((Steve continued from Sadist))
The rain had not let up all through the sleepless night Steve had wandered through. He trudged onwards only two things on his mind.
Serenity and Gabe, Serenity and Gabe...
Steve finally came once again to the field of flowers, and found a nearby rock. He made his way to it and sat down. He rested his rifle on his daypack and placed his face in his hands.
"What the fuck am I doing here?"
The announcements came on, providing a brief sense of relief that Gabe was not killed. However, the way Danya announced Steve had killed Serenity set Steve's blood to boiling point. The way he had said it like Steve had done it for shits and giggles.
No. God damn it, she was dying. You did the right thing. She wasn't going to survive. Not with her wounds. No matter what, you wouldn't have been able to save her. She would have been a liability.
"Don't fucking try and justify it to yourself." Steve snarled at himself. He looked up at the rising sun, a few trickles of tears still in his eyes.
I need Gabe here. I need him more than ever to be here right now, and hes not. He is out there right now, more than likely going to get himself killed, and I can't do a damn thing about it. Why us? Why did it have to be our class? Was it because of Adam Dodd?
"No, don't blame him for this Steve-o. There is no one to blame besides Danya and his cronies." Steve whispered.
The sun continued to rise into the sky as Steve scanned the area he'd already been in. He could see the tiny outline of two bodies on the far side of the field, the area where he'd almost been killed by James Brown earlier. Steve thought back on it, and realized he was truly lucky that he'd been only grazed on his shoulder by James' onslaught, and wondered if James' had come off of whatever he was on that day. There was so much shit going on on the island, and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do. Steve knew that it truly was going to come down to the last person still breathing. Steve reached down into his daypack and pulled out the package of Twinkies from the food sack his mom had thrown in his backpack for his trip. Munching on the first of the three Twinkies, Steve thought back to the people at home.
Heh...mom, dad, Jen. God I miss you guys so much. I'd give anything to be back, having a nice family dinner. Listening to Dad's work stories, Mom's gossip...
The tears that had subsided, returned to Steve's eyes as he pictured his family on the couch in their living room, watching him sit on this rock in the middle of nowhere eating a twinkie.
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((Dorian continued from Long Road To Ruin))
The morning had set in, and the day was getting lighter, but the rain hadn't eased up, and Dorian's mood had definitely not improved. He was carting around a stolen gun he had only a basic idea of how to use and no intention of using, his shin was stinging with the pain from the bullet graze, and he had still not gotten over what Julie Mikan, player and prize bitch, had told him at the marsh.
Fucking bitch. What the fuck does she think she's fucking playing at? Fucking playing...christ, can't she see that if she doesn't fucking kill anyone, and no-one else fucking kills anyone, we'll all fucking live because Danya won't be able to sustain the fucking ratings and he'll have no reason to fucking kill us once the show's cancelled? Christ, she did not deserve this fucking weapon. If only I could fucking get rid of the shitty thi...
"Oh. I like this."
Dorian had just stumbled upon a sprawling field of beautiful flowers. Reds, yellows, pinks, greens, purples and yellows and blues - Dorian could see a rainbow, see a rainbow, see a rainbow too.
Of course, this rainbow wasn't what was on Dorian's mind. He'd just worked out what he perceived to be the perfect plan for saving everyone. And he was convinced it would work.
We get rid of all the fucking weapons. Throw them in the sea. Brilliant plan. Excellent plan.
Dorian snapped out of the trance the plan had set him in just long enough to notice the figure of a large guy in the middle of the field, sitting on a rock, eating something. He didn't look armed...but looks could be deceiving.
What if he got given the heat-seeking barracuda and he's hiding it?
Dorian walked up behind him, gun at ready. When he got closer, he started making out features.
Steve Diag...Digag...Digadiga...Doogitakadoby...Digaento, that's it. Okay then.
Dorian knew of Steve. Pretty level-headed guy, surprising for a football player, and had been helpful when Dorian had interviewed him last year on the Southridge team's football season. He'd heard Steve's name on the announcements earlier, and he found it hard to believe Steve had killed his own girlfriend - someone Dorian also knew of, and the relationship wasn't exactly secret. He'll probably be sweet. Grieving or something.
Dorian walked up behind Steve, his gun in a position where it would be ready if Steve got all trigger-happy. Then, at a distance where his voice would be balanced enough to not be considered a yell - The Dodd kid was right about that being stupid, I guess - he spoke.
"Steve Digaento? Dorian Sanders, Southridge High News. Could I ask you a few questions? I'm not playing, by the way."
The morning had set in, and the day was getting lighter, but the rain hadn't eased up, and Dorian's mood had definitely not improved. He was carting around a stolen gun he had only a basic idea of how to use and no intention of using, his shin was stinging with the pain from the bullet graze, and he had still not gotten over what Julie Mikan, player and prize bitch, had told him at the marsh.
Fucking bitch. What the fuck does she think she's fucking playing at? Fucking playing...christ, can't she see that if she doesn't fucking kill anyone, and no-one else fucking kills anyone, we'll all fucking live because Danya won't be able to sustain the fucking ratings and he'll have no reason to fucking kill us once the show's cancelled? Christ, she did not deserve this fucking weapon. If only I could fucking get rid of the shitty thi...
"Oh. I like this."
Dorian had just stumbled upon a sprawling field of beautiful flowers. Reds, yellows, pinks, greens, purples and yellows and blues - Dorian could see a rainbow, see a rainbow, see a rainbow too.
Of course, this rainbow wasn't what was on Dorian's mind. He'd just worked out what he perceived to be the perfect plan for saving everyone. And he was convinced it would work.
We get rid of all the fucking weapons. Throw them in the sea. Brilliant plan. Excellent plan.
