Klaus has grown used to the tell-tale sound of Five's spatial jumps. When he begins hearing them all throughout the house (on the days he's actually sober enough to do so), he sometimes tries following the noise, attempting to catch his brother in whatever he seems to be doing, but he's never quite fast enough.
So far, he's run into rooms and seen random items-- things from the kitchen counters on the floor, broken bottles, scattered hygienic products. What the hell is Five up to with these random jumps and why's he throwing shit all over the floor?
His answer comes in the form of a high-pitched scream that he wastes no time running toward, rounding corners and stumbling down stairs, until he comes across— Number Five clutching the chandelier. Klaus leans over the bannister, eyes narrowing and head tilting. Okay, he knows he's maybe coming down from something, but that is literally his brother hanging from the ceiling.
"What. The fuck. Are you doing?" Such eloquence, and so very observant. He bends further over the railing, like it'll help him see better, even if he can only tell that Five looks a little flushed. "Have you lost your damn mind?"
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So far, he's run into rooms and seen random items-- things from the kitchen counters on the floor, broken bottles, scattered hygienic products. What the hell is Five up to with these random jumps and why's he throwing shit all over the floor?
His answer comes in the form of a high-pitched scream that he wastes no time running toward, rounding corners and stumbling down stairs, until he comes across— Number Five clutching the chandelier. Klaus leans over the bannister, eyes narrowing and head tilting. Okay, he knows he's maybe coming down from something, but that is literally his brother hanging from the ceiling.
"What. The fuck. Are you doing?" Such eloquence, and so very observant. He bends further over the railing, like it'll help him see better, even if he can only tell that Five looks a little flushed. "Have you lost your damn mind?"