//no no, don't worry rp friends! I am sitting on my floor with my dog while listening to my friend scream shakira songs at the top of his lungs because he forgot to mute his mic when he went to the kitchen. He is sixteen damn years old and I have never laughed so hard
//lmao
//so we still going or naw
//well I'd love to but I'm waiting on @Brokenchipmunk 's reply so
//intense waiting
//lmao
(Oh shit, responsibility)
Jamie looked down at his hands. "I don't want to be in this situation. I can't be in this situation. I'm not the hero in the novels, I'm the character that gets scrapped because they can't do anything right. You all should just… leave me here."
“That’s the thing,” she started. “We’re not in a novel. We’re not going to make bad decisions simply for the drama. In novels, people get left behind or forgotten because they’re not important to the plot. In real life, no one makes it out alive without everyone else’s help.”
//but little did she know
that she was, in fact, in something similar to a novel
"And how am I supposed to help?" Jamie asked, half asking and half pleading. "It's obvious that no one wants me here, and while everyone is in control of the freaky stuff going on, I'm in the corner having panic attacks." His eyes were wet, and he blinked away unshed tears. "The plan doesn't even make sense anyway. We go to Seattle, then what? Assume fake identities? Get captured by the government? There's no sense to what's happening, this isn't a notebook.ai roleplay, we can't just…. Do whatever we want. We just ran away and left everything behind. Are none of you worried about the consequences from that? Or has it just not sunk in yet?"
(… ^sighs^ You are definitely not in a notebook.ai roleplay.)
(^v^)
“There’s no use worrying,” she said softly. “It’s not going to get us anywhere. And you help, by doing what we’re all doing +p- brainstorm. Think. Come up with a plan. Something’s going on out there, and I bet those creatures are still going to try and attack us. We need every mind we’ve got to get out of here.”
//in this situation I would be Jamie
I am not good at being Eleanor shit
Jamie sighed. "If you want my mind, then fine. Going to Seattle isn't going to help anything. We need old legends, news records, anything we can get our hands on that seems similar to this. An old legend about lightning striking and monsters attacking bad children? That's great. News reports about strange occurrences after what people described as monsters? Awesome. We need to get somewhere like a library where we can see what the hell is going on, and if it's ever happened before. The plan you guys have is crap and is going to get us all killed."
She smiled. “Never said it wasn’t. To a library, then.” She stood up and offered him her hand.
Jamie hesitantly took it, before shivering involuntaryly at the warmth coming from it. He pulled away his hand as soon as he was standing up, and rubbed it sheepishly on the back of his neck. "Sorry for the whole… metal breakdown thing."
“It’s fine. I’m honestly surprised more of us didn’t,” she said, before asking a bird to lead them out.
Jamie stared at her talking to the bird with a bitter expression on his face. "This is all so weird…" he muttered under his breath.
“You’ee Not wrong,” she said wryly. “Let’s go.”
//timeskip?
~timeskip brought to you by Voltron angst~
(Allura: Lets play a game from earth. I believe it is called "f#ck, marry, kill"?
Lance: Oh yeah! Well I'd f#ck Keith
Keith: *chokes on drink *
Lance: Marry Hunk
Hunk: I'll pretend it's not because I feed you
Lance: and kill myself!
Allura: I'm not sure that's how the game works-
Lance: Did I f##king stutter?)
(that's so accurate i can't even laugh)
Sam rolled over in their sleeping bag, eyes wide open. They couldn't sleep. The day was too full of shocking revelations to not ponder over. They crept out of the tent quietly and grabbed their satchel full of painting supplies, heading to their secret spot in the back of the rocks.
Useless. Sam swiped angrily with red paint, forming a dark slash on the pale rock.
Powerless. They made quick strokes over and over again in dramatic strokes, letting loose their pent up rage and bitterness. Curve. Circle. Curve.
…Freak. Slamming their hand on the rock, Sam felt a thin film of slime. "Gross!" they yelled, finally paying attention to what they were drawing.
A sea of red eyes blinked back at them.
.jpg)
(I don't even watch Voltron, and I am perfectly aware of how accurate that is.)
Eleanor woke up, sleepily blinking. “What’s goi- WHAT THE HELL?!” She scrambled away from the eyes.
"I don't fucking know!" Sam yelled. "I woke up and came outside… and it was like this!"