Tag: alone-with-company

alone-with-company:

A…MANICURE?

The puzzlement of the Frenchman had now overtaken whatever he had been feeling before as he stared very VERY hard at the two…

Things? In front of him.

This was it. This is how it was going to be from now on? He was crazy, he had to be because this made no sense whatsoever as he hesitantly holstered the gun back to his side.

“What the hell do you mean? What is a ‘toon’?”

Something that his mind made up without him being able to comprehend? That made no sense – but then again, did it have to if he was now crazy?

“That’s it, easy now…”

The Repairman slowly approached, pulling a nail file out of his hammerspace.

“What are you doing?!”  Marie hissed frantically.

“…Gotta keep going with this,” he whispered back. “I don’t want him drawing that gun back on us…”

He turned back to the…human?… and gave a false smile.

“Well, Toons…are…well, it’s short for carTOON characters. Yeah…”

The Wall seemed fine, thankfully…

“Look, just stick your hand out and we can get started…”

Hopefully, they could just file his nails a little bit, put them in water, and sneak away.

alone-with-company:

{ @askthefwrp } {continued//}

Maybe it was the upset, or the watery vision in his eyes, but Avignon faltered when the strange beings before him began to move.

And talk.

A sharp inhale, and the gun was lowered in order for him to rub building tears from blurring his vision further in order to get a clear picture of what was in front of him. And looking again revealed questions, and less answers.

Slowly blinking, a broken breath and he took a step forward to their step back.

“What….”

“Are you…?”

The two relaxed somewhat when the person lowered the gun. And then he stepped forward.

The two inched backwards again, still not trusting him.

“W-well…I’m the Fourth Wall Repairman,” the inkblot said, “and this is Marie…”

“Ch-charmed,” the paint spatter managed.

“We’re just Toons passing through.”

“R-right, passing through. Just please put that gun awa–”

“What my sister is trying to say is, um…” The Repairman looked up, thinking for a moment. “…that, uh…you should put that gun away so we can…give you a manicure?”

Marie’s glare at him said it all.

“Look,” the Repairman whispered, “If you have a better idea…”

alone-with-company:

“I need to kill something.”

Not his usual way of handling emotions the Doll held the gun UNSTEADILY by his side, huffing out an equally unsteady breath. It was irrational thinking in hindsight as unwanted emotions swelled slowly inside the man who couldn’t decide with to holster the gun or not.

An ache in his chest, and the weakening ability to breathe, Avignon’s eyes remained trained forward without seeing what was in front of them. The desire to kill so outright wasn’t common for the Doll, but he didn’t know how else to process the inner turmoil in his MIND, his heart.

And it ached so dull.

An ebbing flow that was leeching out through cracks metaphorically appearing all over his body.

When they heard someone say that, both blots immediately fell silent, completely forgetting whatever they were talking about. They looked to their left to see a fairly tall man(?) holding a gun uncertainly, and his breath was ragged.

Both inkblot and paint spatter reached for the sky. The Repairman moved in front of his little sister instinctively, but she tried to move back in front of him. Silently, they settled on being next to each other.

Not that either one of them would die from a bullet, but it would still hurt.

“…L-look,” the Repairman said, “I don’t kn-know what’s wrong, but…we don’t wand any trouble…”

As one, both he and Marie slowly moved backwards.