[b][h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1]
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[center][img]https://s.aolcdn.com/dims-shared/dims3/GLOB/crop/3280x2050+0+121/resize/640x400!/format/jpg/quality/85/https://s.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/midas/73ce8167c00ca1dc68e8468a67c07477/202780896/Photo+Credit+Jordan+Matter.jpg[/img][/center]
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[center][color=4286f4]Location:[/color] Pier
Skills: N/A[/center] 
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	Arthur flinched a bit at the fact that his deflection failed. He didn't have a good way of articulating [i]why[/i], but he really didn't want to play that game. It was just a like a ball of indecision, and flashbacks, and anxiety welled up inside him at the prospect. He felt like he wanted to throw up, but this wasn't like the fear that he'd die, or that someone he knew was in danger, it was just like a bad thing had already happened, and now that bad thing was always going to have happened, and there was fundamentally nothing that could be done about his feeling because of that.

	It was for this reason, that the kidnap attempt by a monster was almost [i]preferable[/i] to continuing to focus on the feelings inside him. Spilling out of the car, Arthur fell to his knees while trying to get out, only to shakily stand back up after that. His body felt like jello, shaking under any pressure. He had to calm himself down if he was going to be actually useful in this fight, he had to calm himself the fuck down. Taking a deep breath in, he drew his weapon, and closed his eyes for a moment, pushing down the feelings inside him for a few moments, for the sake of survival.