Dream State...
Rickley felt at the bottom of the barrel, crying on the sidewalk cause that damn barkeep fucked with them hard. He couldn't take much more of it, he just wanted peace, he wanted the mountains. Not this cheap bar, sun-bleached alien highway, or the seedy motel they were approaching. The soft hand on his forehead felt like a bandaid on a stab wound. It felt like their options were becoming slim, and the horror of whatever had happened before they woke up at the start again was looming over him. The crack of thunder made his body shake, the electricity making his hair stand and his anxiety spike. The rain made the permanent chill in his bones seep even deeper. He didn't say anything back to Rick, he just followed him with far-off eyes.
At the motel of course they were fronted with the issue of no money, and as Rick shifted the focus on him, the panic, frustration-- it flooded him. His grip on Rick tightened immeasurably and grimy nails dug into his arm. It wasn't intentional; Rickley was so fucking strung out he couldn't help it. "FFFF-- Ffffuck, come ON! C-can't you see how fuc-fucking much we n-need this, wh-what do you want me to do m-m-man?" Rickley barked at the receptionist, breaking away from Rick and slamming his hands against the counter. "I-I-I'll do whatever you want! I j-just need shit to g-go right! Tell me what you--" He had to take a breath, almost choking as he slammed a hand on the desk, "wh-what you WANT!" He was breaking again, violent tendencies breaking through due to immense stress. He needed to lay down.
@plugrick
