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The Man Your Man Could Smell Like
Topic Started: Mar 7 2011, 01:30 AM (6,191 Views)
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Jimmy Brennan and Rosa Fiametta continue from Doesn't Matter, I had Sex))

Jimmy Brennan stumbled through the woods, panting and spitting blood and saliva. He was soaked, drenched and stinking of blood and sweat, his scrawny frame bloated and covered with bruises and scabs. He'd left his hoodie back at the Gazeebo, not like he'd need it. It was ruined beyond repair, and the Island had grown far too hot for a hoodie anyway. He was practically burning up as he staggered through the forest, clutching his prized shotgun in one hand, his half empty bag in the other. Rosa was somewhere behind him, close enough encase any danger came about. She wasn't talking that much, for some odd reason.

Heh. Girls. Never understand girls. They're all crazy. Girls. Fuckin' nuts. Doesn't stop me.

Jimmy tried to grin, but found himself physically unable. His face looked like a battlefield, bruise upon bruise, his nose broken and purple, cracked just far enough to the left to indicate a fracture. Dried blood coated his lips and mouth, running down toward his chin. It was far too painful to grin, so instead Jimmy kept his face slack, his mouth slightly agape, the only position he was really comfortable with. Any grin he could make was badly mangled at this point, resembling more of a Clint Eastwood Style cringe then anything positive.

Clint Eastwood. Man with No Name, coming into town, wreckin' shit, taking names. Heh. 'The Good'. I like that. Need Revolvers. Revolvers would be badass...

He spat on the ground, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. As much as he hated to admit it, ever since his encounter with J.J he was resting more often. The boy had beaten him bloody, thrown him into a fucking pole. He was still standing, but his body and mind were screaming for a rest. He pushed it to the back of his conscious, gasping for air, waiting for Rosa to catch up.

He couldn't afford to over think things. He knew who he was.

I ran towards Claire, because... I knew she couldn't hit me. She's a girl, weak, she couldn't have, not after she saw what I did to J.J no, no... I knew it. That's it. I KNEW she'd miss, beforehand. I had no fear, no fear, because nothing can kill me, 'specially not some dumb bitch blindly following J.J Sturn... Ha! That'd be hilarious. Me. Dead. Ha! No, not going to happen, not going to fucking happen. Impossible to happen, still so much to do, karma, it's all karma. Forget about it, you're Jimmy Fucking Brennan. That doesn't concern you. Morality, fuckin', fuckin' anything, it's all beneath you, beneath me...

Sucking in one last giant gulp of air, Jimmy started walking again, faster then before, despite the pain running through him. As painful as it was, he mentally forced himself to avoid hobbling, avoid slowing. It wasn't fitting of a man like him, to walk weakly. If his classmates were going to see him, they were going to see the real deal, the confidant stride of a man in control. It was all about first appearances. Jimmy heaved his shotgun up, breathlessly chuckling in joy as he examined the weapon. The end of the gun was slick with gore, what had once been J.J's brain matter.

First impressions.

"Come'on Rosa! Stick close, gotta'- gotta' stay together now..." He called back.

The woods were opening up ahead, and for the first time in game, Jimmy could see actual houses. Craning his neck to get a better view, he realized that they'd stumbled upon a residential area, houses and more. Jimmy wasn't dumb, he knew there would be no electricity, and little supplies. But the prospect of kicking his feet back, if just for a moment, was an alluring one. He turned back to Rosa, painfully attempting to smile.

"L-look. We got houses."

A thought crossed through his mind as he turned back towards the town. The Island was large, he'd been running around it for what... seven days? Less? More? And yet he had had no idea this place had even existed. But then again, his class number over two hundred. Houses meant civilization. Houses meant cover, and a warm place to sleep.

Houses meant people.

No... Enemies. So fucking be it. I'm always ready. Let's go. Let's go Jimmy. Let's fucking rock.

Jimmy raised his shotgun, trudging forth into the open, toward the houses. Being caught off guard could mean the end of him, and he wasn't ready for that anytime soon. If he was going to kick back and relax, he'd first have to post an eviction notice.

