🩸RIGOR MORTIS 🩸

@rigor--m0rtis

pfp creds to susite.art on Instagram‼️

127 posts

🥩• BLOOD! BLOOD! GALLONS OF THE STUFF! •🥩

Hey there, name's Rigor Mortis. You can call me Rigor, or Rig. Whatever floats your boat. He/him pronouns. The zones' one and only mortician-in-training and a professional taxidermist. Scratch cat is my ride-or-die, my detonator, not quite my favorite record but, hey, who knows what'll happen? Feel free t' shoot me a message 'f you got any questions, alright?

(21, cis male)

OOC INFO UNDER THE CUT

#kjrp #kjrp account #killjoy #killjoy intro #introduction #intro post #oc #original character #danger days

(A voice that could have been familiar comes through the radio. If the words had been soft, about lifelong pain and longing for affection rather than cold and sharp, maybe Rigor would know. But the words are sharp, cold, angry)

- why did you hurt Scratch. -

@cherri-cola-soda

(As if Rig wasn't thinking about enough, now he has to deal with someone asking about his biggest regret to date. Someone who sounds vaguely familiar, but not someone he knows just by voice. He knows a lot of people like that, through his work. He huffs, responding in a blank tone.)

--He shoved me. And said some shit I couldn't just sit there and take. It was.. It was impulsive. I didn't mean to hit him that hard.--

(There's a tinge of guilt in his tone, but not nearly enough. Maybe he's just trying to act tough.)

cherri-cola-soda

- ……………. why did you hurt my boyfriend. -

(The voice is, if possible, even colder. There’s really only one person he could be talking about)

(This time, he doesn't hesitate to respond, his tone much more firm.)

--Because he hurt scratch. You should ask him what he did. Or does he not fucking remember?--

(He sounds angrier than before, his words sharp.)

--He hit Scratch first, so I hit him back. I don't care what happened before the fight. He got what he gave.--

cherri-cola-soda

- he’s fucking concussed with broken ribs. He barely remembers how many times he’s hit his head. Why don’t you ask Scratch what happened? He probably remembers why the two of them were fighting. -

(Cherri Cola is mad. And not the shouting mad, the crying mad. He’s the cold fury of a winter wind storm, blowing dust)

(Rig scoffs.)

--Y'know, I did, actually. And he said your bitch of a boyfriend wanted to fight, came up with the idea in the first place. Wanted to test out how much Scratch could hurt, now that he actually can. Riled him up, hit him first. How fucked up is that?--

(He chuckles bitterly, just as angry but not showing it as much through his tone. Instead, he's taunting and blunt.)

--If you kept yourself alive in the first place, maybe you could'a kept him from going to the track. This is all your fault, isn't it, Cola?--

cherri-cola-soda

(He sucks in a breath, tense)

- you- you don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it. You don’t get it at all! No fucking wonder Scratch died! You don’t get it! -

(This clearly hurt. He doesn’t even tell Rig off for calling them Cola, mind caught on the fact that he doesn’t understand, and he isn’t trying)

--No, you don't fucking get it!--

(He raises his voice, almost cracking his radio from how hard he's gripping it.)

--Imagine seeing your best friend's corpse, skull blown across the back wall of your own fucking house, and when he comes back, he doesn't even fucking tell you he's alive! You don't know how much I've done for that kid, how much I've sacrificed for that kid! Don't you fucking tell me what I don't know. You don't know shit!--

cherri-cola-soda

(He has to remind himself that Rig’s on the other side of the radio, that they’re not in danger)

- did you ever stop and ask why? Why do people kill themselves? Do you think I want this!? That I want to cry myself to sleep half the time, that I want to go hungry, that I want to fight for every goddamn shred of happiness? That I want to put everyone I love through this? What would it take for you to shoot yourself? Can you understand? Can you even try? Did you fucking ask? Did you try to understand why Scratch was hurting so bad he killed himself!? -

(The radio grows warmer in Rig’s hand, zapping him as Cherri forces air back into their lungs. Because how dare this man? Because that’d been the first time Cherri’d seen Scratch look happy like that, seem so clear and genuine. And this man slapped him)

(Rig drops the radio with a surprised yelp, flicking the burning sensation from his palm before looking at his hand briefly with a huff. How the fuck? Maybe it was just a coincidence. But it only makes him angrier. He picks up the radio again, sitting against the wall as he talks into it, not quite yelling anymore but still very angry.)

--You know, seeing him dusted almost made me want to. But his best friend was there with me. She was horrified. I couldn't do something like that in front of her. That's a decency neither you or Scratch seem to have.--

(He takes a breath, sounding more numb as the words continue to flow.)

