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Gypsy Rap
Topic Started: Nov 1 2010, 05:29 AM (5,098 Views)
ifnotwinter
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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Erik Laurin continued from Come & See. I'll let you dudes get your post order all fixed and awesome before I jump in, k?))

Erik wasn't entirely sure when he'd lost the rest of the group. It had been early on, he'd ducked out to take a piss against a tree, awkward sense of embarassment rearing its head and making him search long and hard for an area out of camera-reach. It wasn't that he was...you know, ashamed or anything, but he'd rather not have however many viewers on TV plus the Internet chat rooms he knew existed discussing his manly bits. And then he thought he was following them, following the shapes of footsteps on the ground, but in the end, he wasn't Ranger Rick. And when the footsteps had failed to materialize into people, even when he dug into that hidden strength he used during his track and field meets.

Nothing.

So he'd wandered. Biting back the fear, he'd carefully moved through woods, through fields of chopped-off trunks, trying to keep his eyes off the cameras. Seeing so many groups of students, but none that he wanted to join with. None he felt comfortable joining up with. Because how would he know? The announcements rippling through the air informed him of the dead and the killers, but they didn't come in any way frequently. And the weapons he saw, the people carrying them...

So he moved on his own. He thought vaguely about home. Occasionally, when he simply couldn't ignore the cameras anymore, he gave a crooked smile. If Kimber did watch, becaus he knew she would, maybe she'd catch that. Maybe she'd see her brother smile again. Maybe she could show that freeze-frame to Pierre, and to the twins, give them one last thing to cling onto. One last thing to remember. If he died-

When he died.

He would make sure to do it somewhere they couldn't see.

And now, in the night-time, he could see firelight. He moved in close, watching the light hungrily as he munched on stale crackers. He didn't want to join the group, but there was something about the twinkling light that was strangely comforting. He curled back against a tree, twisted his bracelets in one hand, and watched it, eyes slipping shut every now and then into an almost-sleep.


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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ifnotwinter
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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Erik wasn't entirely sure when he woke up, from half-remembered dreams of childhood and scattered memories. He came back to the world slowly, moving sluggishly through a haze of fatigue until he managed to shake it off and focus once more on the firelight in front of him. There were people moving now, and talking. First softly, then louder, sounding worried. But not angry. They didn't sound like they were about to self-destruct into shooting, for instance.

That was always a good sign.

He stretched his legs and winced as little muscle cramps tightened his calves briefly, and his toes loudly protested the cold inside their slightly less than roomy sneakers. That firelight was looking mighty tempting right about now. If it came down to it he could probably flee pretty quickly, and in the meantime, a chance to warm up and actually talk with some people sounded amazing.

It was weird to think that some of the people he'd talked to recently probably weren't alive anymore. Or wouldn't be for much longer. He shook the thought away like so much water and pushed himself to his feet, slinging his pack over his back and moving quietly through the forest of stumps, not trying to make himself unnoticeable but not tramping around like Bigfoot either.

He opened his mouth to speak as he neared the campfire, but any words he might have been planning to say died in his throat as he got a closer look at the boy stretched out next to it, blood-spattered, being attended by two girls. Familiar hair, not brown, not red, somewhere in between. Warm eyes.

Brendan.

He was moving before he even realized, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to get to the slightly smaller boy's side. Dropping hard to his knees, he reached forwards and then pulled back, hands hovering in the air, desperate to help but unsure how.

"Brendan..."


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Erik rocked backwards on his heels as Brendan tackled him, absorbing the weight and wrapping his arms around the smaller boy in turn. He knew, vaguely, that there were other people here, two girls, but right now he couldn't care less about them. This was more important. Somehow it mattered more than seeing the boys he'd originally met up with, the one's he'd lost days ago, and he didn't entirely understand that but some little part of his mind told him not to question. If he was going to feel utterly ecstatic that he'd found his boyfriend, despite the circumstances, then he was just going to let it happen.

He couldn't stay still, though. Brendan was clinging to his neck with a death grip, but Erik had just enough room to breathe and that was all he needed. Running his hands up and down Bren's body, he searched for wounds other than the one he could see, bloody bandages wrapped around his leg, obviously not finished, hanging sloppily off the limb in a rather stomach-churning fashion that made Erik wonder just how bad the injury below was. But his hands didn't give him anything else, no broken bones, no holes, nothing of that sort, and he bent his head into Brendan's hair to inhale sweat and dirt and sand and blood, holding onto the knowledge that he was alive, he was alive and he wasn't going to die, he was going to be okay.

