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Battle Royale; Private, Day 11
Topic Started: Aug 5 2017, 09:18 AM (1,499 Views)
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Who is this sassy lost child
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Min-jae Parker continued from Takasago))

The next morning brought good news and bad news.

The good news: Jon was definitely, totally, one-hundred-percent dead. So were Caedyn and Emma. Three less known threats to deal with. Kimiko also hadn't opted to shank Jae during the night, which was somewhat surprising. Jae had his suspicions about her reasons for wanting him to stick around, but he didn't voice them just yet. They'd burn that bridge when they got to it.

The bad news was that they couldn't leave the asylum. They, and whoever else might be left, were getting herded in more and more tightly, and it wasn't hard to figure out why.

It was almost over.

Jae thought back to the first day, more than a week ago now, and tried to remember what it was like. Every day now was one that he hadn't been able to envision waking up to.

He let Kimiko choose which direction they headed in; as long as they didn't go back to the rooms where Henry and Asha's bodies lay or down into the basement, he had no real objections. Staying put was good in theory, but they were both running low on supplies. Sooner or later, trouble was going to find them no matter what.

Kimiko's sudden stop as she entered the cafeteria suggested that it was going to be sooner.

Jae was a few steps behind, but he got a glimpse inside and caught sight of a familiar face that told him everything he needed to know.

"Fuck," he panted, and fumbled for the safety on the rifle.
"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."
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Fucking fuck of course he couldn't catch a break for one goddamn day-

Jae squeezed off one shot at Fiyori's retreating back before he had to jerk back out of the doorway to avoid the fire from Brendan's girlfriend. He thought Kimiko might have been hit, but wasn't sure. He didn't look back in to check, instead flattening himself against the wall and struggling to disentangle himself from the strap of his bag so he could get a proper grip on the rifle.

His mangled hand burned and his ears were ringing.

The Brendan Harte Fan Club was really starting to grate on his nerves.

He waited until there was a pause in the gunfire from inside the room to chance another shot.
"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."
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Jesus fuck, what had Jae ever done to Fiyori? He hadn't even seen her here before now.

He had considered giving her some kind of thanks for helping to take Isabel down when he'd first heard that announcement, but now he took it back. Bitch wasn't getting any thanks for piling on the aggravations he had to deal with.

Another quick glance inside rewarded him with a glimpse of Fiyori retreating further into the kitchen and Kimiko apparently holding her own behind one of the tables. Jae caught on to her plan as she dropped to the ground and fired low.

He caught a blur of the other girl through the rifle's scope and followed Kimiko's shots with his own.
"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."
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There was a lull in the gunfire. Jae's ears were ringing.

Another glance inside confirmed that Kimiko was still mostly in one piece; they had driven Fiyori and Brendan's girlfriend back into the kitchen. Kimiko was already setting up to fire on anyone who showed themselves, so Jae took a moment before entering the cafeteria properly.

His injured hand was stinging like hell, and his shoulder felt like it was beginning to bruise from the rifle's kick. He really would rather use the crossbow, but that didn't seem like a good bet against two people with guns. He had barely gotten away from Brendan's girlfriend twice without equal firepower; if she wanted to keep pushing the issue, he could return in kind now.

When nobody reemerged from the kitchen, Jae stole in and settled behind the table near Kimiko. "You figure there's any way out of there?" An emergency exit for employees, maybe, but this place didn't exactly seem up to OSHA standards and the world outside might as well not exist for all the good leaving the building would do.
"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."
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Jae nodded.

<I go for the tall one, you take the other.>

Describing the two girls without knowing any name signs was cumbersome, but speaking out loud might alert Fiyori and her companion to their movements. They had the element of suspense, if not exactly surprise, on their side and they needed to use it to their advantage. The smaller girl was hurt already, and the assault rifle should do the trick; Jae could get Fiyori from farther back with the rifle and their comparable heights meant he didn't have to worry as much about hitting Kimiko with stray fire.

Very briefly, just for half a moment or less, it occurred to Jae how massively fucked up it was that he could think so logically about gunning down two people in cold blood.

...Hopefully Kimiko got the gist of his plan. He wasn't about to try spelling all that out in sign.

Jae readied the gun and rose using the table as support, nodding towards the kitchen door.

He kept as close to Kimiko as his limp would allow as they moved in for the kill.
"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."
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Ten seconds from pushing open the kitchen door, everything went to hell.

Ten. Kimiko entered. Jae limped in after her, gun at the ready.

Nine, eight. Kimiko rounded a corner, caught sight of - something.

Seven. Jae saw her jerk back, start to turn. He lowered the gun. Something was wrong.

