He hisses, making frantic low noises of stop stop stop whoa stop but Rhys is pulling anyway and, frustrated, BJ finally drops the string in a huff, letting the half-finished game collapse.

"Fuck you, Rhysball." He retorts angrily, getting up off the bed, or trying to. He manages to swing his legs up off the side and stand, but walking sucks so he face-plants onto his own bed next to Rhys'. Leaving him with fingers tied up.

"They won't let me leave this place." He moans pathetically into his pillow. "It's all, 'no, you're death tolling, you have to SIT.' I'm already dead and now the one thing I had going gets ruined because YOU had to wake up."