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❝ you think we'll ever get home ? ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ THE SKULL - CRACKING GAME OF ‘ pin the blame tail on the one who booked us the M.I.A without a trace tickets to a life of interdimensional marooners & . got us warp wrecked & . fucking fucked over ‘ THAT ONCE TOOK PLACE HERE BETWEEN MOEBIUS’ TWO HARDEST OF HARDHEADS THAT WAS PUT ON A head - bashing ceasefire ON THIS VERY SAME BEACH ; A PACT THAT WAS MICKEY-MOUSED AS HELL & . SEALED WITH A SLAPDASHED SPIT SHAKE STILL RANG IN SCOURGE’S EARS… almost flattened them in GUILT. the echo of its meandering death knell that never quite dies     ( the painful, echoing screams of a hero, who was just a scared child like the rest of us, ‘ NO ONE is going to come save us, because YOU made sure of it !! ‘-- throat raw & . bleeding by the time she finally stopped  )     ⸻ YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT only became fucking cacophonous when they had somehow looped back around & . returned here of all places after nearly a year .

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽  it was grating enough to drown out the gentle waves of the shore ahead of him … ahead of them, he thinks, a little absent-mindedly as azure eyes shift to fix the other with a sidelong stare… eyes bleary with sudden inebriation after his phantom seasickness had resurfaced    (  like a fucking DETHRONED TYRANT THAT HAD BEEN LOBOTIMIZED , brain & . mind  stomped out into pathetic mush by the victory march of an entire planet, as they laugh in his face once it’s been dusted in dirt   )      … he knew he deserved to wallow in such a self-iduced affliction, & . that the one who crouched beside him in the sand, the collateral wallower, didn’t deserve any of this.

NO ONE WAS GOING TO COME SAVE THEM. BECAUSE HE MADE SURE OF IT.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ it was once a LIFE-SENTENCED EXILE PLAN for the leader of the resilience after all… 

❝ i don’t know. i⸻ really don’t… fuckin’ know, ras. ❞

[parricider]

do i be shlonkin on that doinky till you slooge

❝ if this is about THE WEIRD STUFF YOU DO WITH YOUR MOUTH, then, YEAH, i guess it's okay ! ❞

[parricider]

obnoxiously dancing behind him going fucking crazy as the eurobeat music goes insane

[parricider]

" god. no. please. "

[ WAVES. hiii ].

can't have shit on mobius .

[parricider]

snif snif snif snif sniiiif snif snif snif snif snifffff

. . .

PULLS ON HER NOSE WITH THE STRENGTH OF A MILLION SUNS!!!!!!!!!!

[parricider]

ew

[parricider]

-- PAUSED. color drains out of rascal's face as she's suspended in mid-air, realizing HOW OPEN she was. HER POSTURE. there was something in moebius that everyone knew, no matter man, moebian or machine.

IT TAKES LITTLE TO KNEEL TO THE KING.

in the car, someone makes a motion; marble goes to open the door -- FIRMLY STOPPED BY OZ at the driver's seat ( the fox gives him a confused look from the mirror. he looks back. not yet. ), and rascal doesn't hear the locks activate. instead, SHE GLARES BACK, TEETH SHARP AND WILL HEATED AT THE FIRE. blood at the back of her head dripping down her nape, bringing cold on her warm fur.

SHE'D ALMOST FEEL HER SKULL SHATTER AS HE HITS. her whole body shudders from the shock, a yell dying in her throat and becoming a grunt; SHE STANDS HER GROUND, knees bent from the pressure, BUT NEVER RELENTING. her head hurts. ONE BAD DAY ... she remembers the screams in her home.

ONE BAD DAY.

her forehead pushes against his, the white pupils in her eyes BURN as she glares, both bloods dripping down, staining CLOTHES & SKIN.

❝ ONE BAD DAY WAS YOUR GIFT TO ME, ❞ she answers back. ❝ ONE BAD DAY was all it took to CHANGE ME INTO THIS ! ❞

YOU MADE ME. NEVER FORGET IT. she painstakingly takes a step forward; her sheer force alone is enough to MAKE HIM STEP BACK, answering to her pushing.

