[ breathing slow, in heaves, as he can feel the blood-water start to rise in his throat—but at last, with the pain in his chest, he can finally think clearly ]
[ she looks sad, at that, tugging him tighter into her embrace even as the sword rips painfully out of him. there's a low laugh from behind him, too -- not Absinthe's voice, but another, whoever is holding that sword. ]
I do not expect to be forgiven. But this is the role I must play, too.
[ It's some asshole. He even has that smug smirk on his face.
When you're all finished dying you'll wake up in the central area, clothes and body intact -- except for a large scar that shows where you were stabbed through. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Still—still. I feel . . .
[ what's the word ]
Terrible.
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[ there's a sincere sympathy in her voice, and she reaches forward to tug him into an embrace. ]
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exhales
we . . . are hugging the stranger now. ]
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Thank you for allowing me this time.
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. . . I have done terribly by you.
[ uh, ]
How are . . . things . . .
[ with some concentration, struggling ]
. . . here?
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maybe both ]
Mm ... well, but I do miss you.
[ there's abruptly the sharp tip of a blade pressed up against Lucifel's back. ]
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Enough to kill me—?
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[ there's a sword pushing its way into him, piercing all the way through his chest. ]
1/2
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. . . Even so, do you think you—will be forgiven?
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I do not expect to be forgiven. But this is the role I must play, too.
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When you're all finished dying you'll wake up in the central area, clothes and body intact -- except for a large scar that shows where you were stabbed through. ]