--I don't know why zey did what zey did. He knows I'd help zem, but he didn't tell me anything. I noticed, I checked on him, I bandaged him up when he came home from getting back into fighting again. Him dusting himself? That hurt me. I tried, and he did it anyway. Can't you understand how angry that'd make someone? How angry I am that, despite everything, it wasn't enough to keep him alive. So, yeah, maybe I don't understand. But I'm not a monster.--

cherri-cola-soda

(Cherri sounds angry too, not really registering the accidental shock)

- then why would you want to cause any more hurt? It’s shitty and it hurts, why would you hit him!? Because, believe it or not, that hurts! Can’t you see that? See that all of this hurts? I- … if he’s your best friend, help -

--I.. He..--

(Rig stumbles over his words, trying to find something to say, but he eventually groans angrily and barks into the mic.)

--I don't need to explain myself to you. And, frankly, I've got better things to do than piss around trying to justify what I did to you. So, you can either give me a time and place or you can keep wasting my time, Cherri.--

cherri-cola-soda

(He thinks for a moment. This is stupid. They can’t, or at least shouldn’t drive)

- TCM’s. A week from now. I don’t care what the hell you bring. I’d recommend something to numb a burn, you won’t need stitches. -

(He speaks with utter certainty, the static clouding his words, but not so much he can’t be heard)

(He'a glad to end this conversation. It's clear he has a lot to get ready for. He speaks coldly.)

--See you there, cola. Watch your 6.--

(With that, he cuts the line, his mind clouded with one thought. If he's really so hurtful, then he's going to cause as much hurt as he can.)

#cherri-cola-soda #rigor m0rtis #kjrp #((this isn't gonna go well!!#<333

(A voice that could have been familiar comes through the radio. If the words had been soft, about lifelong pain and longing for affection rather than cold and sharp, maybe Rigor would know. But the words are sharp, cold, angry)

- why did you hurt Scratch. -

@cherri-cola-soda

(As if Rig wasn't thinking about enough, now he has to deal with someone asking about his biggest regret to date. Someone who sounds vaguely familiar, but not someone he knows just by voice. He knows a lot of people like that, through his work. He huffs, responding in a blank tone.)

--He shoved me. And said some shit I couldn't just sit there and take. It was.. It was impulsive. I didn't mean to hit him that hard.--

(There's a tinge of guilt in his tone, but not nearly enough. Maybe he's just trying to act tough.)

cherri-cola-soda

- ……………. why did you hurt my boyfriend. -

(The voice is, if possible, even colder. There’s really only one person he could be talking about)

(This time, he doesn't hesitate to respond, his tone much more firm.)

--Because he hurt scratch. You should ask him what he did. Or does he not fucking remember?--

(He sounds angrier than before, his words sharp.)

--He hit Scratch first, so I hit him back. I don't care what happened before the fight. He got what he gave.--

cherri-cola-soda

- he’s fucking concussed with broken ribs. He barely remembers how many times he’s hit his head. Why don’t you ask Scratch what happened? He probably remembers why the two of them were fighting. -

(Cherri Cola is mad. And not the shouting mad, the crying mad. He’s the cold fury of a winter wind storm, blowing dust)

(Rig scoffs.)

--Y'know, I did, actually. And he said your bitch of a boyfriend wanted to fight, came up with the idea in the first place. Wanted to test out how much Scratch could hurt, now that he actually can. Riled him up, hit him first. How fucked up is that?--

(He chuckles bitterly, just as angry but not showing it as much through his tone. Instead, he's taunting and blunt.)

--If you kept yourself alive in the first place, maybe you could'a kept him from going to the track. This is all your fault, isn't it, Cola?--

cherri-cola-soda

(He sucks in a breath, tense)

- you- you don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it. You don’t get it at all! No fucking wonder Scratch died! You don’t get it! -

(This clearly hurt. He doesn’t even tell Rig off for calling them Cola, mind caught on the fact that he doesn’t understand, and he isn’t trying)

--No, you don't fucking get it!--

(He raises his voice, almost cracking his radio from how hard he's gripping it.)

--Imagine seeing your best friend's corpse, skull blown across the back wall of your own fucking house, and when he comes back, he doesn't even fucking tell you he's alive! You don't know how much I've done for that kid, how much I've sacrificed for that kid! Don't you fucking tell me what I don't know. You don't know shit!--

cherri-cola-soda

(He has to remind himself that Rig’s on the other side of the radio, that they’re not in danger)

- did you ever stop and ask why? Why do people kill themselves? Do you think I want this!? That I want to cry myself to sleep half the time, that I want to go hungry, that I want to fight for every goddamn shred of happiness? That I want to put everyone I love through this? What would it take for you to shoot yourself? Can you understand? Can you even try? Did you fucking ask? Did you try to understand why Scratch was hurting so bad he killed himself!? -

(The radio grows warmer in Rig’s hand, zapping him as Cherri forces air back into their lungs. Because how dare this man? Because that’d been the first time Cherri’d seen Scratch look happy like that, seem so clear and genuine. And this man slapped him)

(Rig drops the radio with a surprised yelp, flicking the burning sensation from his palm before looking at his hand briefly with a huff. How the fuck? Maybe it was just a coincidence. But it only makes him angrier. He picks up the radio again, sitting against the wall as he talks into it, not quite yelling anymore but still very angry.)