"It's okay," he muttered, eyes shut, not caring what the girls thought, "it's okay it's okay it's okay, Brendan, it's going to be okay, I'm here, it'll be - I'll take care of you, I'll take care of everything. It's gonna be okay. Shh. Shhhh."

He managed to shift himself backwards, wiggling until he was sitting on his ass in the dirt, branches scratching at his back. He didn't care. He pulled Brendan closer, holding him in his lap, hands still checking and rechecking his body, needing to know, needing to understand, that there was still one constant in this everchanging world he could rely on.

"It'll be okay, I promise, I promise, everything's gonna be fine, shhh, I promise, it'll be okay," a litany of soothing words tumbling from his lips, hoping against hope that Brendan didn't realize just how many of the words were for Erik's sake, because he needed this, god.

He needed Brendan. He needed something. He'd been coasting through the days by pretending nothing was happening, shying away from guns, fights, (death), ignoring the announcements, trying desperately to just be the same person he'd always been because the person he'd always been was able to handle this, was strong enough to see what was going on around him. But now he had to see it, couldn't not p with the bloodstained body of his boyfriend sobbing in his arms, of course he had to see it. And he had to realize.

People are going to die.

He is
not going to be one of them.

Since twelve years old, he'd been scared of death. Terrified. Gnawing fear in his stomach every time his father or mother came home late without calling, frantic to pick up the phone if it rang while a sibling was out just in case it was the hospital, barely able to form friendships because what happens when they die? And now it was happening. The thing everyone had said would never happen was real, and he was in the middle of it.

People were going to die. But this was it. He was in the middle of it and as terrifying and frightening and awful as that was it meant that he had control. He wouldn't be at home, watching a television screen numbly as his classmates fell. He could protect them. He could protect Brendan.

He could save him.

So he held on, rocking slightly, arms looped tightly around the smaller boy, and words fell from his lips like tumbling rain until even he didn't know what he was saying, just knew that it all meant the same thing.

I will protect you.


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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ifnotwinter
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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Oh, dear. Erik winced as shrill female voices filled the air, suddenly rather glad that they probably couldn't see his face through Brendan's body. An irrational, irritated, desperate part of him, the part that understood none of this and couldn't understand, wanted to yell right back and ask them how the fuck they would feel if they'd just found their boyfriend after days on this stupid fucking island full of people that wanted to fucking kill other people? But he swallowed it down, hard, reminded himself that they cared for Bren too, they just wanted to fix him up, make sure he was okay, and there sure as hell wasn't anything at all wrong with that.

Brendan wiggled off his lap, and that little part of Erik that was screaming wanted to drag him right back. He resisted this urge as well, settling for reaching out (there were some advantages to having gargantuan Bigfoot-arms after all) and just brushing the back of Brendan's hair before he was too far out of reach. The smaller boy was apologizing for wasting supplies and grabbing first aid stuff out of his own bag, in a gesture so - ridiculous that it made a smile twitch across Erik's face.

Here we all are, on a death island, one of us gets what's probably a bullet wound or knife slash to the leg, and he's all apologizing for being slightly hysterical?

Well. At least you know you're not dating an asshole.


A bubble of slightly hysterical laughter threatened to emerge, and he hastily coughed into his fist to hide it, scootching over on his butt so that Brendan's head, instead of being on the ground, was lying in his lap. He didn't want to admit how much he needed the physical contact right now, but in this position at least he could pretend it would be so that he could help hold Brendan if needed.

As it was, he roughly carded his fingers through the oddly-coloured hair, and smiled faintly. "Been better than you, looks like. Just a metric fuckton of bugbites and some unpleasant chafing."

Glancing up at the girls, he nodded quickly. He recognized them both, faintly - both started with S, right? The crying one was one of the Sarahs, he knew that much. Couldn't quite get the other's name yet, but it would come with time. "Sorry about the interruption, guess I just wasn't thinking. You guys, uh...you wouldn't mind if I tagged along, would you? Only I think this big lug," tapping Brendan's forehead fondly, "needs someone to keep him out of trouble, and I, uh. I'm pretty big so I guess I could make a good human shield or something? I'd offer to defend you, but my weapon was porn. Like, literally, a DVD of Chinese porn."

He winced.

"Apparently a giant dick is a major plot point. And while apparently it can kill people," and why, he wondered, would you put a picture of that on the back of the DVD cover, "mine is not that enormous."

Beat.

"Not...that...you cared, or anything, or thought I would beat people off with my giant dick and by beat people off I mean beat up. O-okay. Uh. I'm just, going to shut up now and if you would like me to talk again you will need to go through my handsome translator because apparently I just should not be allowed to talk ever."
Edited by ifnotwinter, Nov 24 2010, 02:12 AM.