Six. Fuck.

Five, four, three. He backpedaled, reached out with one hand to feel for the door behind him.

Two. Fuck.

One.

There was a roar and then Jae was deaf and blind.

He felt himself knocked off his feet, thrown against the door, and then he felt nothing.
"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."
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Only Jae never came to his senses, on account of the fact that he was fucking dead.
"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."
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What are you still looking at? He's dead. Nothing to see here. Move along.








































...Fiyori.

































What. What? What more do you want here? You won this round, you're the sole survivor, get out of my fucking face Fiyori or put a bullet in it like you were practically salivating to do like five fucking minutes ago. What are you going to do, sit and stare all day like some kid poking at a piece of roadkill with a stick? There's nothing to see here. The only differences between an actual corpse and a person doing a half-assed attempt at looking like an actual corpse are time and intent. If you're so concerned with the distinction, why not make sure that it's one or the other?








This is fucking stupid, Fiyori. One scavenger preparing to cannibalize another only the first one never takes a bite even though that was all she wanted just a moment ago and god fucking damn it Fiyori why don't you fucking commit to something for once in your miserable life, the story is ending Fiyori and I was ready to die about a hundred pages ago but the thing is that you people keep giving me more chances and then I'm not ready anymore and Fiyori you fucking cunt you don't get to take it back you bitch you can't take anything back not your words not the three people you shot not the fact that you let your ally blow herself to pieces so you could sit here all smug fucking shoot me like you said Fiyori you're not making the goddamn rules here and






I




can't




keep




holding




this




breath


























Jae exhaled.









He cracked his eyes open to regard the shadow crouching over him. Light hurt. His ears were still ringing from the blast.

"Well?"

What the fuck are you waiting for?
"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."
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Jae stared. If he had been able to properly move his arms, he might have even gone for the knife that was still tucked into his belt, handle digging into his back.

Because, frankly, fuck Fiyori.

"Do I look like I give one baked, naked fuck whether you get any catharsis or not?"
"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."
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Jae's hand twitched towards the knife as Fiyori passed by, but she was gone before he got to it, leaving him seething and staring at the mess before him.

Fuck Fiyori. Fuck her assumption that he cared at all what she thought of him, that she could just toy with him because she felt like it. Fuck her and Brendan, Brendan's girlfriend, Jon, Michael, the assholes who had put him here, and anyone else who thought that they had any say in how Jae was going to live and die.

He wasn't angry, not quite. That flame had well and truly died out, and the almost confused emptiness that remained in its place left Jae doubtful that he would ever feel that consuming, driving rage again. He was definitely resentful, though, and he held onto that. He didn't have much, but he still had good ol' spite, and he had a bag full of weapons that could guarantee that if he saw Fiyori again, she wasn't putting him in the ground on her terms. He would cut his own goddamn throat before he gave her the satisfaction.

Jae's eyes settled on Kimiko properly for the first time.

"Kimiko...?"

She was slumped over, facing away from him. Watching for a few moments longer confirmed that she was no longer breathing. The chances that she survived the explosion had been slim to begin with, and Fiyori doing whatever the hell she had been doing to Kimiko's body more or less confirmed it, but Jae still pushed himself up and away from the door and reached out to shake her shoulder.

Kimiko's head lolled to the side, showing off the shrapnel lodged in her throat and the blood oozing from around it.

Jae let her drop and sank back against the door. There was a gory mess nearby that had once been the other girl, but Jae had no reason or desire to inspect it.

His head was throbbing. It was hard to tell if he had been knocked out or stunned or what. Didn't really matter; it was easier to take stock of the parts of his body that weren't cut up, bruised, or otherwise painful at this point.

There was no sound in the cafeteria except for that of Jae's breathing. Time passed, probably. Last he'd checked, that was one law of nature that was still in working order. He eventually groped for his bag and retrieved his dwindling supply of painkillers, downing them and some water. More time passed and Jae's various aches and pains subsided, just a bit.

He didn't want to get up. If he left, it was almost inevitable that he would run into somebody that he didn't want to see. If anybody left decided that they wanted to see him, they could damn well come in here and get him. He wasn't about to make it easier for them. There was nothing to do except trying to distract himself somehow while waiting for more time to pass.

Jae's eyes fell on the bag again, and he spied the neck of the bottle of Jack Daniel's that he had taken from the pub the previous day. Lifting it from the bag showed that the bottle was surprisingly intact - a little chipped on the bottom, but still good, cushioned from the blast by Jae's body and the other contents of the bag.

...Yeah. That would do.

((Min-jae Parker continued in When I grow up, I want to be Nothing At All))
"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."
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