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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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Awaiting his death took all the time in the world. To simply wait to die was a regrettable thing, but Ivan would rather he die with dignity than run from Imraan. To run would just prove he was a monster trying to escape his punishment. Then again, no matter what he did, he was still a monster. Louis was always a fan of this 'show', and would constantly annoy his big brother with all the wild and crazy antics that James Brown, Branca Braunstein, and whoever else was doing on the island.

"You know that show's just a stupid fad, as terrible as the rest of reality TV. Nobody likes it but you."

"Yeeeeeeeah that's bullshit, Stum- I mean, Ivan... Everybody in my grade is watching it!"

"Proving, once again, your entire year is comprised of idiots. ... And mine, actually."

"Pfft, you need to get out more! Come on, bro, let's go! Put 'em up, put-... oh god, wait, not the noogie! No, NONONO NO I'm sorry! UNCLE! UNCLE!!!!"


Louis was probably watching, just like the rest of the city, the rest of the country. They all knew what he did, so who was to say that he wasn't a monster? That's why there was no home for him anymore, no victory waiting for him at the end of this hellish tunnel. He'd return to society, but they'd always look at him. They would always know what he did, and it wouldn't take long for Keith's parents or cousin or whoever to seek justice, whether through law or vigilantism.

The only home he had was the one he now sought to relive in his mind, waiting for his final moments. And so, Ivan kept his head low, waiting for Imraan to speak the death sentence until... words came from somebody else. They were strong, pleading, and carried with them more iron than any forged weapon on the island. Most surprisingly of all, they came from Tabi.

Ivan turned to look to her, the pain in his heart ousting that of his arm, or the pounding headache of stress following Imraan's arrival. She had been there when he did what he did, and had been in such shock and distress. All that time they had been companions of a sort, she could never really look at him, get close to him, trust him... and that was sensible, given who the girl was travelling with. If Ivan had wanted to kill her, he could have easily managed, moreso with his new weapon. He felt like a weapon, a sharp blade or a defective gun, and Tabi had to always tread carefully around him lest she risk injury to herself.

And now, she was defending him in the face of a man literally a foot taller than either of them, and carrying a weapon that could blast them both away before they could move more than three feet. Ivan felt like Tabi always owed him so much for what he had done for her; saving her from Clio, dragging her along and protecting her (committing a terrible act in the process), saving her from Nick... but she never owed him anything, not after the pain he caused her.

But she gave everything anyway.

He forced back the tears; now was not the time for crying, not yet, though his voice was completely choked up. Or it was, before the loud blast of gunfire evacuated all of Ivan's thought processes, and instinct took over. Before his next rational thought, he lept to Tabi with his injured arm forward and and pushed her to the ground, collapsing downward next to her. Was she dead? Was he dead? There was no time to wonder about that, since he had dove within arm's reach of their last shot at salvation.

Screaming in pain as well as fear, with a healthy dose of unmitigated fury, Ivan grasped the Pancor Jackhammer with his right hand, sat up and swung it to face Imraan, clasping the weapon with his other, dirt-caked hand. He hadn't been shot, at least... for some reason, the weapon seemed to be fired high, missing them, but he prayed Tabi had not been hurt. Right now, the immediate concern was to level his own weapon at Imraan.

"I've changed my mind! I'm not dying yet, so get out of here!"
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