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Dr. Nic
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How cute.
[ *  * ]
Nothing seemed right anymore, nothing seemed to fit and nothing wanted to sit well upon William's mind. Dominic was fleeing, Tiffany having long since left them, and there he still sat, staring at the gun in his hand. This wasn't right, none of this should have happened. He shouldn't have this, he shouldn't have ever had to hold a gun or see a gun or fire a gun or point it at someone or... He closed his fingers around the grip of the pistol. Contempt was there, anger was there, but they had panic and paranoia to contend with; He looked upon the weapon, always feeling as if he was close to throwing it away but never quite capable of letting go of it.

I made my decision.

"That's right."

He had. Before Tiffany had left, before Dominic had fled from him, he had made his decision. The gun was fear, it was power, it was weakness and it was strength; It was everything he hated and everything he wanted. Everything he wanted to be rid of and everything he desired to possess. But he had already made his decision; It was his and his alone, and only he could decide how it would be used. The responsibility and the burden was his to bear, and whatever his choices to come would be, he would have to face them.

Abusus non tollit usum.

"Misuse does not remove use."

It was something he had heard a long time ago, something he had associated with his unfortunate business in the past, something he used to justify his actions. It took new meaning now that it had something to attach that meaning to; He had made a mistake, forcing Dominic to stare down the barrel of the weapon. But that one mistake, that horrible mistake, did not remove the thoughts from his mind. What if he could use it to protect others, to protect himself? A better use for the power he had been given, a purpose behind it and an intent to fuel him.

"Protect others huh?"

What was it that Tiffany said?

"Everything is going to be alright... is that right?"

He couldn't answer that. No matter how hard he wanted to, no matter how badly he wanted an answer to come forth and reveal itself to him, he couldn't answer that question. He couldn't be sure that everything would be alright, on his own or with Tiffany, if he used this power with good intent or if he gave in to the fear. The chances for something to go wrong were always there, always looming in his thoughts, hesitation slipping into his once determined mind. The same hesitation that kept him from putting away the gun, the same hesitation that almost made him kill Dominic... but it was also the same hesitation that kept him from killing Dominic, the same hesitation that kept him from firing upon Tiffany before he knew it was her.

Enough.

He lifted his head, looked away from the gun, in the direction Tiffany had run off in. He couldn't just let her go off alone, and sitting there wasn't going to get him anywhere. He pushed himself up, and straightened himself out. He'd spent too much time sitting there, too much time thinking to himself, and couldn't afford to get lost in his thoughts much more. No, he had to stick to his decision, for better or worse, and move on; It was the only thing he could really do now, just continue on and keep moving, and stop looking back. Nothing was going to change unless he changed it, and the first step of that was simply to start moving.

"Hmm?"

Over where Tiffany had originally sat was a bag, Tiffany's bag; She'd forgotten it with all that had been happening, left it behind without a thought, continuing on her path. He would have been jealous of that strength, of that resolve, if he hadn't seen the fear in her eyes before. She was just like him, no better, no worse, and the only difference was that she had made her decision sooner than he had. But that ended; He had a goal, a plan, and he was going to keep moving from now on. He would make his choices and face the consequences of them. And his first choice had been to follow Tiffany, to return her bag to her, to make better use of the power in his hand. So, he moved to where she had been and picked up her bag, the third one he carried, and held it in his once empty left hand; It was heavy, and carrying all that weight upon his frame would likely wear him out, but it wouldn't last long.

With determination in his eyes, he followed after Tiffany.


Gun in hand.



His choice was made.

[Boy #61 - William Hearst. Continued in Morning Comes Slowly.]

[End of Thread]
Edited by Dr. Nic, Sep 16 2010, 06:47 AM.
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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Everybody's Changing · The Felled Forest: North