"Don't hesitate to aim for the finish line then," Matt says. He doesn't know Wrench, doesn't know his values and whether he's the type to hang back on somebody else's behalf or what. Without knowing the full board layout he can't tell at this point if the other man has been trying to win or not. He hates not knowing but he shoves down that silent frustration and makes his next move. A little soon to make assumptions.
Matt goes to the right and the same mocking "Uh oh!" sounds over the speakers when he steps onto the square. What's it going to be? At least in a fight he knows what kind of pain to brace for. He's always able to calculate more. The wait is the worst part, he thinks, almost laughing at how nervous he is compared to usual. He's interrupted by the discomfort of the air getting knocked out of his lungs. He gasps on instinct but the air seems to have disappeared.
Shit. The game is trying to make this worse by scaring him and probably disturbing Wrench as well. If he just- He holds up a hand toward Wrench, like he's telling him to just wait a minute and attempts to croach down and sit on the floor as gracefully as he can as his face and neck go red. At first it's a battle of patience- he's had worse, if he just stays calm he'll be- He loses concentration and his head hits the cold floor at some point. He hears Stick's voice in his mind, berating him for losing control, and panic sets in. What if he was wrong? What if he doesn't wake up in New York again? What if he's really dead? He didn't get to say everything he wanted to Foggy and Karen in Rome. Why didn't he fight harder?
With a jerk, as if someone kicked him to wake him up, he gasps and breathes again. He coughs violently as he struggles to sit up. "Really hate this game," he barely manages to rasp out.
tw: suffocation
Matt goes to the right and the same mocking "Uh oh!" sounds over the speakers when he steps onto the square. What's it going to be? At least in a fight he knows what kind of pain to brace for. He's always able to calculate more. The wait is the worst part, he thinks, almost laughing at how nervous he is compared to usual. He's interrupted by the discomfort of the air getting knocked out of his lungs. He gasps on instinct but the air seems to have disappeared.
Shit. The game is trying to make this worse by scaring him and probably disturbing Wrench as well. If he just- He holds up a hand toward Wrench, like he's telling him to just wait a minute and attempts to croach down and sit on the floor as gracefully as he can as his face and neck go red. At first it's a battle of patience- he's had worse, if he just stays calm he'll be- He loses concentration and his head hits the cold floor at some point. He hears Stick's voice in his mind, berating him for losing control, and panic sets in. What if he was wrong? What if he doesn't wake up in New York again? What if he's really dead? He didn't get to say everything he wanted to Foggy and Karen in Rome. Why didn't he fight harder?
With a jerk, as if someone kicked him to wake him up, he gasps and breathes again. He coughs violently as he struggles to sit up. "Really hate this game," he barely manages to rasp out.