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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (71,029 Views) | |
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 26 2015, 02:10 AM Post #706 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli went pale. His stomach dropped. His face fell. It was like everything he was feeling the past few had exploded all at once. All the stress, anxiety, anger, frustration, exasperation, and guilt -- especially the guilt, goddamn it the guilt -- it all fell on him like an anvil, and it left him absolutely flattened. He didn’t speak for a while, he wasn’t sure how long. Once the words had escaped Randall’s mouth, he knew exactly what they must have meant. He realized what could drive a man to follow them for miles and kidnap but not harm two girls. He understood instantly. And he couldn’t be mad anymore. He couldn’t make the anger stir in his belly. Eli knew what this guy was feeling. He felt it too, only days ago, and his reaction was to march into a man’s room and shoot them dead with their hands up. Not a man, a kid, he reminded himself. A scared kid. Eli found himself sitting down beside Randall. He opened his mouth but no words came out. In the jumble that was now his thoughts, he couldn’t form them yet. He thought another minute passed, but maybe it was longer. It felt like longer. “I don’t know what to do,” Eli said. It was cliché, it was unhelpful, it was pointless to say. But it was also the truth. It was the only truth he knew right now. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 26 2015, 02:43 AM Post #707 |
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Is that so?
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Randall didn't know what to say either. It was hard for him too; his daughter had gotten tangled up in all of this. And while he was sure she was safe, it didn't make the separation any easier. After all, she was the only family he had left in the world right now. In a way... he knew just how that guy felt. For a moment, the thought entered his mind. It wouldn't be difficult to turn Eli over for real and get his daughter back safely. It was really the most obvious answer. An eye for an eye. If the roles were reversed, he was pretty sure he would want the same. But then Randall would have to live with the guilt of turning over Eli and signing his death warrant. The death warrant of a friend. Of course he wanted his daughter back, but would he be able to live with himself if he had to kill a friend to do that? He considered the option in his head, but his heart already knew the answer. He didn't have it in him to do that. They needed to find another way. "I don't know..." Randall finally replied. He leaned back a little. "To be honest, as a father, I really considered turning you in. I know it makes me sound like shit, but... I guess some people will become shit for their family." He shook his head slowly and idly looked at his bandaged stump of a hand; he knew there was an Aesop in his last words, but he didn't have the desire to explore it further. Not right now. "But as a friend, I couldn't do it. I'd live the rest of my likely short life haunted by the fact I killed a friend over a mistake. I don't want to kill him, but... if that is the only choice available to me, then I will carry that burden." ********** Willow pulled up a chair beside Brandon and sat down at the table with him. Everyone looked so... dour and defeated. And for good reason. Whoever this guy that had their friends hostage, he was crafty. Too crafty. For all she knew, he could continue to pull at their strings like this. Between the kidnappings and half of the group being injured, it felt like they were falling apart at the seams already. And Chicago still felt so far away. She was seriously beginning to doubt that they would make it. "Willow's not my real name." She told Brandon. She wanted a distraction from all of this. And Glenda had told her to talk to Brandon. So she was going to start exactly where Glenda suggested, for lack of a better place. Considering where this felt like it was headed, now seemed as good a time as any to start. "It's... it's Wilma." She looked at the ground. "Wilma Lowe." |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 26 2015, 03:01 AM Post #708 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli quietly listened to Randall break down his reasoning. It didn’t make him feel better – nothing could, probably. But he appreciated it. He appreciated the honesty and the consideration. He appreciated being called a friend. “I don’t want you to kill him either,” he said. “I think there’s been enough of that.” He kept sitting upright, but looked over at his friend. “I haven’t got a chance to tell you yet that I’m sorry about your hand,” he said. “I’m sorry about your hand.” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 26 2015, 03:11 AM Post #709 |
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Is that so?
