"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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Brackie
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i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
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Nick, he wouldn't stop moving. From the moment Maf's large hands engrasped his thin neck, it was like someone shined bright flashing lights in his face. He recieved a wad of spit on the chest, a scratching of hands around the wrist, and even an attempted kick in the groin. It all proved worthless to the boy in front of him when Maf responded to each of these actions in kind with solemn silence. Not a struggle. Not a response. Although the most recent attempt to free himself proved more harmful, Maf remained vigilante.

He wasn't going to harm this guy any more than he already had. His force, the amount of exertion he'd put into trying to get this guy to tell him what he knew was nothing more than necessary. Maf wasn't a morally violent person at all, but this was proving to be a bad choice.

Closing his eyes, trying his best to ignore the fragile hits, he squeezed his hand.

It wasn't anything deadly. It was a brief but powerful pull against the throat, less than 3 seconds, after which he loosened slightly, back to where it was.

...what had he just done? He...he could have killed him!

Was there any real danger in actually killing the guy?

No, there couldn't have been, could there?

That was almost what he thought back during that football match...

He opened his eyes again. It was all just to find out what the guy knew...but he wasn't responding.

...necessary force.

Maf's left hand, which had been laying dormant this whole time, moved to his collar. This would show him, even if he didn't really mean it, how far he was willing to go to get a real answer, a straight answer...

He lay his fingers along the edge, only slightly recieving a grip on it. Closing his eyes, Maf sighed, then looked straight into Nick's.

"I don't want to do this, but if you don't tell me what I asked...I'll do it. I don't care that I'll kill myself, but you...you want to find Jenniifer. I need to find Jennifer. Tell me what I wanted to know."

This was it, the edge of it. The moment which would make or break him.

All the cards were layed on the table.
Edited by Brackie, Dec 3 2010, 06:56 AM.
I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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