#anyways. i want to put cicero in an air fryer. maybe it'd fix him

[throughtrialbyfire]

i will never be normal abt cicero this is a promise. 8 years in a basement waiting for a voice that never comes. 8 years alone with nothing but cobwebs and a corpse you have to tend both on religious and practical levels. a duty solemn and sworn to people who are now dead - your only family - and a god whose existence is older than that of the gods most often worshiped. survivor of two sanctuaries destroyed or otherwise nonfunctional. a newcomer hears the voice you've been straining to hear for almost a decade. the self-doubt and the grief and the "why was i not chosen? was i not enough?" and the anger at the night mother smothered by the religious guilt at the anger. being angry and devoted at the same time and fiercely loyal and loving the very entity who passed over you for someone who knows nothing of your brotherhoods ways because they came into it in a sanctuary where all rite ritual and rules were tossed aside. they dont even know the tenets and yet they were chosen but you were loyal all these years and yet, yet, yet, yet. man.