❝ i grew up in a day, and, you know what ? I HAVE YOU TO THANK FOR THAT ! but while i evolved, you DEVOLVED instead ! forget KING or DESPOT, all you are is SOME GUY WHO MURDERED HIS FATHER !! but it WASN'T ENOUGH, WAS IT ?! it will NEVER be enough ! ❞

❝ a PALACE, an' WARM FOOD, an' RICHES an' LAND ... THAT'S NOT DOIN' ANYTHIN' FOR YOU, IS IT ?! there's NOTHIN' that's ever goin' to fuckin' SATISFY YOU. ❞

❝ WHERE'S FI, SCOURE ?! 'cuz at the very least, MY FRIENDS are here. and once this is over, i know who's gonna tend to my wounds ! ❞

❝ AN' THAT'S ENOUGH FOR ME TO FIGHT !! ❞

she punches his stomach, forcing his head down. and once they're at the same level, SHE BASHES HER HEAD AGAINST HIS -- AGAIN.

ONE TIME. she raises her head up as she takes momentum -- TWO TIMES. both her hands press down his shoulder, forcing him down.

THREE TIMES. and the shock is so grand, the dried earth under them CRACKS.

when she goes to take momentum again -- SHE SEES THE STARS. both in the sky and figuratively. her head SPINS, SPINS, SPINS, the walls around them becoming BLURRY. her feet search for the ground, body confused.

a small groan comes out of her lips.

she can taste her own blood. a last gasp as she loses her balance and drops -- caught by an arm.

in front of scourge, oz stands tall, carrying his leader under his arm.

[parricider]

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ A VINTAGE SUNSET SUNBURST ELECTRIC BASS GUITAR, “cryovaced'' in some slipshod abandoned pawn shop that had been semi-submerged in the devonian flood waters of chaos himself probably since the 70’s-early 80’s. it was a DAMN NEAR-PRISTINE ONE, too; the only cosmetic-killers docking it down from that PSA 10 grading being a few chips in its outermost coat of paint & some water damage & subsequent nasty rust corrosion in the metal of its vibrato bridge. that may jack up its return-to-pitch-accuracy a tad bit, but…  

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ it was a damn nice, haggle-less snag nethertheless for a couple’a jobless schmucks, a couple’a “WARP-RING-WRECKED-’N-SCREWED INTERDIMENSIONAL VARMINTS'' with… admittedly, not ton of splurgeable rings jingling around in their collective dust-shoveling pockets. the vibrancy of the guitar’s sunburst-painted alder red body & its many other time-serving aesthetics were DAMN WELL PRESERVED by the already closed-pore nature of the alder wood that has been drying out & hardening for decades, & by the netlike MILITARY BOMB WIRE GUTS of vines that barred it… TODDLER HEIGHT-PHOBICALLY HIGH against the wall behind what he assumed was once the pawn shop’s checkout/bartering spittin’ counter.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ yeah… shoot. RAS DEFINITELY DID NOT HAVE THE BARTERING ARSENAL TO SPITFIRE HER WAY INTO SNAGGING THIS HOT DEAL BEFORE IT WAS GONE. the childish urge to tease her was there– to indulge in some mild inconvenience-inducing terrorism against this gut-wrenched tyke, who was just told that she WASN’T TALL ENOUGH TO RIDE THE DEMONATOR & GIVE THE ROLLER COASTER A “CEASE-AND-PLEASE HAVOC FUCKIN’ SAKE GET THE ‘DON’T LET LITTLE TIMMY PAINT HIS FUCKING BRAINS ALL OVER THE TRACKS’ SAFTEY PROTOCOLS TRIPLE CHECKED OUT” ON ITS GRAND OPENING.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ the urge had definitely inundated him at that moment; the urge to incarcerate her in sore loser baby jail & houdini-swipe this one-of-a-kind vintage bass right in front of her grabby paws that were about to be diagnosed with ‘chronic phantom grabby claws’ as he dangled it just above, just shy out of her reach, but then…

HE LOOKED AT HER.

