it's too dark to aim this gun;; OPEN
who ; Rattmann and YOU
what ; Vandalizing public property in the form of colorful murals. Again.
where ; Pick a zone, any zone.
when ; Now. Yes, right now.
warning(s) ; Paranoia, philosophy, incoherence. Basically Rattmann.
[AM's takeover and the resulting chaos hadn't done anything good for Rattmann's nerves, even when being trapped for some time in a zone with rapidly depleting oxygen wasn't taken into consideration. he'd been running and relocating since he'd been dropped on this godforsaken station, and the stress and lack of necessities were beginning to get to him a little. he felt so tired, so much more tired than usual. his mind was a spinning mess of screaming anxiety and guilt, pounding pounding aching every time he tried to take a breath.
he needed to paint again.
once he was sure that the coast was clear (although how clear it really was with his shaking hands and ringing ears he didn't know) he slunk to the closest blank wall with his little stash of paints and began to draw. he didn't know whose wall this was, if anyone would care that he wrote on it, only focused on the brush strokes weaving back and forth before his eyes.
his style is the same as always, although his subject matter isn't Chell. occasionally he'll be unable to restrain himself and the drawings peter out into mad incoherent scribblings, slashed across the wall like an angry wound.
once he finished he collects his things and moves on to repeat the process again. it would be some time before his mind would clear.]
what ; Vandalizing public property in the form of colorful murals. Again.
where ; Pick a zone, any zone.
when ; Now. Yes, right now.
warning(s) ; Paranoia, philosophy, incoherence. Basically Rattmann.
[AM's takeover and the resulting chaos hadn't done anything good for Rattmann's nerves, even when being trapped for some time in a zone with rapidly depleting oxygen wasn't taken into consideration. he'd been running and relocating since he'd been dropped on this godforsaken station, and the stress and lack of necessities were beginning to get to him a little. he felt so tired, so much more tired than usual. his mind was a spinning mess of screaming anxiety and guilt, pounding pounding aching every time he tried to take a breath.
he needed to paint again.
once he was sure that the coast was clear (although how clear it really was with his shaking hands and ringing ears he didn't know) he slunk to the closest blank wall with his little stash of paints and began to draw. he didn't know whose wall this was, if anyone would care that he wrote on it, only focused on the brush strokes weaving back and forth before his eyes.
his style is the same as always, although his subject matter isn't Chell. occasionally he'll be unable to restrain himself and the drawings peter out into mad incoherent scribblings, slashed across the wall like an angry wound.
once he finished he collects his things and moves on to repeat the process again. it would be some time before his mind would clear.]