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It's a Snap
Topic Started: Jan 14 2017, 05:50 PM (969 Views)
MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Annoying. Annoying. ANNOYING! Why was she so annoying!?

He said to try it again. Lo and behold, she actually was trying again, and boy was she being rude about it! No verbal spatting? No drama? She was just trying to stay on top of him like some sort of wild dog nipping repeatedly at his heels. Except, instead of biting, she had punched him and he'd probably be feeling that for hours to come. He couldn't do a damn thing about the kick either; with one arm still cradling the precious loaf of bread that was supposed to get him through the rest of the day and with the other quite literally stuck in his pocket, he knew his posture was terrible.

He let his leg take the hit. He saw the punch coming, and knew he did NOT want to be punched again.

Fair play was for pussies.

With no further thought attached to the action, Jerry withdrew his hand and pulled out his first friend on the island. He pressed the button and the blade popped out. He stabbed, the motion wild and instinctual rather than precise or surgical. That'd show her for trying to bring her fists to a knife fight, the dumb whore.
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Namira
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Null sheen.
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She connected, and then again.

The tiniest piece of her, beneath the focus and beneath the frustration, was just the littlest bit satisfied. Toby didn't really do the measuring up thing, but as one of the few members of her own weight class at club, she couldn't help wondering. How would she do against some of these guys in non-sparring, in not just rolling? Full contact just didn't happen in training—which made sense, it was just guys like Jerry taking things too seriously and then getting sat down.

So she'd speculated a bit. And honestly, she'd thought she could take Jerry, and here she was, taking it out right on his smug prick face-

The knife slid cleanly between her ribs.

It did not exit nearly so cleanly.

The blade tore out as she ripped herself backward, crying out in alarm and pain. Something ruptured and all the biology and school in the world couldn't tell her what it was over the burning agony in her chest. Her hands went to the wound, like that could staunch the flow—and maybe it could, maybe that would prevent the blood from pouring out, but it couldn't mend what had been punctured.

Toby's eyes, wide as saucers, fixed on Jerry.

She tried to think of some remark to spit at him.

She tried to think of what apology she could make.

She tried not to think of what would happen to her family without her.

Her mouth filled with blood as she fell to her knees, and then slumped to the side.


G028: TOBY ANDREASSON - DECEASED
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Privyet
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Matt couldn't move. He desperately wanted to, but he couldn't. Fear rooted him to the ground, keeping his eyes darting between Toby, Jerry and the knife. He just saw someone die - he didn't feel like doing much. Not puking, crying, moving.. maybe if he stood still long enough, Jerry would go away. He'd put away the knife he used to kill Toby and just walk off somewhere to go do whatever it was Jerry Fury did when he was alone. Matt didn't know what went on in Jerry's head. He never would, and that frankly made him feel fine.

He did know that Jerry didn't think twice about pulling a knife out and stabbing a friend of his with it. Maybe he wasn't thinking and that was it. He wasn't thinking. When most people aren't thinking, they miss a left turn or forget to feed the dog or something pointless and negligible like that. They don't kill someone. If they do, they don't kill someone they were friends with.

Matt took a step back.

His voice was low - quiet, shaky. Like he didn't know what to say.

He didn't. He had no idea what to say to this.

"Jerry." That's all he said. Jerry, staring at the object of interest. He had to make sure. Make sure that he wasn't going to kill him. A week ago, he wouldn't have pictured himself having to do any of this, but he guessed that today and the preceding days had been a day of firsts. First day he saw a dead body. First day someone ever threatened to kill him. First day he saw someone die - today.

"Put the knife away."
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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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Oh. Ooooh.

Oooooohhh noooooo.

Noodle went down like a sack of bricks, which was more or less the intended effect. But this? This was only slightly more dire than he had been expecting. Throwing out the switchblade and thrusting it forward was a snap decision, one to preserve the state of his face which still ached, blood pooling in Jerry's cheek. He didn't have time to think about the outcome, but he half-expected this to turn out more like Monty Python's black knight and less like West Side Story. He took a half-step back, the loaf of bread tumbling from the crook of his arm and landing on the ground.