Dorian snapped out of the trance the plan had set him in just long enough to notice the figure of a large guy in the middle of the field, sitting on a rock, eating something. He didn't look armed...but looks could be deceiving.
What if he got given the heat-seeking barracuda and he's hiding it?
Dorian walked up behind him, gun at ready. When he got closer, he started making out features.
Steve Diag...Digag...Digadiga...Doogitakadoby...Digaento, that's it. Okay then.
Dorian knew of Steve. Pretty level-headed guy, surprising for a football player, and had been helpful when Dorian had interviewed him last year on the Southridge team's football season. He'd heard Steve's name on the announcements earlier, and he found it hard to believe Steve had killed his own girlfriend - someone Dorian also knew of, and the relationship wasn't exactly secret. He'll probably be sweet. Grieving or something.
Dorian walked up behind Steve, his gun in a position where it would be ready if Steve got all trigger-happy. Then, at a distance where his voice would be balanced enough to not be considered a yell - The Dodd kid was right about that being stupid, I guess - he spoke.
"Steve Digaento? Dorian Sanders, Southridge High News. Could I ask you a few questions? I'm not playing, by the way."
The voice snapped Steve out his trance, and he instantly spun on the spot, gun at the ready. Once he saw it was Dorian, he lowered his gun. He could tell by Dorian's tone, that he was trying to lighten the mood, but it just wasn't working.
"Heh, as much as I appreciate you trying to boost my spirits I don't think its going to work man. I'm sure you heard I shot Serenity, and its got me completely messed up. Like she was dying and asked me to end her pain and I did. Whether people believe it or not is up to them, but I've royally fucked myself now haven't I? Some of the people on this island hear a name on the announcements as having killed someone, and they automatically add that person to a target list. Hows that for a news report?" Steve said almost monotonously.
"Heh, as much as I appreciate you trying to boost my spirits I don't think its going to work man. I'm sure you heard I shot Serenity, and its got me completely messed up. Like she was dying and asked me to end her pain and I did. Whether people believe it or not is up to them, but I've royally fucked myself now haven't I? Some of the people on this island hear a name on the announcements as having killed someone, and they automatically add that person to a target list. Hows that for a news report?" Steve said almost monotonously.
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Steve sounded defeated, depressed. Fair enough, what he's had to deal with. Dorian smiled weakly.
"Dude, everyone knew you and Serenity were...well, I'd say 'meant to be', but that sounds so Disney. Let's just say it'd take a sick fuck to think you killed her because you wanted to. I feel for your loss, man. Nobody should ever have to kill the person they love, and you, of all people, did not deserve this shit."
Dorian shifted his weight and looked at Steve.
"Anyway, I think I have an idea to stop all the death. Want in? I might need someone of your reputation and...stature to help."
"Dude, everyone knew you and Serenity were...well, I'd say 'meant to be', but that sounds so Disney. Let's just say it'd take a sick fuck to think you killed her because you wanted to. I feel for your loss, man. Nobody should ever have to kill the person they love, and you, of all people, did not deserve this shit."
Dorian shifted his weight and looked at Steve.
"Anyway, I think I have an idea to stop all the death. Want in? I might need someone of your reputation and...stature to help."
((Continued from Blood, Sweat, and Tears))
Time had not been kind to Viki Valentine. Once she'd left the storehouse and headed out to the jungle, she'd gotten lost, nearly breaking her ankle after having rolled down a hill that came from practically nowhere. Thankfully, she'd only gotten scraped up a bit and had simply brushed herself off, but, unfortunately, she'd managed to lose Evan somewhere between the storehouse and wherever she might have been now. That was, perhaps, the worst thing of all, because it meant that at that particular moment, Viki was completely alone.
Her raven-colored hair plastered itself to the sides of her face as she continued her slow trek through the rain, and she absent-mindedly brushed away the loose strands stuck to her forehead every few minutes. The rain was still coming down hard, and it was difficult to think about anything aside from how cold she was. Or maybe, it was that being cold was the least of her problems. She was lost, alone, and completely weaponless, having been all but forced to abandon the fire extinguisher she'd been issued several days prior when Gabe had hoisted her up and went running away from the hospital.
Gabe...
She'd lost everyone in the group she'd been traveling with. Gabe. Ianto. Serenity. Evan. Steve. Overall, it was definitely not a comforting thought. The only bit of solace she'd been given had been in the announcement when Danya had confirmed that the majority of her friends were still alive out there... except, one wasn't. One had gone off and gotten themselves killed. Her close friend and co-worker, Serenity Halos, had been offed by none other than Steve Digaetano. Now, Serenity and Steve had had their share of problems. Viki had heard most of the stories from Serenity. Overall, though, the two seemed happy together... so she had almost immediately discounted Steve killing Serenity out of spite.
Steve... he wasn't capable of doing something like that. Not to anyone, but especially not to her. Of that fact, Viki was certain.
Finally, the seemingly endless foliage of the jungle gave way to light... well, some sort of light, at least. The sky was still a dark gray and the rainclouds were still rolling overhead, but it was nice to see something other than trees at last. As she exited the jungle, she stopped for a moment, in awe of the sprawling meadow that lay before her. Vibrant flowers of every size, shape, and color littered the ground, and the very scene seemed so out of place on an island full of death. It provided her with some kind of relief, but the real relief Viki would find came in a different form.
Make that two, to be exact.
She hadn't know Dorian Sanders all that well, per say, just enough to learn his name. It didn't matter, really. Dorian wasn't the one she was concerned about. There, sitting on a nearby rock, was none other than Steve Digaetano. A faint smile formed on the corners of her lips as she slowly made her way toward the two figures. They were both talking quietly, which was definitely a relief in her eyes. It was far better to stumble upon a peaceful scene than a violent one, after all.
