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Birdland; Day 5, Late Evening/Early Morning [TOPIC CLOSED]
Topic Started: Jan 21 2011, 01:02 AM (3,359 Views)
Brackie
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i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Brendan Wallace continues from That's a bout. Salute. Shake hands.))

After hours of aimless wandering, he finally collapsed out of exhaustion, butt-first, into the nearest sand bunker. Really, it wasn't just exhaustion. It was stress. A lot of stress. On all sides, he was surrounded by death.

Somewhere near the trees, right where he stopped, were two dead bodies. At the bottom of that little hill, only a few paces away, was another one. One was covered in blood and bullet wounds, another was lying face down on the ground, and another, some black guy, staring face-up at the sky...but he didn't go anywhere near them. It wasn't out of fear, or disgust, but rather...he just didn't want to care.

That was the scariest thing he'd encountered in his time on the island. That little clasp on humanity which he'd promised himself he'd retain. Care. The senior class of Bayview Secondary school was being shredded apart by their own guilt, suspicions, and insanity, and he'd promised himself he'd stay human, stay caring, just because he knew that sooner or later it would stop. He'd care about every little person he'd encountered, every dead body, he'd at least thought something if he knew them. But he'd hit that point where he'd stopped recognising them as people and turned it into a recognition of the dead.

Brendan didn't know whether or not he was still as human as he was when he got on that bus a few days ago.

He could count it off. Chris, Charlotte, Jaclyn, someone unrecognisable, Petrushka, Rose, Carol (who wouldn't recognise Carol?), and two other people bodies. He was scared of getting close to them, because he didn't want to feel the pain and loss of possibly coming face-to-decomposing-face with someone he could have shared a class with. He didn't want to feel all this pain, this loss, this...uncaring.

...is this how all those killers felt? The moment they saw the people they knew and possibly loved as...things, rather than friends and people, did they also catch ahold of this uncaring?

Brendan clenched his eyes shut. He just wanted more than anything else to...just to say sorry to the people he knew he couldn't save. Chris, Dawne, Jonathan, Charlotte...he'd failed them. He never even said anything to them, not one word, and...now it wasn't possible.

And now, here he was. Thinking. Just thinking about everything, everyone he made promises to, everyone he couldn't see, never got to see, and never will get to see.

He pulled his knees to his chest, and shuffled to the "wall" of the bunker. His bag, with all his worldly possessions, clenched tightly under his legs. The moon looked like it was dipping away for the night, or at least retreating behind some trees while the island really slept.

He looked around, watching the receding moonlight as the grassy hills turned from the battlefield of dreams...to a dimly illuminated graveyard.

And he shut his eyes again, nestling his head from the world into the depth of his pant legs, his breath the only noise to break the silence.

This wasn't a good idea. I'm never going to be able to find them again...
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Brackie
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i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
In the murky blackness of Brendan's world, he could hear little scratches of noise. Nothing interesting. Nothing /notable/ at least.

Speaking. Voices. Voice, not voices.

It was night, and he was tired, he didn't want to speak to anyone. He just wanted to tell himself what a stupid thing he'd done, been doing, whatever, and loath himself over his stupid stupid decisions over and over and over again until he got tired of it. Cause that's what you do when you want to save everyone and you can't, you mope. Brendan moped.

He tried pulling his legs in closer, but they wouldn't move without warping his bag into impossible positions. His arms grabbed each other and yanked. If he could just pull himself out of this world and into a new one...

...or he could just harden the fuck up and go out there. He wasn't just some cannon fodder here. If he'd survived this long, then he had to have something looking out for him.

Brendan opened his eyes, the world retaining that little shade of blue it always did after a while of closed eyes but awakened senses. Few blinks, then it was gone. He turned his legs cross-legged, and yanked the bag out from under them, plopping it straight into the tangled mess of lap.

He reached around, feeling for the tab of the zipper. It was still dark, even with the pale waning moon, so any chance of a good view tonight were abysmally low. Finally, he grabbed ahold. The bag came open pretty quietly, not as loud as he'd expect a zipper to be, not that he was taking measurements or anything.

The flashlight was sitting prominently on the top of the mess, somehow have become mixed up like he was running a cocktail bar here. More fumbling, and he had some light. Brendan didn't know how much light was being used here, but he had a focus he couldn't break from.

The gun was pushed into the corner of the bag, and the ammo was stuck beside it. He pulled it out, sat it snugly in his left hand while he looked it over with the flashlight.

Okay, so far it didn't look that ba-

His musings were cut short by a few factors. One of the was his inability to notice the mosquito that buzzed through the air and landed on his "trigger finger" as it was. The other was his unawareness of said mosquito biting him. Another was him not being able to control the sudden reflexive constraint his finger forced him to do, which happened to clench down on the trigger, and...the ringing was still going strong in his ears, like they'd had bells shoved into them and it was the 12 o'clock feeding frenzy. He watched the casing fly into the sand, and his flashlight drop in almost the same place, while he was unable to stop himself from letting out...some sort of sound.