HE JUST LOOKED AT HER.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ HE WAS BLINDED STIFF BY AN INEXTINGUISHABLE FIERY MANE WITH EDGES DYED WITH A PURGATIVE HALO OF SOLAR AUREOLE. solar flares that were always hardass-ly & resiliently blinding, even when they were currently both bulwarked in a slipshod, light-snuffing time capsule with enough musk & dust coagulated together in the air in such a small space to make an asthmatic keel over with just one huff… flames that were goddamn sweltering, that never weakened nor were ever snuffed out when up against anyone's wayward tides. they were oh so goddamn potently purgative. she had managed to BURN HIM TO THE GROUND WITH THOSE FLAMES– HER RESCUE OPERATION: OPERATION PYRITE, AN EASY-PEASY-SUCCESS ( always, always oh too easily headsmashing her way through the military grade plexiglass glass windows leading into the fever mindscapes of the the most sickly far gone of men– ALWAYS SMILING, EVEN WHEN BLOOD WOULD PERCOLATE DOWN THE GASH BETWEEN HER TEMPLE…  ). she had cauterized the most deep-seated lacerations of a rotting heart kenneled within a scarred chest…  

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽  & it was in that moment, he truly deadset himself on something permanent for THE FIRST TIME ( NO, this wasn’t just some haphazardly maverick means of reluctantly scrounging for a temporary solution to living another tomorrow ) …  IN THAT MOMENT, HE JUST KNEW: HE WOULD DIE FOR HER WITHOUT HESITATION.

…

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ that almost TINNITUS-LIKE PINGING OF A DETUNED BASS is what would drag him out of that internal oath asphyxia, zonking his consciousness back into where his body now was: catching a breather on this makeshift stair island just out front of the flooded pawn shop that they had scored the bass from… that timeless ‘acoustics ingenuity’ didn’t hold up against those decades of water damage as well as he thought it would; definitely needed a a bit of refurbishing… EUGH, WHATEVER.

                  ❝       … YEE-OUCH. still given’ me th’silent treatment t’try 'n make me feel somethin’ after i dunked ya in that puddle, h u h?    ❞

I WAS FULL OF HOPE

ON THE DOWNWARD SLOPE

TRYING TO COPE WITH NO CHANCE OF BREAKING OUT

YOU WERE IN THE KNOW. YOU WERE IN THE KNOW

BUT YOU’LL NEVER LEARN THE WAY YOU LEAD ME ON

                 ❝      come’on, cliff burton. time t’pack up ‘n blow this pawn-stand. WE’RE GOING HOME.    ❞

sitting on some stairs, fiddling with her bass.

[parricider]

( sketch by @/the-hydroxian-artblog ! )

[parricider]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO EVERYONE EXCEPT SCOURGE THE HEDGEHOG

[parricider]

warmup of the trash man

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scourge how come we don't get a game

❝ WE DID. . . but then th'fuckin' GLITCH GIRL from th’fuckin’ shovel-shit-ware racin’ game, SUGAR RUSH or whatever, deuteragonist-ed her way into our game, an' JACKED UP TH'BIOS CODE in th’main chip in our arcade cabinet before our game even launched. . . an' we've been unplugged an' chokin' on abandoned storage shack dust ever since. ❞

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BITES (not affectionate. malicious)

 ❝ AHHHCK – HEY !! someone speed dial th’fuckin’ MONARCH G-TEAM an’ lead up this fuckin’ invadin' SKULL ISLAND SKULLCRAWLER with a lethal dose’a tranquilizers like th’fuckin’ pegs in a LiteZilla lite brite board !! ❞

– WAS THAT THE BITE OF ‘87 ??

