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
Remember Everything
Topic Started: Jan 18 2017, 03:00 PM (347 Views)
dmboogie
Member Avatar
A Delicate Machine
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((The rain had stopped, for now.))

Cass sat down on the still-damp grass next to Trav, Wade trailing behind somewhere behind the two of them. Cass was honestly surprised that he had stuck around for the past days - he seemed the type to be driven mad by inaction; and he had been surrounded by nothing but. Cass and Trav's idle chatter, still doggedly refusing to acknowledge their inescapable future. Irene for sure would have despised it, if she were still following them.

Ignoring reality wasn't enough to prevent them from feeling its effects, though - Sandy was dead. That had come as a shock. The first fallen friend, the first to be more of a person than an idea. They had never quite finished their last art debate, had they? Still, darkly enough, he was lucky in a sense - if Heaven was real, he had people there waiting for him.

Back on Earth, Cass was glad to be back on earth. It'd be crass to blame all their arguments and ill-will on the asylum, but it certainly hadn't made any outstanding effort to make them feel comfortable. Nature was impartial and sometimes cruel, but at least it wasn't grey. Cass admired their surroundings, feeling grateful that Trav wasn't asking about how their emotions were holding up. They'd be there all day.

"Same as you, probably. Sick of this food. Sick of these clothes." Jesus. Four days without a shower. It had kind of just stopped registering, thankfully. "Dying for a single freaking cup of tea."
a tribute for the dead and dying

Posted Image
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
dmboogie
Member Avatar
A Delicate Machine
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Ha. Cass thought they were a cynic, but Wade was something else entirely. Witness: the mechanical man, stark and unchanging as the collar wrapped 'round his neck. Leave no wishful thought intact, allow no falsehood a chance to even get its socks on. Even if time and proximity had made Cass feel less uncomfortable around him, they still didn't understand him. At least it went to show that they and Trav still had their thumbs on the same page of the "How to Cope With Your Own Impending Doom" guidebook.

In the end, they supposed that they needed to have someone around to grab their feet and yank them back down towards the ground, if Cass and Trav ever became hopelessly carried away by their pink clouds of fancy. At least, more so than their current perpetual state of being. "Sometimes, the idea of something's more important than the thing itself, y'know?" They said, feeling awkwardly pretentious despite how earnestly they meant every word.

"I don't wanna..." think too hard about it, Cass almost said, catching themself as they realized how annoyingly well that summed up their entire time on the island thus far. "Uh, stress too much about the details before we get there," they finished. "We've walked this far, it'd be kinda sad to just turn around without even getting our feet wet."
a tribute for the dead and dying

Posted Image
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
dmboogie
Member Avatar
A Delicate Machine
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Unfortunately, Wade wasn't wrong. Cass hadn't packed any spare clothes, and they doubted that anyone else had. None of them had expected the trip to the museum to last the rest of their lives, after all. At least all of history's other dead children had had the luxury of packing ahead of time for a prolonged trip. They hadn't been forced to freeze the night away in tank tops. Of course, neither had the person who had left Jane dead and exposed in the garden. Cass could never match the resourcefulness of the unscrupulous, a fact they were grateful for.

Hm. Was it more depressing to die instead of going to Disney World, or to die instead of attending a routine school field trip? Did the fires of hell sear your flesh that much deeper if you had been promised paradise beforehand? Or did the jarring ease with which their mundane afternoon had been disrupted instead conjure torturous regrets of how easy it would have been to call in sick; only missing out on an event that no one would remember three years from then if everything had gone according to plan? 'This was supposed to be the best week of my high school life' versus 'I never even wanted to go in the first place.' Cass supposed that after the initial shock wore off, both would taste just as bitter.

All this meandering thought only served to ignore the issue at hand, though. Cass wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of being irreversibly damp and soggy for who knew how many hours after they reached the ocean, especially not when it seemed likely to rain again before the day was over with. Hell, it'd be a good way to get hypothermia. How's that for an anticlimactic end?

Skinny dipping was right out. Cass shifted uncomfortably at the thought of even being seen by Trav, let alone Wade and history's legion of metallic eyes.

Still, in the end, none of that really mattered. The idea had been Trav's in the first place, and Cass was willing to cling to every shred of non-destructive purpose they could find. Once they did reach the shore proper, they would be more than content to simply wade in ankle deep, pretend that the shore didn't exist behind them, spend some time simply listening to the weight of the gray waves and imagining that they were alone with the sea.

The ocean had gifted artists with inspiration for millennia, and making a final, desperate pilgrimage to one of its shores was the least Cass could do in its honor.

"We're not gonna force you to get in, but we're not stopping either," Cass said to Wade. "Got anything you'd rather be doing?"
a tribute for the dead and dying

Posted Image
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
dmboogie
Member Avatar
A Delicate Machine
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((There was no changing Cass's, either.))
a tribute for the dead and dying

Posted Image
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
« Previous Topic · The Slopes · Next Topic »
Add Reply