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Christof howled.

Why did he think punching a table again would make him feel better?

It did not.

It hurt.

He officially put Tables on his bad list.

Britannica wanted Candy not hurt fists.

The table wanted to keep its Candy and give her hurt fists.

This was unacceptable.

Britannica pulled all her focus from its scattered edges and honed in on the tables around her.

That one, that one will give me Candy.

She hit it with all her might.

That one did not give her Candy, instead it gave more broken fist.

Did... did he take a wrong turn somewhere? Merope stared at the table that was propped up in front of the door to Rage’s gym. This had to be a joke, he reasoned. One of the Trick or Treaters liked to flip tables. This had to be their work, whichever one it was.

Merope dropped to his knees and peered around the table, his eyes widening at the sight. There were so many tables. So many tables. Merope’s fins drooped quickly to the point where they felt heavy and disconnected from him.

How... How was he supposed to get through this?

Merope slowly inched backwards until he could stand up, his half-lip curling inwards to carefully rest between his sharp teeth. This wasn’t going to be easy. This was going to be anything but easy.

The boil crossed his arms, his tail swishing from side to side as he thought. It didn’t look like he could move it. Could he flip it? Probably not; he was a novice when it came to flipping tables.

He lashed his tail. This wasn’t getting him anywhere.

And it would continue to get him nowhere if he continued to stand there, he realized. Merope grew still as a quiet voice whispered, Again.

This wasn’t the first time he did nothing. Nor the second or third. Merope had lost track of the times his inaction took advantage of him.

He couldn’t do anything when his clanmates first stripped him of his old limbs.

He didn’t do anything when the Amityville gnomes carefully unraveled the protective spells his Leader placed on him.

He didn’t do anything when he couldn’t find Yui at the prom.

He didn’t do anything when the Fearados came and ransacked the Floresctival booths.

He didn’t do anything when a booth came crashing down on top of him.

He... He still wasn’t doing anything.

It began softly. Then it grew louder, and louder and louder.

Merope was shaking. The tremble in his shoulders rippled outward until his entire body was quivering. His half-lip curled, teeth bared. He was angry. No, more then that.

The rage erupted in a loud roar, as Merope threw his head back, words dropped in favor of a primordial scream of rage. He drew his fist up and slammed it forward with a step, his entire weight and fury behind the punch.



BONGGGGGGGGGG!

The sound vibrated, bouncing off of gym and table alike with a deep tone that rang within Merope’s chest. His fins shivered and shook as Merope rode the sound wave. The undead boil stood still as it crawled over his skin, ruffling his hair with the sudden wind-effect.

He continued to stand there, unmoving. He was empty. Blank. There was nothing before him; he was the nothing, the very action that he had taken before.

And then the pain began.

It was a small, dull ache that began on the knuckle of his middle finger. It rippled, oozing into the dip between his knuckles before reaching the top, spreading up through his wrist. His exposed bone seemed to vibrate in the air as the pain traveled up it, entering the elbow then shoulder.

The pain spread throughout his entire body, reaching the tips of his toes, fingers, and fins before it bounced back, wracking him a second time.

Merope fell to his knees, the jolt of pavement lost as he cradled his fist. A sharp hiss drew itself from his clenched teeth. He couldn’t think of anything; he was lost to the dull, roaring ache of pain that shot up through his hand.

He could only close one eye. His other eye was dull, the glow extinguished. It continued to stare sightlessly at the door. A spark returned to it as he twitched his injured hand, hissing again as the pain shot through his undead nerves.

Slowly, he gained awareness of the area around him. He was still kneeling in front of the gym. Why was he here again? Merope slowly shook his head, stopping and biting back a wince as his hand spasmed. He needed to fix that. Cricket? No. He was a lost fathoms leviathan.

He was a lost fathoms leviathan. He wasn’t a nobody. He wasn’t nothing. The light grew stronger in his lidless eye, wavering as Merope fought against the pain. Another hiss was drawn out from him as he closed his still good hand over his injured fist. It hurt, but the longer he held it still the less chance it would hurt, right?

...Something like that.

Merope staggered to his feet, waiting until the ground ceased spinning before he tried to take a step. Then another. And another. Slowly, Merope made his way back to campus, nursing his injured hand and pride.

Despite his injuries, he could still hear the small voice. Well done.

((SN: Marushii))

Mo returned looking with this expression

A range of many different emotions she wasn't sure why returned. Mo only ended up hurting herself and not just hurting herself but feeling very foolish yet she returned. Looking at yet another table she kept the same look she came with on her face as she struck the table as hard as she could. She left a small dent in the metal table which was a nice change of pace from the solid rock tables. She felt a little proud and when she turned around to walk away she fell her legs were like jelly. She stood up again dusting herself off and leaving with the same expression she came in with.

((SN: Trap))

This was Enya's last chance to punch through a table. She really hoped she could do it and would actually picked the right table. Slowly, she let the rage fill her up. Then she let out a battle cry and pummeled the first table she could see. Unfortunately, her fist met with metal and she let out a cry of pain. Nursing her sore hand, she left the gym.

((SN: Lilbabe80 cool )

Ru thundered through the gym again, and looked over the tables with a bit of a snarl. She picked one, and raised her hand again, pulling Ikki's sleeping form out of the way.

The metal clang and the crack in one of her knuckles made her shudder, as she winced, retreating from the gym again, and aiming for the nurse's office.

((GAIA DONT SCREW WITH ME I ROLLED >>))