"A...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooowwwwwwww"

He didn't know what else to do. Never in his life had he been so close to a gun being fired, and he knew that it was probably gonna be his last time, too.

I probably...should have found the safety first...aaaaoooowww...
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Brackie
Member Avatar
i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"-aaaaah. Aaaaaaahahahaaaaaowww."

Brendan's ears were still ringing. Funny that. When you think someone with a gun, you think someone who knows what they're doing, not someone who's more than likely to shoot their best friend in the face because they don't know how sensitive that old trigger/finger is.

Eventually, it died down.

Fuuuuuuuuucking hell I'm not doing that again.

He sighed, shaking his head in one of those little vain attempts to rid himself of all the remaining ringing. Wouldn't have worked, either way, but it was just...something to do, really.

The flashlight on the ground was now probably telling everyone where he was. Not that he minded company at the moment (he still had some redecorating to do on his new house, so maybe guests weren't the greatest idea), but that flashlight was probably attracting the wrong kind of attention.

Well, it's better safe than sorry.

Still sitting against the bunker wall, he reached out to grab it off the sand with his left hand, where a few moths already decided to skirt around the rim-

crack

The moths flew away, the rock bounded after them like a lost puppy, and Brendan's had was clenched on the front of his shirt. What he couldn't even try to clench, however, was the unplanned yell from his lips.

"AAAH! FUCK! FUCK!" Brendan yelled out into the night.

YOU TARD.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Brackie
Member Avatar
i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Who the fuck was that? Who threw that rock at him? He sat there, rocking back and forth while he wrapped his hand in his shirt. Someone thought he must of wanted to kill them, and...well, it looked really incriminating. He had his flashlight on, and there was a gunshot from the other aforementioned darkness. Really, *Incriminating* didn't even begin to describe it. He had no idea what they were thinking, but if they were trying to knock him out with a rock, it couldn't have been an innocent thought rushing through their mind.

Still, the fact remained that a rock from nowhere just tried to kill him. That must have meant that whoever out there...

"Oh my God!"

There it was. Someone out there wasn't keeping their mouth shut. It had to be whoever threw that rock at him, so now it was just a matter of keeping quiet and...well, if he turned off that flashlight, then whoever just tried to kill him wouldn't know where he was.

...wait, try to kill me?

I'm jumping to all the wrong conclusions.

I just shot out into the dark, and then they tried throwing a rock at whoever they thought, for all intents and purposes, was trying to kill them. I'm an idiot, why the hell would I just think someone was going out for me?

I am a big idiot, really.


His self-hating musings were interrupted by a voice to his side, someone was there, someone who knew him. At least they knew his name, but that wasn't the same as knowing him, really.

Okay...

....Jojo?

Brendan looked over to his left, where he saw the guy, squatting down in the sand next to him. The whisperer. He wasn't the guy who chucked that rock at him, that much was for sure. Even though he knew Jojo wouldn't be the sort to hurt him, he still grabbed both his gun and his flashlight and brought them close.

"Jojo? I...hey," Brendan muttered quietly.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Brackie
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i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
As little of Jojo as Brendan knew, it was safe to say that he knew he would be safe around him. They shared a class, that had to mean something, right? It wasn't like everyone who knew him at least by name would...you know, start with Brendan? Cause, well, they knew each other, so...

...yeah.

So, first thing was first; Jay Holland?...ah, he remembered that guy. Stoner, right? Madelyn was probably the only person he knew from that kinda crowd, and even then that didn't change the basic fact that he had no idea where anyone was.

"I...haven't, uh, seen Jay, uh, no..." Brendan muttered. He'd gone back to holding his throbbing hand. Fucking rock thrower, whoever it was...

What? His hand? First aid? Knowing his luck it would probably involve stitches again, so...maybe not.

Jojo was rapid-firing off questions so fast he hardly had time to respond, so when he finally stopped, Brendan cleared his throat and started to speak a little on his own.

"I, uh, don't really know. I...I was just sitting here, and I haven't seen anyone, I haven't seen anyone or looked or anything, so...I don't know."

He looked away from Jojo and his massive sledgehammer, back at the darkness to his left, where said person was probably waiting. It sounded like they'd taken a tumble or something.

...I think I'm going to regret this, but...

He lifted his torch up to the darkness, and shone it through.

"...Hello? Who's, uh, out there?"
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Brackie
Member Avatar
i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Uh... it's me, Saul. I'm unarmed, don't hurt me or anything,"

Saul, Saul, Saul, Saul, Saul, I know that name...Ah, right, Saul, he's the guy in the school mascot costume, isn't he?

Brendan had to do that little cliche "slightly tilt your head to the side to indicate you have no idea what someone's talking about" thing at his other inquiry. Eight ball, huh? He looked down at the ground and ran the tip of his tongue around the outside of his molar teeth, back forward, forward back. What to do...

Well, no time to think, Jojo was looking for an answer.

"Uh..."

Brendan nodded. Sure. No harm in this, he was friendly.

"Yeah, what he said, you, uh, can get your thing and...and..." Brendan tried to say, before stumbling again at the last sentence. Once he got his ball, then what? He'd leave. Was that a good thing? Not sure. If he left, chances were that would be it for them, last time they'd ever speak. Good luck, so long, thanks for the memories. Still, he knew he'd taken that risk every time he bailed from the groups he accumulated. They had to be okay, they weren't on the announcements yet...

"...if you want, uh, you could s-stick around, I guess."

He moved the light slightly away from Saul on the green, and put it back down on the sand, illuminating the small bunker. A welcome place for the night, no?

Still, Brendan just wasn't gonna turn into a hospitable host for the time being. The light shone upon the eight ball in the sand, and Brendan left the light there until Saul got his so-called weapon back. Even then, he just curled his legs up to his stomach again, bag and gun clenched under his legs, and half-buried his face in his knees.

Avoid their eyes.

Don't let them look at how much you just wish it could all be over now.

Just avoid their eyes.
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Brackie
Member Avatar
i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Uh...Sapphire? I...I think I might have seen her today. It was just before I headed off to find some stuff on my own, when she showed up. I think these two girls I was travelling with were her friends, cause they knew her, and..."

Brendan's voice trailed off slightly there, and he averted his gaze to his knees. Everything he just said was opening up a whole shebang of questions, and it was best to cut off the possible damage when he could. Reduce the risk of reliance, they shouldn't have to count on you, too many people are doing that already, just for your safety.

*

Saul decided to stay around, and the three of them decided to hand around for safety. The numbers decreased their chances of getting caught unawares. However, it just turned into the same thing as before. Brendan sat alone, all by himself, while someone else did the dirty work. When Jojo asked, he mumbled something, he wasn't quite sure what, about his leg and wellbeing.

What really should have set the two of them off right there was his unwillingness to help. For starters, both of them, and everyone in a mile radius, knew they had a gun, knew HE had a gun. What the three of them had between them accumulated into a hierarchy of pathetic. Gun, then a sledgehammer, then an 8-ball. A sledgehammer was a crap weapon, and as Brendan sat huddled into himself against the bunker wall, he knew he should have just at least offered to help, even if he wasn't going to be of any use.

Did he even really care about these guys? Or at least, did it look like he cared? Cause he wanted to. He wanted to be worried about their troubles, their concerns, their well-being, but...he didn't know. Brendan knew even thinking something like that was bound to get you heaps of dirty looks, and now here he was just wishing that he would come to care about them overnight. He needed it. It reminded him of the most important thing in the world.

*

Come morning, he wasn't feeling any better. Through a guise of sleeping, resting, and "not feeling well", he'd stayed to the lonesome all night and just tried to think about how he was going to make it back to his group. It was the morning, and the announcements would be on any minute. By the time Danya's voice reached across the island, they'd know it would be time to leave. Go over to the town, that's what he suggested and said they should do.

Oh, and to make the whole thing better? Nik had kicked it. The same Nik who he'd been helping out in the band for the last few months, the same one who could play guitar like nobody's business, and the same Nik who he'd only just feared for his state of mind only, what, 2 days ago now? Dead. His brother killed him, apparently.

Fuck, Nik...

So that meant...Jamie was left. He knew Laverne and Joe weren't on the trip. Wasn't sure why, but they weren't on the buses. As harsh as it sounded, Laverne was a figure that really stood out in a crowd. Joseph he knew from a distance now, so...he just had to find Jamie.

He doubted whether she'd even remember him. They weren't even that close. He only adjusted the sound and lighting for them numerous times, and their friendly exchanges and such were the extent of their brief conversations.

But it's not like he could actually catch a break with that, huh?

Oh, and to top it all off, guess what was declared a danger zone, a no-go? The town.

Once Danya drawled off the area, Brendan instinctively gulped. This was what happened when you had no back-up plan.

"Great..." Brendan mumbled, speaking for the first time in hours. He hadn't said a word, even while Saul and Jojo shared their stories. But now, he needed to get that incy wincy little bit of frustration off his chest.

So...now what?

He lifted his head from the confines of his legs, and looked to his companions for guidance.

"So...I suppose, uh, we should go. Staying around the same area for too long is kinda...iffy. So, um...I'm heading back up north, and if either of you wanna come...we stick together, I suppose.

The bag was drawn out from under the vice and loaded onto his shoulder. Brendan's legs felt the brief rush of air, of cold, and pins and needles, that came with a slight change in muscle condition over a night spent contorted entirely too wrong. HIs hands reached up to the edge of the bank on the green, and pulled the tall boy up. As if the feeling of needled legs couldn't get any worse, it reached the stitchings in his leg and then burnt for a few fleeting seconds like flint-wood held to a furnace. He bit his lip. The pain subsided, still rattling. At least Brendan could walk again.

"I'm, um...ready, yeah, I guess. Let's go then."

((Brendan Wallace continues in The Beggar King))
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
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