#everfought

           THWIP.....SHHK. 

                      The wizard stumbled back, hands shakily                               reaching up to grab at the knife that now                                had embedded itself into his chest. Softly                                gasping in a mixture of shock in pain. This                                is what he got for stepping into help what                                seemed like someone in distress during a bandit raid. 

Open terminal // @everfought

>>Open INVENTORY?     >Yes.     >No.

>>INVENTORY:     >The List        >UNEQUIP?        >EXAMINE?     >Mask     >Bad News     >Quickness of Action Manual     >Tinker’s Kit     >Rapier

>>Now that you are all ALONE in the darkness of your WORKSHOP you take a moment and examine your weapon. Your first creation. The first that ever mattered. You built it to have one function and one function alone. To kill and destroy for the purposes of your VENGENCE.

>>The metal is COLD and HARSH to the touch.

>>As your finger absentmindedly brushes across one of the engravings on the barrels you picture them perfectly in your mind. And every HORRIBLE and TWISTED thing you could imagine to make them suffer.

>>A cold sensation grips your heart and becomes numb. The instinctive pull back from such thoughts is vanquished by you. These…imaginings are the best comfort you could have while trying to sleep.

>>You are BROKEN.

>>You have the heart of a MURDERER.

>>You don’t care.

>>Slouching in your chair, elbows sink to your knees and the barrels of the gun rests against your forehead as you hold it close to yourself. 

>>Met with indifference from the World and Gods alike you put your faith in this…distorted ideal. A desire to MURDER your way to PEACE.

>>Perhaps in the very far back of your mind you don’t even believe its possible. But you blind yourself to it. It is the only thing you can possibly think to do. The only thing that you could think to possibly give you back what you NEED most. No matter how impossible it may actually be.

>>It’s all you have. This is all you can hang on to.

>>Put away the PEPPERBOX?     >Yes.     >No.

>>You cling to the object, keeping it always in your grasp even as you begin to settle in an attempt to sleep.

>>Your NEUROTIC tendencies are weighing you down heavily tonight.

>>Do you SLEEP?     >Attempt.     >No.

Open terminal // @everfought

>> Open PARTY?      >Yes.      >No.

>> Select PARTY MEMBER:      >GROG      >KEYLETH      >PIKE      >VAX’ILDAN          >EXAMINE?          >EQUIP?      >VEX’AHLIA

>>As your blurry gaze comes back to you, back firmly pressed against a tree and slouching for comfort it finds the only figure still awake. VAX’ILDAN must have taken watch again tonight…

>>Interact with VAX’ILDAN?     >I want to…     >I can’t.

>>You remain silent, hidden among the sleepers.

>>You’ve learned to know better by now that any words from your mouth will only make things worse. You lack the abilities to reach out to a dear FRIEND and mend the distance between the two of you.

>>The ROGUE has made it abundantly clear he didn’t want to hear anything out of your “Know-it-all fucking mouth”.

>>You don’t blame him for that.

>>Your words are nothing but pompous excuses. What was done could never be undone. You single-handedly almost destroyed your family. And still may have depending on what that RAVEN BITCH comes to claim from VAX.

>>Do you want to go BACK?     >Yes.     >Every day…     >We all make mistakes.

>>But you can’t. Your eyes linger on his back, taking in the details of the shadows that caressed his cloak in reaction to the fire. Wishing you knew the words to formulate an APOLOGY that would matter. But there isn’t any, in this world or the next.

>>Do you speak?     >Yes.     >No.

>>Even though every part of you wants to you remain quiet.

>>Do you speak?     >Please…     >No.

>>You stare through the sides of half-opened eyes for what feels like forever, aware enough to know you can’t do anything to make it like before. This wasn’t like a project that could be fixed. But you find it so much easier to just PROCESS. You can’t FEEL like he can.

>>Do you speak?    >I’m so sorry.    >No.

>>You remain silent as the last of your consciousness is dwindled to nonexistence. Your eyes are too heavy with regret to continue this charade any longer.

>>You bundle within yourself once more and sleep.

>>Your sleep is once again haunted with nightmares of times long since gone from you. But the feelings and memory are as fresh as the scars you keep opening inside yourself.

How he could ever trick himself into believing it’d all be okay now that his mistake had been corrected was beyond him. Thinking otherwise had been a sad little invention, another creation born of his desperate will to keep what he had. A sad fear that had blinded him to the real truth before his eyes. The truth he didn’t want to see about himself.

Apologies were meaningless.

Words were meaningless. No amount of carefully chosen words could take back his mistake.

All the time he spent refining his self-control, his own discipline to never act blindly on emotion and make another terrible choice was for not. Because when it came down to it he still failed. And believing there would be no punishment? No repentance was foolish.

So when his friend’s fist connected with his cheek he thought to just accept that.

What had he honestly expected the half-elf’s reaction to be when he admitted fault for such a vital mistake as nearly killing Vex’ahlia. And not to mention the consequences yet unknown that would follow that shadowed figure they bore witness to. Did he honestly expect forgiveness? Foolish if so. Punishment, however… that was a serving he had much more experience in.

The human spun on his heels from the impact, barely catching himself from falling into the dirt. Vax’ildan sure didn’t pull his punch. The inside of his cheek was cut open now and he could taste the iron. The initial flash of emotion was a hot anger but that flame very quickly burnt out into ash. Percival felt his face contort and a deep exhale calm his nerves. All while hiding his face from the rogue. Which was cowardly, and he wasn’t a coward. He would not run away from this. Nor could he fight it. This was not a battle that could be solved with his demented inventions of murder. This was…something different. Something he couldn’t fix. Words would fail because words were just not enough.

What was done was irrevocable. The shift was immediate and sudden and this… this friendship he might have once believed they held had died in that room under the Raven Queen’s watchful eye.

Straightening his back, Percy turned to face Vax. Wordless. An unspoken conversation conveyed through body language. The gunslinger’s face was empty… accepting. His arms were slack and remained at his sides. It was clear he had no intention of retaliation. It was clear what was implied.

Oliver’s eyes watch the form, taking note of the way his Uncle’s arm swings and the moment his hands release the small blade sending it twirling through the air with a certain fluid grace that he thought only existed in the stories he was told.

The boy’s head turned to follow the arc all the way to the mark. Dead on. Not off at all. If this had been a real encounter the enemy would surely be dead. And then in the blink of an eye, the dagger was gone. Oliver’s eyes shone with amazement. He read the stories and they had mentions of such feats but it was a completely different thing to see it happen in front of your eyes.

“Whoa...” Was all he could make out as his Uncle handed the blade back to him. “That’s amazing.” And now it was his turn to be ‘amazing’. If his skill during his Mother’s archery lessons were anything to go on, however, it wouldn’t be so ‘amazing’.

Centering his body to the target he lifted his arm in the air, holding tight to the handle of the blade. Just as his Mother told him, ‘in any situation that called for distance eye the target and make sure you’re lined up to strike true’. At least, he hoped the same idea would apply to dagger tossing.

Taking in one deep breath and then exhaling it all away he threw his body forward swinging his arm and releasing the dagger— only for it to skew way off to the side completely missing the wooden enemy entirely and skidding across the dirt.