[It's jarring, perhaps, how different Kronid looks where he stands frozen. With the smirking, slinking, seductive facade stripped away by the firelight, he looks...almost frail. Tired.
Broken.
The robed man lets out a trembling sigh of relief when Vicious turns towards him. He's fighting a war with his own emotions, too - one that he loses just enough for there to be an obvious shake to his voice.
Help. Real help. The darker part of him calls this man a Knight...right now, he feels as though he's filling that role in earnest. Resolute, willing... beautiful. So ready to rush to the rescue, and without even realizing that he's saving more than the crooked King he knows. That he's standing at the foot of a tower, and that there's someone waiting locked inside.
Through the haze, it seems as though the man smiles a little.]
Mulțumesc. Thank you. So much.
He...he thinks he's beyond all this. But he isn't. He's had to learn to be cavalier, and that isn't the same thing as being all right. He hides, and the wounds fester.
But...you have come the closest to seeing the truth. He's LET you the closest. I think...that he wants you to know.
[The landscape shudders. The chain yanks the man a step back, and he falls onto the step. A song can be heard on the wind through the trees, a tune Vicious would remember better accompanied by the percussion of snapping bone and wrenching flesh.
The robed man sits up, anxious. Kronid is fighting him, but he has a grip. He still has a grip.]
You've already cracked the dam. Now you need to break it. For his sake.
When you wake...look under the bed. Tucked up into the frame, under the upper right foot. Look there, and you will know that I'm - that this isn't just a dream.
Please. I need you. He needs you.
[The man reaches to his chest, to the beaded length of the crucifix around his neck. His fingers pluck at it, clacking the beads together in an idle rhythm.
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Date: 2023-03-23 07:12 am (UTC)Broken.
The robed man lets out a trembling sigh of relief when Vicious turns towards him. He's fighting a war with his own emotions, too - one that he loses just enough for there to be an obvious shake to his voice.
Help. Real help. The darker part of him calls this man a Knight...right now, he feels as though he's filling that role in earnest. Resolute, willing... beautiful. So ready to rush to the rescue, and without even realizing that he's saving more than the crooked King he knows. That he's standing at the foot of a tower, and that there's someone waiting locked inside.
Through the haze, it seems as though the man smiles a little.]
Mulțumesc. Thank you. So much.
He...he thinks he's beyond all this. But he isn't. He's had to learn to be cavalier, and that isn't the same thing as being all right. He hides, and the wounds fester.
But...you have come the closest to seeing the truth. He's LET you the closest. I think...that he wants you to know.
[The landscape shudders. The chain yanks the man a step back, and he falls onto the step. A song can be heard on the wind through the trees, a tune Vicious would remember better accompanied by the percussion of snapping bone and wrenching flesh.
The robed man sits up, anxious. Kronid is fighting him, but he has a grip. He still has a grip.]
You've already cracked the dam. Now you need to break it. For his sake.
When you wake...look under the bed. Tucked up into the frame, under the upper right foot. Look there, and you will know that I'm - that this isn't just a dream.
Please. I need you. He needs you.
[The man reaches to his chest, to the beaded length of the crucifix around his neck. His fingers pluck at it, clacking the beads together in an idle rhythm.
A familiar mannerism.]
Promise me.