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Viewing Single Post From: Waking Up is Hard to do
Dr. Nic
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How cute.
[ *  * ]
No.

No. No. No.

Not yet, too soon, too risky.

Don't need to hurt them, just wait for the opportunity.

Deep breath.


Everything came back to him in that moment, realizing just what he was planning on doing, realizing just how close he was to committing himself to fighting in this 'game', to participating and putting his strength to the test against his classmates; The realization what he was willing to do weighed on his mind as he loosened his grip momentarily upon the branch in his hand, as he stopped his slow stride forward. Would he really do that? Would he really attack someone else to take their assigned weapon? He knew that he could, that it would be easy, simple, that he was confident in his own abilities, sure enough in himself that no one could stand against him; But was he really willing to use what he was taught, the techniques his father taught him to defend himself in this world, would he really use them without reason on his classmates?

His will wavered, his determination to disarm the two people in front of him unsure; They weren't dangerous, were they? How could he be sure that they would hurt someone, to be sure enough to do something about it here and now, to justify attacking them? But if he didn't, they could go on to do more harm to others, they could make use of what weapons they had been assigned kill another person. He didn't want them to have to deal with that, or for others to die from his inaction; He was the one responsible now, the one who would decide what would happen. It was his choice, and his alone.

Would he attack them, disarm them, prevent the possible deaths and injuries they could cause.

Or would he take the risk and leave them, unsure of what they were capable of doing.

I can't let anything happen to them.

Familiar faces flashed before him, voices of his friends passing through his mind, the ones he cared for and the ones he loved; The ones he'd spent time with, the ones he'd experienced the world with. Would he risk their lives by leaving a loose end, by leaving Nick with his molotovs and Andrea with her... what did she have? He didn't know, he didn't get a good look at what it was before he approached them, he didn't know what exactly she held within that pack with her name on it.

I never saw it.

He lied already, he had said they had nothing. Molotov Cocktails are not 'nothing'. Was Andrea's assigned weapon similar? Was she even more of a threat to Alex, to others, than Nick was? They already lied to him once, but could her weapon be worse than Nick's? His blank stare shot to her bag, the closed container upon her back, trying to make out a familiar form among the folds; But nothing matched what he saw, nothing he could think of made such an indentation to match. But he knew it was heavy, the way it hung from her back.

A large weapon.

Panic and paranoia washed over his mind, scenes of death and sorrow and pain filling his thoughts. His grip tightened again upon the branch, his brow furrowing. Anger and contempt and fear and worry and paranoia and rage and.... He couldn't let that happen. He knew they would do something, he just knew that they would be dangerous; Nick's attitude and Andrea's history with this 'game', they were flashing signs, warnings. His eyes narrowed upon the molotov that Nick held. He had to stop it from happening, to keep them from doing anything.

I have to. I have to.

He stepped forward once more.

The world was silent, the silence deafening, nothing moved and nothing remained in place.


His arms raised.



His body twisted.




He swung.
Boy #??? - Joshua Edwards
Hanging out somewhere, playing his heart out.
Writer and local retail slave at the comic book store.

Girl #??? - Viktoriya "Vika" Starikova
Floating in the void, unfinished and half-formed.
Hot headed member of the soft ball team, secretly wishing she could fly.

Those who were
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