--You know, seeing him dusted almost made me want to. But his best friend was there with me. She was horrified. I couldn't do something like that in front of her. That's a decency neither you or Scratch seem to have.--

(He takes a breath, sounding more numb as the words continue to flow.)

--I don't know why zey did what zey did. He knows I'd help zem, but he didn't tell me anything. I noticed, I checked on him, I bandaged him up when he came home from getting back into fighting again. Him dusting himself? That hurt me. I tried, and he did it anyway. Can't you understand how angry that'd make someone? How angry I am that, despite everything, it wasn't enough to keep him alive. So, yeah, maybe I don't understand. But I'm not a monster.--

cherri-cola-soda

(Cherri sounds angry too, not really registering the accidental shock)

- then why would you want to cause any more hurt? It’s shitty and it hurts, why would you hit him!? Because, believe it or not, that hurts! Can’t you see that? See that all of this hurts? I- … if he’s your best friend, help -

--I.. He..--

(Rig stumbles over his words, trying to find something to say, but he eventually groans angrily and barks into the mic.)

--I don't need to explain myself to you. And, frankly, I've got better things to do than piss around trying to justify what I did to you. So, you can either give me a time and place or you can keep wasting my time, Cherri.--

(A voice that could have been familiar comes through the radio. If the words had been soft, about lifelong pain and longing for affection rather than cold and sharp, maybe Rigor would know. But the words are sharp, cold, angry)

- why did you hurt Scratch. -

@cherri-cola-soda

(As if Rig wasn't thinking about enough, now he has to deal with someone asking about his biggest regret to date. Someone who sounds vaguely familiar, but not someone he knows just by voice. He knows a lot of people like that, through his work. He huffs, responding in a blank tone.)

--He shoved me. And said some shit I couldn't just sit there and take. It was.. It was impulsive. I didn't mean to hit him that hard.--

(There's a tinge of guilt in his tone, but not nearly enough. Maybe he's just trying to act tough.)

cherri-cola-soda

- ……………. why did you hurt my boyfriend. -

(The voice is, if possible, even colder. There’s really only one person he could be talking about)

(This time, he doesn't hesitate to respond, his tone much more firm.)

--Because he hurt scratch. You should ask him what he did. Or does he not fucking remember?--

(He sounds angrier than before, his words sharp.)

--He hit Scratch first, so I hit him back. I don't care what happened before the fight. He got what he gave.--

cherri-cola-soda

- he’s fucking concussed with broken ribs. He barely remembers how many times he’s hit his head. Why don’t you ask Scratch what happened? He probably remembers why the two of them were fighting. -

(Cherri Cola is mad. And not the shouting mad, the crying mad. He’s the cold fury of a winter wind storm, blowing dust)

(Rig scoffs.)

--Y'know, I did, actually. And he said your bitch of a boyfriend wanted to fight, came up with the idea in the first place. Wanted to test out how much Scratch could hurt, now that he actually can. Riled him up, hit him first. How fucked up is that?--

(He chuckles bitterly, just as angry but not showing it as much through his tone. Instead, he's taunting and blunt.)

--If you kept yourself alive in the first place, maybe you could'a kept him from going to the track. This is all your fault, isn't it, Cola?--

cherri-cola-soda

(He sucks in a breath, tense)

- you- you don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it. You don’t get it at all! No fucking wonder Scratch died! You don’t get it! -

(This clearly hurt. He doesn’t even tell Rig off for calling them Cola, mind caught on the fact that he doesn’t understand, and he isn’t trying)

--No, you don't fucking get it!--

(He raises his voice, almost cracking his radio from how hard he's gripping it.)

--Imagine seeing your best friend's corpse, skull blown across the back wall of your own fucking house, and when he comes back, he doesn't even fucking tell you he's alive! You don't know how much I've done for that kid, how much I've sacrificed for that kid! Don't you fucking tell me what I don't know. You don't know shit!--

cherri-cola-soda

(He has to remind himself that Rig’s on the other side of the radio, that they’re not in danger)

- did you ever stop and ask why? Why do people kill themselves? Do you think I want this!? That I want to cry myself to sleep half the time, that I want to go hungry, that I want to fight for every goddamn shred of happiness? That I want to put everyone I love through this? What would it take for you to shoot yourself? Can you understand? Can you even try? Did you fucking ask? Did you try to understand why Scratch was hurting so bad he killed himself!? -

(The radio grows warmer in Rig’s hand, zapping him as Cherri forces air back into their lungs. Because how dare this man? Because that’d been the first time Cherri’d seen Scratch look happy like that, seem so clear and genuine. And this man slapped him)

(Rig drops the radio with a surprised yelp, flicking the burning sensation from his palm before looking at his hand briefly with a huff. How the fuck? Maybe it was just a coincidence. But it only makes him angrier. He picks up the radio again, sitting against the wall as he talks into it, not quite yelling anymore but still very angry.)

