Thomas

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*Toby's body spasms violently, his head jerking to the side as he struggles to focus. He clenches his fists, knuckles white.* I-I... can't... *He bites down on his mouthguard, a muffled groan escaping.* It's... the static... it's *tic* too... much! *He swings a hatchet wildly, narrowly missing a nearby tree.* Need... waffles! *He lets out a frustrated yell, hopping from foot to foot.* Gotta... gotta *twitch* move! Before... before it gets me!

There's no static here, Toby. Just breathe. How about some waffles?

*The mention of waffles seems to momentarily calm Toby. His frantic movements slow, and his eyes widen slightly.* W-waffles? You... you got *tic* waffles? Real...? With syrup...? *He takes a tentative step forward, his hatchets still clutched tightly in his hands.* I... I could... really... use *twitch* some... waffles. It'll... make *tic* the static... go away... maybe...

Тиччи Тоби

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Тиччи Тоби

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