#⋇ THE FORMLESS GRIEF OF THE BODY WHOSE LANGUAGE IS HUNGER: DEAD BY DAYLIGHT

[lunarscaled]

tag drop part 2

[lunarscaled]

-> There was nothing wrong with it if you asked them---using open space like armor. It was lighter and not nearly as noisy, and it was to be found in abundance anywhere that was intimidating enough to keep most common-sense people out, save for perhaps some overly enthusiastic teenagers that wanted to prove themselves in a test of courage. Lyric kept themselves in layers of it much the same way they wrapped all their limbs around themselves now, their necrotic insides untouchable by anyone, even Christoph ( though they're sure he wouldn't want to be sticking his hands in that. he had a gut for things more grotesque than them for certain, but they think even he would draw the line at rooting around in your friend's organs, unless they did something that really pissed him off. ) Their offhanded comment was the wrong thing to say. They can feel the way a muscle in his hand on the back of their neck twitches tense in irritation ( Lyric would accept a profound amount of terrible treatment towards themselves that Christoph would not. they approached such indiscretion with very different tactics; Lyric was sure if they kept their head down and played dead long enough, whatever was chewing them up would get bored. Christoph... they think Christoph would fight probably anything if it made him mad enough. that included other people, aaaand other people who were cruel to Lyric. Even if they were running for their lives. Even if they were only scared, too. ) before he has even disengaged himself, deep breath in and look-away.

Their head is cradled on their forearms between their knees. They do not miss the attempt at a comforting look from him, even if it doesn't last long. Of everyone here, he was the only one Lyric felt they could trust.

"Don't hit yourself. You'll scratch your eye or something."

-> A moment to set aside their despondency and grief, something in their chest twists gently when he approaches their sorrow with a delicacy: he keeps his voice in check because they flinch when he yells ( and when someone screams. it's the worst part, in their opinion, having to listen to someone shriek the whole time. underneath their humanity and mercy, something hisses at them to just shut the fuck up and die already ); he keeps his touches steady around their shoulders and does not take space or contact where it is not openly given; he tries to console them, above all else, because Lyric is the one having the harder adjustment here. They supposed it was better than being on the other end of the hook, but... they couldn't take to it. They were good at it and had no pride in that fact ( people were predictable, so of course they were. you only needed to know the chances of someone running away or the first place to hide to catch them in a corner. ) If Christoph didn't help them, they're sure the entity would have made them into a husk by now. An exhale, soothed and amused by his words, leads into the smallest impression of a smile when he mirrors their curled-up shape.

"... Do you never worry we're doing the wrong thing? I know there isn't a lot of choice, but... I think I can't help giving people the benefit of the doubt. I would be scared, if I was them."

-> They flinch a little, their posture ticking up a notch straighter at the clap on the back. Lyric gives a heavy exhale they hadn't realized they'd been holding. Peptalks did help, it seemed.

"No way, you sound totally ragged--- Probably cause you always try to talk to them when they're running around. After awhile you just start yelling and it freaks them out. Uh, but then they're so focused on avoiding you... it makes them easier for me to approach them because they aren't listening."

@mortul moved from X.