--You know, seeing him dusted almost made me want to. But his best friend was there with me. She was horrified. I couldn't do something like that in front of her. That's a decency neither you or Scratch seem to have.--

(He takes a breath, sounding more numb as the words continue to flow.)

--I don't know why zey did what zey did. He knows I'd help zem, but he didn't tell me anything. I noticed, I checked on him, I bandaged him up when he came home from getting back into fighting again. Him dusting himself? That hurt me. I tried, and he did it anyway. Can't you understand how angry that'd make someone? How angry I am that, despite everything, it wasn't enough to keep him alive. So, yeah, maybe I don't understand. But I'm not a monster.--

#tw sui ideation #<- not exactly but shh #← fair

(A voice that could have been familiar comes through the radio. If the words had been soft, about lifelong pain and longing for affection rather than cold and sharp, maybe Rigor would know. But the words are sharp, cold, angry)

- why did you hurt Scratch. -

@cherri-cola-soda

(As if Rig wasn't thinking about enough, now he has to deal with someone asking about his biggest regret to date. Someone who sounds vaguely familiar, but not someone he knows just by voice. He knows a lot of people like that, through his work. He huffs, responding in a blank tone.)

--He shoved me. And said some shit I couldn't just sit there and take. It was.. It was impulsive. I didn't mean to hit him that hard.--

(There's a tinge of guilt in his tone, but not nearly enough. Maybe he's just trying to act tough.)

cherri-cola-soda

- ……………. why did you hurt my boyfriend. -

(The voice is, if possible, even colder. There’s really only one person he could be talking about)

(This time, he doesn't hesitate to respond, his tone much more firm.)

--Because he hurt scratch. You should ask him what he did. Or does he not fucking remember?--

(He sounds angrier than before, his words sharp.)

--He hit Scratch first, so I hit him back. I don't care what happened before the fight. He got what he gave.--

cherri-cola-soda

- he’s fucking concussed with broken ribs. He barely remembers how many times he’s hit his head. Why don’t you ask Scratch what happened? He probably remembers why the two of them were fighting. -

(Cherri Cola is mad. And not the shouting mad, the crying mad. He’s the cold fury of a winter wind storm, blowing dust)

(Rig scoffs.)

--Y'know, I did, actually. And he said your bitch of a boyfriend wanted to fight, came up with the idea in the first place. Wanted to test out how much Scratch could hurt, now that he actually can. Riled him up, hit him first. How fucked up is that?--

(He chuckles bitterly, just as angry but not showing it as much through his tone. Instead, he's taunting and blunt.)

--If you kept yourself alive in the first place, maybe you could'a kept him from going to the track. This is all your fault, isn't it, Cola?--

cherri-cola-soda

(He sucks in a breath, tense)

- you- you don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it. You don’t get it at all! No fucking wonder Scratch died! You don’t get it! -

(This clearly hurt. He doesn’t even tell Rig off for calling them Cola, mind caught on the fact that he doesn’t understand, and he isn’t trying)

--No, you don't fucking get it!--

(He raises his voice, almost cracking his radio from how hard he's gripping it.)

--Imagine seeing your best friend's corpse, skull blown across the back wall of your own fucking house, and when he comes back, he doesn't even fucking tell you he's alive! You don't know how much I've done for that kid, how much I've sacrificed for that kid! Don't you fucking tell me what I don't know. You don't know shit!--

#rigor--m0rtis #cherri cola soda

(A voice that could have been familiar comes through the radio. If the words had been soft, about lifelong pain and longing for affection rather than cold and sharp, maybe Rigor would know. But the words are sharp, cold, angry)

- why did you hurt Scratch. -

@cherri-cola-soda

(As if Rig wasn't thinking about enough, now he has to deal with someone asking about his biggest regret to date. Someone who sounds vaguely familiar, but not someone he knows just by voice. He knows a lot of people like that, through his work. He huffs, responding in a blank tone.)

--He shoved me. And said some shit I couldn't just sit there and take. It was.. It was impulsive. I didn't mean to hit him that hard.--

(There's a tinge of guilt in his tone, but not nearly enough. Maybe he's just trying to act tough.)

cherri-cola-soda

- ……………. why did you hurt my boyfriend. -

(The voice is, if possible, even colder. There’s really only one person he could be talking about)

(This time, he doesn't hesitate to respond, his tone much more firm.)

