Survival Of The Fittest

Colm took the card that came from what looked like a lock box.

It had a little robot-looking creature on it.

"Emergency teleport" he read out loud. He turned it over in his hand, then put the card into the pocket on the inside of his coat.

"Mmm. I'll steer her away from this particular vista. There are better views," he replied with a wry, somewhat false smirk. He nodded a few times and finally stood once again with his weapon and his bag.

"I'll try to spread the good word of Jacob, make your case to Betty. I've gotta. Would hate to have one less adorable brat in the world," he said cheekily.

He winked at Jacob and blew him a kiss, hoping maybe throwing one more absurd tease out would make being alone again a little less rough of a realisation for them both.

"You probably would have been fun to know before. Stay safe... And maybe we'll see each other again."

((Colm continued elsewhere))

Jacob stood unmoving as he watched the large figure disappear into the distance, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach. This was the only way things could have realistically turned out, but no matter how much he repeated the thought to himself, it didn't ease the ache of walking back into the dark fog of loneliness yet again. Somehow, he had a feeling that he wouldn't find anyone so fun to banter with for a while, and as much as he enjoyed some good trolling, having a genuinely fun conversation with someone willing to play along was nice as well.

The waves continued to lap against the shoreline as he stared blankly forward. This was the way it was always going to be, wasn't it? Any person he met who could actually stand his presence was always going to be pushed away, one way or another. He couldn't even take solace in blaming the situation on any sort of cosmic unfairness, either. All this was the result of his actions. No matter what situation he found himself in, any avenues of positivity would be soon closed off by his constant desire for amusement at other peoples' expense, and now, with people constantly able and willing to kill him, that pastime had become incredibly dangerous. Even so, he had kept this up for so long that changing course now felt like an impossible task.

He sighed, a cold feeling spreading within his chest. Perhaps he should just stop trying to get his hopes up. Hoping that someone would want to stick around with him, or, heaven forbid, actually like him only brought with it a pain worse than any beating he have could received. At this point, entertaining thoughts like that would only hurt him more. He might as well continue prodding and poking everyone despite the danger; it was the only thing he knew how to do, it seemed. If somebody retaliated with force, well... it would be just what he deserved.

((Jacob Lang continued in Valentin Takes A Bath))