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What Are Little Girls Made Of?; Night of day 3
Topic Started: Nov 1 2010, 06:51 PM (2,955 Views)
Ruggahissy
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((OOC Note: Private Thread))

((Ethan Kent continued from The Man-slut the Cocktease and the Lover))


Ethan and Feo had taken off walking from the tunnels in the direction of some mountains off in the distance. It was already past sunset and the mountains seemed like they would be a good source of natural shelter at the very least. In any case, Ethan was glad to finally be above ground and away from exploding things and those that would try to explode them.

The two decided to stop for the night in a well protected patch of greenery and trees in the mountains. He looked over briefly at his traveling companion. If you had to trek around a fucking murder island, doing it with a hot chick wasn’t such a bad way to do things. Even better, this hot chick was his kind. She had enough brains in her head not to do anything stupid, enough will to keep going and not crumble like the girl freaking out back at the caves, and enough bitchy-ness to make her entertaining to talk to.

He threw down their bags near a tree and started looking around for dry leaves and twigs. Ethan borrowed her oar to dig a hole 5 inches deep and threw the leaves and twigs in it. He gathered up some rocks and put them around the edges of the hole, then picked up a piece of wood and with a rock he carved a groove down the center. Ethan picked up a stick and ran it down the groove until a little pile of wood dust had accumulated. Next, he ran the stick down the groove as fast as he could and his reward was a small smolder from the dust. Gently, he blew on the tinder until it was recognizable as flame and tossed it into his pit. Soon they had a small fire to keep them company.

Ethan wiped his forehead and leaned back against a tree. The little fire crackled away happily. He looked over to Feo.

“Wanna have dinner?”
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Ruggahissy
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Barbs of hunger were stabbing up from his stomach through to his chest. It had been almost two days since he had eaten. Ethan hadn’t really brought any food on the trip so all that was left was the disgusting white bread they had been provided with. He hated white bread, but when push comes to shove there isn’t room to be a picky eater. He stuck his hand inside his duffle bag, fishing around to find the loaf but his hand felt something soft and unfamiliar; plastic. He pulled out a package of marshmallows. Taped to the bag was a note.

“Can’t go camping without marshmallows, little bro. – Whitney”


“Right, camping,” he laughed to himself. He grabbed a near by stick and tossed it to Feo. After ripping the bag open and grabbing a handful he tossed the bag to her too.

“So what if I am? I don’t want to imply that you are a cheap date, but the menu is a bit limited. It’s cool, I definitely won’t tip the waiter. This place sucks.”

Are we going to die and this rock? Yes. At least she will. So why not try to have some fun before we bite it?

“So what’s first date stuff we would talk about? We’ve already got basic first aid and threats of violence out of the way. So what, like, casual hobbies and bomb making is next, right?”
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Ruggahissy
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Ethan slid two marshmallows onto his stick and held it out to the fire.

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t have to tip shit as long as we don’t plan on coming back.”

The sugar began to burn and turn the puffy balls slightly brown.

“You know, if you count me tending to your wounds and spooning in a dirty mine shaft, this might actually be our third date. Then again, if we do count that, that means Duncan and I are on our way to a fancy meal too. Wherever he is…”

He sat with his left hand supporting his head while his right lazily turned the stick.

“No one wants just a salad besides dirty hippies. In the interest of speeding things up I’ll skip the parts where I tell you that your eyes are my favorite part about you and that I liked The Notebook and you have a beautiful soul or whatever bullshit girls like to hear so guys can get in their pants.”

Ethan turned his head and looked at Feo as she warmed up her marshmallow. The golds and reds lit up her up in a sort of glow. Past her the firelight melted into the shadows.

“Saxaphone?” he said, genuinely impressed. “That’s…..actually really cool. But-“

He stopped himself. He was about to say “but I don’t think you’ll be playing again anytime soon.” Ethan had just enough tact to know not to remind the sax player that she was SOL on that job without the correct number of fingers.