--Because he hurt scratch. You should ask him what he did. Or does he not fucking remember?--

(He sounds angrier than before, his words sharp.)

--He hit Scratch first, so I hit him back. I don't care what happened before the fight. He got what he gave.--

cherri-cola-soda

- he’s fucking concussed with broken ribs. He barely remembers how many times he’s hit his head. Why don’t you ask Scratch what happened? He probably remembers why the two of them were fighting. -

(Cherri Cola is mad. And not the shouting mad, the crying mad. He’s the cold fury of a winter wind storm, blowing dust)

(Rig scoffs.)

--Y'know, I did, actually. And he said your bitch of a boyfriend wanted to fight, came up with the idea in the first place. Wanted to test out how much Scratch could hurt, now that he actually can. Riled him up, hit him first. How fucked up is that?--

(He chuckles bitterly, just as angry but not showing it as much through his tone. Instead, he's taunting and blunt.)

--If you kept yourself alive in the first place, maybe you could'a kept him from going to the track. This is all your fault, isn't it, Cola?--

#rigor--m0rtis #cherri cola soda

(A voice that could have been familiar comes through the radio. If the words had been soft, about lifelong pain and longing for affection rather than cold and sharp, maybe Rigor would know. But the words are sharp, cold, angry)

- why did you hurt Scratch. -

@cherri-cola-soda

(As if Rig wasn't thinking about enough, now he has to deal with someone asking about his biggest regret to date. Someone who sounds vaguely familiar, but not someone he knows just by voice. He knows a lot of people like that, through his work. He huffs, responding in a blank tone.)

--He shoved me. And said some shit I couldn't just sit there and take. It was.. It was impulsive. I didn't mean to hit him that hard.--

(There's a tinge of guilt in his tone, but not nearly enough. Maybe he's just trying to act tough.)

cherri-cola-soda

- ……………. why did you hurt my boyfriend. -

(The voice is, if possible, even colder. There’s really only one person he could be talking about)

(This time, he doesn't hesitate to respond, his tone much more firm.)

--Because he hurt scratch. You should ask him what he did. Or does he not fucking remember?--

(He sounds angrier than before, his words sharp.)

--He hit Scratch first, so I hit him back. I don't care what happened before the fight. He got what he gave.--

#rigor--m0rtis #cherri cola soda

(A voice that could have been familiar comes through the radio. If the words had been soft, about lifelong pain and longing for affection rather than cold and sharp, maybe Rigor would know. But the words are sharp, cold, angry)

- why did you hurt Scratch. -

@cherri-cola-soda

(As if Rig wasn't thinking about enough, now he has to deal with someone asking about his biggest regret to date. Someone who sounds vaguely familiar, but not someone he knows just by voice. He knows a lot of people like that, through his work. He huffs, responding in a blank tone.)

--He shoved me. And said some shit I couldn't just sit there and take. It was.. It was impulsive. I didn't mean to hit him that hard.--

(There's a tinge of guilt in his tone, but not nearly enough. Maybe he's just trying to act tough.)

#rigor--m0rtis #cherri cola soda

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

(Kobra stares wide-eyed at the door before deciding he apparently wants to visit Zone 7 and opens the door, cowering away from Rig and backing away from the now open door)

I'm sorry I swear!

(He doesn't even look at Kobra, eyes immediately drawn to Scratch curled up on the couch. As he steps in, he notes the blood trail on the floor and the bandages messily wrapped around Scratch's arms. His expression softens and he walks up next to the couch, kneeling down and checking Scratch's pulse carefully. He's quiet, breathing a little quicker than usual. Eventually, he glances up at Kobra, noticing how absolutely scorched he looks already. Specifically, he notices the marks on his neck.)

... Did he do that?

(Rig asks, his voice tight but a little calmer as he gestures loosely to the marks.)

(He nods, not taking his eyes off of Rig)

...... yeah...

(He stays a distance away, desperately not wanting to be in any more pain)

(Rig's eyes linger on Kobra for a moment or two before he looks back down at Scratch, picking up his folded hoodie from off the floor near the couch and carefully laying it over him.)

...

Why did you fight him? Why did-why did you hurt him?

....... I don't remember...

...

I'm sorry

(He stares at the floor, no longer watching Rig as closely)

(He shakes his head, standing and walking up to Kobra with a glare.)

No. No, that's not an answer. Why would you think it's okay to fight him? After he just came back from being dead?

(He cowers slightly, taking a step back)

I- I don't know! It wasn't okay and I shouldn't have done it.. I don't remember why I did it!

(He doesn't let Kobra cower, stepping right forward with him and glaring daggers down at him.)

You're telling me those are as fresh as they are and you don't remember?

(He points at the marks on Kobra's neck, only getting angrier.)

Bullshit.

I just- I don't get it. You're older than him. You should know better than to start a fight with a kid. You should know better than to hit first!