Much to Viki's dismay, Gabe didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. She had been hoping that by the time she found Steve, he'd have found Gabe. Still, the fact that one of them was okay was a bit of a load off. As the thought exited her mind, Viki suddenly felt very awkward. Steve had been through a lot since he'd been separated from herself and Evan. What was she supposed to say to him? He had to kill Serenity with his own two hands. He probably wasn't going to be in much of a "chummy" mood... not after having gone through that, and so recently, too.
"Steve..." Viki called out quietly as she approached the two boys, "I... I'm sorry. I'm so... so sorry."
Time had not been kind to Viki Valentine. Once she'd left the storehouse and headed out to the jungle, she'd gotten lost, nearly breaking her ankle after having rolled down a hill that came from practically nowhere. Thankfully, she'd only gotten scraped up a bit and had simply brushed herself off, but, unfortunately, she'd managed to lose Evan somewhere between the storehouse and wherever she might have been now. That was, perhaps, the worst thing of all, because it meant that at that particular moment, Viki was completely alone.
Her raven-colored hair plastered itself to the sides of her face as she continued her slow trek through the rain, and she absent-mindedly brushed away the loose strands stuck to her forehead every few minutes. The rain was still coming down hard, and it was difficult to think about anything aside from how cold she was. Or maybe, it was that being cold was the least of her problems. She was lost, alone, and completely weaponless, having been all but forced to abandon the fire extinguisher she'd been issued several days prior when Gabe had hoisted her up and went running away from the hospital.
Gabe...
She'd lost everyone in the group she'd been traveling with. Gabe. Ianto. Serenity. Evan. Steve. Overall, it was definitely not a comforting thought. The only bit of solace she'd been given had been in the announcement when Danya had confirmed that the majority of her friends were still alive out there... except, one wasn't. One had gone off and gotten themselves killed. Her close friend and co-worker, Serenity Halos, had been offed by none other than Steve Digaetano. Now, Serenity and Steve had had their share of problems. Viki had heard most of the stories from Serenity. Overall, though, the two seemed happy together... so she had almost immediately discounted Steve killing Serenity out of spite.
Steve... he wasn't capable of doing something like that. Not to anyone, but especially not to her. Of that fact, Viki was certain.
Finally, the seemingly endless foliage of the jungle gave way to light... well, some sort of light, at least. The sky was still a dark gray and the rainclouds were still rolling overhead, but it was nice to see something other than trees at last. As she exited the jungle, she stopped for a moment, in awe of the sprawling meadow that lay before her. Vibrant flowers of every size, shape, and color littered the ground, and the very scene seemed so out of place on an island full of death. It provided her with some kind of relief, but the real relief Viki would find came in a different form.
Make that two, to be exact.
She hadn't know Dorian Sanders all that well, per say, just enough to learn his name. It didn't matter, really. Dorian wasn't the one she was concerned about. There, sitting on a nearby rock, was none other than Steve Digaetano. A faint smile formed on the corners of her lips as she slowly made her way toward the two figures. They were both talking quietly, which was definitely a relief in her eyes. It was far better to stumble upon a peaceful scene than a violent one, after all.
Much to Viki's dismay, Gabe didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. She had been hoping that by the time she found Steve, he'd have found Gabe. Still, the fact that one of them was okay was a bit of a load off. As the thought exited her mind, Viki suddenly felt very awkward. Steve had been through a lot since he'd been separated from herself and Evan. What was she supposed to say to him? He had to kill Serenity with his own two hands. He probably wasn't going to be in much of a "chummy" mood... not after having gone through that, and so recently, too.
"Steve..." Viki called out quietly as she approached the two boys, "I... I'm sorry. I'm so... so sorry."
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((Start: Shawn Waits))
"I got a bad liver and a broken heart..."
He had survived for the last days purely by luck and by staying in the maze that was the jungle almost like some sort of guerilla fighter, using the scythe that the powers that be had blessed him with to cut through brush and pretty much just staying away from any violence or sounds and it was only now that he had come across people. His voice, the one singing at the moment, was an oddity and it sounded as if someone had drank an entire keg of beer by himself, smoked a pack of cigarettes, swallowed razor blades, and hadn't slept for an entire week.
Guess which one of those statements weren't true.
"Well, I drunk me a river since you tore me a part," he smirked as he took a drink from the warm beer in his hand, "I ain't got a drinkin' problem, unless I can't get a drink, I wish you'd a known her we where quite the pair, she was sharp as a razor and soft as a prayer."
And that's when he approached the group standing in the middle of the field, a girl, moderately attractive. Nothing out of this world, but fuckable, Steve DiGeanto, the resident: Derrick with the Letterman jacket, and...well whomever the fuck was following them, Shawn admitted to not necessarily being in the right state of mind. He was in that lucid state of drunkenness, enough to be aware and almost completely competent, but he walked with a strange stumble to his step and a lazy smile on his face.
"So welcome to the continuing saga, she was my better half, and I was just a dog", he paused, "And so here am I slumped, I've been chipped and I've been chumped on my stool . So buy this fool some spirits and libations, it's these railroad station bars. And all these conductors and porters, and I'm all out of quarters."
He stared at the group, took a large swig from his bottle and let it crash emptily on the floor, making a large thunk in the field.
"Bad Liver and a Broken Heart, Tom Waits, off the Small Change album," he smiled a bit, "Used to say no one knew the blues like good ol' Tom, then I got in this situation...hell I bet all of us could write a good blues album now," he sighed a bit, "Names Shawn Waits, no relation to Tom, anyway, I've kept outta this kids game for awhile now...been going through the loops of heroin deprivation, seriously it's a hella drug," he spit to the ground as he pulled out a cigarette, "Smoke? Nah fuck it none of you seem the type, anyway, none of y'all are playin' right? Heck, it'd be a cruel twist of fate for the first people I've talked to in...how many days? Ah fuck it doesn't really matter really, just the first people I've talked to in awhile to wanna kill me, eh?"
