[Timothy's been quiet lately but now is a better time than ever to speak up again after lobotomy week and heading onward into this current disaster. Funnily enough, the issue he is that he can't speak as he is missing his larynx, so that makes things a little difficult. He looks quietly determined if not a bit concerned, brows knitted together.
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Hmmmmmmm.... I might have. Depends. What did he look like? D'you know how he screamed?
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I'll kill you myself if you've done something to him.
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My my my my my, you may be more interesting than I thought.
Jonathon...Jonathon, Jonathon, Jonathon... [As if he's committing the name to memory.]
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You don't know him, you're playing me for a fool.
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And it wasn't exactly hard, I mean, really, put a little effort into it next time.
Can't believe everything you're told, after all.
Now, would you prefer to use a knife or more of a.... blunt sort of instrument?
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[He twiddles his fingers disconcertingly, jotting something down on his desk in the dimly lit room he's currently staying in.]
Be seeing you, Timothy.
[He drops a Joker card on the screen, and there's nothing but the sound of disturbingly cheerful puttering paired with tuneless whistling for a few seconds before the feed cuts.]
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[Hee hee hee.]
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He proved that when he paid me a visit out of the blue.
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im coming over. lock your door. dont open it for anyone but me.
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I am.
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[Minutes later, he's banging at the suite door with his shield and a shank, looking horribly tense.]
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He came during the plant week, when I was dying--it's how I got the cut on my face.
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