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Milk of Human Kindness; Open
Topic Started: Sep 21 2010, 03:49 PM (3,982 Views)
Shiola
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IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Kevin Warick continued from The Outsider))

"Holy shit!"

Kevin's exclamation was well-warranted. The announcement, from what actually managed to sink into his completely inebriated mind, established that there had been nineteen deaths in the last day. That was some serious holy shit. Seriously. In all seriousness, the holyness of that particular shit was something that Kevin could only gawk at. It wasn't that kind of surprise that was something someone had very little interest in. As a student on the island, with a bomb around his neck and a life that he wished to continue, it was something that Kevin had serious investment in. The level of violence and the number of killers were things that Kevin had to seriously factor into his decision making on the island. Particularly, where he planned to take shelter. The shack wasn't safe anymore. Some girl got shot, and died there. Corpses smelled bad, and they attracted other people. Who wanted to make Kevin a corpse, and therefore he would also begin to smell bad. That wouldn't be good.

"This isn't good. This is some serious shit."

Speaking of serious shit, Kevin would soon discover that he had, in fact, made it to the beach; and there were, in fact, people attempting to bury bodies. Kevin wasn't really sure why he'd picked the beach as a destination in the first place, but it just seemed like the thing to do. But it seemed that bodies would be following him wherever he went. Not like he was making the bodies.

"Sol, I create the bodies. I don't -erase- the bodies."

Oh, Snatch. Good movie. Great plotline, the acting was fantastic. Kevin particularly appreciated the way everything seemed to "come together" in the end. Full circle, really. Kevin could only hope that Danya would get a few shotgun shells to the face, ala the villain of that film. It probably wouldn't stop the terrorists. They'd just get someone more insane, and the programs would probably get worse than they were now. Of course, that was only speculation.

"Spec...you...lation!"

Drunkenly, he stumbled over to the people burying the bodies. He attempted to say something to the effect of "What are you doing?" but it sounded more like -

"Wharfuduing?"

Promptly, he fell over nearby in the sand. It seemed comfortable, so there he lay.
Edited by Shiola, Oct 7 2010, 11:06 PM.
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
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Shiola
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Kevin awoke from his booze and exhaustion-induced slumber. His glasses lay on his chest, and the ground felt rough, maybe even a bit sandy. When he opened his eyes, the rising sun brought upon him Kevin's new least favorite thing, second only to being a "player" in the "game" of "Survival of the Fittest" (overuse of quotations being the third): a hangover. Oh yes, the tremendous headache accompanied by a sensitivity to light and sound. Notwithstanding the feeling of bile and phlegm occupying one's mouth and throat. As soon as the orange glow of the sun appeared to him, Kevin brought his right hand to his eyes while his left hand searched for his tinted, John Lennon-esque glasses. They were soon resting comfortably once more on his face, and Kevin leaned back onto the sandy ground.

Once again, he tried to open his eyes. Slowly this time. The scene then revealed itself - an open beach with some recently dug sand a few feet away, and another boy lying a short distance away from him. It was strikingly more beautiful than what Kevin remembered of the night before - despair, a girl being shot and killed, and a long drunken wandering through a forest. Probably some fucked up dream, Kevin probably got lost at some house party and -

He felt his neck. The collar was still affixed to his neck, primed to explode at the slightest deviation from the intentions of the almost demonic creators of SOTF. Kevin sighed.

"Well, fuck. I'm still in SOTF, I'm hung over, and I don't know who the hell you are or if you're even still alive...

The phrase "fuck my life" comes to my mind, but I guess that's already been done. Thanks, Mister Danya."

Kevin turned his head towards the other boy, who he now saw was clearly still alive. Lethargic and in no mood to be moving around, he simply rolled slightly to the side to look at him as he spoke.

"Sorry, I think out loud. I'm Kevin. I just got drunk and witnessed a murder. You?"
Edited by Shiola, Oct 20 2010, 12:45 AM.
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
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Shiola
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The first boy who he met when he awoke decided it was pertinent to quote bible verses and say "God Bless" as he left. Normally Kevin really had no points of interest among religions or faith - he was a fairly agnostic person. Strangely enough, though, Kevin felt a sudden envy at what he perceived to be the stronger ability that faithful people had to face death. They expected a paradise on the other side, so it was easy to consider leaving this Earth. Kevin looked around. Paradise was a long, long way off. On a personal level, Kevin just couldn't subscribe to religion itself - it just didn't make much sense to him. Now, with the prospect of dying all around him, it seemed a lot more useful than he could've imagined.

The second one introduced himself as Andrew Mitchell, who had helped bury a kid who got shot in the head. Kevin couldn't help but smirk at the very casual way they both discussed experiences of death and the horrors around them. Kevin was certain he'd seen a black comedy SOTF sketch somewhere on Youtube. The site really lost any kind of taste a LONG time ago. In any case, they sounded quite similar.

Kevin sat up, and brushed off some of the sand.

"What a fucked up world we live in. "

He rubbed his eyes.

"So... have any plans for survival?"
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
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Shiola
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IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Kevin snorted at the idea.

"Honestly, I'd drink myself to death if I had enough, but I think I'd probably end up throwing it up first. I never really was good at holding my liquor... as you might've noticed."

Plan. There really wasn't any concrete answer that Kevin was expecting. It wasn't like there would be anyone on the island with any solid idea of how to really escape other than suicide, or killing everyone else. Other than that, you really didn't escape death at all. Though he'd gone over this again and again and again. Doing it once more really didn't help at all. No. There was no plan.

Kevin lingered on the idea, sighing and looking back up at Andrew. He shrugged, and simply sat there. Andrew quickly decided to take off, and Kevin followed him.

((Kevin Warick continued in Nothing To See))
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