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Rated: E · Draft · Other · #2216025
Just a stream of consciousness based upon pain I am currently feeling.
He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself.

How possible is it to be the unwilling participant of a game that you have set the rules for so long ago? If his life were an example, then one would have to allow that it is more possible that one would imagine.

Long ago, he had set his mind to prove that it was painfully easy to play this game and he was confident that his opponent did not matter. The skill level and the awareness of his opponent did not matter. The feelings of his opponent did not matter. Nothing mattered to him except the skill that he had in playing the game, because he eventually was going to manipulate enough so that he won the game.

She had not necessarily chosen to be a player at this point, but she had been forced into the game by his actions and words. She was oh-so-easily enticed, however, and the game was not hard to learn. In fact, she began playing the game with an eagerness that had impressed him. He wasn't convinced at this point that she was aware that the game existed, but the way that she was playing was so masterful that he had to assume... it seemed obvious... it was plain for people to see...

There was no ducking or dodging going on in this game. As both players entered the game area, the tokens that were exchanged were pleasant. In fact, he began to long for the tokens that she gave him and it was the absence of those tokens that had gotten him to this place of anguish.

Both players thought that they were performing well on defense, but neither was moving out of the way of the various things being hurled in their respective directions. There were no obvious defensive maneuvers, but there should have been for all of the painful projectiles that hurtled through the air and pierced the skin of both. The hard part was that these projectiles were not exclusively harmful - rather, some of the things that they threw at each other healed or strengthened the other. It was hard to figure out which was which until the blow had been landed. The way she hid was she was doing to him - he had to admit her skill was beyond most of the players he had seen before.

There was no official start or end time, but both knew that the game had started nonetheless. Both knew it, but neither would acknowledge that they were playing a game. No - both were competitive beyond measure at this point and had to win the game.

The game had no rules, but both knew the lengths to which each could go without forfeiting. Both were fair people... but fairness had never entered the minds of either as the game unfolded. At this point, whatever was thrown was fair game... no matter how old the projectile was or how either decided to refashion the projectiles before loading them into their verbal ammunition to be hurled out as needed. There was no type of ammunition off limits at this point, because there had been no discussion of the rules of engagement, and no amount of damage done would stop the next one from coming.

Except that the damage was not obvious and there was the slim chance that both participants would be pained at the injuries caused by their weaponry, so they would show mercy if the opponent would just admit the harm. Both were strong, though, and stubborn. How could one actually admit the injury caused? This would be a sign of weakness and cause an end to the game that was at the moment simultaneously painful and euphoric.

This was a game that would continue until one was incapable of continuing or one submitted. The very act of submission would be fashioned against the loser in such a way that it would be difficult to win any game in the future... so submission was largely not an option for either player. Even when there were submission attempts, the attempted submissions often were not believed or accepted, so it was necessary to fight on.

But this was a game... and one that was not always fun for participants. This was a game that had been set in the minds of both, and it could start at any time. Both stated their disdain for playing, but both of them started it at different times despite their protestations that they did not wish to engage in games. And both knew that the game was wrong, and it would probably never end. Still, they played... oh, how they played... because playing is all that they had ever really known and they brought all of their previous experience to this battle.

If the battle ended, that meant that one of them was rejected as being unfit for the game. It was the fear of both that the other would think them unfit... so the game continued... and continued... and continued... with neither able to push towards the games being cast aside and the future being real.

Winning. Winning. They both had to win.
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