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Despite the doom and gloom, the unnecessary repetition of the apology caused Randall to smirk for a second, before it disappeared underneath the gloomy atmosphere again. "I appreciate it. But don't be." Randall held the amputated arm out in front of him. "I'm not sorry for it. It was my idea to go there in the first place, so it's best that I pay for that mistake. At the end of the day, I'm just glad to walk away alive from that ordeal. And I guess we know amputation actually does work." He remembered back to the night at the lodge. When he found out Elaine had been bitten. He suggested cutting the leg off. Neither of them knew if that was actually a viable idea at the time. Turns out it was pretty viable. He really should have cut her leg off back then. "Not the way I wanted to find out, mind you." He added. |
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| Strompy | Mar 26 2015, 03:15 AM Post #710 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Brandon snapped out of his slump as Willow sat down. As she spoke all other thoughts seemed to stop. She held his attention completely. Her name. Wilma Lowe. The grin that spread across his face was as big as it was stupid. He understood where she got her other name from, and immediately understood why she preffered it. Elementary school would have been one long Flinstones joke. He was beaming so much he worried she might think he was just amused. He was amused to an extent, but more than that he was just glad. After that reveal he felt he owed her something in return. He grinned in embarassment as he mustered the will to share his own full name. "Brandon Ferdinand Keenan." he confessed, looking at the table and hiding his face slightly. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 26 2015, 03:23 AM Post #711 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli summoned a smirk in response, and held it for a few moments. Internally, he was coming to a slow realization of what had to be done. Externally, he was happy to keep that realization at bay, for just a while longer. “I kinda wished I picked it up now,” he said. “Your hand, I mean. We could use some levity ‘round here, and think of all the opportunities we're gonna miss for jokes. ‘Lend a hand, I could use a hand, give the man a hand.’ We coulda been breaking that thing out constantly.” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 26 2015, 03:29 AM Post #712 |
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Is that so?
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"Oh, is that the game we're playing now?" Willow retorted. Despite her deadpan tone, she couldn't help but smile too. Half because Brandon housed a stupid grin on his face, which she expected, but also because sharing secrets was kind of fun. It was like giving away a little piece of taboo knowledge and getting one in return. It wasn't like being a kid when you told the stuff to people, they spread it around, and everyone was laughing at you for it the next day. In away... it felt intimate. This must be why Glenda told her to just talk to him. "Wilma Rutherford Lowe." She crossed her arms almost proudly at her terrible name. "Don't ask, I don't know what they were thinking either." ********** Randall stifled a chuckle. They were joking about his missing hand less than a day after the fact, while his daughter was still missing. And he found it funny. He must have been desperate to laugh or glad to be alive. Maybe it was paradoxically both. "You can always go back and pick it up later if you want." Randall shot back. "I'll even come with you to give you a hand in looking for it." |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 26 2015, 03:37 AM Post #713 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“Ho!” Eli remarked, smiling again. His mind drifted and looked from the door to Randall again. He shrugged. “You want to get a drink?” he asked. “One drink?” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 26 2015, 03:45 AM Post #714 |
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Is that so?
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"After the day we've had, I think we deserve more than just one." Randall told him. "But someone's gotta keep the place running." Randall rose unsteadily to his feet. He hadn't realized how hungry he had become. He hadn't eaten since yesterday. Between that and the blood loss, it was no surprise he was so shaky on his feet. He would need to get something in his stomach while he was down there. "I'm not quite steady yet, I might need you to give me a hand down the stairs." He paused. "God dammit, that wasn't even intentional." |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 26 2015, 03:54 AM Post #715 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli laughed out loud that time as he held the door open for Randall. When he was through, he had him wrap an arm around his neck, and walked with him downstairs. When they reached the bar and grill, Eli looked around to see Glenda, Jeff and Maxwell looking depressed at one table, and Jeff and Willow smiling at another. He led Randall towards the first table and pulled out a chair for him, then whistled as loud as he could. “I’m taking drink orders,” he called out, walking back towards the bar. “Willow and Jeff – you’re having waters. Everyone else, call ‘em out.” There were several dirty glasses on the bar. He rushed those aside with his bandaged and retrieved some clean ones, placing them on the bar one by one. |
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| Strompy | Mar 26 2015, 04:18 AM Post #716 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Rutherford!? You win. Any embarassing nicknames to go with it? I was Skid Mark in middle school. Then Bear Shit in high school." he continued. "Scotch! Hold the ice." Brandon called out. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 26 2015, 04:32 AM Post #717 |
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Is that so?