He took a drag from his cigarette.
"I hear it happens a lot though, people gettin' killed by the first ones they meet I mean."
"I got a bad liver and a broken heart..."
He had survived for the last days purely by luck and by staying in the maze that was the jungle almost like some sort of guerilla fighter, using the scythe that the powers that be had blessed him with to cut through brush and pretty much just staying away from any violence or sounds and it was only now that he had come across people. His voice, the one singing at the moment, was an oddity and it sounded as if someone had drank an entire keg of beer by himself, smoked a pack of cigarettes, swallowed razor blades, and hadn't slept for an entire week.
Guess which one of those statements weren't true.
"Well, I drunk me a river since you tore me a part," he smirked as he took a drink from the warm beer in his hand, "I ain't got a drinkin' problem, unless I can't get a drink, I wish you'd a known her we where quite the pair, she was sharp as a razor and soft as a prayer."
And that's when he approached the group standing in the middle of the field, a girl, moderately attractive. Nothing out of this world, but fuckable, Steve DiGeanto, the resident: Derrick with the Letterman jacket, and...well whomever the fuck was following them, Shawn admitted to not necessarily being in the right state of mind. He was in that lucid state of drunkenness, enough to be aware and almost completely competent, but he walked with a strange stumble to his step and a lazy smile on his face.
"So welcome to the continuing saga, she was my better half, and I was just a dog", he paused, "And so here am I slumped, I've been chipped and I've been chumped on my stool . So buy this fool some spirits and libations, it's these railroad station bars. And all these conductors and porters, and I'm all out of quarters."
He stared at the group, took a large swig from his bottle and let it crash emptily on the floor, making a large thunk in the field.
"Bad Liver and a Broken Heart, Tom Waits, off the Small Change album," he smiled a bit, "Used to say no one knew the blues like good ol' Tom, then I got in this situation...hell I bet all of us could write a good blues album now," he sighed a bit, "Names Shawn Waits, no relation to Tom, anyway, I've kept outta this kids game for awhile now...been going through the loops of heroin deprivation, seriously it's a hella drug," he spit to the ground as he pulled out a cigarette, "Smoke? Nah fuck it none of you seem the type, anyway, none of y'all are playin' right? Heck, it'd be a cruel twist of fate for the first people I've talked to in...how many days? Ah fuck it doesn't really matter really, just the first people I've talked to in awhile to wanna kill me, eh?"
He took a drag from his cigarette.
"I hear it happens a lot though, people gettin' killed by the first ones they meet I mean."
Steve had been about to respond to Dorian when Viki had showed up. She immediately brought up how sorry she was. The frustration had finally boiled to the rim of Steve's metaphorical pot. Everyone was sorry, but they didn't know shit. They were sorry for something they had no clue about.
"Look, I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me," Steve replied in a cold tone, "Whether its you, Gabe or Dorian here. Look at where people feeling sorry for him got Gabe. I cannot end up like him Viki. I can't lose it like that. Not to mention the fact that there are probably people who are going to see me and shoot first, ask questions after. So please, please don't be sorry for me. I know that I didn't kill Serenity maliciously and thats that."
Steve rose, grabbed his rifle and shouldered it. He looked up at the sky which was still raining down upon them.
"Dorian here was about to tell me about his plan before you came along, so I suggest we take a listen, and we'll go from there," Steve turned to look Dorian in the eye, "But, I'm not doing anything until I've found my friend, understand?"
Before Dorian could respond, a figure appeared before them. Shawn Waits.
"Oh fucking lovely." Steve muttered. It was well known that Shawn was a fan of pretty much the rockstar lifestyle. Drugs, booze and everything in between. He gave them all a somewhat drunken spiel.
"Dorian, Viki get over here," Steve said motioning for the pair to come towards him, away from Shawn, "You're right though Shawn, it would be a damn shame wouldn't it? Problem is, I've had, lets say a rough past couple of hours, and I'm not in the mood for any bullshit. So kindly state what the fuck you want or move it on somewhere else."
"Look, I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me," Steve replied in a cold tone, "Whether its you, Gabe or Dorian here. Look at where people feeling sorry for him got Gabe. I cannot end up like him Viki. I can't lose it like that. Not to mention the fact that there are probably people who are going to see me and shoot first, ask questions after. So please, please don't be sorry for me. I know that I didn't kill Serenity maliciously and thats that."
Steve rose, grabbed his rifle and shouldered it. He looked up at the sky which was still raining down upon them.
"Dorian here was about to tell me about his plan before you came along, so I suggest we take a listen, and we'll go from there," Steve turned to look Dorian in the eye, "But, I'm not doing anything until I've found my friend, understand?"
Before Dorian could respond, a figure appeared before them. Shawn Waits.
"Oh fucking lovely." Steve muttered. It was well known that Shawn was a fan of pretty much the rockstar lifestyle. Drugs, booze and everything in between. He gave them all a somewhat drunken spiel.
"Dorian, Viki get over here," Steve said motioning for the pair to come towards him, away from Shawn, "You're right though Shawn, it would be a damn shame wouldn't it? Problem is, I've had, lets say a rough past couple of hours, and I'm not in the mood for any bullshit. So kindly state what the fuck you want or move it on somewhere else."
