[ he is not the right cotc for this alas so he just think she's got (looks at smudged writing on hand) the plague
anyway no, he agrees, boothill is correct! this is deeply worrying, and the exhaustion gets a sympathetic ripple from him, too, his mouth pulling downwards into a worried frown before he clears it and trades for a little, reassuring smile instead. rondo comes and squats down beside her, reaching for her hand. ]
Here... come on. [ to try and tug her arm over his shoulder? let him help. ] I can help you get back to bed.
[ oof. there's a little wince when she leans against a burned spot, but otherwise, rondo takes her weight easily - his arm wraps around her waist to stabilize her a little more, too, and then they can start making their way to the apartments. slowly, but no less steadily for it.
as for the question... there's a little blip of worry, something thoughtful as he thinks about his thursday. ]
...No, I don't think so. I made the rounds to check in on everyone after you all returned, and then I spent the rest of the night with Marina. [ a blip of confusion, now, too. ] Why do you ask...?
[she goes wherever he takes her. cannot stress how little of a fuck she gives about anything other than trying to not throw up, at the moment. whew.
silence, for a moment, as they go.]
When I went into the hotel, you were in one of the rooms. And I got you killed again. [...] But I went back for you. And it collapsed on me. The room, I mean, it caved in, and I think my heart exploded.
[ an illusion... not unlike what he saw today, then.
rondo's emotions do something funny - there's an immediate sense of dissonance and dislike, as she describes, worry for her safety and sadness at the idea of her dying, again, and - there's guilt, too, wound like a thread, mixed up with something more thoughtful, something quietly sad.
there's no changing the past. ]
... There isn't. [ he murmurs, quietly. ] Only the future that forges ahead.
[ ... ]
You didn't... [ you should have taken care of yourself? you should have kept going? whatever it was - well, he knows its just not that easy, nor would he have done anything different in her shoes, but...
he looks down at his feet, and keeps the moving forward, step by step. ]
I'm sorry that you had to experience that, again. [ and... sorry for dying, too. again. ] I'm sure it wasn't your fault, nor would I hold it against you.
[she's quiet again, kind of just... working through this? there's something about what happened, about the hotel entity as boothill, as astarion, as essek, crouched in front of her, telling her there's no changing the past. she held rondo's body and was in her right mind, and nothing changed.
forward, forward.]
I know you wouldn't. But I wish you would.
[she says, finally, looking at him.]
I wish you'd be a little mad for killing you. I took you from people who love you. It wasn't me, but it still happened. Feels fucked up to just gloss over it like I didn't beat you to death and throw you in the fire and stab you to fucking death with your own sword.
[ he doesn't stop or hesitate. (not this time, at least.) but, his emotions betray him like they always do - a murmur of guilt, again, of something that touches on the edges of self loathing that ripples between them. hearing karlach lay out the details in plain sight is a lot, and he watched his own body examination, last week.
it's just such a reminder. she did do all of those things. but he didn't stop her, did he? she wasn't in control of herself. she was miserable. she was suffering. and what did rondo do? he hesitated. he let her suffer for an extra day because he couldn't find the strength to stop her. just like he couldn't stop sazantos from stealing his flame, in the end. a pointless struggle that ended in his world going dark.
rondo's eyes stay down. ]
...You also helped me out. [ of the fire. he remembers that, vividly. he remembers the pain, he remembers dragging himself, and then karlach's hands, helping him free after it all. ] I'd rather think about that than the rest.
I don't really have anything to be mad about, anyway. That I could die at any moment has always been a part of my life - I was living on borrowed time, and I'm still lucky enough to walk today.
[there's like, a brief little flutter of frustration, and then:]
Care about yourself more.
[or, no, maybe more like:]
Fucking - believe in yourself more. I don't know why the fuck you think you'd have been able to stop me anyway. Not like anybody has stopped the monsters from killing them. Famine got his ass kicked by a twelve year old.
