05-31-2018, 09:57 PM
AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT
Bastille didn't give a fuck, honestly. He seemed to have stopped caring the day that Starry died -- sure, his emotions were wild, and he seemed to care too much at times, but overall? He felt nothing. His senses were dulled, and every day that passed after the memorial, he seemed to get colder and colder. He was curling in on himself defensively, blocking out the progress he'd made emotionally in favor of the comfort of apathy, of not having to feel anything. Regardless, he had never really seemed to blame Rad in the same way that others evidently did.
"No one can fix a punctured lung," he said flatly as he came to a stop beside Rad, only sparing her a brief nudge in greeting. He had always gotten along well with Rad, and did really care if she had just now decided to rejoin the living. After a beat, he added, "And Maes was already dead, Roy. Look, Rad probably could be a little more helpful with the other shit, but she couldn't have prevented those two." A pause, as he added towards her, "Welcome back, thief."
[align=center]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGS"No one can fix a punctured lung," he said flatly as he came to a stop beside Rad, only sparing her a brief nudge in greeting. He had always gotten along well with Rad, and did really care if she had just now decided to rejoin the living. After a beat, he added, "And Maes was already dead, Roy. Look, Rad probably could be a little more helpful with the other shit, but she couldn't have prevented those two." A pause, as he added towards her, "Welcome back, thief."
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]