[ this can't be mercy anymore when rochalรญzo has been poisoned, kaeya knows this... this is no longer viable, but as he catches xie lian's gaze, his lips parted a moment to take a breath, he feels it--blinding pain like that night in the rain, fire and loss, torn muscle and flesh cleaved apart, flayed alive and cauterized. insult to injury to injury. kaeya reels back and hits the snow hard, blood in a sharp, fresh gush on the ground. the sounds that leaves him is gutted, it hurts, but it mirrors back all the same.
he's mouthing something into the air, but there's no sound, just soft clouds of white breath.
he gets to his hands and knees, seeing rochalรญzo fight his way to the sword. polaris... polaris is a stone white guardian beside it, even if philia continues to fight at him. he won't fight back now in this moment, the cold tundra air ruffling his feathers. kaeya just clutches his shoulder. the pain radiating outwards as he tries to dig his heels in the snow.
don't let him suffer.
he digs his elbow into the snow, more blood as he lifts himself up. he slowly gets to his feet, dripping downwards as he looks at him, takes a step forward.
but the pace is barely-hearted.
his shoulders drop, and his head lifts. no pain compares to this. to the numbness crawling up his fingers, to the others watching onwards. he moves forward, one step after the other. ]
Rochalรญzo.
[ his singular eye says one thing: i can't do this. he's been in his head, wound up so tightly around his emotions and impulses, this? this is... impossible.
no subject
he's mouthing something into the air, but there's no sound, just soft clouds of white breath.
he gets to his hands and knees, seeing rochalรญzo fight his way to the sword. polaris... polaris is a stone white guardian beside it, even if philia continues to fight at him. he won't fight back now in this moment, the cold tundra air ruffling his feathers. kaeya just clutches his shoulder. the pain radiating outwards as he tries to dig his heels in the snow.
don't let him suffer.
he digs his elbow into the snow, more blood as he lifts himself up. he slowly gets to his feet, dripping downwards as he looks at him, takes a step forward.
but the pace is barely-hearted.
his shoulders drop, and his head lifts. no pain compares to this. to the numbness crawling up his fingers, to the others watching onwards. he moves forward, one step after the other. ]
Rochalรญzo.
[ his singular eye says one thing: i can't do this. he's been in his head, wound up so tightly around his emotions and impulses, this? this is... impossible.
this is from sheba.
green tea.
oh, enough of this martyr talk!
he swallows tightly. ]
Fine.
[ this. this will hurt. ]