Your name is CAELOSIA REDGLARE (more commonly known as NEOPHYTE REDGLARE), and you are currently IN A VERY DANGEROUS POSITION regarding the BLOOD REBELLION and your relationship with said rebellion's LEADER.
Of course, this does not mean you are not allowed to have a little fun now and again.
You won’t catch me doing nak! :V
Ohm 4r3 you ch4ll3ng1ng m3?
I’m not that young, but okay. :V
nak nak naknak.
I’m behaving just fine.
nak.
As far as you know.
Young 1n comp4r1son, ch1ld.
4nd 4s f4r 4s 1 know for now. Don’t l3t m3 c4tch you m4k1ng troubl3.
dom1n4t1ngl3g1sl4c3r4tor started following you
Yay a new friend!
Hello! :V
nak nak nak.
H3llo, young on3. B3h4v1ng yours3lf?
His left hand tries to weakly push aside her own gloved digits, groaning slightly under his breath in protest, he was even stubborn right before his assumed death. He tried to back his form away from her as well, attempting to wrench her hand away before a sudden hiss came from under his clenched teeth, the twitch of his waist only indicating even the slightest of pain setting off in him.
“F-ff…”
You set him up gently, working fast to find something that would work as a makeshift bandage. You are unsure as to if this can even help, but it was worth a try. You remove your belt (and the long shrouds of fabric attached) and wrap the swaths of fabric tight enough around his middle to dull the bleeding, but not too tight to make the pain worse.
“1 4m not l3tt1ng you d13 — not l1k3 th1s.”
His posture slightly relaxes from the absence of the drilling pain into the back of the chair, holy shit he could actually move without spikes stabbing into him. It gave him a short moment of breathing room and relief, hand still absent minded gripping to hers like a child with a blanket.
“W-what a-are you..”
You squeeze his hand with both of your own, a few stray tears still falling down your face.
“1’m stopp1ng you from m4k1ng 4 t3rr1bl3 m1st4k3.”
You lean in again to hug him, bloodying your vest and pants, but you can hardly care. You get up slowly, unsure about leaving him alone for even the briefest moment.
“1 4m g3tt1ng you som3 w4t3r (4nd th3 h34vy duty 4sp1r1n 1f you st1ll h4v3 1t). Pl34s3 st4y st1ll unt1l 1 r3turn.”
His left hand tries to weakly push aside her own gloved digits, groaning slightly under his breath in protest, he was even stubborn right before his assumed death. He tried to back his form away from her as well, attempting to wrench her hand away before a sudden hiss came from under his clenched teeth, the twitch of his waist only indicating even the slightest of pain setting off in him.
“F-ff…”
You set him up gently, working fast to find something that would work as a makeshift bandage. You are unsure as to if this can even help, but it was worth a try. You remove your belt (and the long shrouds of fabric attached) and wrap the swaths of fabric tight enough around his middle to dull the bleeding, but not too tight to make the pain worse.
“1 4m not l3tt1ng you d13 — not l1k3 th1s.”
The thoughts settled in his mind, Violet, Redglare. They would have to move on soon enough, it was no use being a bitter sweet addition to their life only to give them a tease, his hand gripping hers slightly, pulling it towards his cheek.
“Tell e-everyone.”
You shake your head, letting him lead your hand to his cheek. Leaning your forehead to his, you kiss him gently and his blood stains your lips. You trail one of your hands down, grasping the handle of his sickle.
“1’m sorry.”
You pull your hand away from his cheek to brace him down, wrenching the weapon free with the other. You prepare for some sort of whiplash, but the sudden onslaught of candy red nauseates you and you falter for a moment.
You look away and just continue your weeping. You don’t know how to respond and even if you probably couldn’t say it in the tone you’d like to, anyways. You can’t tell her to go away either, because what comes out of your mouth would more sound like begging than a astrict order.
You stand, but stay exactly where you are. Your lips are drawn taught, confusion and distaste clear on your face.
You would not leave until she directly told you to go.
P4th3t1c, don’t you th1nk?
His eyes tear up, not because of the wrenching pain twisting itself into a thousand complicated knots every second, winding and unwinding, giving him the tease of the tense rest afterwards but soon stabbing him with flurries of prickling pain, his hand gripping the blade of the caked sickle, though doing not much else with it, his hand limp in hers.
“I-I was going to die a-anyway and y-you know it.”
You shake your head, tears falling from your face and onto his. You refuse to believe that everything he had ever done would amount to such a bitter end.
“Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! 3v3ryon3 d13s, you 1d1ot! You d1dn’t h4v3 to sp33d th3 godd4mn proc3ss up!”
You choke back another sob, pulling his hand up to your lips. It feels limp and broken in your own hands, and this scares you. He couldn’t die.
“Don’t you d4r3 l34v3 m3, you 4sshol3. Don’t you d4r3 l34v3 4ny of us.”
You try to ignore Redglare just sitting there. Is she enjoying this that much? Is she having fun? You allow yourself to glance up to look at her. Sobbing, tears still escaping you, you look at her with bloodshot eyes. What the hell does she want from you. Now of all times. You can’t ask. Your voice is too weak. You are too weak.
You’re at a loss. You do get a small enjoyment out of this, yes, but you still don’t know how to handle anyone who’s crying.
Like Hell if you made her cry harder.
Your face remains stoic as she glances up at you, and you sit up a little straighter.
H3 f1n4lly d1d 1t, th3n.
