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I Am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rejection; Open- revolutionaries wanted. [Day 7]
Topic Started: Mar 26 2011, 11:01 PM (1,858 Views)
Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
[[Garrett Hunter continued from The Gully]]

"FUCK."

Garrett was not a happy camper, and given the opportunity he'd be very happy to enumerate the reasons why. Not that he had the opportunity, or at least, not that he had anyone around that he was gonna put the effort in to talk to.

Reason number one: he'd just walked for god knows how many fucking hours with a- remember? -a bum fucking leg. Bum as in bullet-wounded. He was beginning to remember his injury as something worse than it was, like there was still a piece of goddamn lead buried in his calf, which was of course bullshit and patently untrue. But shit, it hurt bad enough to be that bad, for sure, and you know what was really not even a little bit awesome? Hustling through a tunnel- which, remember, is creepy as shit- with the aforementioned bum fucking leg, rushing away from what could have been the greatest (and admittedly last) moment of his life, and rushing away from horrible and inevitable death.

Awesome.

Reason number two: Mirabelle Nesa was not with him, and what, three days ago? that would have been something to celebrate, because fuck Mirabelle Nesa and her fucking face. But look, shit changes, and now he was here with some amnesiac bullshit that was actually upset, legitimately upset that she wasn't here. He really still could not remember, but that was kind of irrelevant because Mirabelle was gonna die anyway, stuck down in those goddamn tunnels with Liz Polanski, going out in a blaze of glory or whatever. Not fair. She hadn't wanted to come with him and he felt weirdly rejected. Had the girl really rather died than come with him? Or she was just thinking differently, she thought dying down there was the right thing to do- I am Jack's misplaced sense of honor- or maybe she actually liked Liz? Either way he was stuck here, with this goddamn little pr-

Okay, wait, hold that thought.

Reason number three: The revolution had been televised, and now the revolution was probably, literally, dead. The announcement hadn't played quite yet- as he finally got his crippled ass out of that tunnel, swearing loudly that he wouldn't spend another moment of the short remnants of his life underground, there was the slightest glow on the horizon that indicated that sunrise was almost but not quite here. Once the sun was up, he was positive he'd hear their names- Liz, Mirabelle, maybe Brendan if that kid had been stupid enough to hang around. Either way, the revolution, the one he'd been so hype on joining, the leader was gonna die if she wasn't dead already. The one person he was counting on joining him? Her too. Yeah, this was his revolution now, that was kind of cool, but he couldn't do it alone, he didn't even know what the fuck he was doing.

Well. He wasn't alone. That would be reason number four.

He was here, on a goddamn mountain, trying to restart the grand rebellion scheme with Jeremy. Fucking. Franco.

Jeremy GODDAMN SHUT THE FUCK UP JESUS FUCKING CHRIST Franco.

That one. That little twat. That fucking loser. Had run right after him in those godforsaken tunnels, probably figuring the terrorists were gonna blow his shit next, not that they'd bother. Garrett figured they'd picked him first cause they knew he wasn't gonna run away unless he absolutely had to, and damn if getting your head blown off wasn't a good reason to do anything. They'd probably figured the pussy'd up and split at the slightest hint of danger and look what he'd done? Up and split at the slightest fucking hint of danger. Fucking Jeremy Franco. Jesus take the fucking wheel.

The kid could've left, too, could've easily outran him, gone somewhere else, that would have been so, so much better. Garrett Hunter was pretty used to being on his own, he was less used to traveling around with an obnoxious boy who was testing the limits of this not-killing thing he'd decided on. Not that he could really do that, his only weapon was this fucking net gun that'd be helpful exactly never, and Jeremy had his fucking...cane. Yeah, whatever, at this rate Garrett was gonna have to beat him to death with a water bottle, or just curbstomp him, American History X style-

Whatever. Franco pissed him off, but he wasn't gonna kill him. That wasn't his style. Instead he ignored him completely as he looked around the darkened landscape of this bloody rock he'd wound up on. Bloody wasn't a curse, either- it was a perfectly valid description, given that, equipped with his flashlight, he immediately spotted more than one corpse. Gross as fuck. He'd had surprisingly little contact with the dead during the last week, and he had no urge to get anywhere near them now. He put a bit of distance between himself and the cave, giving a wide berth to the corpses he saw.

And then he stopped, rather suddenly, addressing the irritating thing that was following him around.

"Franco. You stick with me, you gotta be ready to be part of shit, hear me? Keep the revolution alive. If you can't keep up, get the fuck out, because I don't want to deal with your bullshit."
Edited by Hollyquin, Mar 26 2011, 11:05 PM.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Helloooo there."