[ that hits the nail on the head! man. self worth. who has that.
he opens his mouth briefly, and closes it - emotions just going haywire on his side, too. that same twisting, guilty feeling of self loathing. you never would have been able to stop me, anyway. no, he wouldn't have, would he? he never would have been able to stop her. he never, ever would have been strong enough. it's not bad, rondo. it's not bad, but it's not good enough. ]
[ quietly, protesting as she drops the last comment - ] That's different.
[ famine looks like he would blow over in a stiff breeze ok
but the thing is, rondo has to be strong enough. he has to be. that's what his entire life has been about, and like so many other times - he just wasn't.
apparently that's all he really has to say about it, though. the bad feelings, exacerbated by his own breakin, swirl like thick fog, and he shuts his mouth, doggedly heading for the apartments. ]
[okay, well, here's the thing, sick or not, she's had it with this!! so they keep moving, and she stops him.
or, she tries. what she tries to do is wriggle free, and then knock him into a wall so she can yell at him, but she feels like shit, so what she actually does is probably just pull free and collapse. oops.
[ i was watching you roll like i wonder if this is for me and i was right
anyway, he is not expecting the sudden counterbalance in weight, and then he looks at her, and then she's falling. ]
-- Karlach!? [ OH GOD WHY IS SHE DYING?! he doesn't even realize she was gonna be a badass he just thinks she's dying again. he immediately drops to one knee next to her, hands fluttering worriedly as he tries to decide what to actually do to help or what's wrong. ] Hey, hey, take it easy...
she just sits there for a minute and tries to not throw up, because these cyoa effects are really kicking her ass. not that he knows what happened to her or anything but christ.]
It's not different. I can't - Rondo, I can't with this.
[ no!!! he does not because no one has told me anything about it!!
...ah. his emotions static, going twenty different places - regret and worry, sorrow, guilt, and he opens his mouth, and closes it. works his jaw for a second. way to go, genius. ]
... You don't have to do anything... [ rondo says, finally, though it feels futile. of course not - it's like essek said, that the past is just the past. his hands finally settle, one coming to her back to rub it gently. his weakness is everyone's problem, but it's his problem, the most. ] Take a deep breath.
I - why would I get mad at you? It's not even - you didn't want to do it.
[ his own emotions are distressed, in response, peaking a little at her anxiety and desperation, because he would love to stop it, would love to help it, but - that just feels wrong, to be angry at karlach. karlach, who was trying so desperately to fight it off the entire time. karlach, upset and stressed right now, trying to fix something.
he rubs her back still, biting down on his lip. ]
If I were angry, that wouldn't make anything better for anyone. [ it's a pointless waste of time, the kind of thing that the accursed flame would thrive under, and rondo - doesn't. he just doesn't feel that way. all of his emotions about last thursday are directed solely at himself. ] You don't deserve punishment for something that was out of your control. The only thing at fault is the cult, truly.
[ and the fact that he was too weak to fight her off, but, you know. ]
It doesn't make it any better that you're punishing yourself.
[she says, because she can feel his emotions, and because he's said it, without saying it, and she's tired and wildly, horribly upset, because it's twice, that she's seen his body. by the pyre, in the hotel. and both times it was her fault.]
It makes it worse, even. I can't - get past this. I killed everybody on Thursday, I killed Iwatooshi and Aqua and Lucas and Aerith and Suguru, I killed Izutsumi, I killed Boots, and then I fucking came back and killed you, again.
I can't just get off free. There has to be something. It can't just be someone else's fault, I can't - work with that.
[ he's maybe the wrong person for this kind of thing, because he thinks the same way that she does, or - maybe he's the right person for it? who knows. he's silent for a moment, flinching when she says it makes it worse, emotions curling in on themselves in sorrow and empathetic heartbreak for her. ]
I don't - [ a little flitter of something - frustration, maybe, but it's not even directed at her or even really at himself, he can't help her because he can't force himself to feel something he just doesn't, especially not something as poisonous as that. ] -- There's not always a fair target to swing at.
[ because that's how the world works. that's what sazantos taught him, too. it's not always noble swordfights. sometimes people fight dirty. the world never wraps its stories so neatly with a bow. there are always gray areas, and this just has to be one of those. ]
You're trying to put yourself as the villain for actions that you're forced to take. [ whether by monster or by the adventures, though he doesn't know the story of hers, rondo can guess. he's killed sazantos twice, now - though when given the choice, he didn't kill himself, because he had that alternative path. ] And I don't want to see you that way, Karlach, I'm sorry. I can't, and I won't.
