@sanguinehaven sent: ❝ It's one of their rare breaks, and they decided to visit Spaz. He's good company, he's nice, and hey, maybe they'll see him dealing with some weirdos. How did he do that anyways? They probably wouldn't be able to handle the constant weirdness he apparently attracts. Although...seems like this time that weirdness was a little more on the aggressive side. *Don't talk to him like that. They say, speaking up after someone rather questionable, bombarding their friend with odd requests and rather personal questions. Doesn't seem like that stranger appreciated it, immediately getting in Cerise's face, and it seems like they were going to try and deescalate the situation until....They were hit. Taking a few steps back, Cerise seems a bit lost for words... ❞

The weirdos. The strange puppet's equally freaky faceless, unknown customers, always jumping between excessively kind to cruel and sadistic on a moment's notice. Cerise was welcome in the glitched little store front, to watch his silly conversations, watch him try to sell random items he found in the dump, and answer... degrading questions.

But then they interject. He frowns and raises his hands to mime that they should stop from over the customer's shoulder, a panicked grin tight on his face, too tongue tied-- as always-- to get out a coherent thought as the taller stranger-- everyone was always taller than him, bigger than him-- stands between him and his friend. One of his so few friends. He wants to tell them to back off, tell them they're too close! Don't touch them, don't touch them, don't--

But they did. And he sees Cerise's health go down.

And he starts seeing... red. Faster than he can think to realize it, like flood gates opened in his head, his temper shatters wherever he kept it inside like a pressure valve burst. It was enough to turn not just his face but his whole body that vibrant shade of devil crimson. And the very next thing the other addison would see... is a black phone receiver rocketing from below and wrapping itself around the customer's neck.

" * ITS FOR YOU [ its for you ] ITSFORITSFOR-- I T S F O R Y O U... "

The sound of his increasingly distorted and deepening voice is followed by the sight of his blacked out eyes on his blood red face, wildly grimacing, shoes perched against their back as he practically climbed and reigned them-- just by the throat and not the teeth. Yank. Yank! Until the taller one falls down, knocked to their face. He pulls tighter, letting up for only three briefest jolts as he yanks and wraps his mechanical knuckles in the wire, tighter and tighter, a better grip to pull with. " * DO YOU WANT TO [ HURT ] PEOPLE-- PE oPLE-- HURT PEOPLE? DO YOU? " Every movement of his teeth forces steam from his mouth. Worn, white business shoes stomp their heel into the back of their head-- again and again-- an act of pure frustration. All of this, not a skill he had, just what the anger wanted to do in the moment.

" * 1S IT FUN? " Do you have any idea how easy it is to lose someone? A monster, especially? " * ARE!! YOu !! [ having fun yet? ] !? " A few numbers, ticked away, and suddenly nothing's left! Do they know what they'd be taking from him if they went just a little too far? Hit them one too many times? One of the only people patient and kind enough to care for him in this whole damned city? Do they want to send him back to nothing? Do they want him alone again-- is that it?

... He realizes the feeling of struggle in his wire has long disappeared. He lets go. No movement, no breath in. They've... died. He's killed them. With his whole body shaking, he retracts the phone weapon-- if that's what it was now, instead of just the magic he used to make calls on the go-- back into himself, staring at the floor as his eyes flicker back to color. Though he's still deep red.

" ....... ARE you ... OK, [ pal ]? " He tries to smile but its crooked, and he doesn't look at them, of course, how could he? But he was talking to Cerise, not the customer.