02-05-2020, 04:43 AM
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: black"]
— death to most was viewed as a tragedy. one minute someone was up and moving, chatting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. then, in the blink of an eye, they were just- gone. the light faded from their eyes. they ceased to exist. all they left behind were the memories people carried with them. people seemed to cling to those memories as if their lives depended on it.
freddie didn’t understand elwin’s grief. he doubted he ever could.
perhaps there was simply a part of freddie that lacked empathy at all, let alone empathy surrounding death. it was a common occurrence he witnessed growing up. who was he to know to look at it any differently than the way he’d learned to throughout his childhood? he had only been a child raised not to know any better. by the time he killed his first person, he hadn’t even flinched. did that make him the bad guy, to not even flinch at death, when that was all he knew?
he didn’t know.
stepping outside of the lodge, he squinted his eyes at the rising sun. scrunching his nose up slightly, he brought a hand up to shield his eyes-- only then noticing elwin out there. how long had he been out there? he paused. hesitated at the mere idea of going closer. he didn’t like the guy. frankly, he was just about up there with edmund on his chart of least favorites. whatever elwin was doing, grieving over this man he didn’t know -- it was simply unnatural and beyond him.
yet curious feet couldn’t help but carry him over, feet lightly crunching in the fresh snow. he slowed to a stop at elwin’s side, features unreadable as he glanced between the dead body and then elwin. was this what the guy had been up to after he - for lack of better words - cock blocked him? he pursed his lips slightly. elwin was crying. why? he turned his gaze back towards the dead body, with an almost morbid curiosity in those blue eyes. curious how the man died. curious how elwin was so strung up about it.
his brows furrowed only slightly, letting the silence linger for a bit before he spoke up. “here,” he held his hand out, gaze lingering on the body before he eventually turned his head towards elwin. “the shovel,” he felt the need to explain. as if the other male would try and take his hand or something else. the body wasn’t going to bury itself.
frederick stirling lacked empathy in every sense of the word. he struggled to put himself in someone else’s shoes, let alone in situations that left him unfazed. however, he did know how to lighten the load off of someone else’s back. let elwin stay there and cry for all he cared-- at least he could try and do the closest thing to “nice” he could manage at such a time.
//this post sucked wtf
but omg elwin the poor bby
— death to most was viewed as a tragedy. one minute someone was up and moving, chatting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. then, in the blink of an eye, they were just- gone. the light faded from their eyes. they ceased to exist. all they left behind were the memories people carried with them. people seemed to cling to those memories as if their lives depended on it.
freddie didn’t understand elwin’s grief. he doubted he ever could.
perhaps there was simply a part of freddie that lacked empathy at all, let alone empathy surrounding death. it was a common occurrence he witnessed growing up. who was he to know to look at it any differently than the way he’d learned to throughout his childhood? he had only been a child raised not to know any better. by the time he killed his first person, he hadn’t even flinched. did that make him the bad guy, to not even flinch at death, when that was all he knew?
he didn’t know.
stepping outside of the lodge, he squinted his eyes at the rising sun. scrunching his nose up slightly, he brought a hand up to shield his eyes-- only then noticing elwin out there. how long had he been out there? he paused. hesitated at the mere idea of going closer. he didn’t like the guy. frankly, he was just about up there with edmund on his chart of least favorites. whatever elwin was doing, grieving over this man he didn’t know -- it was simply unnatural and beyond him.
yet curious feet couldn’t help but carry him over, feet lightly crunching in the fresh snow. he slowed to a stop at elwin’s side, features unreadable as he glanced between the dead body and then elwin. was this what the guy had been up to after he - for lack of better words - cock blocked him? he pursed his lips slightly. elwin was crying. why? he turned his gaze back towards the dead body, with an almost morbid curiosity in those blue eyes. curious how the man died. curious how elwin was so strung up about it.
his brows furrowed only slightly, letting the silence linger for a bit before he spoke up. “here,” he held his hand out, gaze lingering on the body before he eventually turned his head towards elwin. “the shovel,” he felt the need to explain. as if the other male would try and take his hand or something else. the body wasn’t going to bury itself.
frederick stirling lacked empathy in every sense of the word. he struggled to put himself in someone else’s shoes, let alone in situations that left him unfazed. however, he did know how to lighten the load off of someone else’s back. let elwin stay there and cry for all he cared-- at least he could try and do the closest thing to “nice” he could manage at such a time.
//this post sucked wtf
but omg elwin the poor bby
[align=center][div style="width:345px; font-family: arial; font-size:10pt; color: #060845;"]DON'T JUST STAND AND STARE
[size=10pt]*･ﾟ[abbr=24 years old, male, flintlock]✦[/abbr] COME ON AND BARE YOUR TEETH
[size=10pt]*･ﾟ[abbr=24 years old, male, flintlock]✦[/abbr] COME ON AND BARE YOUR TEETH