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He shielded his head as the crumpled paper hit him, and he rose up from the mattress, the worn bed springs creaking loudly as he got up. Luckily, he had been reading while the boil had been writing and caught both the anger and the words as they were being torn on the page.

"Being free isn't frightening. It's fun and leads to ideas and expression. Ever wonder how your master gets all his world changing ideas that you are helping with? Well, your owners are all free and they're not evil or causing the world to fall into a world of chaos? You can't say people who are free are the ones ruining the world and not to be trusted when all the people you serve under have just as much freedom as I do. Freedom isn't bad. It's what you choose to do with that freedom that makes the difference. You can still do what you want and do the world some good. It's what your owners are doing!" He pointed out, wondering if that made sense to him or if he was just going to confuse the boil ever more. It didn't seem they could get through 5 minutes without either one of them yelling or just wondering what was being said. "- AND I SAID I WAS SORRY ABOUT LIZZY! I already said I was sorry to her! GEEEZZ!!!"

It was a good thing he was already on his feet and also good that said feet had horse power. When the boil rose, he stepped back, and the look in his eye said they would NOT be embracing each other in mutual acceptance and new-found friendship. Instead, the monstrous arm said he was going to get a black eye or a broken jaw if he didn't RUN LIKE HELL!

What he managed to do was run for the nearest thing he could use to protect himself.

Hanging arms - Rigamortis would make it stiff, but they were too high up and what good was one hand when he didn't even know how to fight with the two he had?

Chairs? - There wasn't much in the way of furniture to use like a lion tamer pushing back the beast. Not now anyways.

Cry for Help- HAH! He doubted anyone would come after all the yelling he already did.

So he reached for the nearest thing he could, which happened to be a shovel and held it out. "WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT DISCIPLINE WHEN YOU AR TRYING TO KILL ME?!!"

Door. Door. Where was the dang dooooooorrrr??!!!!!

Calder, on the other hand, was not seeing as much red as the other, and was now trying to see the door instead. Okay, he had his talk. Sure, he learned a little more. Well, there he went with trying. Duty done. Maybe he'd just wind up a wild hermit in the woods now and never be allowed near water again. Didn't sound so bad now considering it meant he would have all his limbs intact. Yeah. Things didn't look so bad compared to a really angry, yet clearly insane Igor. HAH! They called HIM crazy when Everyone-Loves-Me pet over there was going to rip his face off or maybe just his limbs to add to his wall.

Whatever the case, when he went for the shovel, Calder was highly unwilling to give up the one thing that could wind up protecting him from a growling patchwork undead. So, using the lower body strength in his legs to push back to fight back Christof's upper body strength, he tried to get the shovel back. Maybe he could hit him over the head and run!

He could see the lumpy muscles streach and move under the undead's vest, and he paniked. He needed to stop him, and he didn't know exactly how. The other boil was undead which complicated matters just a bit, and he didn't want to KILL him! He just wanted to stop him so he could run out. GEEZ this guy could really strain your arm! He was practically dragging him as he held on to the shovel and tried to pull back. If he didn't do something, he'd get punched in the face, and he doubted he wanted to move into the undead dorms where Christof lived. N-O to that!

There wasn't anything to his disposal. The bombs flickered and jostled and light splashed across the desk and onto Christof's (or possibly someone else?) homework. In a mad grab, he went for the scissors and looked up. He remembered a while back with a sudden meeting with Shehk that stitching held an undead together. Pop a stitch and the whole thing came undone - at least to some extend. If Christof has his mouth shut to hold something in - maybe his brain would fall out! if it was open?!

It was worth a shot!

He moved up and pushed the scissors into the corner of the boil's mouth and where the stitches held tight against the metal and yanked back with all his might.

(( Permission to jump into RP to break it up given by MK and Bili ))

Amrita had been out walking Death Charm (who had been waiting for her outside of class, the stupid pet), so she remained blissfully unaware of the chaos that was happening in the Undead Dorms - or at least one room in specific. Not until she re-entered the dorm with Death Charm, about to go to the basement and to her own room when she hear the raised voice of someone familiar; and the fainter, muffled noises she generally associated with Christof. Normally she would have just fled back to her room as it wasn't her problem, but...she was changing, and curiousity - along with a nagging sense of foreboding - prompted her to turn down the hallway instead of walk past it, taking a moment to peek through the somewhat open door to Christof's room. Death Charm was uttering a low growl, sniffing the ground and poking his nose into a stick and a waterbug that had once been in the Kelpie's hair.