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After a walk that had appeared to have taken forever, and a tranquil moment of drawn-out peace as Dorian and Steve quietly talked, the next few minutes sped past. Dorian could see Steve was just about to reply to his proposal when a girl's voice had called out. Dorian had spun around, startled, his gun suddenly up and pointed at Viki Valentine. Dorian had known Viki enough to know she wasn't the type to kill or even graze unintentionally, and he suddenly felt ashamed at his pointing the gun at her. He lowered it and smiled weakly at her as she apologised to Steve for something. Serenity's death, probly.
Steve had gotten frosty on them, telling them not to feel sorry for him. Well, at least he's not telling us to go take a fucking hike because we don't know what it's like to kill a friend...fuck, we're all going to be in that position so...no, NO, we're not. Not if I can help it.
Dorian had been stuck in his own inner monologue and only began noticing Steve again when Steve mentioned his name. He looked up at him, and Steve turned to look him directly in the eye. Dorian shrunk back a little. It wasn't just that Steve was naturally intimidating. There was something in his eyes - Determination? Bloodlust? Depression? Anger? - that scared him. Dorian was suddenly unsure of Steve, something he knew he shouldn't be.
"But, I'm not doing anything until I've found my friend, understand?"
Dorian went to agree and lay out the epic super-special brilliant master plan, but before he could, a drunken, slovenly wreck of a student, singing Tom Waits incoherently and grinning inanely with a cigarette in his mouth, interrupted the party.
"Oh, fucking hell..."
Dorian knew of Shawn Waits. He knew him all too well. The kid was a tumour - drawling, ne'er-do-well, chemical-dependent, graduating in not giving a shit - Dorian knew exactly why he didn't like him, even if Shawn hadn't done anything to him personally. He made the school look like crap, he made everyone around him look like crap. He was almost single-handedly responsible for a number of the jokes about Southridge and drugs his friends kept busting out.
And Dorian knew to take him on now would make him a liability to the plan. Drugs and drug withdrawal do strange things to a man - he'd seen Ray and Requiem For A Dream, he knew what happened. And Dorian didn't want a person doing strange things involved in a plan that involved lots of weapons.
"Dorian, Viki get over here," Steve said tersely. Dorian backed up, his gun pointed at Shawn.
Dorian never thought he'd think this, but he wasn't ashamed to be pointing the gun at Shawn.
Steve had gotten frosty on them, telling them not to feel sorry for him. Well, at least he's not telling us to go take a fucking hike because we don't know what it's like to kill a friend...fuck, we're all going to be in that position so...no, NO, we're not. Not if I can help it.
Dorian had been stuck in his own inner monologue and only began noticing Steve again when Steve mentioned his name. He looked up at him, and Steve turned to look him directly in the eye. Dorian shrunk back a little. It wasn't just that Steve was naturally intimidating. There was something in his eyes - Determination? Bloodlust? Depression? Anger? - that scared him. Dorian was suddenly unsure of Steve, something he knew he shouldn't be.
"But, I'm not doing anything until I've found my friend, understand?"
Dorian went to agree and lay out the epic super-special brilliant master plan, but before he could, a drunken, slovenly wreck of a student, singing Tom Waits incoherently and grinning inanely with a cigarette in his mouth, interrupted the party.
"Oh, fucking hell..."
Dorian knew of Shawn Waits. He knew him all too well. The kid was a tumour - drawling, ne'er-do-well, chemical-dependent, graduating in not giving a shit - Dorian knew exactly why he didn't like him, even if Shawn hadn't done anything to him personally. He made the school look like crap, he made everyone around him look like crap. He was almost single-handedly responsible for a number of the jokes about Southridge and drugs his friends kept busting out.
And Dorian knew to take him on now would make him a liability to the plan. Drugs and drug withdrawal do strange things to a man - he'd seen Ray and Requiem For A Dream, he knew what happened. And Dorian didn't want a person doing strange things involved in a plan that involved lots of weapons.
"Dorian, Viki get over here," Steve said tersely. Dorian backed up, his gun pointed at Shawn.
Dorian never thought he'd think this, but he wasn't ashamed to be pointing the gun at Shawn.
"What I want? Chill out kid, this ain't one of your big football games, for all y'know I could think I'm the grim reaper or some shit and go and attack ya," he smirked a bit, "On some real shit, what do I want? I want what all of us want, to get off this fuckin' island, really, eh...killin' folks, that shits easy once you get the hang of it, but not my cup of tea, really."
He took a rather spirited drag from his cigarette before flicking it towards the ground and then reaching into his pocket and pulling out a nice metal flask and taking a large sip from it before of course inverting it completely to get whatever last remains would be there, Shawn of course was extremely disappointed to realize that there was no more Sambuca left within his flask and while he let out a partially theatrical sigh he couldn't help but embellish.
"As far as withdrawals and shit, only thing I'm particularly withdrawed from right now is pussy, but eh, you got uh...eh, I feel like being kind today, I'll say a six? Yeah, she's six material, I mean, I don't mean to sound pretentious, I myself have never done a ten. I however have done five twos in one night, so maybe it all balances out, maybe.", he shook his head, "Eh...but really Steve my man I can sympathize, I mean even though there was a lot of rumors flyin' about that your girlfriend was fucking Paul on the side and even though there where an equal amount of rumors flying around that you got to first base with Courtney Smlage or whateverthefuck, it's a pity to see people you've been inside die."
He brought out a small syringe filled with a yellowish liquid and what appeared to be a plastic snake.
"But, on some real shit, do you think you could wrap this toy snake around my arm and pull it as tight as you can, I'd do it myself, but I forgot to wear socks today and this is a nice shirt I don't want to ruin, so yeah, just you helpin' me'll be greatly appreciated," he paused, "Fine, fine,fine if you don't want to aid in my habit or some other moralistic garbage, could you arrange for a train to be run? I mean, we're all gonna die anyway right?"
He scoffed a bit.
