nill is standing with a gun raised, arms raised - he's feeling a sense of pride and righteous fuck you motherfucker that's what you get. the man kicking the living shit out of him falls back with a loud thud. something wet and heavy spatters across his prone form on the floor; someone is gasping, wheezing, reaching wetly for air. it's a sound that tetora's familiar with.
the sound of a man shot in the lungs, with blood seeping in to choke him. red bubbles spill out of the man's mouth even as he tries to rise back to feet, shambling like a poor television show zombie. up, up, up he tries to make it, tries to reach for him, for her—
it doesn't work. he's choking. this dream is choking too; the ceiling warping, the couches melting, the whole tableau taking on an impression of a dali painting. tetora coughs, spits red on the carpet, and pushes up on unsteady arms to call out to the girl. ]
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nill is standing with a gun raised, arms raised - he's feeling a sense of pride and righteous fuck you motherfucker that's what you get. the man kicking the living shit out of him falls back with a loud thud. something wet and heavy spatters across his prone form on the floor; someone is gasping, wheezing, reaching wetly for air. it's a sound that tetora's familiar with.
the sound of a man shot in the lungs, with blood seeping in to choke him. red bubbles spill out of the man's mouth even as he tries to rise back to feet, shambling like a poor television show zombie. up, up, up he tries to make it, tries to reach for him, for her—
it doesn't work. he's choking. this dream is choking too; the ceiling warping, the couches melting, the whole tableau taking on an impression of a dali painting. tetora coughs, spits red on the carpet, and pushes up on unsteady arms to call out to the girl. ]
Nice aim. [ Wait, no. ] Are you okay?