Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20170315012550/@comment-27661770-20170315220144

"THAT'S IT. WE'RE FUCKED."

Karkat finally broke the silence that even the Mayor hadn't quite breached.

"WE'RE UP SHITSTORM CREEK AND THE PADDLE GOT FUCKING MERKED. AND NOW OUR BOAT IS SLOWLY LEAKING OUR LAST CHANCES AT GETTING OUT ALIVE, OR AT LEAST NOT DROWNING IN SHIT. MAY AS WELL STICK OUR HEADS ON THE BROKEN PADDLE. EASIER WAY OUT. AND A FUCK-YOU TO SHITSTORM CREEK."

"bRo, DoN't GiVe Up LiKe Th-"

"GODDAMMIT GAMZEE, IT'S OVER! GAME FUCKING OVER! NO RESPAWNS, NO CONTINUES, NO FUCKING ANYTHING! WE'RE FUCKED SO HARD THAT WE VOMITED OUR INNARDS OUT INTO SHITSTORM CREEK!!!"

Silence for a minute after that particularly loud outburst.

Karkat collapsed, head in his hands.

If you really looked at it, John was the one who had held everything together, or Vriska. And now one was dead and the other had killed him.

Up shit creek with a broken paddle.

And it's monsoon season.