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Erik had remained on the ground while Brendan leapt up to greet the new arrivals, stifling the urge to go with him, to help him walk. In a scenario like this the protective instinct he had kept close to his chest for most of his life wasn't a bad thing, particularly, but he recognized that at the moment there really wasn't much danger. He thought about his therapist, white-haired, probably slightly more immovable than a mountain. You have to learn to let people go, Erik. You create situations where they depend on you. It's not healthy. It contributes to your phobias. A small smile quirked on the edges of his mouth. She probably hadn't ever foreseen a situation like this.

But she had been right. He settled himself into the ground, quietly watching the reunion and absently picking dried blood off his fingers from Brendan's leg. He'd have to take a look at that later. He had no doubt Sarah had done a good job, but passing out soon afterward was never a good sign. Infections were nasty. That was something he could control, at least. It would help.

He was about to get up and move to the boys, intent on saying hi - also, he figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to tell them that he wasn't a threat - when the crackling static of the announcements rolled overhead. Unconsciously, he fixed his eyes on a camera as he listened, and when it finished and all that was left was disgruntled cheeps from the birds overhead he still sat, eyes unfocused.

People were dead.

Again.

Oh.

People he knew. Friends. He'd never had a memory for faces but now, somehow, they came back. Faces without names. Had they died yet? Brown hair, blonde hair, black, red, purple, all colours of the rainbow. Straight, curly, long, short. Smiles. Frowns. The last few announcements he hadn't - hadn't slept through, not exactly, but dozed through, shut himself off from them until all that mattered was where he could and couldn't go without his collar detonating. Now he heard them, and saw the reactions on the faces of all around him.

Brendan.

Brendan, still alive, face frozen in a rictus of shock and confusion. Hurting. Erik wanted to go to him, to make it better somehow, but he couldn't make his body move. Familiar voices taunted him. This is what he'll look like when you leave him, he thought stupidly. This is what he'll look like when you die and all those people you could have helped realize you're never coming back.

Or, this is what you'll look like when he dies. When everyone dies and you're left holding the gun.

He shook himself, hard. Not soon enough. Brendan was saying something about sleep, Erik had obviously missed something. Then he was moving, pulling Stacy away, apparently wanting to talk to her. They were too far away for Erik to hear, but he got up nonetheless, feeling stiff knees crack and groan.

He managed a half-smile at Rashid and Harun, sketched a quick wave but turned back, soon enough, to the core of their little area. It was easy enough to slip his jacket off and ball it up, slide it under Sarah's head, small comfort against the situation but maybe comfort itself.

Shivering occasionally in his thin t-shirt, he crouched over the packs, methodically stowing away the medical supplies and sorting out what was spoiled and unusable from what could still be useful


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
ifnotwinter
Member Avatar
half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Erik came back to himself just in time to hear Brendan's suggestion. Sleep. That sounded - well, it sounded good, but that was about it. He glanced around in some surprise at how easily everyone else appeared to be going to bed. Was it just him? Was the mounting paranoia inside his stomach the island eating away at him, gnawing on his thoughts until he had no choice but to give in? He couldn't be the only one scanning the skeleton trees for gun barrels, the shine of light on knives. But he seemed to be.

He got up slowly from his idle tidying, grabbing his pack from the ground. Starting to reflexively hunch his shoulders, he caught himself mid-slouch and straightened upwards. Bigger target, but more intimidating. He knew how to use his height. Hell, the few fights he'd been in had mostly been won by the fact that he was just that much taller, and could talk scary when he needed to.

Not that he wanted too. But here, in this place - this place wasn't home, anymore. He couldn't just be Erik. Erik wanted to curl up in a corner and hide. Erik wanted to run and run and run until nothing mattered anymore. Erik wanted to wrap Brendan in his jacket and hold him until rescue came, as it must, keeping him safe.

Erik didn't want to be here.

But here he was. He moved slowly into the center of the group, head ducked slightly but the rest of him standing tall, immovable. "I'll." His voice cracked and he stopped, cleared his throat. "I'll stand watch. Not that tired."

Was it true? It was hard to tell anymore. H was tired, a blanket of exhaustion wrapping his shoulders, but he knew it wouldn't let him sleep. Hard to think that only - how long ago? An hour? Less, more? He'd been cracking penis jokes. It hadn't seemed real, then. He'd been high on Brendan's life, on his own.

Now it sunk in. And the one thing that washed to the surface of the fear was simple enough.

Protect.


marc st. yves


light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire


lydia hausen


if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway


everything will be okay in the end


(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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