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I Say You Kill Your Heroes And Fly, Fly, Baby Don't Cry; no need to worry because everybody will die
Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 04:34 PM (969 Views)
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Jeremy Frasier was going to die on this island.

((B003: Begin))

That was what he had figured out the moment he woke up. Well, okay, you got him there. Not actually moment one. Probably about… five minutes? He didn’t have a watch on him (and likely never would, at this rate) but five minutes staring at the sky seemed right. Really, the fact that he felt he could keep time in his head was honestly a little surprising to him. He was on Survival of the Fittest, an event which, quoth him, was “a giant publicised thunderdome in which a high school class fought tooth and nail until only one was left standing.” Really, considering where he was right now he expected himself to be screaming, crying, destroying the environment around him or something like that. Instead, he was on his back, hands behind his head and staring at the sky. Getting a little bit of a tan too, considering the heat on the right side of his face. It was odd. He felt nice, in a way, laying down like this. Warm. Comfortable. Slightly homey.

Not exactly the feeling he imagined that one would have when they learned that their days were numbered.

Still, probably not the position that Jeremy should really be in, considering he was the aforementioned one who had just learned that his days were numbered. He sat up, turned his head to look around. Felt the sand fall off his back onto the ground. He was on a beach of some sort, empty and trailing from what seemed like side to side with an empty blue ocean in front of him. Scenic, in a way. Not that he really cared about art or the beach but he imagined that there was a certain angle you could look at this that’d make a good painting. Not really something he cared about honestly but hey, maybe some asshole back in the real world could get rich by selling art of dead kids. Maybe then Jeremy would be remembered after he died. He took his hands off of his head and put them onto the ground, so that he could lean back while he was seated like this. He could feel something where he placed his left. He looked, checking to see what it was. A bag, with the name B003: Frasier, Jeremy on it. Given that someone had put his name on it he assumed that it was his. He brought it onto his lap, fumbling with the zipper as he opened it...

...to find a giant revolver just sitting there. Ready to be taken.

He grabbed it. Well, slowly, not as sudden or fast as he had made it sound. Although this was the first time he had seen an actual gun it wasn’t really that special, considering the events and milestones now in Jeremy’s life through the minutes prior. Seeing a gun for the first time was a little interesting, though, at least compared to the other events happening right now (i.e: nothing). He placed his hand around the hold and trigger, resisting the temptation to swing it around on his finger given that the little thing that you had to press to actually fire the gun was right there and would probably trigger at the slightest pressure.It didn’t really seem take much to pull it, which sucked. Maybe he could have looked badass or something swinging the gun around like a cowboy. Couldn’t really complain though. He had a gun. That was probably a better weapon than about what 50% of his class got.

Probably wouldn’t help him that much at all, though.

Because sure, he had a gun. As cool as that was, it didn’t discount the fact that he was overweight and unathletic. And really, considering that this was Survival of the Fittest, that just kinda gave him poor chances from the offset. As powerful as the gun probably was, it wouldn’t really help him that much at all if one of the wrestlers or one of the athletes got in range of him. He was basically dead. If there were people back in the real world running a ring on who would win the lone person who bet on the unathletic kinda smart kinda savvy gamer would get the full payout. Because in all honestly? Nobody would be betting on him. He was dead in the water and it was only a matter of time until some aspiring psychopath decided to make him their next artform.

Jeremy Frasier, 0% chance of winning the game.

And really, Jeremy was inclined to believe those odds. $100 said that someone other than Jeremy would win this thing. He was so faithful in his odds that he was betting far above his actual bank. He didn’t even have $100 to lose. He was dead in the water; no matter how hard he tried Jeremy Frasier would not be the one crowned the fittest at the end.

So in that case, why bother? His days were numbered, better to spend them doing something of actual worth rather than spend them chasing the horizon. Everyone was going to do that, may as well be that one hipster or emo or whatever. Really, if he had to guess what the other 100 or so people who picked the wrong trip were planning on doing he’d probably guess something like:

1. Figure out a way to survive.
2. Find friends, maybe join up with them..

That… wasn’t really the way Jeremy would do it. It was Survival of the Fittest, not Survival of the Best Friends or Survival of the Fitter. Maybe if he switched and removed a couple things, though...

1. Find Friends?

Yeah, okay, he had nothing. Sue him. Actually don’t because it’d be kinda hard to sue a corpse but you get the meaning. And really, just give him a break. It probably hadn’t even been ten minutes since he had woken up and at the very least he was probably going to survive at least another half hour or so. He had time. Maybe he could figure out something in that half hour or so. Probably not a clear cut actual plan but even if he couldn’t think up of one he could at least improvise something. He could do that.

