"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Viewing Single Post From: Dude, how come I feel like i'm not in Kansas anymore?
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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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Dougal continued to just sit there, head buried in his hands, and let tears stream down his pale face, ignoring the sounds and sights around him. He still hadn't even thought to check the two bags that were his only remaining possessions. He was breathing heavily, his mind trying to make sense of the situation. Would he be able to play? Would others be able to play? Was someone dead already? What weapon had he been rolled? How was his family and friends taking this? What human could do this and be able to sleep at night? Why the hell had he been in the one school unlucky enough to be affected by this? He was a good person, if a bit of a prick sometimes, he had his life to live, he had done NOTHING to deserve this. Nobody in his year had done anything to deserve it. NOBODY. They were just an average school in boring St. Paul, Minnesota, a state which the terrorists were meant to pass up on and focus on California and New York and whatnot instead....

His head was aching. His stomach felt like shit. His throat felt dry, his legs hurt and he just felt like shit in every humanly possible way.

He then noticed someone talking to him, trying to console him. It was Albert Lions, one of his best mates at Bayview. Whereas Dougal was a pessimistic cynical nihilist who thought evil was inevitable (but it weren't meant to happen to him. No, Dougal was not expecting that) and that in the grand scheme of things his life was pointless (the grand scheme of things being one of the many things Dougal really did not give a flying fuck about right this second), Albert was a optimistic, happy-go-lucky fellow who....no, he was just naive, plain and simple. No way around it. Dougal always hung out with the naive optimists, his own girlfriend being a prime example. Dougal just didn't like most of his fellow nihilists, a majority of them being stereotypical obnoxious twats who read Nietzsche (who Dougal had never even considered reading before) and completely missed the point of it.

And Albert had picked a GREAT way to try and comfort him. Telling a joke. A shitty joke that everyone had heard before and he couldn't even tell right. Now was not the time. This was just making Dougal feel worse.

And without even thinking about it, Dougal clenched his fist and threw a punch, aiming right at Albert's face.
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Dude, how come I feel like i'm not in Kansas anymore? · The Mountain