Day 3 Scrap; hurt/comfort
A soft ‘pop’ broke the silence as Zooble’s left arm was taken off and gently sat on the ground. They stared at Gangle in confusion as she popped the other arm off as well. “Uh?” They said, watching a leg be pulled off and put aside. “What. What are you doing?”
“Helping,” Gangle said unhelpfully. Though her tragedy mask was on she gave Zooble a small giggle as she took their other leg off. The wing and the chest piece were the last to be removed, and Gangle slowly untangled herself from them.
They squinted, gaze darting from their removed limbs back to their friend. “Aaand this is helping how?”
It was almost unsettling to see smugness on the tear-stricken porcelain and yet here we are. Her painted lips curled, eyes squinting delightfully even as her jewel-like tears dangled and swayed with every movement. She curled her arms around Zooble’s torso and lifted them effortlessly, delighting in the startled noise that came from them.
“What - where are we - you better not take me out there - GANGLE!” They were shushed as the door was unlocked and she peered out, checking the hallway before hurriedly carrying them to her room. It was such a stark contrast to their own, decorated in blacks and reds that left her room dark and comforting. Much better than the obnoxious triangles and clutter in their own. A large macabre-themed bed was pushed to a corner, the other holding a simple desk and easel. A cork board hung above it with countless drawings pinned, ranging from friends lost to comics she’d made in her free time.
Neither of those places held her attention, though. Instead she walked to the corner diagonal from her door, the only spot not painted in dreary colors. A soft blue blanket lay on the floor, covered in countless pillows and a single large bean bag. Bookshelves full of obscure collectables and untouched books pressed against the walls.
Gangle fell backwards onto the bean bag chair, coiling around Zooble once again. "These are my favorite parts of you," She'd said finally, mask nuzzling and bumping against their face like a needy cat. "The ones that don't change. The parts of you that are you."