Chicken Out Two: Chapter twenty two!

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Being the penultimate player to roll, Harry had watched quietly as the others went on with their turns. As it appeared, none were as unlucky as he was, or at least, that's how he saw it. But that's how humans are, isn't it? They downplay everybody else's suffering and consider their own misfortunes greater. Not that he wasn't unlucky. If he didn't know any better, Harry would've thought that the game had it in for him. Then again, the game seemed to have it in for everybody. Say, except for Troy and Barbara who had both gotten some upgrades to their bodies and minds.

Saying that Harry had lost some of his vigor would be an understatement. His previous card had, after all, changed his mind to match his meek body. The idea of continuing deeper into this wretched game of change was nothing short of terrifying to him. Still, the prospect of remaining like this forever was equally bad, if not worse. So his decision to continue with the game wasn't due to his willpower or some ember of his past self. It was simply a bargain between his fright of being stuck like this for life. How much worse could it get anyway? It's not like the game could take any more from him. It had already stolen his pride, that being his toned body, and his self assured mind. Anything else could not compare, at least that's what he reasoned.

There was some doubts across the room whether Harry would retire or not. Even at the beginning of the game, he seemed to be the one least eager to step in, only doing so because he didn't want to lose face among his peers. Suffice it to say, it came as a slight surprise when he picked up the die once more. Welp, he hadn't actually committed to anything before he uttered those fateful words. Everything until then might as well be considered bravado.

..Another four, and the third one in a row for Harry. Considering his streak of bad luck in terms of cards, at least his rolls are decent of average. What's more encouraging is the fact that his piece ended up on a blue tile. Fashion might be restrictive and very eye catching, but at least it is somewhat benign compared to the alternatives. Harry could use a new set of clothes anyway, seeing that his current ones are all made for someone of a ..fuller stature.

A little out of his depths, this Harry-boy is.
Longing for a body that is not longer his.
With his clothes oh so ill-fitting.
Accept a new wardrobe unless you'll be quitting.

Do you continue or chicken out?

A pretty straight forward message. While it did nothing to reveal the type of clothes he'll be receiving, it at least insinuates that they will fit a little better on his new frame.

Whatever. Fashion was the least of Harry's troubles. If the game truly was random, there was a chance that he might stumble across a favorable card. While having your sense of style permanently altered and limited is a definite downgrade from complete freedom to wear whatever, it was insignificant in the bigger picture. There was also the question of the weird die, and the odd pink tile in the middle of the board. Perhaps it was an undo tile? In that case, he could return his body to its former glory, and his mind should naturally follow. Perhaps he'll even gain from it! After all, his brain is currently programmed to match his physique. If he's a strong, macho guy in body, he should also become one in mind. All hope isn't out!

"I continue"

Just as it did with the others, his clothes vanished in a flurry of fabric, rearranging themselves into something else entirely. A more formfitting wardrobe that remained similar would be welcome. As long as it didn't force him to go naked, or wear something embarrassing..
To his chagrin, Harry's new clothes were nothing like his old style. In fact, using the word style felt like an overstatement in and of itself. These simple pieces of fabric could hardly be called fashion. They looked more at home on a geek that'd never bothered to put a single thought into their image at all. A simple black tee and some green shorts. Extremely minimalist in all the wrong ways.

"It ..could have been worse?"

Barbara tried to cheer the upperclassman up. Of course she did, she was a ball of sunshine and wanted to cheer on anyone who seemed like they needed it. One of the many good qualities that distinguished her from the nasty piece of work that was Sabrina.

"I guess so. Anyway. Hopefully I won't have to be like this for long, right Sabrina?"

Knowing that it was a similar predicament that pulled everyone into this mess to begin with, Harry was hoping to find some sort of solace with the other person who might know what he's currently going through. While they used to be friends, Sabrina's reaction wasn't one he expected. A slight look of disgust. The "You're really talking to ME?" type of look. As if he'd been reduced to this pathetic form, not only temporary, but permanently. Was she really that vain? How easy could she cast him aside? Just disregard all those years of friendship because he didn't look the part anymore?

Harry's fragile mind spiraled into thoughts of self pity and doubt. His only rescue came when Katt made a move for the die, accidentally brushing against Harry's shoulder as she did so.
She was so much in her own world that it'd become easy to forget she was even there at all. Just off in the corner minding her own business until she had to perform her own turn. What a drag..