Joined: June 26th, 2015, 10:56 pm

August 18th, 2016, 9:06 pm #11

Bugs in the bathroom? Poor bastard, Michael was glad he didn't get bathroom duty. Goddamn, Michael hated bugs. He hated spiders most of all, but all bugs are fucking terrible. Well, except honey bees, those are pretty cool, they actually do shit. But shit like mosquitoes and flies could fuck off. Do nothing but spread malaria and get eaten by spiders, which coincidentally, spiders only eat other bugs that do nothing but spread disgusting shit. It's like damn God, couldn't you think of something a bit less redundant? Out of the seven days it took, the one with the bugs must have been his writer's block. Michael wasn't going to ask him about it right now though, he had a long fulfilling life in front of him, regardless of what those gas mask wearing fuck-sticks told him.

The wet plopping noises were getting on his nerves now. There wasn't much good stuff here to use. Most of the bottles were empty, or were so molded that putting it on a cut would cause your dick to rot off. So really, there wasn't good stuff at all, just useless shit. Guess on this one he was SOL. Michael opened the crate next to the shelves.

Well whaddya know. There was still vodka. The edible nail polish remover that people most commonly of Slavic nationality consume. Michael picked up various bottles, before he heard Jerry mention something about a broomstick. "Nah man! I got you a table leg!" Michael called back. "Smaller, and just as good of a hit!" A broomstick was just too long to reliably use. Maybe if we had a kni- oh shit the shock knife! Well... we've got nothing to connect the two. Actually, we don't even need to connect the shock knife! Michael had an axe, he could sharpen that shit! Damn, we might not have guns, but we got enough shit to go Far Cry on some motherfuckers. "Aaaaactually, hold onto that broom for a moment!"

Looking back at the vodka bottles, they were barely empty. Just a shot or two at most if you combined what they all had together. Well, damn. There isn't nothing in here worth dragging along outside of toilet paper and a few improvisational. Yep, he was shit out of luck it seems. Eh, maybe he could use one of the bottles to throw and distract someone? Fuck it, he'll come back later if he has to. Michael closed the box back up.

"Store room's fuckin' empty, wouldn't order the fish and chips here if I were you." Michael walked back into the main room, scratching his head. "I think we got everything here, but if we stay a little longer, I could probably make that broomstick into a damn javelin or some shit; whittle it down to a point, y'know?" In terms of weapons and commodities, they did all right, now it was just a hope of if the first aid kits had enough in them to keep them from dying from tetanus.
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Leaf
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Joined: March 8th, 2015, 2:08 am

August 20th, 2016, 4:18 pm #12

Okay, we got no luck for the bottle, maybe they were empty or moldy. However, they were still bottles, made of glass and sharp when broken, made a lot of sound when thrown and smashed. Though since they lack the precious liquid, Michael didn't take them. They were still useful, he felt like speaking up but Michael still had a fucking axe and he didn't want to be the reason why that he went around cutting people, starting by Jerry. Maybe he should do that later.

They still lack of guns but they found other things that could be considered weapons like a soon-to-be spear and a table leg. He thought about killing someone with one of those thing and it wasn't enjoyable. With a gun at least, it was from far away, you pressed on a trigger then you're done. The person is dead and you're alive.

But with a stick, you'd have to get close, poke someone with it and chances are you wouldn't be done. You'd have to do it a lot of times, repeatedly until their last breath leave their body. You'd have to get bloody, so bloody. Your clothes would be soaked, you'd be covered in dry blood, you'd have some in your mouth. He wasn't ready to do such thing, if he was to play the game, he'd have to wait. Until somebody tries to kill him or while protecting someone, that'd make him a hero, a savior even.

Yes, that'd make him a nice person. Not a killer, not a murderer, not a villain, not a psychopath, not a-

Stop thinking, get to work. He had to figure what was so shocking about his knife and he had to make his broomstick pointy and deadly.

"Okay, so I'd go get the broomstick and the package I've dropped along the way."

He went back into the janitor's closet, founding a trail of compacted packs to it. One, two, and three tissues plastic wrappers left behind. He squeezed them under his elbow and he grabbed the broomstick.

When he went back into the main room, he found Michael still in the same position.

"Okay so here's the broom," he handed it over and he said, "I found some leftovers, I'll go make two piles."

