T-Bag opened his eyes at the smart-ass voice and quelled his desire to lash out with his razor.
A clown stared down at him.
T-Bag just blinked up at the colorful man-thing. Great, now he was hallucinating. That was just fan-fuckng-tastic.
"Please, don't let your sympathy overwhelm me so. My fragile state just couldn't take it," Teddy gave the clown his best eye-roll despite his weakened state.
Kefka could only do one thing about a response such as that... He giggled out a response of easily matching sarcasm. "Oh, I'm totally being sympathetic to a tough-looking guy who can't handle a little pain, my friend," the 'my friend' being very mocking "Sssoooooo. You new to this place or what?"
T-Bag let his head fall back against the wall and a dry laugh wheezed out. "I'm new to every place, buddy," T-Bag spat the last word out, his Alabamian accent coming in thick. "I just got outa prison, everything's new,"
T-Bag grabbed the blue cooler again and pulled it close. "Outa curiosity, where am I?"
Oh, what an interesting accent on this little, tough-looking man with a severed hand, he thought to himself. He didn't recognize it, but considering where he was, there were plenty he wouldn't know. "Oh, prison, eh?" he smirked "You a revolutionary or just a crook? Feh, not that I really give two shits either way, but..."
He snickered at the man's query. "Sadly, you've gone from one prison and into another... You're in a mansion called Acedia where nobody can leave. There's no way out of here. You'll learn to hate this place and the other people here quickly enough, believe me, I know."
"Yep, it really sucks," he chuckled wryly, and 'sat down' Indian-style, in midair, just an inch or two above the water "It totally ruined all of my plans for where I'm from, that's for sure. Damn, only a few more seconds would have sufficed before I got pulled here..."
And then, T-Bag answered his question. Now, he was interested in this guy. "Uwee hee hee heee! Is that so?! Must be a lot of fun being you then. You ever stab someone in the breastbone and yank your blade upwards to under their chin? Or slash their throat in just a way so you could watch them bleed to death for a while while gurgle-begging for help? Or flash-frozen them and then smash them into a million pieces? Ooh, or... Ah, I've got a million more, probably, but I don't know if you wish to hear any more..."
Not like that would probably stop him from saying more, of course.
T-Bag didn't respond to the clown's list. He knew that to some extent he had done all of those things. Hell, Abruzzi's blood was still on his hands. "Can't say I've ever frozen anybody, but I have smashed a few," T-Bag pursed his lips and looked at the clown.
"You got a name, chief? Or am I supposed to call you Bobo?" The guy's face paint was giving T-Bag a headache, a pretty bad one. He didn't even notice that he was floating above the water.
"My name's T-Bag, just so you know. Though I don't know why you need to know," T-Bag gave the clown a small smirk. "Good thing that I can't go back to jail from here, otherwise I may have had to re-invent myself...again,"
"Heh, there's another good one, making their brains ooze out of their head with a well-paced smash to the skull," he chuckled.
He scowled for a moment at the query on his name, letting out a derisive snort. "Don't call me 'Bobo' again... T-Bag? Interesting, interesting. But, yes, to prevent being called that dreadful name again, I'm Kefka. The displeasure's all mine, T-Bag, uwee hee hee!"
"Ah, reinvention, I know a little about that, myself, oh yeeeessssss... But it's such a dreadfully boring-ass story."
Kefka? 'Bobo was better' T-Bag thought with a feral grin.
"I'm sure it is, so please don't feel compelled to tell it," T-Bag was getting tired of the chatter. His head was spinning and he had started to feel sick to his stomach.
Talking probably wasn't the best thing to do if he was on the verge of vomiting.
"In any case, you look a little odd, T-Bag," he said "How much blood have you lost, and how did you get your hand sliced off in the first place? 'Cause you're gonna get gangrene if you don't do something about it... Not that I care, but just sayin'."
"I'm no doctor, how the Hell am I supposed to know how much I've lost?" T-Bag snapped and looked away. "This guy I escaped with, John Abruzzi, chopped it off after I tried to make sure that I wasn't going to be left in the dust,"
"Is there a doctor hear? Or at least a medicine cabinet?"
"And I'm no doctor, either, nor am I a White Mage, so I'm not going to be helpful, Tee. As for doctors here, I don't pay attention to that sort of thing, but a medicine cabinet, I'm sure there's one upstairs in the main part of the house somewhere."
"But if you think I'm going to help you look," he added "It's not me at all. So sorry!"
Belting out a laugh, he stood up and headed for, what he didn't know yet was the entrance to the tunnels under the house.
A clown stared down at him.
T-Bag just blinked up at the colorful man-thing. Great, now he was hallucinating. That was just fan-fuckng-tastic.
"Please, don't let your sympathy overwhelm me so. My fragile state just couldn't take it," Teddy gave the clown his best eye-roll despite his weakened state.
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"Oh, I'm totally being sympathetic to a tough-looking guy who can't handle a little pain, my friend," the 'my friend' being very mocking "Sssoooooo. You new to this place or what?"
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T-Bag grabbed the blue cooler again and pulled it close. "Outa curiosity, where am I?"
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"Oh, prison, eh?" he smirked "You a revolutionary or just a crook? Feh, not that I really give two shits either way, but..."
He snickered at the man's query.
"Sadly, you've gone from one prison and into another... You're in a mansion called Acedia where nobody can leave. There's no way out of here. You'll learn to hate this place and the other people here quickly enough, believe me, I know."
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He tilted his head thoughtfully as his mind drifted back to the clown's question. "Not a revolutionary, too bad to be a crook. Color me murderer,"
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And then, T-Bag answered his question. Now, he was interested in this guy.
"Uwee hee hee heee! Is that so?! Must be a lot of fun being you then. You ever stab someone in the breastbone and yank your blade upwards to under their chin? Or slash their throat in just a way so you could watch them bleed to death for a while while gurgle-begging for help? Or flash-frozen them and then smash them into a million pieces? Ooh, or... Ah, I've got a million more, probably, but I don't know if you wish to hear any more..."
Not like that would probably stop him from saying more, of course.
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"You got a name, chief? Or am I supposed to call you Bobo?" The guy's face paint was giving T-Bag a headache, a pretty bad one. He didn't even notice that he was floating above the water.
"My name's T-Bag, just so you know. Though I don't know why you need to know," T-Bag gave the clown a small smirk. "Good thing that I can't go back to jail from here, otherwise I may have had to re-invent myself...again,"
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He scowled for a moment at the query on his name, letting out a derisive snort.
"Don't call me 'Bobo' again... T-Bag? Interesting, interesting. But, yes, to prevent being called that dreadful name again, I'm Kefka. The displeasure's all mine, T-Bag, uwee hee hee!"
"Ah, reinvention, I know a little about that, myself, oh yeeeessssss... But it's such a dreadfully boring-ass story."
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"I'm sure it is, so please don't feel compelled to tell it," T-Bag was getting tired of the chatter. His head was spinning and he had started to feel sick to his stomach.
Talking probably wasn't the best thing to do if he was on the verge of vomiting.
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"Is there a doctor hear? Or at least a medicine cabinet?"
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"And I'm no doctor, either, nor am I a White Mage, so I'm not going to be helpful, Tee. As for doctors here, I don't pay attention to that sort of thing, but a medicine cabinet, I'm sure there's one upstairs in the main part of the house somewhere."
"But if you think I'm going to help you look," he added "It's not me at all. So sorry!"
Belting out a laugh, he stood up and headed for, what he didn't know yet was the entrance to the tunnels under the house.
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He'd make his way up to the real world eventually.
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