"What is that sound?" Courtney said aloud, clearly aggitated.
Duncan smirked. "Scared, Princess?"
Said princess scoffed, glaring daggers at the criminal. "No!"
Duncan just shrugged and stood up, tossing out his uneaten "food" and walking out into the campgrounds.
Then there was the sound of a train and breaking wood. Had a tree snapped or something? That had been what it had sounded like . . .
Back outside with Duncan, he was simply strolling to the Confessional, walking along the edge of the forest. While he walked the sound of the train grew louder, though he didn't seem to notice. He was to entwined with thoughts, and those thoughts he would spill to the Confessional, which Chris would end up showing to the entire viewing world. Damnit.
Then he tripped. Not over his own feet; he's not THAT clumbsy. Over a tree root, jutting out from the ground.
He groaned and rubbed his head as he lifted himself off the ground, his free hand supporting his weight. Trying to get back to his feet (and regain his dignity) he just fell down again, rolling onto his back.
"What the . . ." he trailed off, looking around for the source of his captivity. Apparently, the root had somehow wrapped around his ankle, keeping him in place.
Narrowng his eyes and growling slightly he put a hand into his pocket, taking out his knife. He sawed at the root (which was rather thick to tell you), making progress halfway through it. Then he stopped, abruptedly hearing the sound of the train with clarity.
Duncan, curious and confused, turned to try and find what it was. Unfortunately, it made his heart tense and muscles weaken; a tornado. It was whirring around in the empty lot near the Confessional- heading straight for him. And it wasn't going to stop anytime, either.
He pulled at the root, starting to panic. "C'mon! Break!" Nothing. His knife was long forgotten at his side as he tried again and again to snap the root. Still nothing.
Next thing Duncan knew someone had taken hold of his hand and pulled him out of the path of the tornado with suprising strength, the root breaking in two in the process.
Izzy.
"Oh dear-" Duncan stammered in suprise, squeezing Izzy's hand with both of his to keep hold as the psychopath laughed in amusement, like neither of them were in the threat of being killed. She WAS swinging on a vine though . . .
Pulling Duncan closer into a hug she wrapped her free arm around his chest as he clung to her like a magnet, not wanting to let go for fear of the tornado.
"Oh my God!" he squeaked, hugging her tightly. "Please don't drop me!"
"You can count on it, Dunsie boy!" Izzy told him cheerfully, her voice full of determination though she had on a joyous smile. "Hold on!"
"What else am I supposed to do?" he snapped. Izzy didn't answer, but giggled at an annoying pitch, making Duncan shiver in slight fear; what was she going to do? . . .
Like being on a swing on a playground, she let go of the vine at its highest altitude, making her and Duncan practically soar off and crash into the hard ground below.
Izzy was the first in a sitting position, grinning like the madwoman she is. Duncan, after getting over the impact- shock, sat up quickly, staring fearfully at the still spinning tornado. He whimpered, obviously terrified. Izzy, also obviously, noticed this.
"It's okay, Dunsie! Tory just needs quiet!" she said, trying to calm him down. Frankly, he just got confused, so she pointed to the tornado, signaling she had named it 'Tory.
In the next five seconds, Tory had reached the exact spot Duncan had been stuck, and ripped the tree out of the ground, roots and all. Then something sharp and silver came shooting at the duo, specifically Duncan. The punk yelped, ducking just in time, defending himself with his arms.
Izzy had caught the object as it passed over his head, and pulled one of his arms off his head to show it to him: his knife. Duncan offered a sheepish smile, a bit embarassed.
That's when Tory died down, nothing but what seemed to be whisps of smoke, to which the wind ended up drifting away.
Izzy waved to it. "Bye Tory!" She handed Duncan his knife (which he pocketed immediatly), standing back up. Duncan followed and trailed after the redhead as she strutted over the lone tree Tory had torn from the ground.