❝ OY, WUT DA ZOG DID YOU JUS' DO, YA STUPID GIT !? I'LL 'AVE YOU KNOW I GRADUATID TOP A' MY CLASS IN DA ORK KOMMANDOS, 'N I'VE BEEN IN A BUNCHA SECRIT RAIDZ ON DEM FILFIE 'UMIES, 'N I HAS OVER 300 A DEIR TEEF TA PROVE IT. I'M TRAINED IN THE ART A' STEALF 'N I'M DA BEST AT DAKKA OUTTA ALL DA ORKZ. YOU AIN'T NOTHIN' TO ME BUT JUSS ANOTHER CAN T'SCRAP. I'LL WIPE YA DA ZOG OUT, A DUFF THE LIKES A' WHICH AIN'T NO WUNZ SEEN SINCE DA WARBOSS, YA LIST'NIN' ? YA THINKS YOU CAN GET AWAY WIV CHOMPIN’ ON ME IN FRONT'A DA WHOLE WAAAAH ? FINK AGAIN, SKUM. AS WE YAP OUR GOBS, I'M CALLIN' ALL MY INFILTRA'A'S ACROSS ALL A' ORKDOM 'N DEY'S 'UNTIN' YA RIGHT NOW, SO YOU BESS' PREPARE FOR DA STORM, GIT. DA STORMBOYZ'LL RID YA UH' DAT PUNY LI' L FING YOU CALL A LIFE. YOU'S AS GOOD AS DEAD, YA GROT. I'Z EVERYWHERE 'N EVERYTIME ALL AT ONCE, 'N I'Z CAN KILL YA 700 TIMES WIFOUT EVEN USIN' A SHOOTA. NOT ONLY DAT, BUT I CAN GET ALL THE STIKKBOMBS AN' DAKKA I WANT AND BLOW YOUR TINY 'EAD INTO SO MANY BITS YOU WON' EVEN 'AVE DA CHANCE TA MEET GORK AN' MORK WHEN I'M THROU WIF' YOU. IT'Z A SHAME YOU 'AD NO IDEA THE AMOUNT OF WAAAAGH YOUR SNOTTY GOB-FLAPPIN' WUZ GONNA GET YOU INTO, YOU'DA CUT YOUR TONGUE OUT INSTEAD ! BUT YOU DI'N'T, AN' YOU'S FIXIN TA PAY THE PRICE WIF MORE DEN JUS' YER STUPID TEEF. I'LL SHOOT YA SO 'ARD YOU'LL DROWN IN DAKKA. YOU'S AS GOOD AS DEAD !!!!!!!!!!! ❞

[parricider]

hi

[parricider]

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ 𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋 (@timelocker):

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ she had given him a pamphlet two days earlier, and he recalled her words as she had put it in her hand, now as he stood in a crowd.

❝ dress up, ❞ she said, playful smile on her face. music festival in town, and she was excited to take the stage for herself.

❝ not gonna be a time-out concert, but hopefully whatever bozos i end up with can play a few good notes. ❞ rascal snickers, grin showing off a few teeth. ❝ you gonna be there, right ? when i take the stage. ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the lights of the stage move, pointing center. there's confusion, there's whispering and hubbub, confusion on the elevated scene. rascal stood there, guitar in hand, as the rest of the band that had just closed their number stare at her in disbelief -- their leader literally pushed off the stage.

❝ i want you to see. ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the mic pics up, causing mobians to cover their sensitive ears; it brings silence all around. rascal's foot slams on the ground, her fingers playing the first notes of her tune.

❝ MOBIUS !! ❞ gloved fingers keep playing, the intro getting longer. ❝ you callin' THIS a concert ?! where i come from, we call this a FUNERAL !! YOU ALIVE OR WHAT ?! ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the crowd bursts in response, the leaderless bandmates share another look. the drums begin to join in, then the bass. how easily she brings groups together. ❝ life's short, so spend it HAVIN' FUN ! spend it in EXCITEMENT ! spend it DEFYING what you know, make it SHORT, make it QUICK, make it WORTH IT ! so, together -- ❞

