Party Games (Frerard)

Eleven

Gerard was quickly restrained by the tallest member of the group before getting bound by another. He was then sat on the ground as the two went to bind the unconscious Fun Ghoul. Gerard glared at the one they called Future, who was going through some of their recently obtained supplies.

"Demonic must be getting soft if he allowed you to pull from half of your next month's rations." He let out a soft laugh as he slammed the trunk of the car, "That, or you've gotten very convincing, Party Poison."

"You speak like you know me." Gerard spat at the ground, "Who the hell even are you?"

Future walked over to Gerard before squatting in front of him so that they were eye level with one another. "Future Bloom." He said as he brought the hand with the rose tattoo up next to his face, "Your rejected killjoys, remember?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Gerard spoke honestly. He didn't have any fully rejected character designs. There may have been some that didn't make it past a basic outline, but never had he thrown any away or denied their existence.

Future rolled his eyes, letting his hand drop. "Whatever. It's not me who you need to discuss this with. Desert Hurricane will deal with you." With that, he stood and moved back towards Fun Ghoul's car. "I want this thing secured before the dust storm can take it, got it, Solo?"

The one with red in his hair nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Gerard pulled against his bonds, but to no avail. The binding would not give. He was forced to watch as these two, who Gerard couldn't fully remember designing, continued to poke through the car.

"Villainous!" Future suddenly called out as he brought his arm up to his face. His jacket sleeve was pulled back to expose a lit up wrist com. "Hurricane wants a meeting with the infamous Party Poison sooner rather than later." A wicked grin crossed over his face as he looked up from his wrist com, "Take him to your lady friend."

"On it, Future." A grip tightened on the back of Gerard's jacket before he was pulled up to his feet. He turned his head to the side, recognizing the tall figure that was leading him away from the car.

"Dallon, please!"

"Party's lost his mind! The rumors are true. What kind of title is 'Dallon'? What's a 'Dallon'?"

"Not the time, Solo, the storm's growing closer!"

It was true. The wind was picking up, sending dirt up and around in circles throughout the air. It didn't seem to affect the bandits, however, because they simply pulled goggles from their pockets to protect their eyes.

Gerard was dragged to a motor bike that was detailed by a vivid purple and almost neon blue. Before he could react, he was slung over the backseat like luggage.

"Where's fun Ghoul!?" Gerard yelled as he struggled against his restraints. "Villainous!" He wished his friends were real here. He was tired of playing along. He didn't want to get trapped in an ever playing recreation of his comics or, worse, become trapped somewhere between real life and fantasy like Ryan.

Villainous Pills said nothing as he climbed onto the motor bike and started it up. Gerard shut his eyes tightly, afraid of any dust that may get flung into his eyes. As he could feel the bike begin to move, he could also feel small specks fly against his face.

The ride was mind numbing.the constant sound of the engine, the occasional specks flung into his face, and the constant worry for Fun Ghoul tormented him as Villainous Pills drove to wherever their destination was. It could have been minutes; it could have been years. Eventually, however, it did stop.

A wave of relief coated Gerard as the engine stopped its noise and the weight of the bike shifted, signaling that Villainous had gotten off the bike.