http://40410.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] 40410.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] 40410 2010-08-11 10:21 am (UTC)

[action of still being capable of moral quandries, kinda]

[ The masky-statue can suck it!

No, better. The masky-statue can sit there while Alex lifts his hand to hit it, brings his foot back to kick it, pummel it until it breaks, smash it into little pieces, kill -



- kill?

He sways on his feet.

The air is screaming again. This little fuck attacked him and he deserves to--

Something rises in Alex's mind, unbidden: the name Seth.

What the hell?

Then he realises, and it expands: the fact that Seth is probably dead, permanently real-world dead, because of Alex, and that's if he's lucky; a memory, not a feeling, but a memory of horrible heavy guilt. And he can't think well enough to know if this is different.

Frustrated, confused, he waves his arms and sends a blast of wind into the masky-statue, making it skid down the corridor away from him. ]

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