Oh jesus. There was a voice. Garrett hated voices, because they meant some other stupid fuck he wanted nothing to do with was popping out of the goddamn woodwork, and fuck if he didn't have enough to deal with what with this Jeremy Goddamn Franco thing he had going on right now. The fact that the voice belonged to a girl immediately eliminated the possibility that it was someone he liked, cared about or felt like talking to, given that the only girl he'd ever liked for even a little while was now most likely a broken corpse somewhere deep underground. Hell, he'd find out soon enough.

He'd been waiting for Franco's response (hopefully him running off and leaving me alone) when this girl, some fatass dreadlocked bitch whose cheeriness was pissing him off more than anything could, went ahead and walked right up to them, dropping her bag like she was planning on staying. Which was not okay. There was planning to be done here. There was a revolution to revive, dammit! Even if it was just him and fucking Jeremy Franco, that was something. Least Franco had proven himself sort of useful. He'd been part of the whole plan, anyway, the one that'd gone to hell. That made him...something. That was the only reason he didn't kick the kid's ass. He was a pussy, sure, but there was something there.

No way this girl had anything. Took him about five seconds to- okay, no, she had something, judging by the blood stains and the fucking axe (a fucking AXE! what the FUCK!). That something just happened to be batshit insane.

"Don't, like, shoot me or anything. I swear I'm not gunna hurt ya."

Yeah, I'm totally gonna shoot her, with what fucking g- oh. Right.

Easy to forget the fucking thing, still sitting in his hand, by his side. The net gun. A completely bullshit weapon, especially against a girl with an axe. Not that he wanted to shoot her, or kill her, he wasn't playing that game, but if he had an actual gun maybe he could wave in threateningly in her direction until she went away. The net gun looked more like an obnoxious flashlight than anything else, not exactly dangerous looking, so he was kind of out of luck there. He'd have to go with his default method of chasing people away- being an asshole. This being one of Garrett's greatest and most practiced talents.

"Yo. I don't know who the fuck you are, and I'm not gonna shoot you, but y-"

BZZZZZZZZZZT

Oh hell.


"Hey kids, it's Uncle Danya!"

Sick interruption. Totally ruining his moment or whatever. He fell silent to listen, though, as he had a special interest in the announcements right now. Apparently they'd survived, or nearly survived, to the halfway point- that was pretty cool, actually, though it reminded him for about the thousandth time how many fucking kids had to die to get here. He didn't like probably 99% of them, but that didn't mean they deserved to be fucking killed. No one would be surprised to know that he was thinking, yet again, that this game was utter bullshit. Which was why he was here with Jeremy Franco and Mirabelle and Liz were dead and way more than six feet under.

Or not, apparently. Their names didn't come up in the announcements, which took him by surprise- had they gotten away? Nah, that was impossible, the only ways out of the tunnel as far as he knew were here and back out the terrorist-death-squad-filled entrance. Maybe there were other exits, maybe they'd gotten away...or maybe, more likely, they were dead. They were dead and for some reason Danya wasn't announcing it. Maybe he just didn't want people knowing about the death squad, maybe they were gonna go hunting other students...maybe him and Franco and Brendan if he'd gotten away. Or maybe they weren't dead, maybe they were still scurrying around in the tunnels, still being chased...

He'd completely forgotten what he was saying to this new girl- who was he to give a fuck really- so he spared her a quick look and a "hold up" and instead turned to Jeremy, raising an eyebrow.

"What d'you think? They still alive?"
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Fuck this.

Seriously, Garrett was this fucking close to throwing in the nonexistent towel, nonexistent given that there was no real way to quit. Other than offing himself, and that was for pussies. But this was too much for him to take- Jeremy Franco, the smug fuck, having the balls to ignore him and act like he was in control, like the situation was under control, which, okay, bullshit. Nothing was under control, and whatever little stability they had now was definitely not by Franco's hand. Franco had done shit-all. Garrett was in charge here, because Garrett could never be part of something he wasn't in control of.

Other than...this. That. What happened. But I didn't want to punch everyone in the face then, so...it's different.

And then there was this girl, who was probably in shock, or batshit, or just really fucking annoying, he didn't really care which it was since it all added up to the latter. God, did she shut up? Ever? No? She went on and on and Garrett let himself not pay attention to what she was saying, at all, because he was still distracted by this announcement thing, this Liz and Mirabelle not being dead maybe thing. Also by this Jeremy Franco needing a brick between the eyes thing. "We've just gotten into a bit of trouble with some very dangerous people"? Yeah, okay. A bit of trouble. That's all. No terrorist death squad or anything. And "Garrett and I... I mean, if you need any help, I'm sure we can oblige-"

Speak for yourself.

But still. This girl was a person. A fairly well-armed person who didn't want to kill him. That was...something. If he could justify keeping Franco around, it probably made sense not to chase this girl off. Another warm body between him and no. You don't think like that, this isn't a...a fuckin'...I'm not like him. I'm not Danya. I'm not supposed to let anyone die, not even crazy girls. Okay, so she annoyed the fuck out of him, and okay, so a week ago he would've chased her off, no hesitation, but he was different now. He needed people. Not to protect himself, to get this thing, this revolution underway.