[ the idea makes him a little sick, actually. it's too familiar. ]
You wouldn't ask this of the other people who were taken over by their monster, so why are you so cruel to yourself? [ a beat. ] Not to mention, you - you died, why is that not enough? And you suffered for days, stuck like that, you - haven't you suffered enough? Why does it have to be equal? I don't - I don't want it to be.
[a little burst of something like despair, maybe.]
Yeah, I do fucking want it to be equal - I don't want to look at you and know that you think you failed to stop me because you don't have any confidence in yourself. I don't care about the rest of it.
[being angry at her is the only thing she can think of to redirect it. if he's angry at her, he won't be angry at himself. that's how it works.
keep your loved ones safe. redirect aggro. i will weather these blows so you must not.]
It wasn't your fucking job to stop me. And you shouldn't forgive me so easy. You should be upset. You died. It hurt. It hurt people, it hurt you. You suffered.
[ this is what happens when you have two tanks in the same room!
redirect aggro. i will weather these blows so you must not. he doesn't bend to this either, matching with stubborness. ]
And you were forced to kill someone, and then had to sit with the feeling of something else taking over your heart and body, for days, and you don't even remember the conversations you said goodbye to people with.
[ and rondo let her suffer, and he will never, ever, ever forgive himself for it. he just has to get better at hiding it, really - a lesson he's learned, in the past week. perhaps a lesson learned from sazantos, even. that sometimes, maybe it is better to pack those things away.
as she continues, his own emotions frazzle again, desperation and compassion and stubborness. ] You suffered too.
[ ...
(and truthfully, these are the kind of things the accurst flame might whisper. you should be upset. you should be angry. aren't you angry? aren't you hurt? do you want revenge?
and the idea terrifies him. this kind of talk terrifies him. there's a shiver of it in his emotions, fear and familiarity. karlach is trying to provoke him into something he's not, and rondo wouldn't be able to live with himself if he fell for it. he can handle that he's been weak. he's always been weak. but this?)
silence, again, and then, more vulnerably: ]
It's my choice. It's my choice to forgive you for it. You don't have to accept it, but - please don't try to take it from me. [ softer: ] Please.
[it's not really what she wants. she doesn't want people to hide that they're in pain from her for her sake, and it makes something horrible and rotten in her just settle in her chest, but it's not like he's going to listen to her, and he's not going to change his mind.
her emotions just fizzle out into something sick and sad and in pain.]
I know I did. Never said I didn't. [suffer. she knows, she's not arguing that. she does hurt, and she is working her way through it, she's not running from it. it just sucks for her to know that the person she murdered will just blame himself for it, and won't let her fix it.]
[ those feelings are just awful, and his own are just - upset, now, too. something miserable and wet curls up in the back of his throat, and the do what you want makes him visibly flinch. ]
... I'm sorry.
[ is all he has to say, at first, soft, sad, fingers curling where they were resting on her back and... then starting to pull away. he wants to fix it, too. maybe that's the issue. ]
[ well. he turns his face down and away from her, and rubs his wrist across his eyes - crying, now, but maybe that's to be expected. ]
... I'm supposed to be helping you get inside...
[ and rest, she should be resting.... he feels like a little kid, right now, powerless and tiny and unhelpful and just. bad. he does not push the tail away though, or tense or anything like that, just kind of sagging. ]
[ it's so, so many years of this kind of self talk that's hard to put down. years ago, he almost died, and the man who nearly killed him slashed into his chest and said, You should crawl back to whatever palace you came from. You don't have the will to wield a blade. he'd managed to drag himself back to his feet and fight on, but it's never the nice parts of the memories that stick, is it? it's the cruelties, the cutting words that stay with you forever.
it's such a fragile thing, his own sense of self worth. holding the flame in his hands was one of the first times he felt strong enough to stand on his own two feet, to stop relying on others so much, to be worthy. strong of his own merit, strong on his own terms. and then, as sazantos ripped it free, it all amounted to nothing. here, it's much of the same. the cutting cruelty of what about the rest of them? when he'd confessed to saving camille was just another reminder, and to add failing to help karlach on thursday to the pile has left him wrung out, his already low sense of his worth floundering and gasping for air.
despite my incompetence, he always says, i hope i can be useful to you. some habits are hard to kick.
there's a soft, wet noise - a sniffle, and he nods, wiping his eyes. karlach's voice breaking gets him too, and all he can do is nod, once, twice, three times, trying to speak around the lump in his throat. ] Okay.
