat by her feet, wondering if there was anything in there she could use if a fight broke out. Rope, water, bread... fucking bread. Why wasn't Jeremy doing anything? She couldn't have said anything to him that no other girl wouldn't have said before, so he should stop crying about it and get his ratty ass in gear. He couldn't just let Leila die - she was too good to die, way better-looking than all the sluts in their year. Especially that skank Rosa, at any rate. Leila would never drop her panties for a guy, no matter how much he bought for her, no matter how big his dick happened to be. Like Jeremy said, she was a classy chick. No man had ever taken her down before, so what made Harris think he'd have better luck just because he had a gun?

Looking round frantically at the people surrounding her, she began to shout.

"Come on you dickless bastards, do something!"
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