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laZardo
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^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Goddammit, when are they going to start making out?))

'Paranoid as fuck' probably explained Rashid's current situation and state of mind much more accurately than outward appearances and actions gave off. If anything, the ones that often confirmed (and therefore debunked) paranoia such as this were always the people closest to them. And as it turned out, Rashid wasn't feeling so paranoid anymore now that he'd vented out all the anger and depression he could with his previous exclamation.

"Listen, Rashid", Harun began, moving the gunblade to the side. Rashid's eyes followed the long, glimmering blade to the side and practically focused on it for the duration of what Harun said next.

"I didn't mean to imply you were useless. To be honest, I really appreciate you sticking by me in this place. That means a lot to me. And...you made a mistake, I won't lie. But...frankly....I need you to get through this with me. We can't turn on each other, or else Danya's won. And Danya's a shithead who doesn't deserve to win...so...erm...let's get you back up on your feet."

Rashid stared at that hand for several seconds, his tears on his eyelids seeming to sink back into his face as he tried as hard as possible not to believe Harun's seemingly heartfelt sermon. He wanted to believe that this was Harun trying to pull a charade. He wanted more than anything to rebuke him right then and there, maybe even try to spit at him.

But what good would that do at this point? What good would any resistance or any prayer for salvation do, for that matter? He was a dead man walking without any weapon more than his pills. And with Harun practically controlling when that would happen, it wasn't as if he could do anything to prolong the inevitable.

Most of all, this was something he now, finally and quietly accepted at gunpoint. If Harun decided to pull the trigger at any point by now, he wouldn't die regretting anything. At least as long as he took the bullet or blade in that kind of spot that would allow him to make his final amends before his soul moved on.

"Ah fuck. I can get up myself...." Rashid groaned, moving his arms a bit closer to his side to prop himself up. Once he sat up he rubbed his eyes with his sleeve before slowly getting back onto his feet. His supply bag had been draped around his shoulder the whole time, thankfully sliding off to the side so his own back didn't land on it.

He'd embarrassed himself enough already with his sudden temper tantrum. Though given that this was SOTF, worse things could have happened. Maybe this act of stupidity would have actually killed him, like trying to remove one's collar thinking it wasn't more improved than the last game when a bunch of students tried to escape. Of course, he thought they were already dead too, and the fact that they had gotten so close (at least before the cameras cut off) meant that such a glitch existed in Danya's perfect plan, one that he wanted to forget about once it was resolved.

If anything though, it helped to entrench this quiet acceptance into his mind. Rashid would die, probably betrayed by Harun after a while, his parents would be watching, and the game would have a winner (not just Danya).

As he quietly dusted himself off, constantly looking at the ground, he quietly made a mental note to at least make sure he would die with some dignity, not just quietly.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Calculations · The Woods: Inland