[ a little relief, in his emotions, something sorrowful and upset and lost, the raw, awful feeling of dropping your heart onto the ground for anyone to see, but maybe something that's a tiny bit like resolve. ] ... I'll try.
[ he can't promise anything better than that, but it's a start. ]
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anyway no, he agrees, boothill is correct! this is deeply worrying, and the exhaustion gets a sympathetic ripple from him, too, his mouth pulling downwards into a worried frown before he clears it and trades for a little, reassuring smile instead. rondo comes and squats down beside her, reaching for her hand. ]
Here... come on. [ to try and tug her arm over his shoulder? let him help. ] I can help you get back to bed.
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Fucking... [she mutters, pissy at herself, knees weak. silence, for a moment, and then:] You - were you in the hotel yesterday? At all?
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as for the question... there's a little blip of worry, something thoughtful as he thinks about his thursday. ]
...No, I don't think so. I made the rounds to check in on everyone after you all returned, and then I spent the rest of the night with Marina. [ a blip of confusion, now, too. ] Why do you ask...?
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silence, for a moment, as they go.]
When I went into the hotel, you were in one of the rooms. And I got you killed again. [...] But I went back for you. And it collapsed on me. The room, I mean, it caved in, and I think my heart exploded.
[... ok]
Essek said there's no changing the past.
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rondo's emotions do something funny - there's an immediate sense of dissonance and dislike, as she describes, worry for her safety and sadness at the idea of her dying, again, and - there's guilt, too, wound like a thread, mixed up with something more thoughtful, something quietly sad.
there's no changing the past. ]
... There isn't. [ he murmurs, quietly. ] Only the future that forges ahead.
[ ... ]
You didn't... [ you should have taken care of yourself? you should have kept going? whatever it was - well, he knows its just not that easy, nor would he have done anything different in her shoes, but...
he looks down at his feet, and keeps the moving forward, step by step. ]
I'm sorry that you had to experience that, again. [ and... sorry for dying, too. again. ] I'm sure it wasn't your fault, nor would I hold it against you.
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forward, forward.]
I know you wouldn't. But I wish you would.
[she says, finally, looking at him.]
I wish you'd be a little mad for killing you. I took you from people who love you. It wasn't me, but it still happened. Feels fucked up to just gloss over it like I didn't beat you to death and throw you in the fire and stab you to fucking death with your own sword.
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it's just such a reminder. she did do all of those things. but he didn't stop her, did he? she wasn't in control of herself. she was miserable. she was suffering. and what did rondo do? he hesitated. he let her suffer for an extra day because he couldn't find the strength to stop her. just like he couldn't stop sazantos from stealing his flame, in the end. a pointless struggle that ended in his world going dark.
rondo's eyes stay down. ]
...You also helped me out. [ of the fire. he remembers that, vividly. he remembers the pain, he remembers dragging himself, and then karlach's hands, helping him free after it all. ] I'd rather think about that than the rest.
I don't really have anything to be mad about, anyway. That I could die at any moment has always been a part of my life - I was living on borrowed time, and I'm still lucky enough to walk today.
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Care about yourself more.
[or, no, maybe more like:]
Fucking - believe in yourself more. I don't know why the fuck you think you'd have been able to stop me anyway. Not like anybody has stopped the monsters from killing them. Famine got his ass kicked by a twelve year old.
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he opens his mouth briefly, and closes it - emotions just going haywire on his side, too. that same twisting, guilty feeling of self loathing. you never would have been able to stop me, anyway. no, he wouldn't have, would he? he never would have been able to stop her. he never, ever would have been strong enough. it's not bad, rondo. it's not bad, but it's not good enough. ]
[ quietly, protesting as she drops the last comment - ] That's different.
