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[inthewar]

[ He has no idea what the fuck is going on, but he knows he's never felt like this before. He's reflected on the things he regrets, of course, and he's been haunted by the choices he made in certain situations, but he carries on with the business of living well enough. He takes what he can get, what joy he can find, and he focuses on that.

So, what the fuck. ]

Anyone else feeling pretty shitty almost non-stop?

[ He has no shame in talking to people, why the hell not? He has nothing to hide in expressing his emotions, though that doesn't at all mean he's ready or willing to just confess all his sins to whoever the hell is listening right now. He's got some measure of control still. ]

I was a fucking asshole once. I get it. I know it.

But whatever this feeling is now - shit. It's this place, right? It's gotta be.

[ And he has this desperate, almost suffocating need to fix the terrible things he's done, but he can't. He's just paralyzed by this overwhelming feeling of being an irredeemable asshole. ]

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[abyssalarcana]

What?

[She blinks, a little breathless. She had just been getting into this, too. What the fuck is he going on about?

The only thing she can think of is that whatever the gods have done is ruining whatever they had been about to have. And, particularly, that Damien here - so easy to fool, so sensitive and so eager - is much more susceptible to their work than she is.

She's angry at the gods, mostly, but he's the one who will get the blame, as her expression shifts from confusion to anger. Betrayal, just a little. How dare he let her get worked up like this and then try to get away?]

Damien.

[Her voice isn't pleading, as she is separated from him. She doesn't beg. Instead, her tone is low - a warning. Her little victory has been torn away, and it hurts, and now she's not quite sure what to do other than let the anger feed on itself and multiply.]

[inthewar]

[ He's honestly never done this before, and he feels like shit for it. She doesn't deserve it, both his contradictory behavior, nor his fucking mess of a life. ]

I'm sorry, honey. I'm a fucking asshole, trust me, I know it.

[ He's hurt her, and honestly it's just a terrible feeling. ]

It's not you. Not you at all. It's me. I just - I gotta get outta here before I screw this up anymore.

[ And just like that, he turns to go, ready to leave. Normally, he'd at least give the girl a parting kiss but that would just make things worse in this instance. ]

[abyssalarcana]

[He turns his back and she reflexively summons her sword to her hand. He's in his own head, he doesn't suspect a thing, and she can see exactly where she would strike if she wanted to pierce through his heart and drop him dead in an instant. She can vividly picture the creep of blackness as the tissue around the wound dies and rots. It has been quite some time since she killed something that wasn't one of the pathetic monstrosities that lurk at the edges of the city and she yearns for blood.

But, wordlessly, she lets him go instead. When the time is right, she will kill so many of these pitiful mortals and pile their bodies up as a monument to the powers of the Abyss. Until that time, she will try to pretend she has given up on her plans. Many of them know what she is, and they won't forget, but at least they might grow as complacent with her walking among them as they have with the gods and with this prison. She simply needs to bide her time.]