She watched as Christof took a swing at Calder, who in turn shoved something against Christof's face. Then...the wailing. The absolutely heartbreaking noise. Amrita, who had made a high pitched little 'eep' of a gasp at the patchwork's swinging fist, made a much louder cry of panic when the kelpie returned fire. This was clearly a noise that Death Charm didn't like, as the little fire beast let out a terribly deep howling roar, one that made the creature sound several times bigger than it really was, as the little Vetala burst into the room.

Apparently it was one thing she could work with Death Charm on; breaking up a clearly heated fight.

"STOP IT!" Amrita commanded in a surprisingly loud voice, rushing between the two boils, looking between the two and moving towards the one that was the most upset; Christof. She couldn't do much for him, but she was even at a loss for where to start. "What did you do?! ...What happened?!" She demanded, turning towards Calder with a frown. Despite looking at the Kelpie she was actually asking both boils; she did always forget that Christof couldn't actually speak.

Death Charm remained in the doorway, claws digging into the ground, hackles raised, and growling. The air around the creature was getting hotter, though the veins of lava that webbed his body weren't get hot enough to set anything aflame.

The hunchback's howls slowly ebbed from gut wrenching to sobbing, and it seemed he was at least PHYSICALLY okay, cradling his mouth in his mismatched hands. His... his mouth! His mouth was open! His mouth was OPEN!! It hadn't been open in... in... he couldn't remember! He couldn't remember EVER having his mouth open! He coughed, the noise strangely unmuffled, but the compulsive sobbing continued. He was dimly aware that someone else had come into the room, and at the Death Charm's roar, he quieted for a moment in shock- but... but no it was just that horrible little monster and... and Amrita was here! She couldn't see him in this state!

Whimpering still, he shifted, wobbling to try to get to his feet but it was impossible with knees that felt like jelly and so he crawled frantically towards his desk, passed the panicked kelpie to wrench open the drawer, hands shaking as he immediately grabbed the spool of thread and needle that waited there. He'd fix it, he had to fix it, he had no choice but to fix it, his MOUTH WAS OPEN!

The command to stay worked and was further reinforced by the growling beast at the door. At this point, any command would probably have been obeyed only because Calder's own mind was panicking too much to come up with any decisions for itself. The most he did do was push off a little with his hooves to get at least a foot away – just in case. However, as he did, he turned his head to look around Amirita to see if Christof was alright. What he saw wasn't anything oozing from his mouth. In fact, it looked very dark in there, but nothing out of the ordinary from what he could see. Just a mouth like anyone else – which made him wonder why he was crying in the first place. Did he accidently pop a tooth or tear a cheek? HE didn't see blood. Didn't even SMELL blood, but who could smell anything over the heavy aromas in the room already?

The only thing he saw was that Christof was crying – or somewhat crying – and that he was now getting some a spool of thread. HE WAS SEWING IT BACK???!!! "Wait? Why are you sewing it back?! You – You're not dead??!" He pushed with his hands to look at little more and check. Not only did Christof look fine – WHY WAS HE CRYING? COULDN'T HE STOP? - But he had a mouth. He wasn't shy or unable to talk. His mouth worked fine. WHY SEW IT UP??!!!!! It wasn't like it was a broken mouth that needed fixing. Why fix something the wrong way???? This boil was crazy and didn't make any sense!

Amrita looked surprised when Christof made noises she recognized. Sure he sounded like a sheep, but...it was different than the muffled noises he usually made!

"Aww, Christof, it's okay...you're not a sheep." She pat his arm, only missing the mark by a few thousand miles. But then it sank in as to what he was trying to say, or at least something that made a little more sense than turning into a sheep. She didn't think that Patchworks could shapeshifter, after all!

"Oh, wait, you mean bad?" Blinking, she thought about it; that made more sense, definitely! "It's just stitches, it's okay. Remember? I've seen you without your arm!" Out of respect she didn't look too long at his mouth as it was clearly distressing him, so she didn't quite notice the whole tongue thing...she probably wouldn't either, just like she hardly ever remembered he couldn't talk to begin with. "Umm...here, let me." She offered, backwards hands taking the needle and thread from him before he could really stop her.

"...Oh, Calder...are you okay? Did he hurt you?" She DID see the patchwork take a swing at the Kelpie...and there was a lot of screaming before hand. Calder had only received a bit of a glance in between trying to thread the needle for her friend, and when she eventually got it she thought about handing it back to Christof.

"Want me to try?" Which would be a pretty stupid idea on Christof's part, honestly. "You are shaking lots."