Standing up did seem like a good idea, though. He got up - sand from his butt and legs again falling down onto the ground - and looked around, revolver held casually in his right hand, eyes looking around and trying to see if anyone else had woken up near where he was.

He didn’t really know who it was going to be if it was someone, but regardless of who it was he figured it’d be at least interesting to see how people were reacting to this.
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A voice frantically called out his name, and Jeremy turned, gun held down low with his fingers kept away from the trigger.

Irene Djezari barrelled towards him, her run not unlike her demeanour. She was a friend, sorta. She was too popular to really have the time to be able to talk to him, which tended to suck, but whenever she didn’t have anyone to talk to besides him he had a little fun with her. Mostly through mocking and riling her up but ultimately she didn’t really seem to mind it after the fact, given that she kept coming back and talking to him. Ultimately not really a bad result for the “first person he met here” distinction, given that the two were friendly with each other and she wasn’t really an asshole. At the very least she was better than like, Cadeyn or Adelaide or Jane or someone else he didn’t really like.

But anyway, she came up towards him, stopping and resting for a bit before she started speaking again. Her voice was cautious, more serious than it normally was. He listened to her, as she told him that this was a misunderstanding.

And then he shook his head.

“No, I don’t think it is. This is way too elaborate for it to just be a joke.”

His mind flashed back to when he first woke up. Not on the beach, but in the dark room. He watched the teacher get shot, just like everyone else did, and as much as he wanted to scream and shout back then when it happened he knew that it wouldn’t achieve anything. He listened as the man explained the rules for the game, and he watched the little demonstration on the screen. As much as he wanted to believe what Irene was saying there was no way that this could be a joke, given what he had seen.

He just hoped that the other teachers were okay. As much as he learned to fear some of them over the last few years, they didn’t deserve this. No-one did.

“You saw what happened to… the teacher, right?” The sentence was strained, forced. He didn’t realise what was coming out of his mouth until halfway through. Poor impulse control as always, Mr. Frasier. Right now you’re coming off as a massive jackass right in front of everyone watching from that camera Irene pointed out to you. At least have the gall to finish what you said. You started it, and now it’s your responsibility to finish it.

“I don’t think you could really fake-

And then another voice called out to the both of them. He turned his head again, this time towards the boy covered in seaweed. Couldn’t recognise who it was from here, but according to what they said they were a swamp monster.


Honestly, considering what was right in front of him right now he was kinda tempted to start believing what Irene was saying. Well, not really. There was still the fact that the teacher was shot in front of him and the fact that this was way too large scale to replicate, but considering the situation he was in honestly he’d prefer that this be a joke than it be real.

The form came a little closer, and at this point Jeremy could see that it was just someone covered in seaweed. He smirked, slightly. Probably not fake then. Well, sadly probably not fake, the smile was more for the dude covered in seaweed than of the inevitable fact of his death. He would rather not die on this island, but he supposed that that was just how the cookie ended up crumbling for him.

He might as well have a little fun with this, though. At least while the mood was still as light as it possibly could be.

“Why hello, swamp monster!” He shouted. “How are you doing on this fine day?”

It was good to know that Jeremy at least had his amazing natural sense of humour back. He was probably the only one who actually found it funny, but eh, whatever. He could work on it later. Assuming that he was still alive later of course, but details were details and if he was dead he probably wouldn’t be able to complain about it too much.
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((Thread is open now. Sorry about that.))


That was in response to Irene, who had just shouted way too loud at him. At the general area too, but he was the one who would have heard it the loudest. He breathed out through his nose. At least he knew that his hearing still worked. It probably didn’t now that Irene had likely deafened him, but honestly not really. As much as he wanted to say that he could still hear the waves coming up and back from the shore, so unless being able to hear waves was some hidden sixth sense or something he was pretty sure that he didn’t go deaf. He was still in the running for ear damage, though, and he would probably prefer that he be deaf than have an ear infection. They sucked. Hurt like hell and made him unable to sleep.

...Though considering the situation he was in, maybe being totally unable to sleep was an advantage. Danger could be around any corner, after all.

Well, not like he really cared about that but if he was able to live long enough to do… whatever it was he was going to do, still hadn’t thought of anything yet, that would be sweet. It’d make his own death likely even worse given the rising amount of hope but hey, details.

The swamp monster came forward, dropping his gear or his foreskin or whatever the appropriate term would be and showing that it was another one of his fellow classmates. Danny Brooks. Flirt, occasional lab partner whenever they had science. Sometimes funny, mostly a killjoy. He remembered back to 10th grade sex ed where he ruined it for literally everybody. Literally everybody meaning only Jeremy, but the previous statement sounded so much more better than “ruined it for only Jeremy.” That one made him sound a little bitter. But anyway, he was here, and he seemed to be taking it as a joke as well, giving a worse explanation than what Irene gave him.