“….but well, when I’m not running around avoiding getting blown up and carved up I fix stuff. I fix cars, I fix computers, I build stuff. I got accepted to the University of Michigan. For the electrical engineering program. So, my bomb skills are actually….well…bomb.”

It was a horrible pun, but he couldn’t help himself. He smirked at his own joke and pulled his marshmallows out of the fire.

Careful. Don’t like her. You can nail her but don’t like her. You’re screwed if you do. She’s gotta die. They all do. No other way out. If this bitch tries to play you, you've gotta know you can gut her like that kid on the video. No mercy.

“All we need now is for that fucker to come over the P.A. with some violin. He’s probably busy whacking off to road kill right now or something, so we’re just gonna have to provide our own ambiance.”

He blew on the end of the sweet and took a bite.
Edited by Ruggahissy, Nov 3 2010, 02:41 PM.
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Ruggahissy
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"Danya is a classy guy. Klassy with a 'k.'."

Ethan started eating his marshmallows more quickly now that they were cooling.

“Thanks. I am pretty smart,” he said, beaming. It was his greatest point of pride after all. He wasn’t super athletic nor was he artistic or especially charismatic, but he was smart. Enough that those things he didn’t have didn’t matter as much.

He smirked to himself when she moved to lean against him, but all the same a little shiver ran through out him where she made contact. It settled down into comforting warmth between the two of them. It was strangely affectionate for the situation, which made his smirk soften slightly into a plain smile.


“Girls I like…” he said, trying to think. He slid the remaining pieces of his marshmallow off of the stick and popped them into his mouth. “I like fun girls. I’m not a super serious guy, so if a girl can have fun then she’s cool by me. Also, they can’t be annoying, asking questions every five seconds, or screaming all the time or trying to drag me to chick flicks. Sometimes I’ll put up with that shit if the girl is super hot, but she’s gotta be a real piece to go through that, and even then, I wouldn’t stick around long if they grate on me too much. That being said, I like cute girls, obviously. I like driven girls. I like….girls that can play the sax…” he said, smiling again.

He set the stick aside and looked down at her to see what her reaction would be. Ethan wanted to push his glasses up, they were sliding down his nose a bit, but he didn’t want to move and disturb her position.
Edited by Ruggahissy, Nov 6 2010, 09:21 PM.
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Ruggahissy
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Quicker than he realized, Feo was now pretty much in his lap, both thighs on either side of him. She gently pushed his glasses back up his face and laid it down on the line.

“I don’t want to kill you, but it might happen when we get down to the wire. Neither of us is stupid and we both know this isn’t gonna end with the two of us looking back at this rock while we float away on the winner’s boat and hold hands, but I wasn’t lying. I do like you,” he said, surprising himself with the truth.

Ethan closed the gap to her and turned his head slightly to the right, fitting their lips together like puzzle pieces. For a second during the contact, all he could hear was the happy crackling of the small fire pit next to them. He pulled back slightly, separating them.

“Truce?” he asked sternly.
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Ruggahissy
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She’d agreed to a truce. How long it would last, Ethan couldn’t say. They hadn’t exactly ironed out the details, but now didn’t seem like a good time for negotiations. This time she initiated the kiss and he pushed back against her wholeheartedly. He drank her in hungrily and took hold of her shoulders, trying his best not to squeeze where he felt the texture of gauze. Holding her brought a rush of heat to his face and all of the sudden she was gone again. Now she was whispering, he swallowed. Ethan could feel her breath against his ear.

“I don’t like coffee,” he said in a hurried tone. “But for you I’d empty out a Starbucks and then lick the machines after.”

His mind was moving a mile a minute, thoughts zooming around like still photographs being thrown at him. Gradually though, they seemed to be fading away, replaced with just the girl in front of him. He slid his hands down from her shoulders to her torso, sliding until his fingers curled under the bottom of her shirt.

Okay. So today hasn't been all bad.
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Ruggahissy
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Ethan yanked off her shirt, reached around for the clasp of her bra and was about to finish his fumbling with the waist of her skirt.