Figuring that knife out would be for another moment.
[+] spoiler
Born underneath a Canadian sky to parents who were quite possibly mounties, Lore roamed the wild unknowns of Quebec, becoming a kickass gamer girl and a sassy action lady. She has both fought a beaver to the death and won several arguments on instagram. Scientists have struggled for years to figure out which is sharper - her wit or Valyrian steel. She is most known outside of SOTF for her portrayal of Yuno Gasai in the anime series The Future Diaries, which she shot for 43 days on-location. She still has the pink hair dye.
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Joined: June 26th, 2015, 10:56 pm

August 20th, 2016, 5:45 pm #13

Jerry handed him the broom. Michael got straight to work.

They were going to make it; at least they are in the early game. Michael summed up their weapons. Two table legs, a shock knife, an axe, and a spear. Nobody who wanted to live would come at them, unless they were really well armed. If someone had a gun, and Michael knew damn well people would, they wouldn't be too scared of them unless Mike and Jerry managed to close the distance quickly. If the gun was semi-automatic, or even bolt action, they'd be screwed if they missed their first shot, and even if they didn't the one not hit would close the distance and utterly facefuck them. Twenty foot rule. A man could close in on someone within 20 feet if they weren't expecting it, and it's turned down to 8 feet if they are expecting it. If they were quick to close the distance, they could down a gunman before he even had drawn.

But there was another problem, if the gun was automatic, a spray and pray could end them both right then and there. No 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts'. You'd be so full of wholes you would be dead before you could even say 'Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto". You might not even be able to finish the "Domo Arigato" part. The only way to beat a machine gun killer would be to catch them off guard. Gang and gank 'em before they knew what happened. If they got a hold of a gun like that, that'd cement their chances to even higher. Maybe even a week.

But there was another problem. Who knew if Jerry would be willing to stick with Michael for the duration of this fucked up show? Hell, Michael couldn't even promise to stick with him, his plan was to find Jonathan, or Darius, or Bradley or some shit. And for all Michael knows, Jerry had similar plans. Even if both of them found their friends and stayed in one large group it just wouldn't work. Too many incompatibilities.

It'd probably be better on Michael's conscious to help Jerry find his crew, before he left to find his own, but what if during the time it took his friends died? If by any chance taking the route Jerry told him when the other one would've led him to his friends. Would Michael be bitter? Would he blame Jerry for causing the deaths of his closest ones? Especially if he could help them had he gone another route. But then would be be able to live with himself if he found his crew and left Jerry on his own. What if Jerry died alone shortly after?

Michael turned the broom and began shaving the next side down with his axe.

Would Jerry even stick with him for that long? There's a chance one of them could be killed before ever reaching anyone's goal. Someone well armed enough to take them on, paranoia, fuck something as simple as saying the wrong thing could start fight to the death now. Might as well speak up about it now. Had to get priorities straight. Have to make sure there is a sense of loyalty in the first place.

"Yo, Jerry, if shit hits the fan and we get attacked..." Just drop the question."Like you gotta fight someone, no running or anything.." No pussyfooting around. "If I had to kill,-I mean we had to, like..."

Man just nut up and say it.

"If we had to kill someone, would you back me up?"

Michael stared at Jerry through his dark sunglasses.
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Leaf
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Joined: March 8th, 2015, 2:08 am

August 21st, 2016, 9:01 pm #14

The chills on his back started to crawl upward.

Like electricity flowing through a cable, his spine conducted the bugs up to his brain, passing through his stomach, lungs, heart, neck, collar, mouth and, finally, reaching their final destination. The bugs spread around his brain, hitting themselves against the skull, knocking cells around and devouring his thoughts. The invaders finally attacked the central command of Jerry starting with the brain stem, eating their way through his fleshy yet so yummy brain. There was a frenzy, then nothing for a second.

He became numb.

They just stayed up there, waiting. They looked through Jerry's eyes, listened through Jerry's ears, felt through Jerry's skin, and they studied. Despite rampaging through his body and sending shocks in every corner of his body, Jerry wasn't dead. He still needs to breath, sleep, eat. But something somewhere changed, whether in his DNA or chemicals in his brain, he became someone else. He was a puppet, the puppet master being those insidious thoughts and the string being his emotions.

For a moment, he zoned out as the words echoed in his head.

He tried to swallow away the bugs, to drown them, to kill them, but they were still there. He killed one and ten were given birth by the echoing voice in his head. No matter what he did or thought about, they still crawled. He felt them crawling in his veins, crawling in his arteries, crawling in his capillaries, crawling and crawling and crawling and crawling and crawling and crawling.

He opened his mouth, the bugs almost escaped, they were craving for that moment, but he sewed his mouth back shut. These thoughts, this pain, this thing inside of him needed to stay there. He needed to contain and lock it in. The urge of vomiting these monsters was becoming unbearable, however. He felt them gathering in his throat, forming a knot, resisting against their host.

