Post by Puppet on Jul 2, 2007 17:43:09 GMT -5
NOTE: In this RP, a wrestler is mentioned who Puppet “all but obliterates.” It’s just an unnamed wrestler wannabe or something like that, no one from the Roster.
NOTE the 2nd: A sentence entirely in italics is supposed to be Jacob’s thoughts.
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Jacob Frost was about to embark on one of the most dangerous missions of his life. For others, this was a simple, routine chore. A laughing matter. Not one of life and death. Not one that required careful planning, a “Plan B”, and a speedy getaway.
Jacob Frost was going to get groceries. And dammit if Donny, or “Puppet”, wasn’t making it hell.
Getting groceries had always been a deadly choice between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, if he left Puppet at home, well... he was leaving Puppet at home alone, which was never a good idea under any circumstances. He remembered once going out to a bar (this had been in his earlier days, when he hadn’t quite comprehended Donny’s pure and utter insanity) and returning home to find the walls covered with blood and Donny playing with the intestines of the neighbor’s very much dead cat. Thank god they’d never figured out just where their cat had gone. It had been hell to clean up, particularly since his brother seemed to think that a bath was some form of torture most foul.
On the other hand, he could take Donny with him. Which meant taking Donny out in public, which was an equally disastrous idea. He’d learned that the hard way after deciding to take him with him to get groceries a long time ago. Donny had not only ransacked the entire cereal isle, but had also laughed like a little psychopath at a kid who’d tripped and skimmed his knee, and had come remarkably close to punching an old woman in the kidney.
That one would not soon be forgotten. He’d had to explain that his little brother was “unwell”, had to pay for something like forty boxes of cereal, and had to apologize profusely to an old woman who smelled more like cats than any feline he’d ever met.
It had been at about this time that he’d made the most wonderful (and simultaneously disturbing) discovery in recent history, topping well above insulin and chemotherapy. This one discovery had saved him a great deal of suffering, and was also how he’d convinced Donny to fight in this... OWF or whatever-the-hell it was called.
Bambi. Thank god for that little Disney character that Donny seemed to adore. Well, not so much the Disney character, as Jacob was quite sure that the kid had never seen the movie, but the fact remained that Donny had a little deer doll named “Bambi” that he regarded as the most important thing within the known universe. This, in turn, made “Bambi” an unmeasurably useful tool.
It was also, interestingly enough, probably one of the few times that Donny spoke, when Jacob had taken the doll from him. Indeed it had been quite the surprise to Jacob when Donny had begun protesting his doll’s capture with actual speech (and a deadly temper). Still, more than once Jacob had thanked his lucky stars for that little doll that was his sole source of control over Donny.
Although it was somewhat annoying that he had to compete for affection with a damn doll.
“Now you have to be real good while I’m gone, okay, Donny? And if you’re real good, I’ll give you Bambi back.”
“Gimme!” The kid-trapped-in-an-eighteen-year-old-body protested, trying to jump up to grab the doll. Jacob easily twisted out of the way, holding Bambi high in the air. Agile as Donny was, Jacob seemed to have an unnatural talent for dodging his efforts to steal the doll back, and to coerce Donny into giving him said doll. Donny looked up at him with the same hurt, childishly disappointed expression that he always wore when Bambi was not firmly between his arms. Jacob, having long since realized that this was just a ruse, ignored it.
“Bambi says he wants you to be good, too, Donny.”
The little psychopath’s face twisted with frustration and rage.
“No, he doesn’t! You’re lying!”
“Why would I lie to you? I’m your brother,” Jacob said to Donny. That fact alone seemed to reassure Donny somewhat. “I promise you can have Bambi back when I get back, okay?”
Donny’s head bowed, finally accepting defeat for what had to be the thousandth time. He was positively sulking when he muttered “‘Kay.” Jacob couldn’t help but think that Donny was nothing but an innocent little kid when he did this. He had a gift for deluding people into thinking he was just a poor, pitiable little deranged boy.
It usually worked right up until anyone under this sadly mistaken impression realized that Donny thought that seeing people bleed was downright hilarious and took great pleasure in causing them to bleed.
Marcus Ash had been under a similar impression, although instead of pitying Donny, he found him hilarious. At first, he’d nearly laughed his ass off when he’d seen Donny clutching Bambi to his chest. Jacob had insisted that “Puppet” could beat the shit out of anyone he wanted to, and Reaper had agreed to see a match between Puppet and some wrestler wannabe (there seemed to be an ample supply of these in Alberta). Jacob suspected that Ash had only agreed to it to watch Puppet get his face turned inside out, but his opinion had changed soon enough once Donny had all but obliterated his opponent.
He’d quickly signed Donny (or “Puppet”), when he’d seen the kid fight. He’d cracked up, though, when Jacob had literally been forced to get Donny out of the ring by threatening to tear off one of Bambi’s limbs when the kid had proceeded to jump up and down on top of the face of his defeated opponent.
