SOS Is this some kind of joke? Because if so, it's in poor taste.
Hands Tommy is at the bar nursing a whisky. He might have been here all night, but since night's all there is, that doesn't mean much anymore. Dying had been bad enough, waking up was worse, and the way the world's been twisting around him is making him wonder if this isn't just another nightmare.
He downs the whisky and raises his head to signal for another when it happens... Hands, reaching around his waist and pulling in tight. Hands on his shoulders. Cold fingers on the back of his neck. Tommy lets out a strangled shout, revulsion shuddering through him and he throws himself to the side, striking out to knock the hands away. He meets no resistance, just empty air. The stool he's on overbalances. He hits the floor hard.
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Is this some kind of joke? Because if so, it's in poor taste.
Hands
Tommy is at the bar nursing a whisky. He might have been here all night, but since night's all there is, that doesn't mean much anymore. Dying had been bad enough, waking up was worse, and the way the world's been twisting around him is making him wonder if this isn't just another nightmare.
He downs the whisky and raises his head to signal for another when it happens... Hands, reaching around his waist and pulling in tight. Hands on his shoulders. Cold fingers on the back of his neck. Tommy lets out a strangled shout, revulsion shuddering through him and he throws himself to the side, striking out to knock the hands away. He meets no resistance, just empty air. The stool he's on overbalances. He hits the floor hard.