Dachshund in Circles | Morgan | Monotheatre | Re: Everything
In hindsight, Morgan knew that his ideas weren’t exactly the greatest, and when they were shot down, it didn’t come off as a surprise to the football player. It was okay though. Minus all the screaming and arguing, everyone seemed to have a handle on things. Maybe? It was becoming a convoluted trainwreck that he had a hard time following. Just when he thought he could actually know what was going on. Boo.
Morgan couldn’t understand the anonymous votes though. There were no explanations behind them, and yet, Haruka and Toshio were being voted.
Alarming. He didn’t get it. Well, he couldn’t tap out of the ring just yet. He didn’t have anything to contribute aside from the checks that came his way, but other than that, the only reason why he was staying tuned in was because his name was brought up every now and then. That or Kroger. E-Excuse? He would very much prefer if people didn’t feed his goat strange things. Pass it to him instead, thank you very much.
There was no free interval for him to sneak in a goat joke, especially since there seemed to be a conflict rising with Kenichi and Naoya. Morgan’s eyes shifted between the two before his gaze landed on the voting panel. This was tricky. He wasn’t quuuiite sure what the answer was. People seemed to be rather split, and usually, he followed along with the crowd. The exception would have been for Itona since Morgan didn’t quite mean to space out until the voting period had passed. This time was different. He simply didn’t know. He had stared, boring holes at the possibilities, but before he knew it, Morgan’s vote had defaulted due to time running out. Oops.
Things were getting so loud though, almost uncomfortably so. Almost was the keyword. He was fine with this, right?
He had to be. Cursing. Yelling. Violence. Why would anyone -actually- do this? Of course, it was all pretend.–
‘…then you are a coward, and you are a fool.’
Morgan froze upon hearing Starre’s words, desperate smile still tugged at his lips. He had thought about what to say. It was easy enough. He could just joke about fool’s gold or something since gold flakes had been part of trial. He opened his mouth to try, but he found himself unable to. Words were stuck in his throat, and his skin felt clammy and tacked with sweat. Uncomfortable now? Yes. The football player found himself from leaning across his podium to slowly slipping to the ground. Or something akin to this.
Yeah, he was going to have to call for time out now. Doogbye.