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V3 World Heavyweight Champion
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((Any GMing here was approved))

"You killed him! He was my best friend and now he's gone!"

Nik didn't even have time to think. There was Craig Hoyle, alleviating Nik of any and all wrong doing, only to be interrupted by the angry shouts of those around him. Nik back away from Craig as Owen came running over to the boy. Nik looked down at the hands that had brought about the pain and suffering the boy was feeling. He still held the Colt 45 tightly in his right hand, Craig Hoyle's blood smeared across the black rubber grip on the handle.

Fiona approached the scene, responding to Nik's previous call for help. By the time she arrived there was nothing left for her to do. However, instead of remaining quiet, Fiona used this opportune time to choose the wrongest of wrong tones to use in announcing that if anyone else was feeling particularly ballsy, they would end up hurt.

Stupid, stupid girl.

Sure enough, despite the warnings of the festivally plump girl with the axe, and the Swedish hockey player with a gun, Owen rose from Craig's side.

"Bastards. You're all a bunch of bastards!"

Owne charged towards Nik and Fiona wielding the wooden sword, swinging wildly for the fences.

"Get behind me!" Nik shouted as he pushed Fiona backwards.

Nik turned to face Owen, every ounce of his body wanting to just point the gun and hope it stopped the attacker, but this was different. The look in Owen's eyes was fierce and unrelenting. Nik tossed his gun backwards towards Fiona and stepped forward to meet Owen's charge. The bokken whooshed through the air as Nik attempted to catch it before it struck. All Nik managed to do was deflect the blow so that it struck his shoulder. Nik grunted in pain as Owen reared back for a baseball style swing. This time though, Nik was able to grasp an end of the bokken. The two boys began a struggle for control of the weapon, both of them pulling and yanking as hard as they could. It seemed as though Nik's strength was prevailing. He could sense the smaller boy losing his grasp on the weapon, but as Nik pulled backwards, the ground claimed him once more as he felt himself trip. Nik fell square on his already throbbing left shoulder, and what felt like not even a second later, Owen had pounced, following Nik to the ground, driving the bokken long ways across Nik's throat.

Nik thrashed, trying to disengage himself from the position, but Owen had a solid mount and was using every ounce his weight to push the bokken down. Nik was resisting as best he could but the wooden sword was inching closer to his skin. Nik looked around wild-eyed for any means of escape. He never thought he'd be thinking it, but Nik Kronwall was regretting his decision to not make use of his gun. Sweat began to drip down Nik's face as he struggled against the weight of the boy.
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