(He's almost yelling now, gesturing aggressively as he talks.)

(He wrings his hands together. Or at least attempts to with one wrist still splinted)

I swear I don't remember!

(He flinches when Rig points, preparing for the worst)

I shouldn't have done it I know!

(He takes a short step back, fists clenched at his sides. After a moment of pause, he asks a question, crossing his arms.)

Where did you hit him first? Do you remember that?

(He has to think for a moment, but eventually he mumbles)

........ stomach..

(Rig doesn't hesitate, rearing back a fist and punching Kobra square in the stomach with a good amount of force. He doesn't punch as hard as he could, but it's still fucking hard.)

(He doubles over, making a wheezing sound when he can barely get air in for a moment. He whines, staying somewhat upright as he clutches his stomach)

Fuck

(Rig takes a couple steps back, almost sick from the amount of anger clouding his head. He glances down at Scratch, a little tinge of guilt coming over him. Zey'd be disappointed. He doesn't care enough to regret it right now, looking back up at Kobra and adjusting the sleeves of his jacket before heading for the door.)

Do me a favor, radio me when he wakes up. You fight him again and you'll wish I killed you here and now.

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

(Kobra stares wide-eyed at the door before deciding he apparently wants to visit Zone 7 and opens the door, cowering away from Rig and backing away from the now open door)

I'm sorry I swear!

(He doesn't even look at Kobra, eyes immediately drawn to Scratch curled up on the couch. As he steps in, he notes the blood trail on the floor and the bandages messily wrapped around Scratch's arms. His expression softens and he walks up next to the couch, kneeling down and checking Scratch's pulse carefully. He's quiet, breathing a little quicker than usual. Eventually, he glances up at Kobra, noticing how absolutely scorched he looks already. Specifically, he notices the marks on his neck.)

... Did he do that?

(Rig asks, his voice tight but a little calmer as he gestures loosely to the marks.)

(He nods, not taking his eyes off of Rig)

...... yeah...

(He stays a distance away, desperately not wanting to be in any more pain)

(Rig's eyes linger on Kobra for a moment or two before he looks back down at Scratch, picking up his folded hoodie from off the floor near the couch and carefully laying it over him.)

...

Why did you fight him? Why did-why did you hurt him?

....... I don't remember...

...

I'm sorry

(He stares at the floor, no longer watching Rig as closely)

(He shakes his head, standing and walking up to Kobra with a glare.)

No. No, that's not an answer. Why would you think it's okay to fight him? After he just came back from being dead?

(He cowers slightly, taking a step back)

I- I don't know! It wasn't okay and I shouldn't have done it.. I don't remember why I did it!

(He doesn't let Kobra cower, stepping right forward with him and glaring daggers down at him.)

You're telling me those are as fresh as they are and you don't remember?

(He points at the marks on Kobra's neck, only getting angrier.)

Bullshit.

I just- I don't get it. You're older than him. You should know better than to start a fight with a kid. You should know better than to hit first!

(He's almost yelling now, gesturing aggressively as he talks.)

(He wrings his hands together. Or at least attempts to with one wrist still splinted)

I swear I don't remember!

(He flinches when Rig points, preparing for the worst)

I shouldn't have done it I know!

(He takes a short step back, fists clenched at his sides. After a moment of pause, he asks a question, crossing his arms.)

Where did you hit him first? Do you remember that?

(He has to think for a moment, but eventually he mumbles)

........ stomach..

(Rig doesn't hesitate, rearing back a fist and punching Kobra square in the stomach with a good amount of force. He doesn't punch as hard as he could, but it's still fucking hard.)

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

(Kobra stares wide-eyed at the door before deciding he apparently wants to visit Zone 7 and opens the door, cowering away from Rig and backing away from the now open door)

I'm sorry I swear!

(He doesn't even look at Kobra, eyes immediately drawn to Scratch curled up on the couch. As he steps in, he notes the blood trail on the floor and the bandages messily wrapped around Scratch's arms. His expression softens and he walks up next to the couch, kneeling down and checking Scratch's pulse carefully. He's quiet, breathing a little quicker than usual. Eventually, he glances up at Kobra, noticing how absolutely scorched he looks already. Specifically, he notices the marks on his neck.)

... Did he do that?

(Rig asks, his voice tight but a little calmer as he gestures loosely to the marks.)

(He nods, not taking his eyes off of Rig)

...... yeah...

(He stays a distance away, desperately not wanting to be in any more pain)

(Rig's eyes linger on Kobra for a moment or two before he looks back down at Scratch, picking up his folded hoodie from off the floor near the couch and carefully laying it over him.)

...

Why did you fight him? Why did-why did you hurt him?

....... I don't remember...

...

I'm sorry

(He stares at the floor, no longer watching Rig as closely)

(He shakes his head, standing and walking up to Kobra with a glare.)

