[ he stays for a second more, maybe two, before he lets go. Sways back onto his heels and then, slowly, miraculously, back to his feet. His body groans and grumbles and complains in protest; he tells it very firmly to suck it up and shove off. ]
Go back to the house.
[ he tries to soften it, but his throat makes the words catch, come out gravel and sandpaper. It makes him thankful for the night that hides the worst of the veritable deathmask that is his face. ]
[but his teeth snap on it, tear it apart before it can get out, that naked vulnerability too easily preyed on (besides, what difference does it make? you'll still be you when you get there)]
[Badou wipes an oozing arm on his shirt, picks a direction -- it isn't the way he came -- and starts to walk off]
[ he could go after badou, chase him, bodily haul him back to 1470 and toushirou and carol or he could take him back to heart-attack manor and pray the world didn't implode from the force of two different monsters in the same general space.
he could, and he doesn't. tired and weary and smarting every which way, he limps back to the car.
the first time in a decade he feels closest to defeat. ]
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Re: action
Go back to the house.
[ he tries to soften it, but his throat makes the words catch, come out gravel and sandpaper. It makes him thankful for the night that hides the worst of the veritable deathmask that is his face. ]
Don't tell Carol.
Re: action
Re: action
[Badou wipes an oozing arm on his shirt, picks a direction -- it isn't the way he came -- and starts to walk off]
Re: action
he could, and he doesn't. tired and weary and smarting every which way, he limps back to the car.
the first time in a decade he feels closest to defeat. ]