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
This Is The End Of His Story
Topic Started: Jun 5 2017, 06:30 AM (749 Views)
backslash
Member Avatar
And I am still hungry.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Min-jae Parker continued from Gift for the Darkness))

Jae's hands weren't shaking anymore.

He was on his second cigarette of the day, and his head felt clearer than it had in a long while. He wasn't feeling hunger pangs quite so sharply anymore. Good old nicotine, doing its job.

Vanessa was dead. It was another unpleasant little jolt. Hazel's death hadn't been announced for whatever reason, but he wasn't far gone enough to start questioning whether he had really seen her die. He had the jacket back, after all, drying bloodstain on its inside lining and all.

Back at the asylum again. He always seemed to end up here, but then, so did everyone else. He had slept, sometime and somewhere. He didn't really remember. He had awoken with the feeling that he had dreamed, but he didn't remember those either.

Back where he started. He remembered that clearly enough, at least. Alvaro (who was now dead). Vanessa and Nancy (who were also both now dead). But Jae was still here, still limping along. If he kept going on down this hallway, he would eventually encounter the corpse that had once been Asha Sur. Asha and her killers were all dead too.

And Brendan fucking Harte was still alive.

Jae heard his stupid, whiny voice from several doors down. There were one or two others too, maybe that girl that Jae had seen Brendan with days ago. Fuck if he cared.

Every time he started thinking he had a handle on himself, back at school or in this hellhole, Brendan came along to fuck it up. And here's the thing: Jae didn't have a good reason for hating Brendan. He had just disliked Brendan for as long as he could remember knowing him, and that dislike had festered into contempt and then into disgust, and now - now he almost hated the very idea of Brendan. Brendan, much like Alessio Rigano, had been nobody before he got here and took up a weapon to end a life. But the nobodies, it seemed, were the ones who got to live here when they didn't deserve it, and something in the pit of Jae's chest turned sick and black and gnawed at him whenever he thought about that.

Brendan wasn't just always fucking normal things up for Jae with his presence; when things were bad, Brendan was inevitably there to make it worse. The counselor that Jae had been seeing back home had called Brendan something like a target for misplaced aggression; essentially, she said, when Jae was feeling bad, he zeroed in on something convenient to take those bad feelings out on, and Brendan was just an especially good punching bag. Jae had just managed not to roll his eyes when she laid it all out to him like that - he knew how taking his anger out on unrelated things worked, thanks, he'd been living with it all his life - but he couldn't deny that it summed Brendan up in an almost elegant way.

Brendan was a target. Here Jae was, drifting aimlessly again, having just lost everything, and then Brendan's voice floated down the hallway and hel-lo all of the teeth-grinding rage that Jae was just starting to think had drained away.

He stopped far away enough from the room that he wouldn't be visible to anyone who just glanced out the doorway. There were definitely at least two other people in there, and if Jae was remembering right the girl was armed.

But fuck. Did he really care if he lived anymore? Worst-case scenario, one of them shot him dead and then what? Then he was gone from here, that was what. Back into the ever-turning wheel of the universe to take his just punishment for what he had done, and then he could start over again.

Starting over didn't sound so bad.

Even if he had to deal with a few lifetimes as an animal or a ghost, that wouldn't be so bad. People were worse than animals. Being a ghost might be a so-called lifetime of want, but Jae was betting he'd be a pretty sick-ass ghost all the same. He would haunt the shit out of some people who deserved it.

He almost made himself laugh inappropriately again with that thought, but managed to suppress it. Quietly, he set the staff down so that he could retrieve the crossbow from his bag and load it. His hands were steady.

Jae leaned against the wall and listened to the scraps of Brendan's conversation with his allies, waiting.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Characters

Others
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
backslash
Member Avatar
And I am still hungry.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
It occurred to Jae that there was probably something ironic about sending Brendan on his way back into the cycle of things when the prospect of just going himself was starting to look pretty good.

But fuck, right now, right in this moment, he felt alive again. His heart rate was starting to pick up, he took in deep lungfuls of air and smoke. For the first time in days, his hands were steady and his vision was clear.

Brendan moved. He was the only one out in the open now. A target.

Jae closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten.











He opened them again and pulled the trigger.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Characters

Others
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
backslash
Member Avatar
And I am still hungry.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Jae didn't know why, but he was grinning.

The glacier calm that consumed him every now and again was shattered by gunfire in return for his shot. He might not have cared that much whether he lived or died but his body still moved on instinct, haphazardly throwing himself away from the noise. Splintered chunks flew up from his makeshift splint and fire shot across his hip, complimented by the split-second sting of the lit end of Jae's lost cigarette getting crushed between his side and the floor as he landed.

He should have gotten close and put his fucking cigarette out in Brendan's eye. The thought flitted through his head as he reloaded and fired back at the girl in the doorway. The shot went wide, but she moved back for a moment before the gun came up again, and that was just enough time for Jae to scramble farther down the hall until he reached the gate separating the sections of the ward.

Maybe they would follow him. Maybe not. Who cared? He'd burn that bridge when he got to it. He had burned so many already.

Maybe he should have stayed behind long enough to be sure. Maybe the wound wasn't fatal. Jae thought it was, it looked enough like the one he had given Nadia to make him willing to bet that it would be, but who could say? And again, who cared? Fuck Brendan. Let him finally have his due of suffering if he lived.

Jae had never really wanted Brendan dead so much as he wanted to hurt him, anyways.

((Min-jae Parker continued in give me shadow, put on my crown.))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Characters

Others
Online Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
« Previous Topic · Regular Wards · Next Topic »
Add Reply