Be a gentleman. She’s missing fingers, lend a hand.

He tried his best to accommodate her and rip off his shirt, but the process knocked his glasses off so that they dangled from one ear. He took a moment to replace them back to their normal position so that he could see.

Does it feel like the room is spinning? Wait…there is no room, we’re outside. I’m not good at….thinking right now.

She stopped and said something he didn’t understand. It didn’t matter what she said, but it did sound hot.

Survival of the fittest. Sure. That fucker wants to take away everything from us. Everything you ever knew. But he can’t take this from me. How much fun this is, how she tastes, she’s so pretty. It’s mine. So fuck that guy. Actually, I’ll fuck her instead. Feo…..it’s a weird name, but I like it. I like her. I really like her.

What little light there was painted her in an array of warm colors. The worry and tension he felt during the day were replaced with the touch of her skin and his pain mingled with longing. Underneath him the bruises from the explosion at the sawmill ached against his back, but he didn’t care. The sharpness of every feeling, good and bad, was a reminder that he had made it this far. A single shadow flickered and writhed against the trees until the fire burned through its fuel.
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Ruggahissy
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“There is a house in New Orleans they call The Rising Sun. It’s been the ruin of many a poor boy and God I know I’m one..” Ethan sang idly to himself while looking just past Feo as she cleaned her wounds.

He felt…good. Strangely enough he was relaxed in this place. He reclined against a tree with just his jeans and seemed to be in a sort of comfortable state where he didn’t want to move. Ethan only wanted to watch her.

Flawlessly designed

“I don’t think we’re quite a mile up. I’m sure there’s some sort of award for fucking during Survival of the Fittest, though. It’s funny, in the traditional sense this is what survival of the fittest is. It is staying alive long enough to procreate and pass on the genes you proved were worthy by making it that far. Well, if I know my tropes, someone should be leaping out of the bushes sometime soon to stab us both to death. It teaches the kids at home what happens when you sin it up on a mountain during a blood sport on television,” he said with a contented sigh.


He opened his eyes and saw her looking at him. She had a gentle quality in her eyes that he just noticed.

She’s beautiful, isn’t she? She- wait, what the fuck am I doing? Fuck! I’m a fucking idiot! I fell for it! What do you think, lover boy? You think she really cares about you? You think you and her are gonna take down the big bad Danya and live in little house and some scientist is gonna build her robot fingers and she’ll overcome her disabilities to play the sax again? DO YOU?

Ethan shook his head. He grabbed his shirt and his sharpened stick and walked to her. He was close enough that he could end her swiftly.

You have to do it. This has gone far enough. Do it. Think about how stone cold badass you'd have to be to nail a chick, then kill her with a stick.

His brain communicated the message “lift the stick” but his arm was dead like it was made of lead. Not even a twitch of movement.

I…..I can’t. Oh God damn it. God damn it to hell.

“I….think you did a terrific job with those bandages.” He gave her a kiss.

You can’t do it. My God, you are screwed. You two can’t outrun death forever. After all, you’ve got asthma.
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Ruggahissy
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Ethan sat down on the blanket next to her. It was an especially beautiful night. Normally you couldn’t see the sky so clearly because of the light pollution from the city, but here everything was clear.

“My last name? My name’s Ethan Kent,” he said. It felt odd to say one’s own full name. It was like he was at school being asked something official. “It’s a pretty boring name. There are plenty of Kents around.”

He put an arm around her and looked up. Mixed in his fuzzy happy feeling was dread that was starting to weigh down on him like an anvil. Before all he had to worry about was himself.

“Feo Eleri Terrível,” he repeated, butchering the name with an American accent. “I think it sounds nice. I’d never know what it means, but it sounds cool. Bet there aren’t many of those. You’re probably the only one.”

Hu, this place will kill the only Feo Eleri.

“The sun’s going to be up soon. We should get some rest.”

((Ethan Kent continued in The House of the Rising Sun ))
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