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personification of adhd
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((Posting for a bit for Trav while he's away))
((Also, crap post is crap))

Cassarah could not believe a single word she was hearing. In all her time, she'd come across people like Peter, but only in theory, never with a single action behind their motivations. Aaron. He wanted to serve justice, but...he was just as inneffective as the rest of his group, Milo the mental retard included. But this...

There was a real threat here, not just to the poor boy on the ground behind Peter, but to Jackie. Peter had killed people, just like Jackie herself had killed, but they were different. Peter obviously didn't see it that way, and tried to...compare them?

Cassarah inhaled sharply at that particular notion, and...she let it all out.

"How dare you try to compare yourself to me, Peter." She spoke with confidence, and nothing was going to stop her, not that gun, not the threat of death, and not even the pleas inside herself begging her to hold back. "Are you talking about killing him for being a human being? This-this isn't war, Peter, it's terrorism, and you're taking part in it! You can't make these excuses for why you want to kill someone, for some...some petty vengeance. First thing you're saying that he deserves to die because he killed someone, and now you're absconding him for not hardening up like you are? Is that..."

She flicked her eyes down, then collected her words for the right thing to say.

"Is that why you murdered Jessie? Did she start crying too much, Peter? Is that what you've turned into, someone who goes around killing innocent people because they cry?"

Jackie didn't realise how much the words coming out of her mouth were going to shape what happened next.


Come on, Brendan, just hide.


Like you always do.



You're even a pathetic killer.

Come on.


Don't even try getting out of this.

You've gone too far.



There's a reason he wants to kill you.


Remember the word vigilante?

It applies aptly here.

He's a vigilante.

The island's knight in shining armour.

He's gonna save them.

He's gonna save them all.

He's gonna take out the people who deserve to die.

He's gonna be a hero.

You're just a name to him.

A statistic.

Not a person.

A statistic.

So go on.


In your head.

Under someone's bed.

Just do it.





Here, answer this, ignore everything else, just answer his questions, quickly.

What do you think you-

"Why should he shoot you right now?" Come on, get this through, you don't have much time.

Because I deserve to li-

Not good enough, bam bam, you're dead. Think of something, but just tell yourself.

I...there's people I need to speak to-

Still not good enough, bam to the head. Come on. Think.

There's...I can't do anything else but liv-

That's exactly what he's waiting for. He's waiting for a confession that you are NOTHING but a waste of space. Do not give him that. Do not give him anything. Just tell it all to yourself. Just because you've shut off your brain it doesn't mean you're completely helpless. You've got help besides me.

What are you-

"Peter. He doesn't need this. It was obviously an accident."


Jackie Broughten. Anti-social social leper, just like you used to be. You people gotta stick together, huh? Well, don't take this opportunity for granted. She's distracted you, so now...get out of there.


Get out of here. Get out of there. Just listen. You killed a boy named Steven Hunt. Accept that.

I...do. I do accept that. But how can I go on-

Easy. Do you know him?


Then stop whining. Wait until someone you love dies. Wait until your grief is worth spilling. Because it will happen, it's an inevitability.

You're wrong.

I'm right. I'm always. Right. I have been and I always will be right. So shut up, nut up, and get the hell out. Spill your grievances in your own time.


Here, I'll help you.

And Brendan took his first few blinks.

His retinas burned. His clothing smelt of mould.

But the messages remained intact.

He turned his head slowly towards the scene making its way to the forefront of his mind. There she was. There he was. Jackie Broughten and Peter Siu, both playing judge and jury with his life. They both wanted...wanted something to come of this kill.

But Brendan didn't know what to do, particularly as Jackie Broughten had caught a glimpse of him moving.

She blinked, flicking her eyes back to the scenic antagonist.

This is your first test, Jackie. You can save a life here, or you can end it. What will you do?



"So who are you to decide who gets to live here? That shouldn't be in the hands of someone who obviously has good intentions. If you get to choose who lives over who dies...you're a monster. If you think you deserve that right, Peter...you're worse than every killer here."

A deafening roar accompanied her final insult, echoing. Jackie's feet were glued to the ground as Cassarah did not wish her to stray.


Jackie's eyes shot past the immediate threat and settle on the retreating figure.


He'd just gotten to his bag when he was assaulted once more by the pop of a gun. His reaction differed. He did not fear it.

He grabbed his bag, and he ran.

Jackie could have sworn she saw something fall out of the bag and clatter aimlessly on the rock and ground, but right now, her thoughts were on a mere celebration of her first real victory.

At least, Cassarah's victory.

It even ignored the beeping that had suddenly taken up occupancy of their thoughts.

Dear god, I'm going to die here...

((Brendan Wallace continues in Tabula Rasa))
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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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