Hands were shaken, an agreement reached. Over the bodies of their fallen leaders, two new spokesmen were chosen. Adonai and Jakko clasped hands warily, and with that a pact was formed.
Kill their killers, before they can strike again.
By nightfall, however, that determination had died out. The people went home to their ramshackle apartments, no closer than they had been that morning.
The sun rose.
Adonai looked out his window, squinting in the glare cast off the sea. He blinked, surprised; something was not right.
He walked to his window, feeling it with his hand. Sometime during the night, his glass pane had been replaced with an inch-thick one of some kind of plastic. A good thing, too; three bullets were buried halfway into the pane, cracks running out from them in a circular pattern.
He studied the trajectory. These bullets had come from the fire escape of the building opposite his. They had been aimed at his bed-- the very bed in which he had been sleeping.
This window-- whoever had put up this window-- had saved his life.
Day 2 ends at 1AM EST this upcoming monday. All game-related material must be in to me by that time.
Why So Green And Lonely? We Are Accidents Waiting To Happen.