[Answering static, sharp and akin to nails on a chalkboard. It heaves, over and over, in a rhythmic manner that eventually evens out into heavy rasps of labored breathing. When Chara responds, it's--
Barely. A croak of sound, like their throat has been rubbed with sandpaper.]
Who...
Who's there? An- [They cut themself off with a muffled, wet cough, which quickly dissolves into a series of heaving noises.]
I don't need a doctor. Tell mother-- no more doctors.
I'm going for separate and hoo fucking boy -- TIMELINE OPTION 6
Barely. A croak of sound, like their throat has been rubbed with sandpaper.]
Who...
Who's there? An- [They cut themself off with a muffled, wet cough, which quickly dissolves into a series of heaving noises.]
I don't need a doctor. Tell mother-- no more doctors.
No more.