"That's what happens when you mess with Miss Izzy Esquire's friends, Mr. Tree!" she told it as Duncan looked nervously around the devastated area- okay, not so devastated. The only thing out of the ordinary was the ripped up tree and the trail of dirt Tory had left on the ground. Suprisingly, the Confessional trailer hadn't been touched.
"There- there's not gonna be any more right?" he asked in a weak tone laced with unease and fright. Izzy, noticing his sudden vulnerability, turned quickly around and shouted, "Boo!" right in his face. This took Duncan by suprise, making him scream slightly and cover his head again. Izzy sniggered.
"Sorry Dunsie!" she apologized as Duncan removed his arms from his head, his cheeks tinted bright pink. She patted his mohawk, running her fingers through the green hair. "I couldn't resist! You looked super scared!"
"I was!" Duncan admitted, trying to look menacing in front of her without any sucess. When Izzy just giggled he sighed. "But . . . thanks for saving me. A lot." He had averted eye contact with the psychopath, which made Izzy suggest he doesn't thank just anyone . . .
"Aw that's okay!" she said sweetly, allowing Duncan to look back to her as she retracted her hand. "You were stuck, and I was just passin' through. Hey, you hungry?"
Slightly taken off gaurd, Duncan replied with a flat, "No." Then his stomach growled.
"I beg to differ!" Izzy sais happily. "Whatcha want?"
Duncan shrugged and Izzy grabbed his hand, leading him back to the Craft Services Tent. "Ice Cream it is!"
Back at the Tent, Chef happened to be the only one remaining. All the castmates had run oof to their trailers when the train noise had gotten to loud. Chef hadn't seemed to have noticed.
Then his two archenemies walked through the flapway, Izzy and Duncan (or as he liked to call them, the Crazy and the Juvie). He narrowed his eyes. Izzy did as well. Duncan didn't seem to care.
"Whadaya want slackies?" he snarled.
"Chef Hatchet, sir," Izzy said. "Dunsie and I request two vanillas with jimmies." Chef gave her a look.
"She said we want some ice cream with sprinkles," Duncan translated.
"And why would I give that ta you?" Chef said gruffly.
"Trailer was gonna tip to junk if we didn't stop Tory," Izzy explained. Again, Chef gave her a look.
"The Confessional was gonna get destroyed if we didn't stop a tornado," Duncan told him, shivering at the memory. "And guess who's have to fix it?"
"Alright, alright," Chef gave in. After searching in his fridge he found the vanilla ice cream, and gave tham their bowls. Izzy dipped her spoon into the frozen treat immediatly, pulling it out and accidently flicking it onto Duncan's face. She giggled.
Then Chris walked inside the Tent, his hair slightly (and I mean SLIGHTLY) messed up. He glared.
"Izzy!" he said. "You're not supposed to be here! They kicked you off twice already!"
The redhead just shrugged. "Tory was doin' balley 'round near the forest," she said, putting a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. This time, Chris gave her a look.
"A tornado was twirling over by the Confessional," Duncan said simply, not bothering to wipe off the ice cream still splatered on his features.
"Oh," Chris said, fixing his hair. "Well, Izzy still can't be here."
"But I want to be here!" Izzy said, pouting ever so slightly.
"Aw, to bad," Chris said with EXTREME fake care.
"Dude, just let her stay," Duncan sighed. "It's be good for ratings." That sparked Chris' intrest. "That," the delinquent continued. "Or I'll screw with your hair."
"No!" Chris wailed. "Okay, okay! Izzy can stay!"
"Woohoo!" said psychopath cheered, finished with her dessert. As with Duncan (who hadn't even touched his), it was all over her face. She jumped onto Duncan's back, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his stomach like a padlock.
"God you're so hyper!" Duncan commented, just making her laugh. Chris grinned, while Chef just watched, slightly amused.
"New couple are we?" the host said to the two, snickering. Both glared at him as he laughed.
"You're lucky I don't screw with your face Drama Dork," Duncan growled.
"Seriously," Izzy agreed, eyes narrowed. "You're lucky I don't get out my Grease Grenade!"