"Nah, you're probably too boring for that shit too, anyways, what I really wanted was some folks to talk to, maybe get a good nights sleep, I've been traversing the jungle for the last couple days and you guys are really the first people I've seen...it's a relief, even if y'all are a couple of dicks.", he put the syringe and garden snake back into his bag, "Really."
He took a rather spirited drag from his cigarette before flicking it towards the ground and then reaching into his pocket and pulling out a nice metal flask and taking a large sip from it before of course inverting it completely to get whatever last remains would be there, Shawn of course was extremely disappointed to realize that there was no more Sambuca left within his flask and while he let out a partially theatrical sigh he couldn't help but embellish.
"As far as withdrawals and shit, only thing I'm particularly withdrawed from right now is pussy, but eh, you got uh...eh, I feel like being kind today, I'll say a six? Yeah, she's six material, I mean, I don't mean to sound pretentious, I myself have never done a ten. I however have done five twos in one night, so maybe it all balances out, maybe.", he shook his head, "Eh...but really Steve my man I can sympathize, I mean even though there was a lot of rumors flyin' about that your girlfriend was fucking Paul on the side and even though there where an equal amount of rumors flying around that you got to first base with Courtney Smlage or whateverthefuck, it's a pity to see people you've been inside die."
He brought out a small syringe filled with a yellowish liquid and what appeared to be a plastic snake.
"But, on some real shit, do you think you could wrap this toy snake around my arm and pull it as tight as you can, I'd do it myself, but I forgot to wear socks today and this is a nice shirt I don't want to ruin, so yeah, just you helpin' me'll be greatly appreciated," he paused, "Fine, fine,fine if you don't want to aid in my habit or some other moralistic garbage, could you arrange for a train to be run? I mean, we're all gonna die anyway right?"
He scoffed a bit.
"Nah, you're probably too boring for that shit too, anyways, what I really wanted was some folks to talk to, maybe get a good nights sleep, I've been traversing the jungle for the last couple days and you guys are really the first people I've seen...it's a relief, even if y'all are a couple of dicks.", he put the syringe and garden snake back into his bag, "Really."
'..I mean even though there was a lot of rumors flyin' about that your girlfriend was fucking Paul on the side..'
The words rang through Steve's head like a church bell, but he kept listening. Waiting to see if the asshole before him gave him any more excuse to shoot at him.
"How dare you say that about Serenity, true or not, nobody, not you, not Viki, not anyone talks about her like that." Steve growled as he pointed his rifle at Shawn's head.
The son of a bitch thinks he can talk about anyone and everyone that way, piece of shit.
"I can guarantee you there is no way in hell any of us is helping you, or letting you stay with us, and if you think I'm bluffing, take another step towards us. I will shoot you right in that big fucking mouth of yours. I just don't care anymore. I had to kill someone I loved, in front of people that I know. Now I'll be honest, it really fucking hurts me inside, but after going through that, shooting someone like you, a hemorrhoid on the asshole of life, I won't feel a damn thing."
The adrenaline was flowing through Steve's body. He knew Viki would be mortified, and that Dorian probably would turn his gun on him if he shot Shawn, but so what. He had just had enough of these people, and this game.
"So you have two choices you asshole. Turn around and walk the fuck the other way, or take a step forward and get shot. Up to you, though I really hope you walk this way so I can do everyone a favour."
The words rang through Steve's head like a church bell, but he kept listening. Waiting to see if the asshole before him gave him any more excuse to shoot at him.
"How dare you say that about Serenity, true or not, nobody, not you, not Viki, not anyone talks about her like that." Steve growled as he pointed his rifle at Shawn's head.
The son of a bitch thinks he can talk about anyone and everyone that way, piece of shit.
"I can guarantee you there is no way in hell any of us is helping you, or letting you stay with us, and if you think I'm bluffing, take another step towards us. I will shoot you right in that big fucking mouth of yours. I just don't care anymore. I had to kill someone I loved, in front of people that I know. Now I'll be honest, it really fucking hurts me inside, but after going through that, shooting someone like you, a hemorrhoid on the asshole of life, I won't feel a damn thing."
The adrenaline was flowing through Steve's body. He knew Viki would be mortified, and that Dorian probably would turn his gun on him if he shot Shawn, but so what. He had just had enough of these people, and this game.
"So you have two choices you asshole. Turn around and walk the fuck the other way, or take a step forward and get shot. Up to you, though I really hope you walk this way so I can do everyone a favour."
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.
((Sorry for the craptastic post. Headache.))
Viki certainly hadn't expect the short tirade Steve went on about how nobody should feel "sorry" for him. Of course, she immediately regretted saying it, but really, what else was there to say? Sorry didn't seem like enough in that situation, but it was easy to tell that Steve was trying to hold himself together. Sympathies weren't something he was looking for at the moment. He was simply trying to work through the anguish for himself. Viki had been fortunate enough not to lose anybody so near and dear on the island... not yet, anyway. She couldn't imagine how Steve must have felt at that very moment.
There wasn't much time to think about it before Steve's attention returned to Dorian and he agreed to go along with his "plan", but not before finding Gabe. Hearing that statement was a bit of a relief to Viki. It wasn't that she was unhappy that she'd found Steve by any means, it was just... finding Gabe seemed more important now. How stupid, she thought to herself, for her to be chasing a guy around the island that probably didn't even see her as more than a friend.
But there's really no "probably", is there, Vik? He had Kara... he wasn't looking at you.
Viki sighed quietly, gently pushing a piece of rain-drenched hair away from her face for the umpteenth time.
The sound of a voice singing caught Viki's attention, and her head turned to meet the newcomer that had... for lack of a better word staggered into the field. Steve warned them to get close to him, and Viki found herself happily obliging as she looked at the figure. She couldn't place a name with his face, although she probably should have been able to. Viki had never chosen to run with his "crowd", and for good reason. She wasn't a druggie. Never had been.
