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Viewing Single Post From: The Gadfly Cometh
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
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Bryony really didn’t want to step any further onto the docks.

There were far, far too many reasons as to why doing so was an awful idea. Alba clearly had no idea of Bradley’s infamous reputation, but Bryony was much, much more closely acquainted with it. She trusted him about as far as she could throw him with one arm tied behind her back; anything he said that looked like it would be a compliment or a friendly greeting would be twisted into an insult, and anything that was obviously an insult would be made even worse than you thought. Removing the ‘et’ from his description of himself painted a much more accurate picture of Bradley Grant.

Bryony could state with some certainty that she was scared of him. He reminded her of her sister far too much. The gun in Bradley’s hands only added to her terror, but in his defence, that had less to do with him as a person; she would have been terrified of it no matter who its owner was. The fact that such a stark instrument of death was just a few feet away from her made her feel sick to her core. The other boy was still a non-entity to Bryony. While that meant he wasn’t an active, certified threat to her, it also didn’t give her any more incentive to follow Alba onto the docks, and she had no idea what his general personality was like.

A little voice in the back of her mind forced her to remember that this wasn’t the same Bradley she knew and feared, back at school. This was a copy of him. The same, basic, core of the guy, but with some bits removed, and other bits, pertinent to surviving on this island, added. They were all copies of their Kingman selves, really. Bradley was a jerk and a bully, sure. But that could be it. There was no reason he would be an active threat to her life out here. Bryony had trusted a complete stranger in Alba earlier. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could end up trusting Bradley.

Bryony almost wanted to test her chances in the ocean again, but what other option did she have if not pushing forwards?

She shuffled forwards, still staying behind Alba, hands clasped tight against her chest, trying to hide in the other girl’s shadow. She felt like she should say something in response to Bradley, but all she could manage was a series of mumbles, a single word understandable in the mess;

“… ‘m okay…”


"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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The Gadfly Cometh · Docks