"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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Viewing Single Post From: I Know What My Fortune Is
Iceblock
Survivor
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Wayne had been getting mixed signals - were they ignoring Darius or shoving hot dogs into his various orifices?

But it was soon clear enough that the answer was neither, and that the situation had gotten far more out of hand than he'd expected.

He didn't have to do anything about that. He really didn't. He wasn't involved. He'd just happened to be sitting there. It wasn't like he'd ever done anything worthwhile for anyone, least of all himself, so he damn sure didn't have to do anything now.

Let someone else handle it. Someone like Jonathan or Michael, both crowding around Darius, holding his shoulders, restraining, comforting, trying to calm him down. Someone like Junko, who was the host, whose responsibility it was to get the party under control. She was already doing so.

It didn't feel right, though. Perhaps it was that or just instinct that pulled Wayne to his feet, regret already urging him back down again as soon as he stood. He wasn't needed. Darius was taken care of. Raina was doing fine by herself, for a certain definition of fine that included throwing shit in people's faces for admittedly justified reasons - not to mention that she could have seriously hurt herself on the skewer that Fiyori had just handed her, falling like that. Darius couldn't have known, probably hadn't thought about or predicted her reaction considering he was as drunk as he was. But he had put Astrid's eye out in fourth grade doing something without thinking. That hadn't been malicious, either. This could have turned out the same way. It was a train of thought best forgotten.

Wayne took a step towards Raina, hand reaching out towards her upper arm - as if she would want to be touched again immediately after that. No. If he was going to insist on fucking up the situation and making it worse, better that it be unintentional. He retracted his hand before he made contact. Just stood next to her.

"You okay?" he asked, keeping his voice calm, steady. It was something that he was used to doing, and even now it was less for her benefit but instead to soothe his own nerves. "Come on. I can get you another beer - or we can take a walk somewhere else for a while, I guess." He scratched the back of his head. "I'm sort of put off alcohol now, anyways."
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I Know What My Fortune Is · After the Dance