No. No, that's not an answer. Why would you think it's okay to fight him? After he just came back from being dead?

(He cowers slightly, taking a step back)

I- I don't know! It wasn't okay and I shouldn't have done it.. I don't remember why I did it!

(He doesn't let Kobra cower, stepping right forward with him and glaring daggers down at him.)

You're telling me those are as fresh as they are and you don't remember?

(He points at the marks on Kobra's neck, only getting angrier.)

Bullshit.

I just- I don't get it. You're older than him. You should know better than to start a fight with a kid. You should know better than to hit first!

(He's almost yelling now, gesturing aggressively as he talks.)

(He wrings his hands together. Or at least attempts to with one wrist still splinted)

I swear I don't remember!

(He flinches when Rig points, preparing for the worst)

I shouldn't have done it I know!

(He takes a short step back, fists clenched at his sides. After a moment of pause, he asks a question, crossing his arms.)

Where did you hit him first? Do you remember that?

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

(Kobra stares wide-eyed at the door before deciding he apparently wants to visit Zone 7 and opens the door, cowering away from Rig and backing away from the now open door)

I'm sorry I swear!

(He doesn't even look at Kobra, eyes immediately drawn to Scratch curled up on the couch. As he steps in, he notes the blood trail on the floor and the bandages messily wrapped around Scratch's arms. His expression softens and he walks up next to the couch, kneeling down and checking Scratch's pulse carefully. He's quiet, breathing a little quicker than usual. Eventually, he glances up at Kobra, noticing how absolutely scorched he looks already. Specifically, he notices the marks on his neck.)

... Did he do that?

(Rig asks, his voice tight but a little calmer as he gestures loosely to the marks.)

(He nods, not taking his eyes off of Rig)

...... yeah...

(He stays a distance away, desperately not wanting to be in any more pain)

(Rig's eyes linger on Kobra for a moment or two before he looks back down at Scratch, picking up his folded hoodie from off the floor near the couch and carefully laying it over him.)

...

Why did you fight him? Why did-why did you hurt him?

....... I don't remember...

...

I'm sorry

(He stares at the floor, no longer watching Rig as closely)

(He shakes his head, standing and walking up to Kobra with a glare.)

No. No, that's not an answer. Why would you think it's okay to fight him? After he just came back from being dead?

(He cowers slightly, taking a step back)

I- I don't know! It wasn't okay and I shouldn't have done it.. I don't remember why I did it!

(He doesn't let Kobra cower, stepping right forward with him and glaring daggers down at him.)

You're telling me those are as fresh as they are and you don't remember?

(He points at the marks on Kobra's neck, only getting angrier.)

Bullshit.

I just- I don't get it. You're older than him. You should know better than to start a fight with a kid. You should know better than to hit first!

(He's almost yelling now, gesturing aggressively as he talks.)

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d #((and now we see when Cherri is gonna beat his ass!!!

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

(Kobra stares wide-eyed at the door before deciding he apparently wants to visit Zone 7 and opens the door, cowering away from Rig and backing away from the now open door)

I'm sorry I swear!

(He doesn't even look at Kobra, eyes immediately drawn to Scratch curled up on the couch. As he steps in, he notes the blood trail on the floor and the bandages messily wrapped around Scratch's arms. His expression softens and he walks up next to the couch, kneeling down and checking Scratch's pulse carefully. He's quiet, breathing a little quicker than usual. Eventually, he glances up at Kobra, noticing how absolutely scorched he looks already. Specifically, he notices the marks on his neck.)

... Did he do that?

(Rig asks, his voice tight but a little calmer as he gestures loosely to the marks.)

(He nods, not taking his eyes off of Rig)

...... yeah...

(He stays a distance away, desperately not wanting to be in any more pain)

(Rig's eyes linger on Kobra for a moment or two before he looks back down at Scratch, picking up his folded hoodie from off the floor near the couch and carefully laying it over him.)

...

Why did you fight him? Why did-why did you hurt him?

....... I don't remember...

...

I'm sorry

(He stares at the floor, no longer watching Rig as closely)

(He shakes his head, standing and walking up to Kobra with a glare.)

No. No, that's not an answer. Why would you think it's okay to fight him? After he just came back from being dead?

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

(Kobra stares wide-eyed at the door before deciding he apparently wants to visit Zone 7 and opens the door, cowering away from Rig and backing away from the now open door)

I'm sorry I swear!

(He doesn't even look at Kobra, eyes immediately drawn to Scratch curled up on the couch. As he steps in, he notes the blood trail on the floor and the bandages messily wrapped around Scratch's arms. His expression softens and he walks up next to the couch, kneeling down and checking Scratch's pulse carefully. He's quiet, breathing a little quicker than usual. Eventually, he glances up at Kobra, noticing how absolutely scorched he looks already. Specifically, he notices the marks on his neck.)