[ famine looks like he would blow over in a stiff breeze ok
but the thing is, rondo has to be strong enough. he has to be. that's what his entire life has been about, and like so many other times - he just wasn't.
apparently that's all he really has to say about it, though. the bad feelings, exacerbated by his own breakin, swirl like thick fog, and he shuts his mouth, doggedly heading for the apartments. ]
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or, she tries. what she tries to do is wriggle free, and then knock him into a wall so she can yell at him, but she feels like shit, so what she actually does is probably just pull free and collapse. oops.
hghghgh. dizzy.]
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anyway, he is not expecting the sudden counterbalance in weight, and then he looks at her, and then she's falling. ]
-- Karlach!? [ OH GOD WHY IS SHE DYING?! he doesn't even realize she was gonna be a badass he just thinks she's dying again. he immediately drops to one knee next to her, hands fluttering worriedly as he tries to decide what to actually do to help or what's wrong. ] Hey, hey, take it easy...
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she just sits there for a minute and tries to not throw up, because these cyoa effects are really kicking her ass. not that he knows what happened to her or anything but christ.]
It's not different. I can't - Rondo, I can't with this.
[she says, swallowing hard.]
I don't know what to do.
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...ah. his emotions static, going twenty different places - regret and worry, sorrow, guilt, and he opens his mouth, and closes it. works his jaw for a second. way to go, genius. ]
... You don't have to do anything... [ rondo says, finally, though it feels futile. of course not - it's like essek said, that the past is just the past. his hands finally settle, one coming to her back to rub it gently. his weakness is everyone's problem, but it's his problem, the most. ] Take a deep breath.
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I don't know what else to say to you to make you get that it isn't your fault that I killed you.
[there's a little desperation in there. anxiety.]
It's killing me. Be mad at me, fuck's sake.
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[ his own emotions are distressed, in response, peaking a little at her anxiety and desperation, because he would love to stop it, would love to help it, but - that just feels wrong, to be angry at karlach. karlach, who was trying so desperately to fight it off the entire time. karlach, upset and stressed right now, trying to fix something.
he rubs her back still, biting down on his lip. ]
If I were angry, that wouldn't make anything better for anyone. [ it's a pointless waste of time, the kind of thing that the accursed flame would thrive under, and rondo - doesn't. he just doesn't feel that way. all of his emotions about last thursday are directed solely at himself. ] You don't deserve punishment for something that was out of your control. The only thing at fault is the cult, truly.
[ and the fact that he was too weak to fight her off, but, you know. ]
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[she says, because she can feel his emotions, and because he's said it, without saying it, and she's tired and wildly, horribly upset, because it's twice, that she's seen his body. by the pyre, in the hotel. and both times it was her fault.]
It makes it worse, even. I can't - get past this. I killed everybody on Thursday, I killed Iwatooshi and Aqua and Lucas and Aerith and Suguru, I killed Izutsumi, I killed Boots, and then I fucking came back and killed you, again.
I can't just get off free. There has to be something. It can't just be someone else's fault, I can't - work with that.
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I don't - [ a little flitter of something - frustration, maybe, but it's not even directed at her or even really at himself, he can't help her because he can't force himself to feel something he just doesn't, especially not something as poisonous as that. ] -- There's not always a fair target to swing at.
[ because that's how the world works. that's what sazantos taught him, too. it's not always noble swordfights. sometimes people fight dirty. the world never wraps its stories so neatly with a bow. there are always gray areas, and this just has to be one of those. ]
You're trying to put yourself as the villain for actions that you're forced to take. [ whether by monster or by the adventures, though he doesn't know the story of hers, rondo can guess. he's killed sazantos twice, now - though when given the choice, he didn't kill himself, because he had that alternative path. ] And I don't want to see you that way, Karlach, I'm sorry. I can't, and I won't.
