“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.
Siblings-a-Fixin' 