Anyway. Focus on the task at hand. Peril at the hands of a miniature psychopath and all that.
Not wanting to be seen walking around carrying a doll, he stuffed Bambi in one of the pockets of his jacket, much to the protest of Donny.
“You’re hurting Bambi!” He screamed, tackling Jacob to the ground.
Oh, shit, he thought, if only out of reflex. They’d been through this little song and dance many a time before and it wasn’t about to change now. Donny feverishly tried to tear off Jacob’s jacket to get Bambi. Jacob let him as he took the doll out of the pocket. His years practicing sleight of hand as a teenager had come in far more handy than he’d ever imagined (at the time, he’d enjoyed trying to cheat at poker and various other card games), as he managed to slip the tiny doll out without Donny’s noticing.
Even if he’d done this about a thousand times before, it still took Donny about three minutes to realize that Jacob was holding Bambi and that the doll wasn’t in the pockets of the jacket. Well, that was one of the ever-so-slight advantages of Donny’s insanity, Jacob guessed.
While his brother was all but interrogating his brown leather jacket, Jacob sized up the doll and for the umpteenth time wondered why Donny liked the damn thing so much. It was just a plain, light-brown deer with little dark-brown marbles for eyes. Its fur was torn in a few places and was starting to lose its color. So why was it so damn special?
He could’ve swore that the doll was sneering at him as he stared into its empty, emotionless eyes.
Go to hell, you over-rated piece of felt.
Great. Now he was talking to the doll. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure if Donny talked to it. He’d only ever seen him cradling the doll and taking it with him wherever he went. Swell. Did that make him more insane than Donny?
God, he hoped not.
In the meantime, Donny had finally come to the realization that the jacket was devoid of His Precious. He threw the jacket at Jacob in frustration, then crossed his arms and sat down on the floor looking remarkably like a pouting child.
Ignoring the splitting pain of the zipper making contact with the tender flesh of his cheek, Jacob put the jacket back on and crammed the doll into a pocket once more.
“You be good while I’m gone, okay? And then I’ll give Bambi back,” Jacob said, turning to look at Donny before he left their shabby little apartment.
“Okay,” Donny replied crossly, mutiny blazing in his eyes. But that’d change soon enough, when Jacob gave him Bambi back. All would be forgiven and he’d love his brother almost–almost– as much he did his doll. Until he took it again, when he would promptly think him to be an evil, evil bastard. Until he returned the doll, at which point Jacob became the second-greatest thing in Donny’s world again. And so on and so forth.
Never-ending cycles get monotonous really quickly, Jacob concluded as he left the apartment.
NOTE the 2nd: A sentence entirely in italics is supposed to be Jacob’s thoughts.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jacob Frost was about to embark on one of the most dangerous missions of his life. For others, this was a simple, routine chore. A laughing matter. Not one of life and death. Not one that required careful planning, a “Plan B”, and a speedy getaway.
Jacob Frost was going to get groceries. And dammit if Donny, or “Puppet”, wasn’t making it hell.
Getting groceries had always been a deadly choice between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, if he left Puppet at home, well... he was leaving Puppet at home alone, which was never a good idea under any circumstances. He remembered once going out to a bar (this had been in his earlier days, when he hadn’t quite comprehended Donny’s pure and utter insanity) and returning home to find the walls covered with blood and Donny playing with the intestines of the neighbor’s very much dead cat. Thank god they’d never figured out just where their cat had gone. It had been hell to clean up, particularly since his brother seemed to think that a bath was some form of torture most foul.
On the other hand, he could take Donny with him. Which meant taking Donny out in public, which was an equally disastrous idea. He’d learned that the hard way after deciding to take him with him to get groceries a long time ago. Donny had not only ransacked the entire cereal isle, but had also laughed like a little psychopath at a kid who’d tripped and skimmed his knee, and had come remarkably close to punching an old woman in the kidney.
That one would not soon be forgotten. He’d had to explain that his little brother was “unwell”, had to pay for something like forty boxes of cereal, and had to apologize profusely to an old woman who smelled more like cats than any feline he’d ever met.
It had been at about this time that he’d made the most wonderful (and simultaneously disturbing) discovery in recent history, topping well above insulin and chemotherapy. This one discovery had saved him a great deal of suffering, and was also how he’d convinced Donny to fight in this... OWF or whatever-the-hell it was called.
Bambi. Thank god for that little Disney character that Donny seemed to adore. Well, not so much the Disney character, as Jacob was quite sure that the kid had never seen the movie, but the fact remained that Donny had a little deer doll named “Bambi” that he regarded as the most important thing within the known universe. This, in turn, made “Bambi” an unmeasurably useful tool.
It was also, interestingly enough, probably one of the few times that Donny spoke, when Jacob had taken the doll from him. Indeed it had been quite the surprise to Jacob when Donny had begun protesting his doll’s capture with actual speech (and a deadly temper). Still, more than once Jacob had thanked his lucky stars for that little doll that was his sole source of control over Donny.