❝ LET'S BE ALIVE !!! ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ HAVOC’S FUCK SAKE . . . NO. he sure as hell was NOT having even a lick of ‘ FUN ’. he wasn’t exactly having a chipper ol’ festive time being nauseatingly-carouseled around in some WILE E COYOTE x RUBE GOLDBERG TORTURE MACHINE COLLABORATION thrown in as a 100000x bonus points area in some LAUGHINGSTOCK PINBALL GAME, where he was the ball. nope. his minds cape was already retrograding into completely-losing-his-shit-mode; already scheming up a whole arsenal of oh-so persuasive sick-note excuses for being M.I.A from ras’ stage-heist that she has been giddily conniving for the past two days. . . a performance that he had PROMISED he’d be there for. for her. for the first time, as a friend, but . . .

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ HE WAS THIS CLOSE. THIS CLOSE TO SPIN-BARRELING THROUGH HIS BRITTLE THRESHOLD OF PATIENCE. . . some fucking boozy meathead gator dude had already unknowingly ka clinked their elbow-épée hard, brain-schismingly hard, against the hedgehog’s forehead when they had dipped down to slabber drool all over their girlfriend, & oh-ho. oh yeah, that slug definitely knocked out a pretty hefty glass CHIP out of one of the lenses of his favorite pair of shades. YAAY. . . FUCKING EN GARDE. CHEERSH.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ quills bristled the fuck up as scourge excruciatingly attempted to quash the spumous urge to grab that gator by the tail & slam them hard against the ground, & knock a chip of bone out of their horndog cranium, because. . . he. . . didn’t want to risk siphoning away any lick of attention from HER. but at the same time, he was admittedly. . . getting more & more antsy about being here ( he felt like a malignant, pustule-ly GREEN CYST jutting out like a sore quill in a leaf pile on the curbside of some cul-de-sac nestled somewhere within the seventh layer of prime paradís– or wherever the fuck– whatever. WHATEVER. HE DIDN’T BELONG HERE. )

BUT SHE DID. SHE BELONGED EVERYWHERE.

. . .

SOMEONE’S REALLY EDGIN’ OUT HER USUAL ‘ PUNCTUAL ’ SHOWIN’ UP UNINVITED. SOMEONE’S REALLY TAKIN’ HER SWEET ASS TIME FOR ONCE, HUH ?

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ when the hell was she. . .--

MOBIUS !!

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ NOW THAT’S THE CATHARTICALLY EXHILARATING ENTRANCE HE’D BEEN CAMPING OUT FOR LIKE A MIDNIGHT RELEASE. . . the stage lights almost sentiently illuminated the moebian savior; the liberator, the deus ex machina, the interdimensional defender. . .

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ JOT THIS DOWN IN YOUR COUNTERFACTUAL HISTORY BOOKS, MOBIUS. moebius isn’t  irreparably far gone, because WE HAVE HER. get schooled.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ a single gloved fist is pumped up into the air, thumb & pinky fingers sticking out to resemble devil horns as scourge’s gaze locks with rascal’s.

HE WANTED HER TO SEE THAT HE DID SHOW UP

HE WANTED HER TO SEE THAT HE WAS LOCKED & LOADED TO FEEL ALIVE

TO REALLY FEEL ALIVE. FOR THE FIRST TIME.

[parricider]

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ 𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋 (@timelocker):

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ she had given him a pamphlet two days earlier, and he recalled her words as she had put it in her hand, now as he stood in a crowd.

❝ dress up, ❞ she said, playful smile on her face. music festival in town, and she was excited to take the stage for herself.

❝ not gonna be a time-out concert, but hopefully whatever bozos i end up with can play a few good notes. ❞ rascal snickers, grin showing off a few teeth. ❝ you gonna be there, right ? when i take the stage. ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the lights of the stage move, pointing center. there's confusion, there's whispering and hubbub, confusion on the elevated scene. rascal stood there, guitar in hand, as the rest of the band that had just closed their number stare at her in disbelief -- their leader literally pushed off the stage.

