the aftermath is secondary

RIGBY

They’re all adults, right? The jury was not in on this one yet, as Rigby screwed up his nose when Milo told him to 'do better' and he blew a ring of smoke up in the redhead's face. He was getting tired, his body having exerted all it's energy in making it down Apopo conscious, and burning up the rest with this conversation. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at the blood on his clothes, on his hands, on his skin where the open would should still be.

He ignored Milo and Aurelia's little moment, whatever it was they had going on, instead he just sat there, fiddling with the dried blood on his knuckles and scratching it away with blunt nails. He hadn't at all expected this day to be this way, he didn't want to be involved in these relationships, this drama and trouble. He didn't want to be shot in the leg, or have his blood all over their hands. He still seethed a bit, but exhaustion and something a bit sadder occupied his mind now. A few moments later he looked up, Milo addressing him now. The man's words were confusing, not in a way that he didn't understand them, more that he didn't understand why. "The fuck you want me for," he snapped, cautious, brows narrowed, still frazzled and defensive, on wild dog mode.

i'll make you understand
and you can trade me for an apparition