As he was wrong, he supposed that it was Jeremy’s duty to correct him. That was something he did back then, right?

“I personally was never too much of a victim of Bradley’s self-called jokes,” Jeremy replied. For what it was worth they were jokes but considering what people were thinking here it was better to side with them, “but I don’t think that he’s capable of pulling off something so large scale.”

And goddammit, couldn’t they at least give him some good evidence to suggest that this wasn’t real? Believe him, he really didn’t want to actually be on SotF but considering Irene gave him nothing and Danny gave him a bad reason he was forced to go with his own opinion. He wanted to believe so hard but they absolutely wasn’t going to cut it for him.

Then Danny got weird for some reason, looking at the two of them with his hands in the air. Jeremy was slightly confus-

Oh, right.

“Whoops, sorry,” he said as he placed the barrel of the gun in his pocket. Probably a demonstration for poor gun safety, but he didn’t know where else to put it and he didn’t think the trigger would go off when it was there. Hopefully he was right about that. Accidently shooting himself sounded painful.
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Jeremy frowned, slightly.

“You’re not doing that great of a job at convincing me, here.”

That was directed at both of them, because really, they weren’t doing that great of a job at trying to get him to believe that this wasn’t real. Irene was just making statements with no evidence or reason behind them, which if he remembered correctly from his brief stint of debating in 7th grade wasn’t really a good way at convincing people that your statement was fact. Danny still held onto the belief that it was Bradley, and gave something uncharacteristic of him as reason to believe that this was all an elaborate joke on Bradley’s part. Bradley worked alone, and his humour tended to lie with riling people up and making them angry enough to do things that he found enjoyable. Kinda like what Jeremy did, sometimes, but he was much more mild about it. Ask Irene, she knew all about it.

“Because really, as much as I’d like to hope and believe that I’m not going to die horribly within the next few days, neither of you have succeeded in making me believe that the opposite is true.”

Wait, whoops, he forgot tact there. Whatever, he just kinda needed to get that out.

“Sorry about that, but it’s true. This is totally impossible for Bradley to do on his own and it’s uncharacteristic for him to have accomplices. And I have no real evidence pointing to the contrary that these…” He tapped the gun in his pocket. “Aren’t real.”

“Like, I don’t want to come off as tactless or tacky here but…”

Okay, he wasn’t really sure of how to finish that sentence but oh well, he got the point out. Maybe he could think of happier things. Or at the very least better things. Like… he didn’t know. A pretty good idea came out of Danny’s mouth, so maybe he’d focus on that. Maybe it’d help his case a little.

“I can test what you’re saying out, if you like. I don’t think I’m going to end up using this much. Also, um…” He looked around. Danny had asked another question so he figured that he could answer it as well.

“We seem to be on some sort of beach. There’s probably a way off of this, I’m guessing.”
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“One out of three ain’t- isn’t bad.”

There was a shrug before that sentence. There was a small smile after. This sorta reminded him of the way they occasionally argued during school. She’d say something stupid, he’d try to give her a reason for why it was stupid, she’d keep being stupid, he would get a rise because he was getting annoyed with her stupidness, and then she’d say something that’d lighten the mood and make him realise how kinda stupid he was being for trying to argue with her. Those talks were fun, other than the part where he’d get slightly actually angry but ultimately that was a part he had the capability to forget. He was in that phase now. Irene was still trying to argue with him but he was trying to change it to something else because he saw now that nothing was going to end up with him convincing her.

There was something in what he said that he could work off of. Probably not something Irene actually meant, but still something he found a little funny. Enough to mention, at the very least.

“Wait, do you seriously think that Darius is capable of doing-”

A gunshot rang out. Jeremy closed his eyes, and for a moment, all that existed was noise.

He opened his eyes.

His ears were ringing.

His heart was thumping.

He looked around and tried to see what was happening, light from the sun refusing to leave his eyes creating the outline of the initial image every way he turned his head. Danny was shouting something, Jeremy didn’t know what. He could hear the words coming out of his mouth but they weren’t words, they were sounds. Blocks of ice sitting there on the table waiting for a sculptor to give them shape. He was also doing something. Pulling the collar around his neck and trying to get it off. Wait, hang on, wouldn’t that cause it to explode? The ringing was still most of what he could hear and the words of his mind weren’t connecting together but he remembered the presenter saying something like that so it would probably be best if he said something.

“Wait, don’t do that. Calm down,” Jeremy said. The sounds were better coming from him, but not by much. The blocks were slightly chiselled, each syllable was unique from the others but they were still only sounds. Nothing he could really tell. He hoped that Danny got it, at the very least.

Wait, where was Irene?

