anomalousanalogy
Bust :(
got another one, folks. warnings for character death and gore/horror for Kenny's death(s), which will be somewhat of a focus for this rp just in the sense that Butters is suddenly exempt from whatever makes everyone forget and he's just witnessed Kenny die the day before, yet here the man is, fine and dandy. Language could get pretty gory, if only because I might emphasize just how traumatized Butters will get from witnessing any deaths up close. Let me know if that bothers you and I'll keep it toned down!
"Kuh- Kenny?!" All the plans he'd made for today went right up out of existence as Butters places the figure across the street. At first he thought it was some cruel joke, but no... that was definitely his friend. Then he considered it might be some sort of vision, a hallucination. He sprints across the road, almost getting pancaked in his haste - ironic as that's how he'd seen Ken die - before grabbing Kenny's arm. He was solid, he was real.
Butters frowns and grips his own arm tight enough to hurt. Not a dream. Maybe yesterday was a nightmare, then? But god, it was so real for a nightmare - and he'd know; most of his nights were haunted by night terrors. He entertains for a moment that witnessing Kenny's death had been just a very very realistic and vivid nightmare, but no, his dreams have always had that sort of floaty, foggy feel to them, even when they were intense. And Butters could still feel the lingering grief, a physical weight in his chest from yesterday, though it was rapidly getting overridden by confusion and a little fear.
He looks down the street, squinting, as though he could see far enough to notice any blood that the town hadn't been able to fully hose away. He feels his chest constrict and his arms start to feel both heavy and light at the same time - an oncoming panic attack.
He brings himself back to the moment with a deep breath, then gives Kenny a firm, scrutinizing look. "You're... You're, uh, here. Right?" He clutches the man's arms, darting his eyes over every bit of him, looking for any sign that this might not be his friend, or for any sign of the mangling he'd witnessed yesterday.
He focuses down on Kenny's chest, remembering the way it caved in, ribs jutting through- Butters cuts the memory off with a gasp, then presses his palms to Kenny's ribcage, not realizing nor caring how it might look to everyone else. "You... yuh-you were-" He can't even get it out properly over the pain of the memory, tears already welling in his eyes as though he were right back in the moment. After another couple seconds all he can manage is a sobbed out, "Are you okay?"
Butters frowns and grips his own arm tight enough to hurt. Not a dream. Maybe yesterday was a nightmare, then? But god, it was so real for a nightmare - and he'd know; most of his nights were haunted by night terrors. He entertains for a moment that witnessing Kenny's death had been just a very very realistic and vivid nightmare, but no, his dreams have always had that sort of floaty, foggy feel to them, even when they were intense. And Butters could still feel the lingering grief, a physical weight in his chest from yesterday, though it was rapidly getting overridden by confusion and a little fear.
He looks down the street, squinting, as though he could see far enough to notice any blood that the town hadn't been able to fully hose away. He feels his chest constrict and his arms start to feel both heavy and light at the same time - an oncoming panic attack.
He brings himself back to the moment with a deep breath, then gives Kenny a firm, scrutinizing look. "You're... You're, uh, here. Right?" He clutches the man's arms, darting his eyes over every bit of him, looking for any sign that this might not be his friend, or for any sign of the mangling he'd witnessed yesterday.
He focuses down on Kenny's chest, remembering the way it caved in, ribs jutting through- Butters cuts the memory off with a gasp, then presses his palms to Kenny's ribcage, not realizing nor caring how it might look to everyone else. "You... yuh-you were-" He can't even get it out properly over the pain of the memory, tears already welling in his eyes as though he were right back in the moment. After another couple seconds all he can manage is a sobbed out, "Are you okay?"