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"I ain't beating around today." Randall started off. "A friend of mine told me had an 'Adios Mother Fucker' and that he loved it. I don't know if you've heard of it, but if you know what goes in it, give it to me. Otherwise, I'll just take a rum, doesn't matter what kind." "I'll pass." Maxwell turned down the offer for a drink. Glenda was trying to ascertain any details she could out of Jeff and Maxwell, but Jeff was too drunk to get any good information out of and Maxwell's story seemed too ludicrous to believe. She did need a drink before she would believe that Maxwell powerbombed a 6'2 'neanderthal' through a table. "Can you do a Rusty Nail?" Glenda followed up. "Haven't had one of those since High School." ********** "I'll take a Zombie!" Willow called out sarcastically. She knew she wasn't going to get it, but the joke needed to be said. Her head was already starting to hurt a little anyway, so it was just as fine that she didn't add any fuel to the fire. "Outside the Flintstones and hardware store jokes? Babe Ruth." She answered Brandon bluntly. "But that one is easy to figure out. Do I even want to know where Skid Mark came from?" |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 26 2015, 04:50 AM Post #718 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“No ice to speak of, so that’ll be easy,” Eli called back to Brandon. “And a Rusty Nail, sans ice, comin’ up for the lady.” He picked a bottle of Scotch and a bottle of Drambuie off the shelf. He poured a little of each into an old fashioned glass, then stirred with a straw. It was the best he could do. He never claimed to be a bartender. In another glass, he poured the Scotch straight. He picked both glasses up and delivered them to Glenda and Brandon respectively. Next, he headed to an unpowered fridge and retrieved a warm water bottle. He poured half into one glass, the other half into another. He made another delivery to both tables. When Eli placed Jeff’s glass in front of him, Jeff looked baffled. Eli couldn’t blame him. He couldn’t exactly explain his behaviour himself. He just didn’t have the energy for angst. Just now, he had made a decision in his mind, and he was feeling oddly liberated by it. And now for Randall. He had no clue what goes into an Adios Mother Fucker – a shit ton of alcohol, he supposed – and it might not be a good idea to get Randall too hammered anyway. Instead, he selected a rum literally off the top shelf and poured him a half-glass. He poured himself the same thing. “For you,” Eli said, taking a seat opposite Randall, and sliding his glass over to him. “That’s some expensive shit, so you better not spill it.” He raised his own glass, then briefly looked around the room and all its occupants. “Cheers,” he called out. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 26 2015, 05:33 AM Post #719 |
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Is that so?
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"Cheers." Randall raised his glass in the air. Glenda gave him a reassuring smile and a nod as their eyes met; in fact, everyone looked a little more cheerful to see Randall back on his feet. There was still a heavy sense of unease in the air, but by being down here with everyone else and having a drink with everyone, the atmosphere felt lightened. It felt difficult to justify drinking while Kels and Julie were still unaccounted for, but Randall needed this. Eli needed this. Everyone needed this. He couldn't afford to drink too much, especially while his stomach was still empty. He drank from the glass slowly to savor the flavor. "Not sure why I didn't think of this earlier." Randall told Eli. "I've been in pain in a bar this whole time and never even considered having a drink." |
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| Strompy | Mar 26 2015, 06:29 AM Post #720 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Brandon took the glass from Eli with a grateful nod. "The reason I was Skid Mark was because after a ball game I found somebody's tighty-whities on my gym bag. I don't know why, but for some reason rather then grabbing my bag and letting them fall to the floor I picked them up by the elastic waistband and flung them in the trash. They had a huge skid mark down the back that I hadn't seen. So being kids, the fact that I even touched them meant I was branded Skid Mark, like I had some obsession with soiled underwear and just couldn't control myself around them." he explained, in a formal informative manner. "It's only the nicknames related to poop that stuck to me for some reason. Nobody ever made fun of my acne or braces; did you see any of my old photos back at my house? I was goofy looking. No just the two times in all my schooling where I was directly or indirectly related to poop." he reflected, bemused, with a sheepish smile. "I think I kind of like Babe Ruth though. Suits you in a way." he said giving Willow a wry smile and downing his drink. "When did you start going by Willow, Wilma?" he asked teasingly. |
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7:30 PM Jul 10