[ He's not bloodied , though. He's not even wearing the same black when he died--no, he's in a bleach-stained Nirvana shirt, ratty red chuck taylors. Ripped, torn jeans. The grunge-era had never stopped for him, after all. ]
Bang.
[ He draws his hand up to his own face. Fingers forming a gun, reaching up to his forehead. ]
no subject
[ He's not bloodied , though. He's not even wearing the same black when he died--no, he's in a bleach-stained Nirvana shirt, ratty red chuck taylors. Ripped, torn jeans. The grunge-era had never stopped for him, after all. ]
Bang.
[ He draws his hand up to his own face. Fingers forming a gun, reaching up to his forehead. ]
Pow!