Fiona Sparki was no Mirabelle Nesa, but she'd have to do.

As long as she'd knock it off with the fucking nicknames.

"Here's the deal," Garrett started, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "We're...I don't know if we're still being pursued, but we were. At the other end of the tunnels, yeah? We were..."

He considered for a moment whether to mention Liz. Decided against it. Her name would probably anger more than a few people on this island. What if this girl'd been friends with one of the kids who got popped because of her?

"...with a few others, and there was this plan to break some shit in the tunnels. get it? To fuck with their...uh..." He couldn't for the life of him remember exactly what it was Liz had meant to do in the tunnels. Had to be important. But Garrett was never good with technical details. "...fuck with their shit. And then suddenly there were Danya's men on our asses with big guns. They gave me thirty seconds to run or they'd pop my collar. So...I ran."

He grimaced. Wondering how little Belle must think of him. Funny how he cared.

"Franco followed me out. I don't know where the others went- I figured they must be dead, but none of their names came up on the announcements...maybe they're somewhere else, maybe they're still being pursued. Maybe we are. Who knows? Point is, we're basically wanted men. What we get for trying to start shit."

Here it came. The Tyler Durden, first-rule-of-Fight-Club-is, leader of men voice. Garrett was very good at it. He'd had years.

"We're going to fuck Danya over, big time. We can do that much. We can get people on our side, get everyone to say a big fuck-you to the boss man, and we can take over this island. We can get people home safe, and we can end this fucking game. It's gonna be dangerous, yeah, but it'll be worth it, and...shit, if you're willing to stick with us, you can. But you've gotta be part of this. For real. Or else..."

He felt like he was repeating himself, somehow.

"...if you can't keep up, get the fuck out."
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Hollyquin
Member Avatar
A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Why did Jeremy Franco have to exist? Serious question. If Jeremy Franco didn't exist, Garrett wouldn't be seriously considering giving up this whole save-everyone bit and just shooting this boy in the face with his invisible gun instead. Except if Jeremy Franco didn't exist, he'd be alone with this Fiona girl, and she wasn't exactly the best thing for his nerves right now either. So maybe it was just that people got on his nerves- yeah, that was probably it, it was probably him. But seriously, “I was totally gonna pick bad cop if I could've”? Really, Franco? It couldn't just be him that wanted to punch him in the face for that. Hell, the viewers at home were probably picking off the sleazy douchebag stench that rolled off the kids in waves. Nice to know someone was on his side, at least, not that Garrett could exactly count on their help. No, he was gonna have to deal with the situation at hand.

Particularly since he didn't actually have an invisible gun.

Fiona, though, was pissing him off less as she talked more. Sure she was way too fucking happy, no one should be that happy on Survival of the Fittest or, really, in general. But, look, she was playing along with this rebellion thing, and she wasn't freaking out, and she said she was going to help, and she had a ridiculously large axe. Lots of points in her favor. She wasn't Jeremy Franco, that was like twenty points right there. After he did his usual thing where he pretended Jeremy wasn't talking, he listened to her speak, and

"I...should we really be talking about it out loud like this? That Danya-dude can probably hear everything we're saying, right...?"

Right. Okay. He was an idiot.

Those were the kind of things he needed Mirabelle and, okay, maybe Liz around for. For making plans that made sense. Garrett Hunter was good at springing into action, he wasn't good at thinking shit through, but, really, did it matter now? They were already on the terrorist death squad wishlist, not like they could do anything e- oh wait, that only happened because Liz shut her collar down. Danya could just go ahead and pop them off at any moment, which was a real nice thought, Garrett really loved knowing that he could die at any goddamn moment, oh wait, that was this whole game.

"I just- if we're going to, um, fuck certain people over, perhaps we should be a little cautious about it? We don't want to be too reckless, you know? Organization is key!"

"Good point," Garrett said, raising an eyebrow unconsciously, as though an automatic reaction of disbelief that this girl could have made a good point. "Judging by the fact we're not all dead, either Danya and them aren't listening right now, or they don't think we're a big enough threat to bother getting rid of yet. Which is good for us. But if either of you have a notebook, and a pen, that would be really good. Passing notes and shit." He ignored the obvious fact that if Danya was listening, he would have heard that. Wasn't much else he could do. It was better than continually talking out loud, yeah?

"Now...I don't know where to go, honestly. I don't have a plan. I say we go forward and see what we can do...forward and away from here. Too many bodies here. Everything smells like shit."

He beckoned them forward as he walked. Out into nowhere. Just, away from here. And please, please away from these fucking tunnels. Never again.

[[Garrett Hunter continued in A Slight Change of Plans]]
Edited by Hollyquin, May 19 2011, 10:31 PM.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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