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 can we just quit breathing â€â€
[table]He did not know how many days they had been traveling. The snow had become more apparent the closer they got to the mountains. The view of them; Rin saw them simply as white capped blue humps. The shifts in the climate from moderate to colder and dryer. The air raw and gnawing at anything exposed for its teeth to tease at. Were the Bad Lands really so much worse than this forsaken winter wonderland? Numerous times this happened to be his complaint, and just as many times it was met with that these winter wonderlanders were a much more kinder folk. Rin certainly hoped his friends were right because this weather did not explain why a bunch of nice, friendly peoples would find a home in such a less forgiving environment.
Those were the kind of banters he tended to have if at all with those friends. Two people who were unnecessarily accepting of his reclusive and anti-social behaviors. Rin never told them he liked them because he did not think he need to or knew how. But now he certainly would never see the chance arise. The time now was two days past, and all he could really see before him was what his mind feverishly replayed. Two days past, what he witnessed and what he felt. The cold was nothing compared to those hours he had endured with his friends. A seemingly band of what his friends had imagined to be Flintlockers, the winter wonderlanders, had been on a run or so they thought.
That one had waved his hands around excitedly and almost hopped about like a child unable to contain their excitement. He had run over to them with a warm smile on his face despite the land's chill. Then the other friend had grinned in relief as well, she following in his footsteps. Those supposed winter wonderlanders, in alert looked up, unwelcoming. Rin recalled his stomach weighing down in that moment, like somehow he had swallowed a boulder and it could only sit uncomfortably in his digestive pit.
The vision flickered, flashing forwards to the moment she was shot. [i]shot? there were still usable guns? Yes, Rin. He learned from that moment bullets were still an existing resource. Rin was at her side and he was looking her up and down for her hope, for his relief, but her eyes returned nothing except a window pane. Her warmth would ebb away and her breaths were silenced, at least her passing was quicker than the other.
A hard shove and a neighboring cacophony rolled in next to his battered mass. They both picked their trashed heads up and looked at each other. He was always the one with a plan, they had all been pretty decent. They may have had their narrow escapes but they always had ended up working out. Rin had always thought this friend lucky and an abstract genius. The ellipses of fresh and rich hazel however held no such promises, no light. Only defeat, fear, and remorse. They had made a mistake, they had been to eager, and now here is where fate bestowed them their hastened price. They were not going to make it out alive. That is what those eyes across form his told Rin. This is where their adventure would end, and he was not wrong.
Rin had passed out from the excruciating pain. He had known those brutes had been asking him questions, but his mind and his motor skills were not connecting, were not cooperating. They were stuck, they had been in shock. His dull brown discs had been void, showing stupor as one of their men lumbered over to encourage Rin to speak. His friend had been offed already, joining the other, Rin had not even been aware of the conversation between them and his friend, nor how his death took place. Yet he was slumped there next to his buddy's corpse, slowly draining of color and eventually left to rot. Rin felt tears hot and stinging brimming his eyes and blurring his sight. name, name, name....name... Rin did not make an attempt to stifle his pain enriched yowls and bellows. The anguish of his friends' lost to oblivion and his own physical pain enduring were swelling to chaotically to mask. He had felt loneliness before, but this had been fresh and ...
Did they think he had died with the rest of them? Was he alive by some cheated throw of the dice? His head lulled to one side, there he was. His friend decomposing, slumped against a wall with a disheartened frown and eyes open in quiet despair. Familiar thin rivers began running from Rin's eyes to bring prickling heat to frosting cheeks. Rin's pitiful mumbling noises of anguish were ugly symphonies against the silence of the land. He sucked down mucus and bitter realization that he was alone and he needed to get up and move on. But what was there to move onto, where were they going again?
The cruel animals gone, having raided most of their valuable resources and equipment. His own shoes had been ransacked, along with several items from his friends bodies. It's too cold here to even bury them, the ground is frozen even if I could shovel away any snow... Snow, it came to this. He would use snow as dirt, a very make-shift burial that stabbed his heart icily. This was all he could do, was it not? But it was not enough, this, this was undeserved. ... ...
Now, two days later, trudging through the fields of white crystal flakes. How was he not afflicted with frostbite? Left to wear only socks, now wet and freezing, his faded gray pants, and his off white sweater that draped on him like he had been standing int he splash zone of a water roller coaster. He saw it, the place where his friends had encouraged him to tag along with and find. So that they could all find a nice place to be together and happy. But they were not even here anymore. Rin was here, this was Flint Lock, but he was not happy. He was not relieved. He felt just as flooded with their absence as he did when he concealed them in the unforgiving snow. Their lack of presence so powerful he had not yet once paid mind to his lame left arm. Rin had pushed forwards a little more, took a few more steps towards the cabins and the lodges as the onset of salt water showers began. His expressionless expression deflating to a 360 of a quivering, blubbering mess. Did he even really want to be here anymore?