It had only taken a few seconds for Noodle to be reduced to lying on one side, mouth slightly agape, eyes drooping but never closing, sides not heaving or raising. All that was missing was the poorly rendered circle of blood to tell Jerry that his enemy was totally dead and not getting back up in order to bite his foot as he attempted to walk past.

He killed Noodle. Noodz was fucking dead. Jerry looked down at the switchblade and saw less blood than he expected clinging to it. 'Probably because it's stainless steel,' thought the words forcing themselves through his mind, a nervous laugh hiccoughing out from his own tasteless joke. There was no time to process exactly what he had done with Matt right there, looking at him with that accusing face, trying to give him orders. He was standing on a bridge. It was a bridge to Assholeville, and it was set in fire behind him.

Jerry motherfuckin' Fury wasn't about to step backwards.

"The fuck? You trying to tell me what to do?" Jerry started asking even before he ever pulled his eyes away from the knife, away from the dead body on the ground.

"Telling ME to put this away? Last time I checked, I had the weapon! Want me to put this down? Make me!" Jerry's breath raised up to panic levels, gripping the switchblade's handle until his fist felt cold.
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Matt was starting to notice how fast his heart was beating. He could guess why. Toby was dead. Jerry was starting to sound angry. Angry at him, for reasons he didn't really care to figure out - again, he would never know what went on in Jerry Fury's head. He'd never know and he'd never care. What he did care about, of course, was dissuading Jerry from making this into a double murder.

Matt, slowly, started backing away. He was trying to put as much space between him and Jerry as possible. Jerry was physically fit. Faster than him, stronger than him. There was no way he was going to win this fight if it came to that.

So, like always, he would run away.

"Okay, uh.. just, just.." He was stumbling over his words. He had no fucking idea how to tell Jerry 'don't stab me' in a way that didn't sound accusative.

"Just chill out, okay?"
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MK Kilmarnock
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"Chill out?"

Jerry took a step forward. He could practically feel those flames fanning behind him. No way left but forward. Shit, now it was nothing but melodramatic talks into cameras and waxing philosophy and waving around a blade while screaming like a maniac. Oh well. Take the good with the bad, right? For instance, the good: Matt was backing away from him. That made Jerry feel powerful, like he was now a graduate in Baby's First Kill school and was ready to join the others on the big-boy swing set.

Significantly fewer swings, but more stabbing to go around.

"I don't need to chill out, I'm calm!" Jerry said less-than-calmly. "You need to chill out! Why you backin' up, Matt? You gonna run?" Jerry asked, tilting his head. "I wouldn't run if I were you. You know I run basically, like... every day, right? To and from school. Every. Goddamn. Day."

His hand was shaking.
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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why was he coming closer? He had to get out of here. Maybe not right now, but later, when he could get out of here. Jerry was right. He was faster, definitely stronger.. he wasn't acting rationally. He hadn't acted rationally a day in his god damn life, but here Matt was and he was paying for it. He had to convince Jerry. Make him think that he was useful or not worth killing or something that would just let him make it through the hour. Let him get somewhere and think about what to do.

The weather was nice, really. Not too hot. Not too cold. He was sweating, regardless of the temperature. One stab, that was all it took. Hearing Jerry's words, Matt stopped backing away. He straightened up and looked Jerry in the eye, desperately trying to seem like he wasn't terrified.

"Okay, okay. I'm chill, Jerry. Just, uh.. what.. are we gonna do now?" He eyed Toby's corpse for a few fleeting seconds. We. Good choice of words, he thought, try and make it sound like they were working together.

"I mean, uh.. can't stay here, right? We're all, uh.. fuck, you know. Out in the open?" Matt smiled. It was so fake it hurt. His legs shook with fear. He didn't have anyone to stand in between him and one of Cochise's best and brightest. Not now.
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MK Kilmarnock
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"Yeah, no. I get that. We're not GONNA stay here. First we gotta figure out what to do about Noodz, and, uh..."

