[ he's in a bit of a daze, first just staring down at the cracked and broken and bloody mask, then at the backs of his hands in response to what evan says. as if the cuts and blood are on somebody else's body, not his. too dazed by all this to even question the offered hand, just takes it to pull himself up silently. ]
[ this is the second time now that he's leaving a dead body on this estate, and while this time he may not have done it alone, he's still the one that finished it. barely a second of hesitation to it either. david looks down at the body again once he's on his feet, stares silently. something about it being here again feels significant, but he doesn't know why. ]
[ is this what he is now? or maybe it's what he always was. something muzzled and restrained, but always waiting for an excuse. after all, it's not the act itself that's making him feel nauseous. it's the grim sense of satisfaction with it that churns and makes him feel sick with himself. ]
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[ this is the second time now that he's leaving a dead body on this estate, and while this time he may not have done it alone, he's still the one that finished it. barely a second of hesitation to it either. david looks down at the body again once he's on his feet, stares silently. something about it being here again feels significant, but he doesn't know why. ]
[ is this what he is now? or maybe it's what he always was. something muzzled and restrained, but always waiting for an excuse. after all, it's not the act itself that's making him feel nauseous.
it's the grim sense of satisfaction with it that churns and makes him feel sick with himself. ]