They needed to escape to spread their eggs. They had to make sure their spawn will live because they knew their host was dying. Not yet, but one day, he will be. He'll simply fade away, and if they stayed stuck in inside of him, how will the next generation of parasite will exist? Who will spread their deadly traditions? They couldn't stay here forever, they had to find a way out. So they fought, spreading the knot, making it impossible to swallow. They made a stone in his stomach, and Jerry felt like puking it out. They let the mercury flow inside of him, making him heavy and slow. They tied his feet to cement blocks. They gently pushed him toward the ed-

He gave up, and let the flies escape.

"You can count on me."
[+] spoiler
Born underneath a Canadian sky to parents who were quite possibly mounties, Lore roamed the wild unknowns of Quebec, becoming a kickass gamer girl and a sassy action lady. She has both fought a beaver to the death and won several arguments on instagram. Scientists have struggled for years to figure out which is sharper - her wit or Valyrian steel. She is most known outside of SOTF for her portrayal of Yuno Gasai in the anime series The Future Diaries, which she shot for 43 days on-location. She still has the pink hair dye.
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Joined: June 26th, 2015, 10:56 pm

August 21st, 2016, 10:06 pm #15

That was it then. Just like that, no stuttering, no hesitations, no 'if's 'and's or 'but's. This was it. Locked into place, Michael and Jerry were the SOTF Bonnie and Clyde 2015...

Except that they weren't. Michael wasn't going to be the murderer, neither he, nor Jerry.

Michael had to make it clear. He paused on his whittling to take a moment to contemplate. "Alright, listen. You and I both know we wanna see the people we care about.." Good start, good start. "But there is a big fucking problem with that, you feel me?" Michael placed the broom stick to his side. "We're gonna find a lot of people out there, angry, petty, scared, sadistic, you name it."

"All of 'em gonna have one thing in common, they gonna kill; don't matter if they want to live, if they got a grudge, or if they just want to see what it feels like to do it, there's gonna be killers on this island."

Michael always had a thing for the dramatic. It didn't matter if it were a group of mobsters talking about whacking a snitch, the underground resistance planning a last ditch assault against their machine overlords, or the lock and load montage as a rag tag team plans to escape a zombie infected city. One thing they all had in common was that big ass speech right before the climax. Michael'd like to think this speech would be one. He'd also liked to think this was one of his movies. Once you die, scene cut, go to the break room with your friends. Except this wasn't no movie.

"We ain't gonna be players, hunters, bandits, whatever the fuck you call 'em. If someone hits us, we hit back harder, someone raids us, we raid back harder. But we won't be the ones starting shit."

This was honestly a morbid fucking thing to be talking about, there were a lot better conversations he had planned. But it's best to get this shit out of the way now then later.

"If we can get away without anyone dying, then let's do it, but if it's us or them, you and me, we gotta make sure it's them. Make them got, before they get us got, no trusting the fuckers."

He picked up the wooden broomstick, damn he was almost done, he'd probably have been done by now if he didn't stop to be all dramatic and shit.

"Just to make sure we're on the same page, we ain't killing nobody who don't deserve it, okay?" Michael grinned, he was done with the words. Got them out, felt a hell of a lot better.

A bell rang, Michael turned his head. "Must be some people looking for their friends, hope they find 'em...." Speaking of which.

"Hey Jerry, you didn't tell me who you were lookin' out for, by the way." Michael smiled as he whittled. "Any brothers or sisters? Bee-Eff- Eff's maybe?" As Michael thought a bit about Jerry's first impression, he thought about his own. What if he woke up to someone screaming and breaking shit, threatening to sexually assault a camera which all culminates in getting asked to help him kill shit?

Holy fucking shit. Michael just realized that to Jerry, and any other normal person who wouldn't know him, he probably looked bat shit fucking insane out the goddamn membrane.

Michael chuckled, Jerry probably thought it was about the whole friend talk, but Michael just had to laugh at himself a bit. This was a fucking joke. A joke in horrible taste, but damn, his very existence on this island was a joke. Hell there was an asylum on this fucking island right? Christ, the moment anyone left this place they'd be sent to another one back home.

Funny how that works right?

You uhhh, looking for a girlfriend or boyfriend? Maybe both, if you're a bisexual Morman?" Michael chuckled and wagged his eyebrows on delivery. Michael desperately hoped he could at least lower the tension a little bit. The hard part of teaming up was over; and to be honest, Michael wanted to go back to the good old days of five minutes ago, when they were just talking about catching their bearings and wondering where everyone was.
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Leaf
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Joined: March 8th, 2015, 2:08 am

August 24th, 2016, 7:26 pm #16

Jerry laughed softly, at least Michael kept his sense of humor. He calmly answered to the question with a smile drawing in his lips.