Jerry was drawing a blank. Shit, what even was their plan right now? It was finding Trav, right? Yeah, that wasn't happening... Toby wasn't moving around any time soon and by all measures was looking pretty cadaveriffic. If she was, indeed, dead, Trav might find out about it and then it'd be all over. Running into that guy was basically just asking for the fight of a lifetime. And he'd probably cheat to win again because, of course, that's just what stupid Trav does.

But that's fine, because Trav wasn't going to find out, right? Not like there's some sort of announcement system to tells you exactly who killed who.

Right.

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK." Jerry started repeating. "Trav's gonna kill me. I kiddled... I killed Noodle, and how-NOW, now he's gonna- FUCK! I can't talk!" Jerry kicked at the dirt, some of the clods of wet soil getting all over Toby's shoes without him really meaning to do it. "We need to move. Like, right the fuck now. I'm gonna be a target and I bet there's at least one fucking person in this hellhole playing hero, being all 'wah you killed somebody, now I'm gonna kill you like that makes it right!' Like that makes any sense," Jerry snapped.

"But you saw it, right, Matt? She attacked ME. She started hitting me for no fucking reason!"
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He wasn't going to kill him. Matt's fake smile nearly transformed into a real one when it became clear that no, Jerry WASN'T going to stab him to death. Apparently he could figure it out that needlessly killing people wasn't the right thing to do. He was going to live, thank fuck.

"Okay, uh.. yeah, yeah, we really need to get out of here. I, think we should go to the asylum, or, uh, something. It's big. Really hard to find someone in there, I guess.. uh.."

Matt was trying his best to bullshit a plan. He had to convince Jerry he was worth keeping around.

"Listen, uh.. I, don't think you need to find Trav. He's, he's probably going to kill you. I'm not joking, he's gonna try and kill you.. uh."

Jerry was explaining, poorly, why he didn't like people who were 'playing hero'. He didn't know what that mean, really, but he could sort of guess. Someone who wasn't going to win.

"Yeah, yeah. I saw it. She.. ah, fuck. Let's just get out of here."
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MK Kilmarnock
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"No shit," Jerry lamented. It was stated a bit more calmly than his speech just a few seconds prior. His speech a few seconds prior was also curse-laden and practically shouted at Matt, so... y'know, a bit of a low hurdle to clear, that one. "I get that I don't want to run into him, so I ain't gonna go looking for him."

Jerry flicked the switchblade, half hoping that Toby's blood would come off of it. The dulling liquid stubbornly clung to the steel instead, and Jerry realized that he'd have to wash it by hand. It could wait, he decided. No sense in getting blood on his shirt or pants, and he didn't want to directly touch it, so... he guessed he'd have to swish it around in some water or something. For now, he resigned himself to merely tucking the blade away, then grasping the handle in a closed fist. He wasn't gonna put the knife in his pocket any time soon. It was his baby. His lifeline.

His heart was still beating so quickly. If he didn't look at Toby, she didn't exist. Don't think about it. Don't let the existential dread set in. DON'T LET IT SET IN.

"Welp! Let's mosey!" Jerry said, humming loudly to himself as he strode out of the cove.

((Jerry "I'm a dangerous man" Fury continued elsewhere, ya nerds.))
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MK Kilmarnock
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"FUCK, MY BREAD!"

Jerry suddenly turned an about-face and ran to grab the fallen-but-still-wrapped-so-it-was-still-good loaf of bread, then set about on his original course.

((Continued elsewhere for real this time.))
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Feb 9 2017, 10:28 PM.
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So he was going to live after all. He certainly couldn't trust Jerry - Toby's corpse served as proof of that - but he was going to live. At least for now, and now was all that really mattered. As for later, well.. he'd figure it out, certainly. He could always figure things out, he was sure of it.

((Matt Moradi continued here.))
Edited by Privyet, Apr 21 2017, 02:04 PM.
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