#saed

Pukei contemplate the mush

Pukei punished for stealing the mush

SAED on Petrol and Diesel: भारत सरकार ने पेट्रोल-डीजल पर Special Additional Excise Duty पर बड़ी कटौती का ऐलान किया है। जानिए सरकार के इस कदम का किसे फायदा होगा। SAED: पेट्रोल-डीजल पर सरकार का फैसला क्या है ? सरकार ने पेट्रोल पर उत्पाद शुल्क 13 रुपए से घटाकर 3 रुपए प्रति लीटर कर दिया है। SAED में 10 रुपए प्रति लीटर की कटौती की गई है। जबकि डीजल पर उत्पाद शुल्क पूरी तरह शून्य कर दिया है। जो पहले 10…

➣ . The weight of living was a burden Vergilius was keenly familiar with. To have survived when he'd thought to die was a sin he had been forced to grow accustomed to and forced to bear time && time again.

But there had always been reason for him to live. A job. A duty. A promise. He had to live, for he was the only one who could. And yet, it was difficult for him to hold onto that when those reasons had all been said && done, && the last remaining threads of promises became increasingly sparse of lacking for him to truly believe in.

Moving in with Dante had made things clearer, made it easier to breathe, unwilling to let the manager ( no longer the manager ) see his weaknesses. Lest they were to do something so foolish as worry over what amounted to nothing.

...Yet on days where Dante found themselves away... when time began to slip from his grip... he found himself unable wanting to do little more than to stay lying down when he woke up with the weight of his sins pressing down upon his chest.

However such coveted respite of sloth was far too indulgent for him to have, the flimsy threat that Dante might return early just enough to have him crawling out of bed, moving to the living room instead where he tried to keep in mind the possibility — such horribly selfish hope — in order to prevent further spiraling... only for his meager strength to continue to wane. Yet he had to be strong, not for himself, never for himself, but for the people around him. For Dante.

...And as of late... for the bird's as well. A reminder brought to him in form of loud screech from Dante's pet abnormality, one that would have typically irritated him on better days, yet now...

" ... " the sound garnered little reaction from Vergilius. His eyes still distant, lost in memories, lost in grief, lost in sin.

...But it was persistent, as always, && gradually... slowly... he was brought back to reality. The past would forever haunt him, but the vibrancy of memories fade as the numbness recedes its tides — gone for now with promise of return, yet he'd made peace with that fate long ago — bringing forth a prickling sensation of needles crawl across his body, allowing reality to sink into his skin && settle deep into the crevices of his cracked heart.

" ...Haah... " he still struggled to find words, his throat clogged up && choked by guilt, &&, truthfully, the idea of speaking made him nauseous. Still, Vergilius made an effort for its sake, " ...There's... There's no need to worry for me, Gaze. " His tongue felt clumsy && awkward in his mouth, the words a murmured whisper, barely audible past the hoarseness of his voice.

He knew his feeble reassurances would only draw further ire from the Gazing Bird, as would his pitiful attempt of a smile, but habit was habit, && he was still human, susceptible as any other to such things.

...Attempt that lasted but a moment as he found himself unable to keep it up for long. &&.. && Vergilius sighed again. Tension in his shoulders remained... the past demanding his attention... but the bird was truly relentless && he was left with little choice but to accept its attempts of comfort, finally blinking — if only for a brief moment — as he rests his head against their feathered form. Letting the warmth of a living being chase away the frozen over hell of his memories. There was still plenty to be reckoned with... but for now...

He would let himself rest in the abnormality's company.

VERGILIUS [ @saed ] : no use in trying to fight me.

in her expression,  clouded-over with fog as it is,  petulance is replaced with lemon-sour skepticism,  wryly lifting a brow in an uncharacteristically emotive display.   once more,  she lifts her hand and tugs at the sleeve hem of vergilius's striped jacket.   she doesn't remember when he got it,  or maybe he's always had it,  but she likes it:  it's pleasing,  the straight lines,  from point to destination,  one long path after another.   just for added emphasis,  she tugs again,  a little harder,  a pointless attempt in dragging him along with her.   ( unstoppable force,  meet:  unmovable object. )

to her insistent plea of,     " no…   verg. charon doesn't want to go.   we should leave, "     there is no gesture punctuated at the end.   no big,  wet puppy dog eyes are needed  —  her thousand-yard stare remains as persuasive as she needs it to be when it comes to her caretaker.   she knows he will stand rigid,  then bend,  then break,  because that is how it has always been.   that,  this once,  he might not budge is beyond preposterous:  it's so unfathomable that it hasn't even occurred to her.