Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Let the games begin!

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
... Because I Can't Make It On My Own; Start of Day 8 - OPEN
Topic Started: Apr 14 2011, 01:17 AM (4,534 Views)
laZardo
Member Avatar
^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Cisco Vasquez continued from Aching Chest and Blurry Sight))

Hungry, check.

Tired, check.

Probably infected with something, check.

Paranoid, double check. Or was that uncheck. Justified paranoia was about as much an oxymoron as a pair of words could get.

"Then, Joe Rios exploded onto the charts, using a scythe to rip and reap Mike Maszer and Alan Rickhall."

There was absolutely nothing in Mister Danya's typically blunt wording of his daily announcements of who died at whose hand that did anything at all for a former second-string goalie that feared being reaped by the visual manifestation of the Grim Reaper. That such a manifestation actually got rid of his once-arch-nemesis quite violently only meant that he could now focus his attention solely on evading Death for as long as his body would carry, as compared to having to worry about more than one entity or manifestation after his immortal soul.

It had especially gotten to the point where this traditionally nihilistic second-string goalie now actually believed there was such a thing as a soul, let alone something he would guard with the pathetically-disguised weapon he lovingly referred to as his "sweet music." But that tended to happen to folks already three times delusional even before fatigue.

His walk was already starting to stagger, a grim pallor had begun to set in on his face.

But Cisco Vasquez at least tried to look like he wanted to keep going even after there was no "soul" left to keep him going, as he staggered toward the ranger station from up in the mountains. The only thing that gave him any direction were the others leaving what was apparently now a dangerzone.

It was ironic how he believed he needed company so badly to keep himself from running into a shapeshifter.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
laZardo
Member Avatar
^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Now, he found himself drawn not just to the company, but to the action. A fight had broken out in the ranger station, one that could quite possibly result in death - something that had, putting it mildly, become his obsession. Wherever he'd gone on his way here, there were corpses. Some had been there for days. Others, like Max, had been freshly killed. If this was what Death did to people, then he was no longer simply afraid, but fascinated.

"Cisco...Cisco; it's me, come on. Hurry, let's go before they hear me."

Maybe that was the voice of his conscience finally getting its 15-second time on its lonely soapbox during the ongoing looting and arson. Maybe that was Joseé Tremblay, having finally caught up to the two. Either way it was still one voice in the crowd, literal and mental, only this time he could probably hear it now.

Almost as loud as the sound of a door slamming in front of him after someone pushed a girl toward out to him and Josee, and probably a lot softer than the sound of a horrific scream from inside the building. As the rules of the mob went, the voice that spoke the loudest was the one that was obeyed. The one that fed their bloodlust.

Cisco walked right up to the door, and gave it a good knocking. They'd probably be able to hear it as well from the inside as he could hear what was going on from the outside, which he wagered was pretty damn well.

"Hey...you sound busy..." he began, with an innocent, childish smile, "But if you need any help-"

Come to think about it, he figured as he cut himself off, that wasn't a good idea. If they needed anything, it was another corpse to add to the pile, and the person in front of the door when they answered it would probably be their most likely candidate. Still, they probably weren't gonna open it up immediately and make that little prophecy come true so quickly. And in any event, there was still his little obligation, muddled but not forgotten.

So if they allowed him one little luxury before they invited him in with his sweet music and granted him his deliverance from the mortal coil, Jessica would have been it. It all worked out!

He turned to Joseé and then slowly to the other girl, his back to the door and his smile still plastered on his increasingly-gaunt face.

"So...do you like music?" he asked.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
laZardo
Member Avatar
^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
One hundred and fifty hours worth of starvation rations and constant paranoia had done even less for his hand-eye-leg coordination than it did with his own fragile state of health. When suddenly pushed aside by a very threatening Teo Weinstock, there was absolutely no solace to be found in luck either. And perhaps the complete opposite sensation from the sweet music he had come to love as his only true friend.

The force of the push dislodged what even he had figured was a calcified grip with both arms on the sweet music only slightly. Bent, worn and torn from wear, tear and sweat from constant clinging and just being goddamn 40 years old, the old Carol Channing record sleeve had as much protection from its contents as - well - a wet paper bag. The circular sawblade pierced straight through it and shredded through the strange tubetop Cisco wore on his upper body into the flesh beneath, and from there into the layers of muscle and the blood vessels and capillaries that supplied them.

It didn't slice him in half or tear a gaping slit in his jugular, but the effect was something akin to drag a large-bore cheese grater across the left side of his chest.

