John Egbert (
toheirishuman) wrote in
sparepartsbox2013-12-27 10:28 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Let's give the boy a hand.
[Another week, another murder, another twisted execution. Three weeks this had gone on now, and it was getting harder and harder to stay positive about it. At the end of every trial, John always told himself that this would be the last time. That it wouldn't, couldn't happen again. And every Friday, he was proven wrong.]
[Why was it always Friday, anyway?]
[He guessed, on the plus side, a majority of them had been accidents. That was...heartening sort of, he guessed. At least most of them hadn't actually been cold-blooded killers.]
[He wasn't sure if anybody had some kind of post-trial cheer up planned this week. But frankly, he didn't really care. Unlike last week, there was no uncertainty in John's mind over whether or not he wanted to be alone for a while. The answer to that was "absolutely." So once they're released from Monobear rock, John immediately takes to the skies. He doesn't really have a particular destination in mind, so when he winds up on Chandler Beach he has no real complaints.]
[He lands in the sand, immediately curling up on himself. And for a while, he stays like that. Just curled up in a ball on a private beach on an island where technically all the beaches are private because NOBODY LIVES here but you know what...]
[But eventually, the ball method of coping stops helping. Actually, it only takes about five minutes for John to jump to his feet and start angrily shouting at the sky. Mostly indistinct, angry swears at nothing in particular. And all those rocks and shells he's been saving up in his sylladex ever since he got it back are finally coming in handy. Because he sure is hurling them as hard as he can into the ocean. Thisis one heck of a temper tantrum he's throwing at...the moon. Since there's nobody else here.]
[As usual though, his tantrum doesn't last long. He burns himself out even faster than he got bored of the ball method.]
FUCK!!!
[With that final swear, the loudest of all of them, John flops backwards into the sand. His glasses go flying, landing in the sand a few feet away but John gives precisely zero fucks about that. It actually makes it easier for him to cover the top half of his face with his arm as he lays there, panting and resisting the urge to just start crying in frustration now.]
[He regrets ever complaining about his time on the ship now. He'd take that over this hellhole of an island any day.]
[Why was it always Friday, anyway?]
[He guessed, on the plus side, a majority of them had been accidents. That was...heartening sort of, he guessed. At least most of them hadn't actually been cold-blooded killers.]
[He wasn't sure if anybody had some kind of post-trial cheer up planned this week. But frankly, he didn't really care. Unlike last week, there was no uncertainty in John's mind over whether or not he wanted to be alone for a while. The answer to that was "absolutely." So once they're released from Monobear rock, John immediately takes to the skies. He doesn't really have a particular destination in mind, so when he winds up on Chandler Beach he has no real complaints.]
[He lands in the sand, immediately curling up on himself. And for a while, he stays like that. Just curled up in a ball on a private beach on an island where technically all the beaches are private because NOBODY LIVES here but you know what...]
[But eventually, the ball method of coping stops helping. Actually, it only takes about five minutes for John to jump to his feet and start angrily shouting at the sky. Mostly indistinct, angry swears at nothing in particular. And all those rocks and shells he's been saving up in his sylladex ever since he got it back are finally coming in handy. Because he sure is hurling them as hard as he can into the ocean. Thisis one heck of a temper tantrum he's throwing at...the moon. Since there's nobody else here.]
[As usual though, his tantrum doesn't last long. He burns himself out even faster than he got bored of the ball method.]
FUCK!!!
[With that final swear, the loudest of all of them, John flops backwards into the sand. His glasses go flying, landing in the sand a few feet away but John gives precisely zero fucks about that. It actually makes it easier for him to cover the top half of his face with his arm as he lays there, panting and resisting the urge to just start crying in frustration now.]
[He regrets ever complaining about his time on the ship now. He'd take that over this hellhole of an island any day.]
Page 1 of 3