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Mr. Danya
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((GMing approved)

Sandy’s head shot up when he heard Danny walk into the room. Shit.

Immediately he was on his feet, tensed against the wall and ready to flee. He couldn’t see the entrance from where he had been trying to calm down, so he had nothing to go on as far as who his company could’ve been. What he did know was that that really didn’t matter, because he still wasn’t at all ready to face any company period.

He picked up his bag and quietly moved around the shelves, making sure to keep one between him and where he remembered the entrance being. It didn’t take him long to get over there, and from behind the cover he could make out the silhouette with his head pressed against the door. Fortunately, his time in the darkness had given him an opportunity for his eyes to adjust, and when Danny turned around and started pacing down the room, Sandy recognised him pretty quickly.

He knew Danny from art class, but not much more beyond that. Danny’s art was ok, but not great, and his reputation around school did precede him. A social creature without a care in the world, one of many amongst Sandy’s peers.

That was not enough about Danny for Sandy to feel safe at all.

He could see the door was unobstructed from here, so it was possible that he could just slip out and find somewhere else to hide, but what would that solve? More people would show up, probably, and then he’d just have to keep moving. He had been here first; it should’ve been his place to hide. Danny should leave if he was told to.

Shit, he just wanted to be alone again.

He reached his hand into his bag, pulling out the bottle that he’d found when he was looking for his iPod. The rag stuffed in the neck mixed with volatile chemicals identified it as a Molotov cocktail, but Sandy didn’t know that. He knew it was heavy, and that it was better than having nothing. After all, this was a grand scheme where the terrorists wanted him dead, and his classmates were going to be the agents who did it.

The thought made him flinch.

Stepping out from behind the shelf, he managed to intercede himself between the door and Danny, though not intentionally. He gripped the bottle with one hand, and shot his guest an unwelcoming look.

“What do you want, Danny?”
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