Although it was somewhat annoying that he had to compete for affection with a damn doll.
“Now you have to be real good while I’m gone, okay, Donny? And if you’re real good, I’ll give you Bambi back.”
“Gimme!” The kid-trapped-in-an-eighteen-year-old-body protested, trying to jump up to grab the doll. Jacob easily twisted out of the way, holding Bambi high in the air. Agile as Donny was, Jacob seemed to have an unnatural talent for dodging his efforts to steal the doll back, and to coerce Donny into giving him said doll. Donny looked up at him with the same hurt, childishly disappointed expression that he always wore when Bambi was not firmly between his arms. Jacob, having long since realized that this was just a ruse, ignored it.
“Bambi says he wants you to be good, too, Donny.”
The little psychopath’s face twisted with frustration and rage.
“No, he doesn’t! You’re lying!”
“Why would I lie to you? I’m your brother,” Jacob said to Donny. That fact alone seemed to reassure Donny somewhat. “I promise you can have Bambi back when I get back, okay?”
Donny’s head bowed, finally accepting defeat for what had to be the thousandth time. He was positively sulking when he muttered “‘Kay.” Jacob couldn’t help but think that Donny was nothing but an innocent little kid when he did this. He had a gift for deluding people into thinking he was just a poor, pitiable little deranged boy.
It usually worked right up until anyone under this sadly mistaken impression realized that Donny thought that seeing people bleed was downright hilarious and took great pleasure in causing them to bleed.
Marcus Ash had been under a similar impression, although instead of pitying Donny, he found him hilarious. At first, he’d nearly laughed his ass off when he’d seen Donny clutching Bambi to his chest. Jacob had insisted that “Puppet” could beat the shit out of anyone he wanted to, and Reaper had agreed to see a match between Puppet and some wrestler wannabe (there seemed to be an ample supply of these in Alberta). Jacob suspected that Ash had only agreed to it to watch Puppet get his face turned inside out, but his opinion had changed soon enough once Donny had all but obliterated his opponent.
He’d quickly signed Donny (or “Puppet”), when he’d seen the kid fight. He’d cracked up, though, when Jacob had literally been forced to get Donny out of the ring by threatening to tear off one of Bambi’s limbs when the kid had proceeded to jump up and down on top of the face of his defeated opponent.
Anyway. Focus on the task at hand. Peril at the hands of a miniature psychopath and all that.
Not wanting to be seen walking around carrying a doll, he stuffed Bambi in one of the pockets of his jacket, much to the protest of Donny.
“You’re hurting Bambi!” He screamed, tackling Jacob to the ground.
Oh, shit, he thought, if only out of reflex. They’d been through this little song and dance many a time before and it wasn’t about to change now. Donny feverishly tried to tear off Jacob’s jacket to get Bambi. Jacob let him as he took the doll out of the pocket. His years practicing sleight of hand as a teenager had come in far more handy than he’d ever imagined (at the time, he’d enjoyed trying to cheat at poker and various other card games), as he managed to slip the tiny doll out without Donny’s noticing.
Even if he’d done this about a thousand times before, it still took Donny about three minutes to realize that Jacob was holding Bambi and that the doll wasn’t in the pockets of the jacket. Well, that was one of the ever-so-slight advantages of Donny’s insanity, Jacob guessed.
While his brother was all but interrogating his brown leather jacket, Jacob sized up the doll and for the umpteenth time wondered why Donny liked the damn thing so much. It was just a plain, light-brown deer with little dark-brown marbles for eyes. Its fur was torn in a few places and was starting to lose its color. So why was it so damn special?
He could’ve swore that the doll was sneering at him as he stared into its empty, emotionless eyes.
Go to hell, you over-rated piece of felt.
Great. Now he was talking to the doll. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure if Donny talked to it. He’d only ever seen him cradling the doll and taking it with him wherever he went. Swell. Did that make him more insane than Donny?
God, he hoped not.
In the meantime, Donny had finally come to the realization that the jacket was devoid of His Precious. He threw the jacket at Jacob in frustration, then crossed his arms and sat down on the floor looking remarkably like a pouting child.
Ignoring the splitting pain of the zipper making contact with the tender flesh of his cheek, Jacob put the jacket back on and crammed the doll into a pocket once more.
“You be good while I’m gone, okay? And then I’ll give Bambi back,” Jacob said, turning to look at Donny before he left their shabby little apartment.
“Okay,” Donny replied crossly, mutiny blazing in his eyes. But that’d change soon enough, when Jacob gave him Bambi back. All would be forgiven and he’d love his brother almost–almost– as much he did his doll. Until he took it again, when he would promptly think him to be an evil, evil bastard. Until he returned the doll, at which point Jacob became the second-greatest thing in Donny’s world again. And so on and so forth.
Never-ending cycles get monotonous really quickly, Jacob concluded as he left the apartment.