Life on the naughty list
[So Lyn - the twitchy, eternally paranoid thief that likes to never be far from a door or window he can bolt out of - fell asleep immediately after reading his letter from Santa, and has only just awoken someplace very different. Specifically, a padded cell with no doors. Also? He's in a straitjacket.
All the room has is a phone, which he knocks off the hook entirely by accident while he is flipping the fuck out. Oh, he's vaguely aware of said phone, but in light of everything else, its presence and the possibility of communicating with anyone are barely registering.
Instead, there are explosive strings of profanity, the fury and fear in them - to say nothing of decibel level - almost beyond tolerance. There are also frequent loud thumps as Lyn kicks the walls or, in the extremity of his panic, throws himself against them. From the sounds of it, the moment he knocked the phone off the wall was by no means the beginning of the yelling.]
-OU FAT MISERABLE FUCK! YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?! [Slam.] I'LL FUCKING RIP OFF YOUR FACE AND BOIL IT IN ACID, THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME! LET ME OUT OF HERE OR I SWEAR TO GOD - [Thud.] - I'LL SHOW YOU EVERY SINGLE THING THAT A DEMON KNOWS ABOUT TORTURE! WE WROTE THE BOOK! I'LL BE A YEAR FINISHING THE FIRST PAGE ON YOUR ASS! [Slam.]
[However, throats and lungs have limits. Eventually Lyn will exhaust himself, at which point people may be able to get some sort of hoarse coherence out of him.]
All the room has is a phone, which he knocks off the hook entirely by accident while he is flipping the fuck out. Oh, he's vaguely aware of said phone, but in light of everything else, its presence and the possibility of communicating with anyone are barely registering.
Instead, there are explosive strings of profanity, the fury and fear in them - to say nothing of decibel level - almost beyond tolerance. There are also frequent loud thumps as Lyn kicks the walls or, in the extremity of his panic, throws himself against them. From the sounds of it, the moment he knocked the phone off the wall was by no means the beginning of the yelling.]
-OU FAT MISERABLE FUCK! YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?! [Slam.] I'LL FUCKING RIP OFF YOUR FACE AND BOIL IT IN ACID, THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME! LET ME OUT OF HERE OR I SWEAR TO GOD - [Thud.] - I'LL SHOW YOU EVERY SINGLE THING THAT A DEMON KNOWS ABOUT TORTURE! WE WROTE THE BOOK! I'LL BE A YEAR FINISHING THE FIRST PAGE ON YOUR ASS! [Slam.]
[However, throats and lungs have limits. Eventually Lyn will exhaust himself, at which point people may be able to get some sort of hoarse coherence out of him.]