❝ i want you to see. ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the mic pics up, causing mobians to cover their sensitive ears; it brings silence all around. rascal's foot slams on the ground, her fingers playing the first notes of her tune.

❝ MOBIUS !! ❞ gloved fingers keep playing, the intro getting longer. ❝ you callin' THIS a concert ?! where i come from, we call this a FUNERAL !! YOU ALIVE OR WHAT ?! ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the crowd bursts in response, the leaderless bandmates share another look. the drums begin to join in, then the bass. how easily she brings groups together. ❝ life's short, so spend it HAVIN' FUN ! spend it in EXCITEMENT ! spend it DEFYING what you know, make it SHORT, make it QUICK, make it WORTH IT ! so, together -- ❞

❝ LET'S BE ALIVE !!! ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ HAVOC’S FUCK SAKE . . . NO. he sure as hell was NOT having even a lick of ‘ FUN ’. he wasn’t exactly having a chipper ol’ festive time being nauseatingly-carouseled around in some WILE E COYOTE x RUBE GOLDBERG TORTURE MACHINE COLLABORATION thrown in as a 100000x bonus points area in some LAUGHINGSTOCK PINBALL GAME, where he was the ball. nope. his minds cape was already retrograding into completely-losing-his-shit-mode; already scheming up a whole arsenal of oh-so persuasive sick-note excuses for being M.I.A from ras’ stage-heist that she has been giddily conniving for the past two days. . . a performance that he had PROMISED he’d be there for. for her. for the first time, as a friend, but . . .

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ HE WAS THIS CLOSE. THIS CLOSE TO SPIN-BARRELING THROUGH HIS BRITTLE THRESHOLD OF PATIENCE. . . some fucking boozy meathead gator dude had already unknowingly ka clinked their elbow-épée hard, brain-schismingly hard, against the hedgehog’s forehead when they had dipped down to slabber drool all over their girlfriend, & oh-ho. oh yeah, that slug definitely knocked out a pretty hefty glass CHIP out of one of the lenses of his favorite pair of shades. YAAY. . . FUCKING EN GARDE. CHEERSH.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ quills bristled the fuck up as scourge excruciatingly attempted to quash the spumous urge to grab that gator by the tail & slam them hard against the ground, & knock a chip of bone out of their horndog cranium, because. . . he. . . didn’t want to risk siphoning away any lick of attention from HER. but at the same time, he was admittedly. . . getting more & more antsy about being here ( he felt like a malignant, pustule-ly GREEN CYST jutting out like a sore quill in a leaf pile on the curbside of some cul-de-sac nestled somewhere within the seventh layer of prime paradís– or wherever the fuck– whatever. WHATEVER. HE DIDN’T BELONG HERE. )

BUT SHE DID. SHE BELONGED EVERYWHERE.

. . .

SOMEONE’S REALLY EDGIN’ OUT HER USUAL ‘ PUNCTUAL ’ SHOWIN’ UP UNINVITED. SOMEONE’S REALLY TAKIN’ HER SWEET ASS TIME FOR ONCE, HUH ?

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ when the hell was she. . .--

MOBIUS !!

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ NOW THAT’S THE CATHARTICALLY EXHILARATING ENTRANCE HE’D BEEN CAMPING OUT FOR LIKE A MIDNIGHT RELEASE. . . the stage lights almost sentiently illuminated the moebian savior; the liberator, the deus ex machina, the interdimensional defender. . .

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ JOT THIS DOWN IN YOUR COUNTERFACTUAL HISTORY BOOKS, MOBIUS. moebius isn’t  irreparably far gone, because WE HAVE HER. get schooled.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ a single gloved fist is pumped up into the air, thumb & pinky fingers sticking out to resemble devil horns as scourge’s gaze locks with rascal’s.

HE WANTED HER TO SEE THAT HE DID SHOW UP

HE WANTED HER TO SEE THAT HE WAS LOCKED & LOADED TO FEEL ALIVE

TO REALLY FEEL ALIVE. FOR THE FIRST TIME.

[parricider]

autopsy citation: