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What are you afraid of? And what are you made of?
Flesh and bone
And I'm running out of time,
Flesh and bone
"I'm coming like a wyvern in heat."
If someone tells me it's wrong to Hope for Victory, I'll prove them wrong every time.
Date: August 25th, 1991
The warm wind of late August swept its way through the city. Most people were outside enjoying the sun while it lasted, but Harley Pine, the son of the mayor, was not one of them. He strode through the city purposefully, not bothering to wave or to say hello as he often did, his stormy gray eyes focused on the tan leather briefcase sitting in his arms. In this briefcase, he had been told by one of his father's advisors, was something important. However, the briefcase was locked and there was no key; Harley hoped that meeting up with his friend would help solve the mystery of this briefcase.
As he approached the coffee shop, he saw his friend sitting inside, smiling brightly with two coffee cups beside him. Harley entered the shop and pulled up a chair to the table were his friend was sitting, a toothy smile on his face.
"So?" asked Harley. "What is it? You said that you wanted to discuss this."
He lifted up the tan briefcase and set it on the table. His friend's eyes flitted momentarily to the briefcase, but he quickly pulled his gaze away and stared directly into Harley's eyes, lifting one of the coffee cups carefully and placing it in front of Harley.
"Drink," said the friend.
Harley chucked, although there wasn't a single note of humor in his voice. "You know I don't drink coffee. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and the caffeine isn't healthy anyways."
"I insist," muttered his friend, lightly nudging the coffee cup again. "It's very delicious, and a premium brand. I got decaf, just for you. It's made with special ingredients and it tastes much different than a normal coffee. Please try it; it is very expensive, and I wanted to provide you with a treat while we discuss our... business." The last word seemed to drip off his tongue like acid, and he looked up at Harley with a smirk on his face, eyes silently challenging him to refuse the gesture.
Casting the other man a sour look, Harley picked up the coffee and took a few sips. It wasn't too bad; it was slightly tart, and something about it tasted rather off, but it wasn't bad in the slightest. Setting his cup down on the table, Harley asked again, "What is it that you wanted to discuss?"
"It is a simple proposition," said the man, his smirk growing wider. "If you give me a thousand dollars... I will give you the antidote."
"I don't have a thousand dollars."
"That's bad luck, then. You are going to die."
It is now Day 1.
This phase will end Sunday, March 10th at 7:00 PM EST, OR when over half the votes (7) are on a single person.