Shaun opening his mouth and rambling on about her didn't win him any favors in her eyes. Rather than saying anything to the potentially hostile figure, though, Viki simply rolled her eyes in mild annoyance. His opinion about her hardly mattered, but when he popped off about Serenity messing around with Paul Smith on the side, Viki cringed. Paul had been in the restaurant a few times, and yeah, Serenity had been flirting with him, but she was a waitress, after all. She worked for tips. The whole point was to make yourself as appealing to your customer as possible, and when it came to Paul... well, he liked women, plain and simple.
And maybe she'd mentioned him being cute once or twice.
But for God's sakes, she'd just died, and Steve had been the one forced to kill her, no less. What this really the time or place to be bringing up such trivial matters? It didn't even matter anymore. Most of those people were dead and gone. What was the point in re-opening fresh wounds?
When Steve responded by pointing his gun at Shaun, Viki couldn't even say she was really surprised. Rather than trying to stop him, though, she simply looked the other way, closing her eyes tightly for the slaughter that was probably about to ensue. After all the things he'd just said, did this guy really think they were going to let him join up with them?
Viki certainly hadn't expect the short tirade Steve went on about how nobody should feel "sorry" for him. Of course, she immediately regretted saying it, but really, what else was there to say? Sorry didn't seem like enough in that situation, but it was easy to tell that Steve was trying to hold himself together. Sympathies weren't something he was looking for at the moment. He was simply trying to work through the anguish for himself. Viki had been fortunate enough not to lose anybody so near and dear on the island... not yet, anyway. She couldn't imagine how Steve must have felt at that very moment.
There wasn't much time to think about it before Steve's attention returned to Dorian and he agreed to go along with his "plan", but not before finding Gabe. Hearing that statement was a bit of a relief to Viki. It wasn't that she was unhappy that she'd found Steve by any means, it was just... finding Gabe seemed more important now. How stupid, she thought to herself, for her to be chasing a guy around the island that probably didn't even see her as more than a friend.
But there's really no "probably", is there, Vik? He had Kara... he wasn't looking at you.
Viki sighed quietly, gently pushing a piece of rain-drenched hair away from her face for the umpteenth time.
The sound of a voice singing caught Viki's attention, and her head turned to meet the newcomer that had... for lack of a better word staggered into the field. Steve warned them to get close to him, and Viki found herself happily obliging as she looked at the figure. She couldn't place a name with his face, although she probably should have been able to. Viki had never chosen to run with his "crowd", and for good reason. She wasn't a druggie. Never had been.
Shaun opening his mouth and rambling on about her didn't win him any favors in her eyes. Rather than saying anything to the potentially hostile figure, though, Viki simply rolled her eyes in mild annoyance. His opinion about her hardly mattered, but when he popped off about Serenity messing around with Paul Smith on the side, Viki cringed. Paul had been in the restaurant a few times, and yeah, Serenity had been flirting with him, but she was a waitress, after all. She worked for tips. The whole point was to make yourself as appealing to your customer as possible, and when it came to Paul... well, he liked women, plain and simple.
And maybe she'd mentioned him being cute once or twice.
But for God's sakes, she'd just died, and Steve had been the one forced to kill her, no less. What this really the time or place to be bringing up such trivial matters? It didn't even matter anymore. Most of those people were dead and gone. What was the point in re-opening fresh wounds?
When Steve responded by pointing his gun at Shaun, Viki couldn't even say she was really surprised. Rather than trying to stop him, though, she simply looked the other way, closing her eyes tightly for the slaughter that was probably about to ensue. After all the things he'd just said, did this guy really think they were going to let him join up with them?
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"And I begged you to stab me and you tore my shirt open and now my Stacey's are soaked in blood," he paused again, "Once again off Tom Waits and that there Small Change, doubt you'd know that...maybe a better song'll fit the situation."
Shawn pretty much shrugged and lit up another cigarette.
"I mean, take it easy with this shit Stevie-boy, your girlfriend was a fucking slut, she's a cheerleader, that shits to be expected I mean, pom-poms rhyme with dicksucking, you can't make a ho a housewife, blah blah blah, y'know all the cliches at this point", he flicked the cigarette to the ground, "Now both you and your cohort better put the gun down before I kick both of your asses, I bet I could take you while this lady over here is giving me a fucking champ of BJ, I mean, just look at her. Doesn't look like she'd put out, but she'd probably blow ya till the cows come home."
He lit up another cigarette.
"No disrespect ma'am.", he curtly nodded to Viki and then looked at Steve and his friend before flicking the cigarette away (his second one in just these two minutes of conversation) and laughed a bit as he laughed a bit at Steve some more.
"Now, where were we ya limp dicked son of a bitch? Oh that's right, you being a pussy and pointing a gun at me, well, well, we'll see how much ass I gotta kick before you put down the gun and get to realizin': a.) that you need to shut the fuck up and b.) all I wanted to do was talk asshole."
And with that Shawn Waits, as predicted, rushed in to give Steve Digeantoa vicious punch to the gut, unaware that he had not one, but two guns pointed at him.
Oh Danya, how right your conclusions could be sometimes.
Shawn pretty much shrugged and lit up another cigarette.
"I mean, take it easy with this shit Stevie-boy, your girlfriend was a fucking slut, she's a cheerleader, that shits to be expected I mean, pom-poms rhyme with dicksucking, you can't make a ho a housewife, blah blah blah, y'know all the cliches at this point", he flicked the cigarette to the ground, "Now both you and your cohort better put the gun down before I kick both of your asses, I bet I could take you while this lady over here is giving me a fucking champ of BJ, I mean, just look at her. Doesn't look like she'd put out, but she'd probably blow ya till the cows come home."
