Survivor Island: Second Elimination and Third Challenge

[auraesque]

The write_away community has spoken, and the Huckleberry Blue Bandits won the second challenge. Unfortunately, that means that two players from the Twelfth Yellow Knights and Gatsby Green Team must be eliminated.

eunuch_dreams and dark_math_girl, your teams have voted, and you must leave the island

Comments

Re: Jason

[jenni_powell]

"Just go in the closet, just for a second, and I'll shut the door for just a second and then let you right back out".

"No. You will not Jason. You're going to lock me in. You're going to lock me in and not let me out."

"Why would I do that Scott? You're my little brother and I love you."

The two brothers could go on like this all day long, if they were allowed to. Jason had his tape recorder at the ready, with the record button depressed. His dreams of radio superstardom often came at the expense of his little brother. Jason believed that the only way to generate an audience was to create high drama, this drama usually came out of the mental torturing of his little brother.

But Scott had gotten smart. He knew that walking into a dark room meant things flying out at him, he knew that opening a closed door meant a bucket of water to the head.

He knew that entering a closet and allowing the door to be closed meant he'd be locked inside until he screamed bloody murder and pounded until his fists went numb.

All for the sake of his big brother's "art".

Scott wished his parents had never given Jason that Fisher Price tape recorder for his 10th birthday. Scott, being only five, wasn't yet lavished with such extravagant gifts.

But his day would come. And then he'd show Jason...

Boys will be boys

[nyarhotep]

       "I've apologized a million times, what else do you want from me?" Jason tilted the chair back onto two legs and eyed his younger brother. Though Scott was over six-feet tall, he was built with toothpicks and twine. "I thought you'd get a kick out of hanging out with your Big Brother at college - how was I supposed to know they'd shave your head after you passed out?"
       "How could you let them do this?!" Scott touched the haphazard tufts. "I look like a freak! How the hell am I supposed to go to school! What am I gonna tell mom?"
       Jason tipped his head back and exploded with laughter. He pinched his nose and affected Scott's nasally speech, "Uh, yeah mom, I was attacked by Sigma-Pi gangs - they stole my HAIR!"
       "You stupid--" Scott rushed Jason pushing him over backwards - they both crashed to the floor, punching and kicking. Though Scott overtopped Jason by almost a foot, the elder brother outweighed his sibling by 30 pounds. The two rolled around the dorm-room like bulldogs in a pitfight.
       "Oh, wittle brover doesn't wike his new hair-cut?" Books flew from their shelves, windows rattled, empty bottles broke; but the two didn’t notice. Finally, Jason wrestled on top of Scott's chest and pinned his arms to the ground. "Give it up, you're done! You can't beat me!"
       "Fuck you!" Scott squirmed, but couldn't throw his brother off. Eventually, he gave up and stopped moving. Panting and flushed the two stared at eachother - Jason in his Metallica t-shirt and faded black jeans; Scott in a torn, aqua polo and khakis. Chatter from the quad wafted through the window.
       Scott broke the silence, "Get offa me." Jason hesitated a moment, but finally dismounted his brother. Taking a quick couple steps back, Jason prepared for another mad rush. Scott slowly got to his feet, and adjusted his torn shirt. A hand went up to his head to smooth his hair, but fell limply after a second.
       "Are you - I mean, are you ok?"
       "I'm fine." Scott sniffed, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
       "Hey, tell ya what, I know a barber down the street that can fix your hair right up - my treat. I really am sorry. I didn't know they would -"
       "You're always sorry, Jason. You always apologize and act like it was all a big joke. When you locked me in that closet for two days and told Mom you'd sold me to the circus, in High School when you bleached the words, 'Gay Pride' onto all my clothes - you always say you’re sorry."
       "No, but this time I -"
       "I don't care. I just don't care anymore." Scott turned and grabbed his duffle off the floor. He stuffed it full of clothes and the sleeping bag he'd brought for 'Bagger’s weekend'. At last, he grabbed his coat, wrapped it around his thin frame and walked out the door.
       Jason followed him outside. “Don’t be such a baby” - “Come on, it’ll be ok” - “We’re brothers, man. Calm down!” Scott walked like a man to the injection-chair. He quietly unlocked his Dodge, got in, started the engine, and drove exactly ten feet before stopping.
       He looked in the rearview and stared at the strange man standing there: thin blonde hair; deep sleep lines under the eyes; long, articulate fingers; paint-stained jeans. Scott studied his brother's sad face. Jason raised his arm, took a step, "Scott, I-"
       The engine flared and Jason dropped his arm as the SUV's tail-lights slipped away around a bend in the road.