[ it's been some time since he was supposed to meet subaru at the park.
clumsy, staggering footsteps drag him through the city. laid over the buildings, his vision flickers to show what they once were—how they became what they now are. the fear rises up in his throat like nausea and in his ears, he can hear it, steady and continuous:
—I can change nothing no I can change nothing nothing has become my plaything I can make nothing into a weapon there will be no void left unfilled I am human and humans are always human and always scared because being human makes us scared and being scared makes us human—
the chanting eggs him on, and his head feels like a mess. it hurts, it aches, it stings, but at the very least, it's not so far gone that he finds himself unable to recognize the fact. he's not thinking clearly, and he knows he's not thinking clearly. it's hard to think clearly—but maybe if he's lucky, if he gives it a minute, it will pass.
under the red light of the moon, agent choi leans back on what's left of a dingy bus stop bench, closing his eyes as his lips move intermittently of their own accord. ]
the offering / guy who rolled a 1 on the subway trip
clumsy, staggering footsteps drag him through the city. laid over the buildings, his vision flickers to show what they once were—how they became what they now are. the fear rises up in his throat like nausea and in his ears, he can hear it, steady and continuous:the chanting eggs him on, and his head feels like a mess. it hurts, it aches, it stings, but at the very least, it's not so far gone that he finds himself unable to recognize the fact. he's not thinking clearly, and he knows he's not thinking clearly. it's hard to think clearly—but maybe if he's lucky, if he gives it a minute, it will pass.
under the red light of the moon, agent choi leans back on what's left of a dingy bus stop bench, closing his eyes as his lips move intermittently of their own accord. ]