... Did he do that?

(Rig asks, his voice tight but a little calmer as he gestures loosely to the marks.)

(He nods, not taking his eyes off of Rig)

...... yeah...

(He stays a distance away, desperately not wanting to be in any more pain)

(Rig's eyes linger on Kobra for a moment or two before he looks back down at Scratch, picking up his folded hoodie from off the floor near the couch and carefully laying it over him.)

...

Why did you fight him? Why did-why did you hurt him?

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

(Kobra stares wide-eyed at the door before deciding he apparently wants to visit Zone 7 and opens the door, cowering away from Rig and backing away from the now open door)

I'm sorry I swear!

(He doesn't even look at Kobra, eyes immediately drawn to Scratch curled up on the couch. As he steps in, he notes the blood trail on the floor and the bandages messily wrapped around Scratch's arms. His expression softens and he walks up next to the couch, kneeling down and checking Scratch's pulse carefully. He's quiet, breathing a little quicker than usual. Eventually, he glances up at Kobra, noticing how absolutely scorched he looks already. Specifically, he notices the marks on his neck.)

... Did he do that?

(Rig asks, his voice tight but a little calmer as he gestures loosely to the marks.)

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

-........... yes...-

(He can't lie to Rig, it'll only make things worse. He's actually trembling now, terrified to the point of almost making himself sick)

-....... 'm sorry..!-

(Rig can see the shack over the dunes, and he speeds up a bit, staring forward at the road so he has something to focus on.)

--Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Kobra.--

(He almost sounds like his voice is gonna break, but with that, he cuts the line and shuts off his radio, veins coarsing with adrenaline and head swirling with nothing but worry and ache from his crying earlier.

It only takes a minute for him to pull up at the side of the shack, parking the car and storming to the door before pounding on it, sharp and loud.)

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

(Kobra goes through frequencies, trying to find Rig's. After a few minutes of trying hard to remember he finally gets it, voice bit quiet)

-.. Hello? Rig?..-

(Guilt laces his words. Guilt and shame)

@k0bra-k1d

(He picks up the radio quickly, barely having started the process of mourning. He'd been sitting on the steps for a while, just watching the sand tumble with the breeze, trying to figure out what he'll do next. If there'll even be a next. He speaks in a slightly croaky monotone, absolutely numb.)

--Hello. Who's this?--

-... Kobra. Um. Fuck.. I'm so sorry I kind of fought Scratch and I think I hurt him a little and I feel really bad I just wanted you to know he's at the shack and he's alive-

(He takes a breath before continuing his ramble. This is probably the most he's spoken at one time)

-.. He's alive but we kind of fought because it was my idea and fuck it was really stupid I just wanted to say sorry to you too and let you know he's here.-

(Rig feels like he just got the air vacuumed out of his lungs. Like he just got punched in the chest hard enough to fracture ribs. He stands up too quickly, almost stumbling over from vertigo before snagging his keys off the hook in the door and practically sprinting for his car.)

--What did you do to him, Kobra? Because if you hurt him enough for him to feel it, you're gonna fucking regret telling me, do you hear me?--

(Out of nowhere, he sounds angry. The car engine growls to life and he sets his radio on the dash as he starts speeding toward the shack, feeling everything all at once.)

--Of course he got into another fucking fight, Witchfucker..--

(He continues to mumble, most of it not coming through the radio.)

(He feels genuine terror, scared of what's going to happen when Rig gets here. He trudges to where Scratch is sleeping against the couch, keeping a distance away)

-... um... I just... I..-

(He can't get himself to say that he punched Scratch and then, like zer name, scratched zem up bad enough for it to bleed. He eyes the stains on the floor where Scratch fell earlier, heart racing as he prepares to get more injured the.. 3rd? Time this week)

(He sighs heavily as Kobra stumbles through his words, eventually getting irritated and worried enough to grab the radio and raise his voice a bit.)

--Listen to me. If you don't spit it out over this call right now, then I'm going to make you tell me when I get there. He can't hurt. If you found some sick way to make him hurt, Kobra, then it is not going to be good to tell me when I get there.

Am I understood?--

(He sounds scary. This isn't anything like his normal tone or cadence.)

--What happened?--

(He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he tries to force the words out)

-... I- .. I punched him... I hit first... and I scratched him up a bit.... um... there was some blood..-

(He begins panicking, pacing around in unsteady circles)

(Rig listens carefully, keeping the radio close to his face, but he doesn't respond. He sets down the radio, holding a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he tries not to get any more angry and do something he'll regret. Eventually, he asks a question, back to his normal volume but still absolutely seething.)

--Did it actually hurt him? Was he.. Was he in pain?--

(His voice becomes tighter as he speaks, and it's apparent that he's more worried than anything.)

#rigor--m0rtis #k0bra-k1d

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