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Greg The Anti-Viking
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On the left is a mod, on the right is a pre-made psycho...get the picture?
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Nathan glanced behind him and found that Brook was rushing towards him, gun in hand but a relieved expression on his face. Brook was a kind man, gentle, friendly and harmless when it came to track and field. Today, however he didn't nearly look as fresh and vibrant as he normally was.

Then again, Nathan would have applauded the man that woke up today and was able to skip amongst the daisies.

Nathan found himself relaxing slightly, at least as much as he felt he could with two guns hanging around his general vicinity. He felt himself breathing now, realizing that he had been holding his breath. He let go of the straps of his bag and glanced back to the duffel bag that he had left back by the stump.

He thought about the question asked of him. Friends he wanted to protect? Well, there really wasn't many, he found himself regretting the fact that he hadn't really made as much of an impact, he had a few people here and there on the track team, guys like Brook and Jason, but few others that he could think of right now.

"Well, nobody really...aside from all of us, that is...As for a weapon, I uh...I think I got some gun or something. Let me go check."

He dashed over to his duffel bag, dodging and leaping over the occasional log. Sure enough, there was the gun...It stared back at him, a metal shine cast down upon from the harsh sunlight reflecting back into his glasses. His arm cautiously stretched out and lifted it up from it's resting place. He gingerly carried the grip in his fingers, it felt so heavy already, like it was loaded, even though he knew it wasn't.

He dropped it back into the bag and zipped it up, in an attempt to hide it away, at least until he really really needed it.

"Yeah it's a gun guys," he shouted back, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "Got some sort of pistol it looks like..."

He began to walk back when he saw a figure off in the distance, there was no doubt about it, he saw Maf' in the distance, yet another good friend, one of the few that wasn't on the track team. He commonly worked out with him in the Bayview gym and the burly man was a good spotter when it came to lifting weights when he did so.

"Hey dude!" he called back out, he wanted to say more, ask how he was doing, see if he was alright, but the words were left hanging, and he couldn't think of anything more that he could say, he just clammed up and walked back to his friends. Waiting to see what they would do before making a move.
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B054:Oscar Trig-Smoker, Artist, Film Buff

Please, message me if you have ideas, I sure don't!

Fall down seven times...
Stand up eight...
Japanese Proverb
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Flowerhead · The Felled Forest: North