"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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Korazon
don't make me cactus your bitch-ass to death
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated))

For Trent, everything was moving in slow motion. People were coming and going so quickly that it made his head spin. One of the comings was especially memorable, as Trent had been momentarily distracted by some new arrival, and a kid had taken that moment to come toppling down the hill, falling into the chasm below them. Judging by the sickening splat that he had made as his body had connected with the bottom, Trent couldn't imagine that he'd survived, and so in order to stop from betraying his cool exterior, he'd opted not to take a look and see who it was. He HAD looked up and seen the towering form of that Rasputin kid lumbering off from the area.

So that's how it's going to be, hm? We're here ten minutes, and already it's a dog-eat-dog mentality? Of course. It's like jail all over again.

More things happened around him, but Trent remained within his own mind, staring up at the space that Rasputin had recently vacated. Again with a jail analogy. He couldn't understand the sudden fascination of his brain to recall that horrible period in his life, but here it was, at the forefront and relaying old information to his brain in order to deal with the new situation that would likely become the new 'worst time of his life'.

"...and the last."

Getting lost in his own mind was probably the last thing that Trent wanted to be doing, and as such, he snapped himself out of his temporary reprieve. There'd be time for introspective thinking later on.

Or, perhaps he'd be dead.

Either way, the time for action was now. Finally taking a moment to glance at the other two students standing around him, he failed to put immediate recgonition to the faces. This wasn't surprising. Outside of the hockey team, the student council, and anyone who'd had the misfortune of crossing his way during his younger, more ...violent years, he didn't really socialize a lot with the other members of the student body. Most teenagers didn't believe in second chances. It was probably the reason that Trent would be dead within the next couple of days. Even still, as he looked at the two other, obviously frightened individuals, he knew that there was no reason to resign himself to dying. Weaponless, and with a myriad of enemies, many of whom likely had weapons with which to maim and kill, he knew that undoubtedly, it was an uphill battle.

Time to start climbing.

In response to the girl's question, Trent shook his head. Momentarily listening to the boy respond, he waited, and then chipped in with his own two cents.

"Absolutely not. There's nothing to be gained by killing each other. Escape is a good idea, but I can't imagine that it'd be very easy. We're at the bottom of a very large staircase right now, and it's going to take us a rather long time to make it to the top."

Strange metaphor aside, Trent sighed slightly. There would be no more time to relax. He felt his edge beginning to creep back up on him, and immediately he surpressed it. Those feelings, that person that he'd been before...while he may have had a use for those instincts before, and he knew that they could serve him well in this "game", he wanted no part of them. That wasn't who he was anymore, and if some form of peaceful solution couldn't be found, then...well...

...he'd figure that out later.

"I'm Trent. I don't know either of you, but I can assure you that I'm not looking to make any enemies while I'm here."
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Feeling Kind of Anxious · Southern Cliffs