↳ @selfsaving // starter call.
“ I’M NOT SAYING YOUR CREW IS BAD ... ” a pause, the man well aware of how quickly this could potentially go wrong. “ —— i’m just saying that my crew is definitely better. ”
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↳ @selfsaving // starter call.
“ I’M NOT SAYING YOUR CREW IS BAD ... ” a pause, the man well aware of how quickly this could potentially go wrong. “ —— i’m just saying that my crew is definitely better. ”
↳ @selfsaving // cont.
IT’S FAIR ENOUGH TO SAY THAT HE & MICHAEL DON’T ALWAYS SEE EYE TO EYE. AND NOW IS ONE OF THOSE TIMES THAT THEY COULDN’T AGREE IF THEY TRIED. this whole thing has been a mess ; zombie population of a distant town underestimated and under - prepared for. it’s a long and BLOODY story , but it ends with the two of them limping through the desert under a starless night —— valuable resources abandoned behind them and all of this MUCH TOO FAR FROM HOME.
both are furious with the other ( and RILED UP from the violence of the day ). the pair of them had fallen apart // badly co - ordinated effort leaving michael with a bad sprain and ryan with a bite that’s going to beLETHAL if not treated soon. the arguing begins when they leave town and doesn’t stop —— even when finally an abandoned house comes into view that they can shelter it , their yells echo against surrounding trees. ryan SLAMS the door coming in. throws down his bag // can’t even LOOK at michael right now. finally he’s stopped yelling —— now they’ve found shelter he just wants to treat his wound before it gets any worse. hands SHAKE as they rummage through his bag , looking for honey. BUT MICHAEL’S STILL INSISTENT ON ARGUING and , as much as ryan tries to ignore him , frustration wells until it’s unbearable.
“ GOD , you’re such an idiot !!! ” sense deserts him // surely anger has turned them all wild at this point. he stands up and turns on michael. before he REALISES it he’s got a fistful of michael’s shirt and the smaller man is pinned against the wall. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP !! don’t you realise none of this even matters ?! we BOTH fucked up and we’re all to shit anyway so JUST … just … ” the sentence trails off and all that’s left is a cloud of anger with no PURPOSE. grip tightens for one second before he lets out a hiss and , in frustration , LETS GO. he goes back to his bag in silence and finds the honey he needs. spreads a bunch into the blackening bite mark in his arm and swallows the rest. finally he stands up again and takes a deep breath // back still to michael // eyes closed. fingers tighten on the empty jar and then HURL it into the wall in front of him. doesn’t flinch as shattered glass rains down on both of them.
he doesn’t look at michael once. still too ANGRY even if he’s given up fighting. backpack slings over one shoulder and , without a word , he leaves the house. WHATEVER’S LURKING IN THE NIGHT , he’d rather walk all the way home than stay there with michael until dawn.
IF THERE’S ONE THING MICHAEL’S GOOD AT IT’S ARGUING, ALL HE EVER DOES IS ARGUE. he’s not the biggest of men but he never fails to be the loudest, be it out of fear or anger or a twisted fucked up mixture of the two. he’s not entirely angry at ryan, most of his anger directed either at himself or the dead that they’d passed along the way. it had all gone so wrong so fast and he’s angry and scared and full of adrenaline, left with a boiling aggression but no way to LET IT ALL OUT.
the house is in part relief and in part anything but. he’s happy for the idea of a roof over his head and a chance to get through the night, but he isn’t really looking forward to being in a tiny room with an EQUALLY ANGRY ryan. still, surviving is more appealing than a BRUTAL AND BLOODY end so he doesn’t protest, doesnt even consider any option other than going inside.
he’s almost cooling down, or cool FOR MICHAEL at least, but then ryan’s got him against the wall. he’s doing everything he can to keep his relative cool because, quite frankly, he doesn’t want to fight when he could be sleeping. pain is shooting through his leg every second with the adrenaline of the fight quickly wearing off. now he’s just more agitated than angry, his pain being an ANNOYANCE and the anger just making him tired. “ you’ll heal. ” spoken as glass shards hit the floor. they both will, eventually, even if right now it feels like they’ll be fucked FOREVER.
he slumps into a corner with a huff, hand gently coming to wrap around his sprained ankle. it’ll take a while to heal, but eventually it’ll happen. it just means he has to be more careful. something that’d be easy if ryan hadn’t just walked out the door. “ WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ?! ” there goes that virtual calm, michael roughly pulling himself up and launching himself towards the door. he’s still angry, still tired, but knows that survival is more important than a fight. “ are you shitting me ?? and you say I’M the idiot ?? ” spoken with a bitter laugh but shockingly there’s no malicious intent.
“ were right by a fucking city and its DARK AS FUCKING BALLS. I don’t care if you’re angry as shit, you don’t have shit supply wise and you’re gonna get about ten fucking feet before some DEAD FUCK starts running at you faster than you can handle and don’t even get me fucking started on the dogs. ” its his way of telling ryan to get inside, his voice loud and carrying it’s way through the darkness. each word sounds like it’s spoken with the anger of a thousand men, yet if you listen to what he’s saying you’ll see that it’s him actually caring. “ oh for fucks sake. ” he stops leaning in the door frame then, backing up into the house and grabbing the remainder of their stuff. he’s chasing ryan despite the anger still in the air, limping his way just slightly behind him. “ better not DIE out here, I’ll be fucking pissed. ”
↳ @selfsaving // wilhelm green
HES OUT OF LOS SANTOS FOR THE WEEK, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE STOPPED LISTENING. a little help from the fahc and chris had access to a police radio with the lspd’s channels on it. any job, anyone radioing to the station, chris heard it all. yes, this was supposed to be a vacation, some time away from the stress of police work, but when has chris ever done as hes told ?
HE NOTICES THE VOICE AS SOON AS THE CALL COMES THROUGH, wills voice going through the line calling for help. something about a gang, about being alone, about being caught. chris didn’t listen to much, only enough to figure out where it was.
A QUICK CALL TO THE FAHC AND BEFORE HE KNOWS IT HES IN A JET ON THE WAY BACK TO LOS SANTOS, piloted by a criminal who seemed to really know what she was doing. normally the flight would take about an hour, but within twenty - odd minutes the jet came to a stop right by the gangs base. that’s the good thing about flying with a criminal : she goes fast, she doesn’t care much about legal landing zones and, most helpfully, she hands you a gun as you get off the plane.
HE GOES INTO THE BASE WITHOUT A PLAN, without much of an idea what hes up against. jack had given him a quick rundown of what she knew about the gang, but the truth was no one knew much. once hes inside everything goes quick, ammo runs out fast and their own weapons are turned against them. soon enough everyone is either dead or ran away.
DOOR OPENS TO FIND WILHELM TIED UP, the only other person in the room quickly getting a bullet to the head. chris’ expression doesn’t change, the man still focused on getting out. “ gotta be quick. ” spoken as he unties will, constantly looking over his shoulder at the door, never sure how safe they are. “ don’t worry, it’s a luxury getaway vehicle. can’t follow us. ”
↳ @selfsaving // canon quote starter call.
“ OH, I AM SO SICK OF NOT HAVING MONEY. I’D BE THE BEST RICH PERSON. seriously. i'd be the perfect combination of frivolous and sensible. money is so wasted on the wealthy. ”