Fucking. Rock.
Edited by Little Boy, Apr 10 2011, 11:58 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
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
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Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Jimmy swaggered. He didn't really know the technical meaning of the word, but if he did, he would characterize his walk as just that. Swagger. Big steps, balls swinging from side to side as he marched shotgun in hand up towards the door, a maniacal grin stuck to his broken face. Doubt had vanished from his mind. Jimmy was a hero from myth, Ajax, able to slay a thousand man with just a thought. Courage, balls, bravado, moxie. Mere words couldn't describe him anymore. There had never been a man like him, not on Survival of the Fittest, not in the world. Danya had found a diamond in the rough, and now the bastards would pay.

Fucking. Rock.

Fucking. Rock.


Jimmy was standing mere feet from the door when the boy appeared. It took him a second to realize what had occurred, that he'd been so quickly proven right. Yes, there were enemies here. Conveniently located in the closest house. Jimmy took a deep breath, sucking all the air possible into his lungs, despite the renewed pain, shooting through his body.

Not pain. No, no, pain isn't pain, pain is good. Adrenaline. A can of Red Bull, right in my fucking veins- keepin' me edgy- fuckin' awake, ALIVE, YES, ALIVE!

Jimmy spread his legs apart, like a cowboy preparing for a showdown. With a grunt he raised his shotgun up, his other hand out, flexing it, preparing himself. He threw one last glance over his shoulder. Rosa stood behind him, not comprehending, not understanding what he was about to do. His swollen face did him no justice, but Jimmy smiled anyway, winking at the girl.

"Stand back baby." He said softly, slurring his words.

He turned back to the boy... Ray. Raymond was his name. He was swearing, looking at Jimmy like he was crazy. Jimmy hated him already. He hated everything. He had an itch, a primal urge building up from within him as he stared down the boy.

J.J had beaten him down, like a little baby. He'd cried, dishonored himself. JJ's bitch had escaped, worse, had tried to take him down.

No, the audience couldn't think that. Jimmy was invincible. He'd have to win again, to remind them.

Say something. Say something cool.

He couldn't raise the shotgun anymore. Jimmy brought it down, catching the forestock with his left hand. He staggered weakly, aiming the shotgun up to point at the boys chest.

"This is 'n eviction notice." He snarled, eying down Raymond.

"Move or bleed... Motherfucker."
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
Member Avatar
STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
(Just an added content warning, as Jimmy drops the N-bomb here.)

Well... It had gone better then expected. In all honesty, he'd expected a firefight. He'd expected Ray to refuse him; of course, then the only option would have been for him to start shooting, kill one of them, maybe two. His heart raced at the thought, and Jimmy felt uneasy, even with his gun raised up, in control of the situation. He didn't want to kill them, he wanted them to get out of his way.

There was a difference, somewhere in there, but for a split second he wasn't sure what he wanted. And more than anything else, he felt scared.

He shook his head as a girl appeared in the doorway, Isabel Guerra. He needed to get his thoughts straight. Psychopaths thought like that, not him. He wasn't a psychopath. Jimmy was the good guy, and he was simply looking for a safe place to stay. If they had refused him, they'd be enemies, and lightening the place up would have been the only reasonable course of action. But they'd agreed to get out, without a fuss.

Why am I thinking about this? I don't need to think about this.

The entire debate was making him angry. No, he wasn't going to kill them, and that was final. Heroes didn't walk around, killing people over nothing. So why had he even had to think about it? Why did he want them to go at him?

Jimmy gritted his teeth. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Get the fuck out. Get out of here, all of you, right now. This is our place now, and I swear to God I don't care-"

Damn, he was pissed off. He'd won, sure it was because the others had surrendered- Was that it? Was this all just some macho trip for him, to get over J.J? All for the cameras?

But- but heroes don't act like that. I shouldn't have to act like anything! I should- I- I don't need to do anything for anyone! I'm my own person, I shouldn't need to win to show them... I... I shouldn't fuckin'... Then why am I... Fuck! This is about me, not them! Fuck this! Fuck!

Jimmy felt his lip begin to tremble, as if he were about to cry from the realization. His shoulders sagged, it suddenly felt as if he were carrying hundreds of pounds of weight. It was all too much. He needed to rest, even if it meant never waking up. He couldn't keep thinking like this, it was driving him crazy.

"Out! Get out of here Ray, right fucking now!" He screamed. "All of you, get the fuck away from us!"

"An- and I swear to God, if you're not out of there in two minutes I'll blow your stupid nigger brains out!"
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
“FUCK YOU.”

Jimmy hadn’t been paying attention. There was noise at the side of the cabin, another kid interrupting the party, a potential threat. He raised his shotgun in the direction, fully prepared to kill, if only to distract himself from his thoughts. He hadn’t noticed Annaliese Hansen immediately. She was just another girl, not his concern. His concern was for him and him alone… Well, him and Rosa. There were bastards and not much else at Bayview, and Jimmy was sure she was another bitchy girl, who’d have squealed at any advances, at any attempt at communication with him.

He hadn’t been paying attention to Annaliese. But now, he most definitely was.

He wasn’t sure what it was. The fury, the stone cold anger maybe. It reminded him of that beach, so far away, covered in the blood of another… In any case, it cut through him like a knife. Jimmy snapped his head around as Annaliese appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock.
“What the fuck did you say to me?” He rasped, looking the girl up and down.

No one talked to him like that. He was Jimmy fucking Brennan. He was the only thing worth a damn at Bayview, and he no one was allowed to talk to him like that, not ever again. Phil had tried, and all it had gotten him was a dirt nap. Jimmy raised the shotgun up, pointing it at the girl’s chest.
But this was different, somehow this was different. He was shaking he realized, and the gun was raised not out of hate or anger, but fear.

Jimmy, what the fuck is wrong with you? Rock and fucking roll, blow her brains out! Teach her that no- I’m not scared of a girl, no see, I’m John fucking Wayne, I’m the fucking hero- I’m the winner… She can’t psyche me out, I haven’t done anything, no, no I’m not scared of a girl, I can prove it, because I don’t take shit-

“Do you know wh-“

She cut him off, exploding at him, wildly gesturing at his gun. Jimmy couldn’t help but jump back, his mouth open with astonishment.

“You disgusting degenerate piece of shit!”

No.

What was happening? What did he feel, deep in his gut? It wasn’t the same as Phil; it wasn’t the same as J.J. This was different. This was…

All I want is-

“You shut your goddamn fucking worthless crybaby mouth, you limp dicked motherfucker!”

Kill her- I’ve gotta- she- Gotta shut her up before- before what?

“How fucking DARE you!”

I haven’t done anything!

“You’re a big fucking man while you hold a gun, Jimmy."

“I – I” He stammered, his heart pounding in his chest. It was all wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen… HE was the good guy. He just wanted a place to stay, that was all. He hadn’t even shot anyone yet. Every word hit him harder than the last, and Jimmy began to panic. He could feel his face heating up, embarrassment. Rosa was watching all of this, as was the rest of the world, the great hero of Survival of the Fittest, getting trashed by a wimpy girl.

“I’m not lik-“ He murmured, but Annaliese didn’t let him finish.

"And you may look like the shit to anybody who doesn’t know you, but we all know you for what you really are, Jimmy. We know you!”

That, more than anything else, chilled his blood. Jimmy sputtered his eyes obscenely wide, his thoughts racing.

He had gotten it wrong. What the hell was he doing?

“I-“

He had tried his best, and J.J had still beaten him. He’d tossed him about like a rag doll, humiliated him, just like old times.

“I- We- I was just-“

There was always someone stronger, even now. And no amount of bravado would change it. J.J had beaten him with his fists, and now Annaliese had beaten him down with her words. Jimmy just couldn’t win. Back home, a million viewers were still laughing at him, because he was in the wrong.

He was wrong. He… had been wrong. How was that possible? God was on his side. He’d beaten Phil, because he had been right. He’d been rewarded for it, because he deserved it. He’d won the girl, defeated the jock- Where had he gone wrong?

And what were the consequences?

Tears fell down his face, and for the first time since the beach, Jimmy had no idea what to do. He looked at the girl in shock, trembling at her words. Everyone had heard her. He couldn’t block it out.

This isn’t possible. This- no, this isn’t real!

He raised the shotgun again, pointing it square at her chest.

“SHUT UP! IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!” He screamed in terror. “SHUT UP!”

Killing the girl wouldn’t make it stop. But it’d hold it back, for the time being.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
Member Avatar
STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Everything was going wrong. Wrong in the most sickeningly perfect way possible. His entire body hurt, but he hefted the gun away, advancing toward Annaliese. His thoughts were a blur, a jumbled mass of unsystematic memories and ideas, thoughts and moralities. Everything had been perfect, and they’d ruin it. He’d pick up the pieces, but first they would pay.

“FUCK YO-“

With a flash, the gun was flying from his hands and he was going with it, stumbling to the left as Ray stepped in his path. His eyes went wide- how did he get so fast? How did he get so slow? The gun hit the dirt but he was still spinning, tumbling back, his words replaced with a distressed yelp. He wanted to fall, but Ray wouldn’t let him. With a cry the other boys’ arms were wrapped around him, lifting him up like he was a twig. He struggled and squirmed but his vision was blurred, the world flashing before him. It was J.J all over again.

He was in the air now, and he was still screaming, an angry guttural sound, completely illegible. He wanted to cry again, and the very idea only served to frustrate him. He’d sworn never again. Never the victim, always the hero. That was who he was, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Things were moving too fast. He couldn’t concentrate, let alone think. He was in the air. He was tilting, the world turned upside down. For a split second, he thought he was dying. There was someone else screaming, along with him, laughing on the way to heaven or hell or God knows where.
“If you weren’t scared of me before, you little bitch, you should be now!”

No no no fuck no please this isn’t-

He couldn’t get free. As he began his descent, Jimmy locked on to Rosa, his girl, his prize. She’d been the first to see him for what he was, a man’s man, free and in control of his own destiny. A hero on an island filled with monsters, kids who didn’t understand pain or karma, or anything that mattered. She was his right hand man and he’d defend her until the end, together acting as a force of savage justice, taking on everyone, right to the end. She believed in Jimmy Brennan, the hero that Danya had unwittingly made.

He was the only one who mattered. He’d never quit, and he’d never die, because that’s just what heroes did. But if anyone else mattered in this world, Jimmy would have to say that it’d be Rosa Fiametta, the sexy Italian who’d confirmed that yes, yes he was the shit, and as a matter of fact, yes, he could win Survival of the Fittest.

And now? She wasn’t even looking at him.

Somewhere along the way, things had gone very wrong for Jimmy Brennan.

WHUMP.

Jimmy couldn’t scream any longer. His cry of terror was strangled in his throat, as soon as his neck connected with the ground. Instead, a choking “ulp” came out, and he spat saliva. Jimmy felt the pain jolt down his spine, shooting through him, digging in and taking hold. The world didn’t exist anymore. It was all colors and shapes, jagged lines and an endless stretch of fatigue. For a second he felt himself hanging in the air- and then he was gone, crumpled into a lifeless heap at the steps of the house.

Suplex
.
Jimmy struggled to remain conscious. He was coughing and sucking in air, unable to catch his breath. He couldn’t open his eyes and despite the pain running through him, Rosa and Annaliese had done far more damage then anything Ray could ever do. It was all different. He felt cold. If it was going to end anywhere, Jimmy was certain it would be here.

He’d been hit with a motherfucking Belly to Back Suplex.

Jimmy laid still, waves of pain raking through his battered form, his bruised chest rising and falling erratically, struggling to take in air. His mind was screaming at him, a billion obscenities on his lips, ready to go for Round 2. But he could only gurgle pathetically, his body finally giving in, refusing to move any more.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

Jimmy Brennan was down for the count.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
Member Avatar
STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Jimmy struggled to keep his eyes open. The world was fading out around him, and he was coughing like a motherfucker, spitting up everything inside himself. He wanted to puke, but there was simply nothing left for his stomach to reject. He could hear Ray over him, ranting, raving, voices, far off... He was out of the picture.

The second he was down, they'd forgotten he'd ever existed. He wasn't a concern anymore. He'd fought for his place and failed, and now he deserved nothing, not an ounce of pity. The thought was contagious, spreading like a horrific confidence destroying worm throughout his entire body. Rosa was disappointed in him. Everyone was- he'd fucked up worse then he'd ever imagined.

He'd fucked up, and now he would pay the consequences.

But the gunshot never came. People were moving, people were shouting. From the sound of it, someone had fainted, although Jimmy couldn't be sure who. He didn't know if it was Annaliese, or Rosa, or perhaps someone else. He didn't know if Annaliese fainting would be an improvement or not. He was just so sapped of strength, energy and general caring about fucking anything. Annaliese didn't matter anymore.

She didn't even- she didn't- she-

How was it fair? He'd tried so hard. He couldn't get up. His lungs felt like they were daggers in his side, every breath painful a chore in delivering. He couldn't win the game. The odds were stacked, and he'd been dealt a shit hand. It didn't matter what he did, because underneath it all, they'd still be thinking the same thing.

There goes Jimmy Brennan, that fucking douche-bag. That fucking pussy, the shrimp who was never worth anything.

He wanted it to end. He just wanted everything to go away. But it was never that simple. The darkness never took hold. He held it back, squinting up at the now sideways form of Rosa. Her expression was unreadable. He desperately wanted to talk, to say anything. To explain. Maybe even apologize, if it was worth anything.

Not that I'm worth anything. No. I'm not. I'm motherfuckin' not. I'm going to die and- and-

Rosa was leaving. She turned, bolting back to the tree line. She'd left him.

Wait

She'd left him to die.

"Rosa-"

The beautiful girl vanished into the tree-line, and moments later another girl, someone... someone very familiar... took off after her. He reached out his hand, watching it jitter and shake in front of him. He felt like a great weight was on his chest. The figures drifted away from him and he realized he was choking back tears, barely able to keep his composure.

He'd tried. He'd tried so hard. But he just wasn't worth it.

"Rosa!"

He shouted it again, louder this time, but equally distorted.

It wasn't fair. He was supposed to be a warrior, an incomprehensible folk hero, some sort of sick figure of justice, a hero, someone who mattered, someone who counted, someone universal, someone who could reach out, broadcast his message to every kid in America who'd ever felt that life was unfair. With a hacking cough he rolled over onto his side, shaking in rage.

"I'm Jimmy Brennan and I deserve everything."

It was that simple. He repeated it again, letting the idea grow in his mind. He murmured it once more, and it quickly devolved into an unintelligible chant, a mindless mantra with more emotion then reasoning. Rosa was gone. Ray was gone, his gun was gone, and one more he was at square one. He was alone... But the more he thought about it- the more it seemed alright. Square one was good. Square one meant a new start, a new path. Answers.

It didn't matter what they thought. He could be anything he wanted.

Jimmy surged up, his head spinning a thousand different ways. He gagged and spittle dripped down his chin. The pain was churning through him, but he'd accepted it- moved on to bigger things. He deserved everything. If no one else mattered besides him, the only one he was letting down was himself. No.

No, he'd die before he'd turn coward. His mind was made up.

And I won't die. I won't die- I can't die- no I won't die, I deserve everything- I got the Moxie- can't die- can't die if I have Moxie-

Jimmy giggled.

He wasn't going to die, because that was what they were counting on. It was time to rebuild. He scanned the nearby area- his gun lay off to the side, discarded. He giggled again, like a little boy in a candy store. With an awkward grunt he rolled over, and began crawling towards it. Ray would be damned before he'd ever stop him. He was indestructible, anything he wanted to be. And right now, Jimmy felt like being God. It was time to rebuild his world. The gun was close and he reached out through his fatigue, clutching it desperately. He sank back down in the grass, exhausted- but happy. Grinning like a mindless fool.

"I get it- I get it Rosa, - I-"

He needed to find her. Apologize, talk, anything. He needed to find out why- the future would come, but he would be ready for it.

Never stop, never die.

Over the course of the next ten minutes he propped himself up against the house wall, awkwardly shimming his way to his feet, careful to avoid any risky moves. It would be a long hard journey, but he would never back down. He would keep going, and his killer would have to drain him of every last drop of blood before he'd submit. He'd fallen hard, but in his battered mind it was just another test.

And Jimmy Brennan was determined to pass with flying colors.

((Jimmy Brennan continues in Monsters))

Edited by Little Boy, May 31 2011, 02:20 PM.
V5
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey


NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
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