He looked around frantically for a bit trying to see where she was but then he saw her on the ground. Okay. Good. He wasn’t really sure what could have happened to her but it was okay that she was okay. Apparently she had knocked herself to the ground, but she didn’t seem to be that much injured. His heartbeat felt a little bit less intense and he realised that it was sorta typical for this to happen of her to fall onto the ground like that.

He had to resist the urge to smile, even if it was only slight. Even if she was okay smiling after what just happened probably wasn’t the appropriate thing for him to do. She had likely just figured it out. The least he could do was give her a little courtesy.

He reached his hand down to her.

“You okay?”
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The cracks had been made to the ice. The ringing faded. Jeremy could actually hear words now.

“Awesome,” was what he said as he pulled her up off the ground. Sorry BB, but apparently Irene was the true girl for Jeremy. He almost said that this was going to be the first and only time he ever held hands with a girl but then he remembered back to the dance in March when BB held his hand. It felt nice. Physically cold but mentally warm. He remembered at that point he got overtly worried about whether it was supposed to be romantic or not but then she convinced him to dance with her for a bit and he realised that hey, maybe he could just have a little fun and just not think; that was why they decided to go with each other in the first place. Then the walk home happened. Cold wind. Full moon. Park bench. Held hands. Maybe something more, it honestly felt like a blur. God, looking back on it, it was probably the best night of his life.

He was happy that BB was okay, at the very least. There was an email she sent him about how she was going on the other day. There was a sad face in his reply but now that he knew what was going to happen, maybe he would have rectified that into a happy one. She would survive. Maybe that wasn’t what mattered, but it was at worst still good.

Wait, probably not the right time to think this. He shook his head. Looked up. Where was everyone again?

Wait. Okay. Irene was still somehow in denial. Considering that she still thought that even after firing the gun he really should have known that he wouldn’t have been able to convince her. Moving on. She had asked the both of them to say things. Him smart. Danny cute. He would have switched both of those around and then give Danny the word that was the opposite but whatever, the princesses word was law. That was what she considered herself, right? Well he meant not actually what she considered herself but it was the title that made part of her persona. Like how he tended to have social adjectives and canines in his. A persona he had wanted to change for years because of the connotations, but that was something that he didn’t have to really worry about anymore.

Anyway, smart remark. Probably worked better for him than cute, but um…

“I mean, if this were 4kids,” he said, taking the gun out of his pocket. “We likely wouldn’t have guns.”

He held it up in front of his chest, hand on the hold but not on the trigger.

“I’d probably be holding something like that fist spring thing I saw once.”

Wait, was holding the gun up a bad idea?


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“Well bye then.”

Irene just left. For no reason, at that. Was it because he was talking about 4Kids? Was Irene such an anime purist that she just couldn’t handle the mere mention of 4Kids? So many questions. Part to do with some of the choices 4Kids made when dubbing One Piece but mostly to do with Irene’s sudden exit. Danny left, too. Jerk. The bye was to both of them, mostly to Irene though. Why did they just suddenly leave him? Did he smell or something? He checked his armpits. No, not too bad. The deodorant was starting to wear off on him but he couldn’t smell the sweat much. Since it didn’t seem to be his smell he wasn’t sure what it was, then. Maybe next time they met he’d ask why.

It just occurred to him that this could possibly be the last time he ever saw the either of them alive. The image of Irene prancing away into the distance and the image of Danny… just bolting could be the last image Jeremy had of them. It felt odd. In a way. He could deal with never being able to see Danny again but Irene was a friend. Not a close one but someone he had fun with back then. It’d be weird, never being able to see or talk to her again. It was still something he could deal with, but he didn’t know. Something to think of, at the very least.

So he stood there, at the beach, for a while. He had stopped thinking about it a while ago - his mind had now moved on to other subjects - but he still hadn’t moved. Part of him didn’t want to, really. If he moved he would be not here and there weren’t guns and people and the fear of death here. It was like… waking up, in a way. That metaphor worked. It was like when his alarm went off on a school day. He could just turn his alarm off if he wished and just kinda pretend that he could stay where it was warm and where it was comfy forever. He’d like that. He’d like to stay here and be safe, even for just that little bit longer.

Still though, best to not stay here for too long. Time moved whether he liked it or not, and it was bound that this beach wouldn’t be as safe and calming as it is now. Back then he had to get out of his bed, and now he had to actually put himself into potential danger, regardless of whether he wanted it to or not.

So, he looked around. Behind the beach; not at the sea but further into the land. There was a tower, looming over him.

That seemed interesting. At least enough for him.

So, now that he had an idea, he started moving.

((Jeremy Frasier, continued in The Brave May Not Live Long, but the Cautious Don't Live at All))
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