Those were the kind of banters he tended to have if at all with those friends. Two people who were unnecessarily accepting of his reclusive and anti-social behaviors. Rin never told them he liked them because he did not think he need to or knew how. But now he certainly would never see the chance arise. The time now was two days past, and all he could really see before him was what his mind feverishly replayed. Two days past, what he witnessed and what he felt. The cold was nothing compared to those hours he had endured with his friends. A seemingly band of what his friends had imagined to be Flintlockers, the winter wonderlanders, had been on a run or so they thought.
That one had waved his hands around excitedly and almost hopped about like a child unable to contain their excitement. He had run over to them with a warm smile on his face despite the land's chill. Then the other friend had grinned in relief as well, she following in his footsteps. Those supposed winter wonderlanders, in alert looked up, unwelcoming. Rin recalled his stomach weighing down in that moment, like somehow he had swallowed a boulder and it could only sit uncomfortably in his digestive pit.
The vision flickered, flashing forwards to the moment she was shot. [i]shot? there were still usable guns? Yes, Rin. He learned from that moment bullets were still an existing resource. Rin was at her side and he was looking her up and down for her hope, for his relief, but her eyes returned nothing except a window pane. Her warmth would ebb away and her breaths were silenced, at least her passing was quicker than the other.
A hard shove and a neighboring cacophony rolled in next to his battered mass. They both picked their trashed heads up and looked at each other. He was always the one with a plan, they had all been pretty decent. They may have had their narrow escapes but they always had ended up working out. Rin had always thought this friend lucky and an abstract genius. The ellipses of fresh and rich hazel however held no such promises, no light. Only defeat, fear, and remorse. They had made a mistake, they had been to eager, and now here is where fate bestowed them their hastened price. They were not going to make it out alive. That is what those eyes across form his told Rin. This is where their adventure would end, and he was not wrong.
Rin had passed out from the excruciating pain. He had known those brutes had been asking him questions, but his mind and his motor skills were not connecting, were not cooperating. They were stuck, they had been in shock. His dull brown discs had been void, showing stupor as one of their men lumbered over to encourage Rin to speak. His friend had been offed already, joining the other, Rin had not even been aware of the conversation between them and his friend, nor how his death took place. Yet he was slumped there next to his buddy's corpse, slowly draining of color and eventually left to rot. Rin felt tears hot and stinging brimming his eyes and blurring his sight. name, name, name....name... Rin did not make an attempt to stifle his pain enriched yowls and bellows. The anguish of his friends' lost to oblivion and his own physical pain enduring were swelling to chaotically to mask. He had felt loneliness before, but this had been fresh and ...
Did they think he had died with the rest of them? Was he alive by some cheated throw of the dice? His head lulled to one side, there he was. His friend decomposing, slumped against a wall with a disheartened frown and eyes open in quiet despair. Familiar thin rivers began running from Rin's eyes to bring prickling heat to frosting cheeks. Rin's pitiful mumbling noises of anguish were ugly symphonies against the silence of the land. He sucked down mucus and bitter realization that he was alone and he needed to get up and move on. But what was there to move onto, where were they going again?
The cruel animals gone, having raided most of their valuable resources and equipment. His own shoes had been ransacked, along with several items from his friends bodies. It's too cold here to even bury them, the ground is frozen even if I could shovel away any snow... Snow, it came to this. He would use snow as dirt, a very make-shift burial that stabbed his heart icily. This was all he could do, was it not? But it was not enough, this, this was undeserved. ... ...
Now, two days later, trudging through the fields of white crystal flakes. How was he not afflicted with frostbite? Left to wear only socks, now wet and freezing, his faded gray pants, and his off white sweater that draped on him like he had been standing int he splash zone of a water roller coaster. He saw it, the place where his friends had encouraged him to tag along with and find. So that they could all find a nice place to be together and happy. But they were not even here anymore. Rin was here, this was Flint Lock, but he was not happy. He was not relieved. He felt just as flooded with their absence as he did when he concealed them in the unforgiving snow. Their lack of presence so powerful he had not yet once paid mind to his lame left arm. Rin had pushed forwards a little more, took a few more steps towards the cabins and the lodges as the onset of salt water showers began. His expressionless expression deflating to a 360 of a quivering, blubbering mess. Did he even really want to be here anymore?
thes code
[b]RIn
[b]Trigger Warnings
 sadness, mentions of violence, death, onset of depression & griefing
status
 left arm lame & infected, needs to be amputated
 sadness, mentions of violence, death, onset of depression & griefing
status
 left arm lame & infected, needs to be amputated