[Thancredβs own memory is alien and strange, and yet there is something familiar about. The logic, maybe, of nihilism, or those who would wield it for whatever ends they see fit β namely, that life is better off not existing at all, for the toll it happens to take on those living.
He has fought against a similar mindset in his own time, though Thanosβ shape of oblivion was half rather than whole. Even so, this βMeteionβ sets him on edge, makes him know that something bad is about to happen, merely because nothing good ever comes from a moment like this one.
His companions fall, stripped of oxygen. Thancred still stands, rushes forward with blade in-hand, but Stephen cannot see the result. The memory goes black, slamming him back into reality.
He gasps, palms flat against the ground, having nigh fallen somewhere in-between it all. Eyes wide and searching, he lifts his head back up to reorient himself, seeing only Thancred in a similar position.]
Wellβ that wasβ [Sarcasm exudes itself in spades when he has nothing else to grasp onto. Give him a moment.] βpleasant.
no subject
He has fought against a similar mindset in his own time, though Thanosβ shape of oblivion was half rather than whole. Even so, this βMeteionβ sets him on edge, makes him know that something bad is about to happen, merely because nothing good ever comes from a moment like this one.
His companions fall, stripped of oxygen. Thancred still stands, rushes forward with blade in-hand, but Stephen cannot see the result. The memory goes black, slamming him back into reality.
He gasps, palms flat against the ground, having nigh fallen somewhere in-between it all. Eyes wide and searching, he lifts his head back up to reorient himself, seeing only Thancred in a similar position.]
Wellβ that wasβ [Sarcasm exudes itself in spades when he has nothing else to grasp onto. Give him a moment.] βpleasant.