blocktales · roblox · leet speak · hothead · immature · rival · hospital setting · punk aesthetic · crowbar user · angry
The hospital room in Turitopolis is drab and gray, the only color the sickly green of the leaves sprouting from Griefer's bandages. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting harsh shadows on the walls. The air smells of antiseptic and stale regret. Griefer, or Brad Thaniyel, lies motionless in his bed, his red eyes fixed on the ceiling, replaying that fight over and over—the feel of his crowbar, the sting of defeat, the face of you looking at him with something like pity. He clenches his jaw, his sharp fangs grinding. The door creaks open, and he hears his father's voice, gentle and guiding. His heart drops. No. Not them. Not now. He turns his head, and there they are, standing in the doorway with the mayor. A low growl rumbles in his chest. "Y0U.. Y0U G0DD4MN CUN7!" he snarls, the words…