⬣//A BRIEF REPRIEVE

[cccorp]

>>Look at me.

⬣//BREATHE. EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY.

This is your Official™ catch-all log for the month of November. While the boss battles rage on, those of you who are looking to disengage from combat and kick your feet up for a spell can do so here.

Post your open prompts in this post. Closed starters may also be posted here or on @Altimit, but all open posts belong here in this log. Lawbreakers will be bent over the modly knee and paddled into compliance. Thank you.

>>Navigation

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[tablescraps]

( Anger just needs a target. He rends the wall with such ferocity in his strikes that it really seems he might break through from sheer force of will - though ░░░░░, of course, knows he cannot. His HP in critical, every blow is another chunk of SP blown through, and with every lurch there is this deluge of blood gushing free from his stomach, splattering staining the burnt grass. Hien's tree remains untouched. His vision grows vague, but he sets his body aside. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need anything that doesn't get him a step closer to this man's death.

He slices through the potion of whatever remains of it as it bursts, his blade stopping just a hair short of Hien's face as the potion's fine mist settles into him.

He regrets, foremost, that he hasn't killed Hien yet.

But he has a lot of regrets like that. Shallow regrets, that don't really mean anything. He regrets that he killed Barrett. He regrets that he killed Niamh. He regrets giving Sinclair his word. He regrets that he's failed to keep hold of the few good things he'd managed to find, always, here and back home. They're all winding branches that form a tumbleweed tangle, all the pain he'd felt and he had caused trying to remedy his hurt, but they all come from a singular root: )

... I know things would have been better if I hadn't been born.

( He, himself.

It would have saved other people a lot of heartbreak. It would have saved himself some, too.

His legs tremble, struggling, finally, under the weight of battle, of blood loss, of grief, and for all his overwhelming apology, there is still some flicker of him that burns like it might seek violence through this grief, too, until something found a way to snuff him out. Similar, in some way, to Hien's circumstance.

His blade drops before Mithrun does, but he goes go down. The impalement had been no small thing, and he'd moved too much after.

But even in his unconsciousness, he doesn't sleep peacefully. )

cw suicidal ideation

[selfconcept]

[ Hien looks at Mithrun fall. He's no longer smiling behind those bandages, and watches Mithrun bleed out. He heals him to full, but watches the HP tick down slowly. It must be because of the gaping wound. ]

... I feel the same.

[ And this is a guy without memories, who's read through his memories in a log that he's written himself before most of his memories were purged. He doesn't feel anything about what he'd written down, because he no longer feels connected to said memories. "Hyunjung Kang" was a mistake as deemed by the people who brought him into existence. The same people killed "Hyunjung" and left the husk as one without a name. ]

But we're here despite that. We suffer while living.

[ Hien picks Mithrun up in his arms despite the bloodiness. ]

You have friends and people who love you. You regained your sense of self. I'm glad. Hold that with you close to your heart.

... Because then at least one of us will.

[ Afterwards, Hien takes Mithrun to the infirmary in Net Slum, where the head nurse will be fretting over Mithrun's injuries. Yes, he will be strapped to a bed. No, they will not come loose with biting. ]