If he wasn't treated soon - and he had lost his bag with first aid kit long ago, it was quite possible that the boy who had evaded death by others' hand would end up dead from betrayal by his own "sweet music." This irony was not a very pleasant thought. All things considered, it was actually a pretty pathetic way to go out. In fact it was probably almost as unpleasant a sensation as the smell of someone else's blood already permeating into his nostrils - that of what used to be Gracie Wainwright on the floor. But as far as thoughts went, it was the first one that actually motivated him to want to live, rather than merely survive against the inevitable.

The one obstacle at that point was putting those thoughts into action.

The only time he uttered any noise in reaction was the moment the circular blade actually went through - it was a yelp similar to that of a small, wounded animal. He found himself facing the wall, stunned practically silent not just with pain, but a revelation that was almost as big as ending up on an island and forced to do the bidding of the Grim Reaper.

"Well, they're gone now. We're both safe...I promise I won't let any harm come to you ever again."

Perhaps Josee Tremblay, who grabbed him and turned him around might have an idea how to bridge that gap. At least if she was prepared to face what was almost certain to be inevitable disappointment.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
laZardo
Member Avatar
^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Cisco, perhaps you should lie down, does it hurt? how deep is it in? how much blood are you losing?"

Joseé Trembley was asking him so many questions. And he could hear every last word. He hadn't lost THAT much blood yet from his circular sawblade's wound, and for all either of them knew it wasn't something he could bleed out from in the very short term if it wasn't bandaged quickly. He could still walk for all his starvation- and dementia-induced lack of hand-eye-leg coordination could still afford him before the bleeding eventually got too severe.

"It...it was just an accident...and I-"

Hell, he was already starting to hear things. Unusual things. If he actually paid attention to whatever time it was, he would have heard Danya's regular announcement. But as Danya's voice was one of the few constants already etched into his mind, he would have at least recognized that smarmy tone of his.

Clearly it seemed this island still had some surprised up his sleeve when Joseé appeared to be hearing them too.

It had not occurred to him that he had been separated from Josee long enough to find out exactly why she clung to him as much as she did, let alone why she was so intent on "helping" him. That didn't necessarily guarantee he'd trust her with his life to the bitter end, however inevitable that was.

But any sort of doting was better than that nagging, nagging feeling that Death was soon to manifest itself through Cisco's own actions rather than through the forms of people he once knew. Or perhaps that too was to throw him off guard for some kind of surprise deathly double reacharound: get him paranoid of others so that it would surprise him that he would die by his own hand - then surprise him doubly when it turns out that it was something delivered by others after all.

Surprise, surprise, surprise.

The only thing that didn't surprise him was the fact that he still insisted on holding onto the sweet music that had held him in its seductive grasp to the point where it literally backstabbed him...from the front.

GODDAMMIT, JUST MAKE IT STOP.

And at that moment, amidst the mental rioting, looting and pillaging, there was a fleeting moment of clarity like someone threw in a flashbang.

Perhaps the reason so many things still somehow surprised him here despite his paranoia was because he let himself be surprised.

That the sole reason why he had willingly risked severe bodily harm so many times before coming face-to-face with Death was because the inevitable harm had become just that - a surprise that he subconsciously wanted to recreate since the "surprise" car accident that robbed him of his biological parents and most mental coherency.

Of course, having been almost fatal the first time, there didn't need to be a third time for the surprise to finish what it started.

And although it would not miraculously cure his immediate physical or long-term mental ailments, he at least resolved would not wait for that to happen.

"If we follow that noise, it just might lead us to some sort of rescue... Maybe... But I don't know what other option we have, I won't let you stay here and die. Do you think you would survive long enough if I helped you stay upright?"

"Yyy...yeah..." he stuttered to Joseé, trying to force a bashful smile. "Let's go...but I can...walk fine, thanks..."

He squinted and seethed as he started to make his way out of the ranger station toward wherever the hell that noise was coming from. Maybe it really was a way out, or maybe it was Death's final trap. At this point in time, Cisco Vasquez wondered why he even cared.

When Death inevitably caught up with him, he resolved to not die like a surprised coward. Surprised was likely. But he hoped that he would remember not to die running when the mental rioting resumed.

He then smiled back at Joseé. If he was going to die, surprised and perhaps running, then at least he wouldn't die alone either.

...hopefully.

((Cisco Vasquez continued elsewhere))
Edited by laZardo, May 26 2011, 01:43 PM.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
ZetaBoards gives you all the tools to create a successful discussion community.
Learn More · Register for Free
« Previous Topic · The Ranger Station · Next Topic »
Add Reply