[ the idea makes him a little sick, actually. it's too familiar. ]
You wouldn't ask this of the other people who were taken over by their monster, so why are you so cruel to yourself? [ a beat. ] Not to mention, you - you died, why is that not enough? And you suffered for days, stuck like that, you - haven't you suffered enough? Why does it have to be equal? I don't - I don't want it to be.
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Yeah, I do fucking want it to be equal - I don't want to look at you and know that you think you failed to stop me because you don't have any confidence in yourself. I don't care about the rest of it.
[being angry at her is the only thing she can think of to redirect it. if he's angry at her, he won't be angry at himself. that's how it works.
keep your loved ones safe. redirect aggro. i will weather these blows so you must not.]
It wasn't your fucking job to stop me. And you shouldn't forgive me so easy. You should be upset. You died. It hurt. It hurt people, it hurt you. You suffered.
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redirect aggro. i will weather these blows so you must not. he doesn't bend to this either, matching with stubborness. ]
And you were forced to kill someone, and then had to sit with the feeling of something else taking over your heart and body, for days, and you don't even remember the conversations you said goodbye to people with.
[ and rondo let her suffer, and he will never, ever, ever forgive himself for it. he just has to get better at hiding it, really - a lesson he's learned, in the past week. perhaps a lesson learned from sazantos, even. that sometimes, maybe it is better to pack those things away.
as she continues, his own emotions frazzle again, desperation and compassion and stubborness. ] You suffered too.
[ ...
(and truthfully, these are the kind of things the accurst flame might whisper. you should be upset. you should be angry. aren't you angry? aren't you hurt? do you want revenge?
and the idea terrifies him. this kind of talk terrifies him. there's a shiver of it in his emotions, fear and familiarity. karlach is trying to provoke him into something he's not, and rondo wouldn't be able to live with himself if he fell for it. he can handle that he's been weak. he's always been weak. but this?)
silence, again, and then, more vulnerably: ]
It's my choice. It's my choice to forgive you for it. You don't have to accept it, but - please don't try to take it from me. [ softer: ] Please.
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her emotions just fizzle out into something sick and sad and in pain.]
I know I did. Never said I didn't. [suffer. she knows, she's not arguing that. she does hurt, and she is working her way through it, she's not running from it. it just sucks for her to know that the person she murdered will just blame himself for it, and won't let her fix it.]
I'm not taking it from you. Do what you want.
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... I'm sorry.
[ is all he has to say, at first, soft, sad, fingers curling where they were resting on her back and... then starting to pull away. he wants to fix it, too. maybe that's the issue. ]
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Don't be. [her tail comes and wraps around his ankle.] I'm not getting it through to you, I don't feel good.
[she's going through crazy cultist drug withdrawals, her everything is haywire.]
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... I'm supposed to be helping you get inside...
[ and rest, she should be resting.... he feels like a little kid, right now, powerless and tiny and unhelpful and just. bad. he does not push the tail away though, or tense or anything like that, just kind of sagging. ]
... I just want to set things right.
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she doesn't get up, doesn't really have any interest in it. the nausea is real bad.]
You don't have to be mad at me. [she says, finally, voice thick.] Just don't be mad at yourself.
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it's such a fragile thing, his own sense of self worth. holding the flame in his hands was one of the first times he felt strong enough to stand on his own two feet, to stop relying on others so much, to be worthy. strong of his own merit, strong on his own terms. and then, as sazantos ripped it free, it all amounted to nothing. here, it's much of the same. the cutting cruelty of what about the rest of them? when he'd confessed to saving camille was just another reminder, and to add failing to help karlach on thursday to the pile has left him wrung out, his already low sense of his worth floundering and gasping for air.
despite my incompetence, he always says, i hope i can be useful to you. some habits are hard to kick.
there's a soft, wet noise - a sniffle, and he nods, wiping his eyes. karlach's voice breaking gets him too, and all he can do is nod, once, twice, three times, trying to speak around the lump in his throat. ] Okay.
[ a little relief, in his emotions, something sorrowful and upset and lost, the raw, awful feeling of dropping your heart onto the ground for anyone to see, but maybe something that's a tiny bit like resolve. ] ... I'll try.
[ he can't promise anything better than that, but it's a start. ]
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