He lit up another cigarette.
"No disrespect ma'am.", he curtly nodded to Viki and then looked at Steve and his friend before flicking the cigarette away (his second one in just these two minutes of conversation) and laughed a bit as he laughed a bit at Steve some more.
"Now, where were we ya limp dicked son of a bitch? Oh that's right, you being a pussy and pointing a gun at me, well, well, we'll see how much ass I gotta kick before you put down the gun and get to realizin': a.) that you need to shut the fuck up and b.) all I wanted to do was talk asshole."
And with that Shawn Waits, as predicted, rushed in to give Steve Digeantoa vicious punch to the gut, unaware that he had not one, but two guns pointed at him.
Oh Danya, how right your conclusions could be sometimes.
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Pigeon Army*
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"Now, where were we ya limp dicked son of a bitch?"
Dorian raised an eyebrow. Something didn't feel right. Waits was baiting Steve. Wanting him to shoot.
Which meant Shawn was probably going to do something stupid in all of a minute. And Dorian wasn't willing to let one imbecile ruin his plan to save everyone. Or, more importantly, kill Steve and Viki. And himself.
Dorian moved a free hand to his daypack and unzipped the bag, grabbing the butcher's knife inside. He clicked on the safety of the gun. If there was one thing Dorian had learnt from video games, gun recoil went up - whatever that meant. All Dorian knew was that, if Shawn did try to pull a Neo on them, he'd have to go low.
Dorian shifted his weight.
"...all I wanted to do was talk asshole."
Shawn lunged at Steve.
Dorian dropped the gun and dove at Shawn's legs, swinging the butcher's knife at his legs in a wide arch.
So much for fucking talking.
Dorian raised an eyebrow. Something didn't feel right. Waits was baiting Steve. Wanting him to shoot.
Which meant Shawn was probably going to do something stupid in all of a minute. And Dorian wasn't willing to let one imbecile ruin his plan to save everyone. Or, more importantly, kill Steve and Viki. And himself.
Dorian moved a free hand to his daypack and unzipped the bag, grabbing the butcher's knife inside. He clicked on the safety of the gun. If there was one thing Dorian had learnt from video games, gun recoil went up - whatever that meant. All Dorian knew was that, if Shawn did try to pull a Neo on them, he'd have to go low.
Dorian shifted his weight.
"...all I wanted to do was talk asshole."
Shawn lunged at Steve.
Dorian dropped the gun and dove at Shawn's legs, swinging the butcher's knife at his legs in a wide arch.
So much for fucking talking.
Shawn was a drunk fighter.
He fought drunk, all the time. And he was a good drunk fighter, akin to an Irish Boxer at the pinnacle of potential. He was fast enough to be dangerous, strong enough to be a threat, and drunk enough to have the strange mix of luck and recklessness to make things work, also what with the guns both pointing at him he had something that the divine gods always seem to give you during your life or death motions.
People, I am of course speaking of the divine act of slow motion.
Shawn, honestly didn't know how he had managed to dodge the upcoming attack. Perhaps it was luck, there was no perhaps about it, it was luck. He didn't know how he managed to dodge the knife, he did know that he landed on all fours shortly afterwards and he did know that the moment he landed and started stumbling up he found a gun that had been plesantly discarded on the floor and her ran to pick it up before awkwardly getting into an upright position. Flicking off the safety he had noticed by chance that the previous owner had put on.
“Well, whaddya know, you guys aren’t assholes after all, thanks for the gun, kid.”
He fought drunk, all the time. And he was a good drunk fighter, akin to an Irish Boxer at the pinnacle of potential. He was fast enough to be dangerous, strong enough to be a threat, and drunk enough to have the strange mix of luck and recklessness to make things work, also what with the guns both pointing at him he had something that the divine gods always seem to give you during your life or death motions.
People, I am of course speaking of the divine act of slow motion.
Shawn, honestly didn't know how he had managed to dodge the upcoming attack. Perhaps it was luck, there was no perhaps about it, it was luck. He didn't know how he managed to dodge the knife, he did know that he landed on all fours shortly afterwards and he did know that the moment he landed and started stumbling up he found a gun that had been plesantly discarded on the floor and her ran to pick it up before awkwardly getting into an upright position. Flicking off the safety he had noticed by chance that the previous owner had put on.
“Well, whaddya know, you guys aren’t assholes after all, thanks for the gun, kid.”
"You son of a..." Steve had raised the gun and nearly pulled the trigger when Dorian's body went flying in front of him and at Shawn. The struggle that ensued had Steve aiming every which way with the rifle, not wanting to fire for risk of hitting Dorian with a shot.
Fuck...
Dorian's attempt had failed miserably, and there was now a gun in the hands of a pissed off drunk who was looking Steve's way. It was shoot him now, or die and let him kill Viki and Dorian.
'Well, whaddya know, you guys aren't assholes after all, thanks for the gun, kid.'
Was Steve not running on adrenaline, he probably would have smacked himself for the cliche response that followed, "Yeah, well here are some fucking bullets."
Steve aimed the gun at Shawn and squeezed off two rounds.
Fuck...
Dorian's attempt had failed miserably, and there was now a gun in the hands of a pissed off drunk who was looking Steve's way. It was shoot him now, or die and let him kill Viki and Dorian.
'Well, whaddya know, you guys aren't assholes after all, thanks for the gun, kid.'
Was Steve not running on adrenaline, he probably would have smacked himself for the cliche response that followed, "Yeah, well here are some fucking bullets."
Steve aimed the gun at Shawn and squeezed off two rounds.
Stuff. Things. Stuff and things.