02-05-2020, 12:33 AM
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Elwin has killed a man.
His medical training is by no means extensive. Most of his knowledge was gleaned through experience. Like teaching someone to swim by throwing them head-first into a lake, Elwin had been thrown head-first into the infirmary. First it had been a punishment, then it had become routine. He was good at what he did, mostly because he didn’t give two shits if you were screaming your head off or not. The instructions were simple—keep ‘em still and push until something pops.
He’s still too proud to admit out loud he had no clue what he was doing. The other day had been a disaster. Luckily that man was his only casualty, but … wow, does he feel like a monster. He’s never known what it was like to hold someone’s life in his hands until then.
His body sits outside, blanketed in a thin layer of fresh snow from last night. The sun has barely risen over the horizon. Elwin stares it down, shovel in hand, lip quivering.
He killed someone.
Now, Elwin has done some awful things. He has hurt himself, his family, and everyone in between with his reckless behavior. However, he’s never had the joy of facing the consequences of his actions. He was young, they let him off the hook. He was not in the right state of mind, he was hurting, he was just careless. The village tried their best to raise him right, but the constant excuses for his actions did little to set him straight. No, he never learned his lesson.
Does this count?
He’s being forced to stare into the dead, frozen face of a man who would’ve been alive to see the dawn today had he not fucked up. He doesn’t know this man’s name, if he had a wife or kids or a family, or if there was somebody in the crowd of refugees that’s missing him. It’s too late to ask now, isn’t it?
He needs to bury him, or do something with the body, at least, so he isn’t all strewn out like this, but he can’t bring himself to touch the man. He feels like he’ll dirty the poor thing. How insulting it would be, to be shoved six feet underground by the very boy whose hands your blood is on! Elwin just drops to his knees. He doesn’t know what to do.
So, naturally, the first thing he does is cry.
[sorry this is so ... not good]
Elwin has killed a man.
His medical training is by no means extensive. Most of his knowledge was gleaned through experience. Like teaching someone to swim by throwing them head-first into a lake, Elwin had been thrown head-first into the infirmary. First it had been a punishment, then it had become routine. He was good at what he did, mostly because he didn’t give two shits if you were screaming your head off or not. The instructions were simple—keep ‘em still and push until something pops.
He’s still too proud to admit out loud he had no clue what he was doing. The other day had been a disaster. Luckily that man was his only casualty, but … wow, does he feel like a monster. He’s never known what it was like to hold someone’s life in his hands until then.
His body sits outside, blanketed in a thin layer of fresh snow from last night. The sun has barely risen over the horizon. Elwin stares it down, shovel in hand, lip quivering.
He killed someone.
Now, Elwin has done some awful things. He has hurt himself, his family, and everyone in between with his reckless behavior. However, he’s never had the joy of facing the consequences of his actions. He was young, they let him off the hook. He was not in the right state of mind, he was hurting, he was just careless. The village tried their best to raise him right, but the constant excuses for his actions did little to set him straight. No, he never learned his lesson.
Does this count?
He’s being forced to stare into the dead, frozen face of a man who would’ve been alive to see the dawn today had he not fucked up. He doesn’t know this man’s name, if he had a wife or kids or a family, or if there was somebody in the crowd of refugees that’s missing him. It’s too late to ask now, isn’t it?
He needs to bury him, or do something with the body, at least, so he isn’t all strewn out like this, but he can’t bring himself to touch the man. He feels like he’ll dirty the poor thing. How insulting it would be, to be shoved six feet underground by the very boy whose hands your blood is on! Elwin just drops to his knees. He doesn’t know what to do.
So, naturally, the first thing he does is cry.
[sorry this is so ... not good]
[sub]the artist formerly known as hal[/sub]
Hoot gives Hal’s body a hug