"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" he ordered himself, pinching his cheek, an arm still wrapped around his stomach. Regardless how many times he attempted to escape the horrid reality he was trapped in, it never worked. What he was witnessing was really happening, even if he tried to deny it.
Laharl was hurt, now practically being tortured by watching Flonne face such horrid treatment. And Larxene, she was there, responsible for all this. Death, despite his efforts didn't appear to have as much control of the situation as hoped. As for himself... He was utterly useless.
Pulling himself unsteadily to his feet, he knew there was nothing he could do. He had only been kicked, nothing compared to the others. Yet it was enough to greatly injure him, due to his small size. His arms wrapped themselves tighter around his thin frame as he watched.
He'd of loved to jump in. Even now, the image of running in and bitting Larxene was worth a million grubs. He had it all planned out: he would run in, distract the organization member leaving an open spot for Death to strike. He would knock her out and the day would be saved.
Of course, as great of a plan that was to Timon, the success rate was low. He was better off sticking to his original plan: running away. It was shameful and selfish to simply leave his friends, but it felt like the only solution other than to stand there and watch them fall one by one.
Larxene still none the less frightened him, even if his other plan of action could happen, he was to cowardly to attempt anything except run away.
Re: 12:45ish (Inside Tent) Cont'd
Laharl was hurt, now practically being tortured by watching Flonne face such horrid treatment. And Larxene, she was there, responsible for all this. Death, despite his efforts didn't appear to have as much control of the situation as hoped. As for himself... He was utterly useless.
Pulling himself unsteadily to his feet, he knew there was nothing he could do. He had only been kicked, nothing compared to the others. Yet it was enough to greatly injure him, due to his small size. His arms wrapped themselves tighter around his thin frame as he watched.
He'd of loved to jump in. Even now, the image of running in and bitting Larxene was worth a million grubs. He had it all planned out: he would run in, distract the organization member leaving an open spot for Death to strike. He would knock her out and the day would be saved.
Of course, as great of a plan that was to Timon, the success rate was low. He was better off sticking to his original plan: running away. It was shameful and selfish to simply leave his friends, but it felt like the only solution other than to stand there and watch them fall one by one.
Larxene still none the less frightened him, even if his other plan of action could happen, he was to cowardly to attempt anything except run away.