There was people he wanted to check up on them, to make sure they were fine, to make sure they were alive. Most of them, however, could handle themselves. There was one girl, in particular he was afraid she wouldn't be able to defend herself, but she was friends with everybody.

Nobody would go on a murdering rampage the first day, so she should be fine

"I'm not looking for anybody in particular, but if we meet our friends, we should try to help them."

He walked toward the door, feeling his weight against the floor. He wondered how old it must be, was there a chance of Michael and Jerry falling through it? That'd be anticlimactic, all this dramatic talk for nothing.

When he reached the door, he looked back to his companion. So that was his ally, and they both agreed to defend each other. That calmed the buzzing inside of him, he felt safe despite the situation. He knew that this feeling won't stay inside of him because only one person could get of this alive, unless someone came to rescue them, but it was the present that really matters.

Not the future.

"Let's go?"

((Jerry Larkins continued elsewhere))
[+] spoiler
Born underneath a Canadian sky to parents who were quite possibly mounties, Lore roamed the wild unknowns of Quebec, becoming a kickass gamer girl and a sassy action lady. She has both fought a beaver to the death and won several arguments on instagram. Scientists have struggled for years to figure out which is sharper - her wit or Valyrian steel. She is most known outside of SOTF for her portrayal of Yuno Gasai in the anime series The Future Diaries, which she shot for 43 days on-location. She still has the pink hair dye.
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Joined: June 26th, 2015, 10:56 pm

August 25th, 2016, 12:36 am #17

This was it then. Moment he walked out that door, reality was gonna come crashing down on them. Of course, waking up on the island was the start of it all happening, but if Mr. Graham's brains getting blown out his nose was the punch in the teeth, waking up was merely the shove, whilst stepping out that door? The curb stomp to end it all. Only question would be if Michael would get up from a blow like that. Probably not said the little voice in his head. Shut up, lil' bitch said the other one.

In a way though, his location, and his new partner were the best things to happen to him for what could be the rest of his life. Getting Jerry to his friends would net him some pretty good karma. Now, you might be a Christian, Atheist, Muslim, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist, whatever. You can't deny this. Karma is a very real thing. It affected everyone, no matter how little or how large. Of course, reflecting on his life, Michael didn't know what he did to deserve all the shit that happened in his early childhood, or getting put on this island for that matter. Maybe in a past life he was some crazy cartel guy with a four wheeler and a machete. Maybe that bullshit story he made in 9th grade of being a really really distant descendant of Genghis Khan was true. Maybe he was the reincarnation Genghis Khan?

Whatever, he's lived a pretty shitty life. This honestly didn't surprise him one bit. It was even better that once everything started getting good he said yes to this damn trip. Stupid stupid stupid. If he has a chance to go back in time, he'd go back and punch himself in the dick until it looked like an eggplant, then go back in time again, slap himself in the face, and tell himself to say no. Also to tell Jon, Darius, Bradley, too. Maybe the others. Maybe not Ben, Blair, or Min Jae though, they can go sit and spin.

Still, rant aside, he needed some good karma for the road. Helping Jerry would be the best way to do it. Maybe help some others and see if his heart grows three times it's size this week. (That's called cardiomyopathy!) Maybe then he'd earn enough to find Jonathan, fuck like bunnies, then die peacefully in his sleep. Or maybe he was so down on the ladder that some pissant he made fun of would shoot his dick off then jam a pencil in his eye. Fuck Bradley by the way, he had to remind himself to slap his shit up for sending him that bloodgarden shit. Fuck liveleak too. Fuck SOTF, fuck karma, fuck all of this shit. He wasn't planning on dying on this island. It was probably still gonna happen, but he wasn't planning on it at least.

"Hey, catch." Michael tossed Jerry the spear. Jerry was gonna need it more than he did. Michael eyed his axe. Damn thing was kickass, better than a gun in his eyes. Well, here we are, beginning of the end of the beginning, or something like that. Moment that door opens, reality was gonna come to push his shit in. He'd like to pretend he wasn't afraid, that he made peace with God, that he'd go out peacefully. Really though, he was frightened. Knees shaking pants pissing frightened. Wouldn't actually do it, too much self-worth, but still, he was pretty close, y'know. After all, dying was gonna hurt like a bitch...

Fuck it. Michael adjusted his sunglasses, and forced his trademark smarmy grin. As the britbongs would say, keep a stiff upper lip or some shit.

((Michael Crowe continued in 70's Horror Movies))
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