[he sounds horrified, but-- it's not him. it's not at him. rynlan doesn't step away, shifting to hold on to him in turn and wrap his own arms around bixing, quiet for a minute as all of that sinks in.
it's... honestly, it was hard to watch, it made him visibly flinch in places, and parts of it he can only imagine living through. parts of it, he doesn't have to imagine.]
...it's the hardest thing there is, I think, just to keep living in those circumstances.
[he says it quietly, ears dropped.]
Had eyes on me all the time after he was killed, or I'd have tried, too. I kept begging them to just let me die. Hated them for forcing me to keep going. And I didn't even have half the responsibility you did, I can't imagine--
it's not the first time he's seen his own grief replayed this week, but it never gets any easier. all lu bixing really feels with it is - shame. he doesn't return the hug immediately, arm falling just a little slack before he remembers himself and does so, and when he listens to rynlan talking, it hurts his fragile heart. that he had to go through it too, that he knew what that felt like, but also -
he shakes his head, quietly. ]
It's alright.
[ it's not, really, but that's okay. ] The responsibility of taking care of the Eighth was mine. It... what matters is that I was able to stand.
...I'm sorry, that you had to go through something similar. Even remotely so.
[ haha yeah!!! as it turns out, lu bixing is pretty hard to crack when he wants to put his wall up, and it appears this is one of those things he's got a wall for made of solid steel.
it's just the tiniest bit apologetic, though - like he recognizes what he's doing, and is just continuing to do it. he is both extremely competently aware of his emotions and also extremely competently aware of how easily he puts them into a box and puts them away. ]
For that, I'm more thankful than anything. They say hell is other people, you know? But, I've found the opposite, here. That goes for more than just him, of course, but - well. I'm just glad we're together.
[he gets it. it's why he doesn't bother to press; there are things he prefers to wall off, and he likes bixing well enough to respect what he'd rather keep closed.]
I don't know, in some cases here hell is definitely other people.
[a little amusement in his voice, there, waving it off as he continues.]
...you're not wrong, though. It's-- the company isn't at all what I'd have expected.
[ he's going to take this opportunity to order a drink, actually. i'm assuming they're kicked out of the hole and i don't know how that works but he's gonna order a beer... a poison curing beer... not that he's figured that out yet.
I'm starting to wonder. We don't have 'hell', really, but I've been hearing from people who are familiar that this doesn't exactly line up with theirs.
Mmm. It's not, really, short of the part where we're supposed to be suffering. Even most of the 'suffering', beyond the obvious [ the whole. you know. murders and execution and cyoas thing. ] is mostly like minor inconveniences.
[ he seems very glad to talk about theoreticals instead of his memories, actually. what if he just never addresses his grief. ever. ]
By the traditional depiction, I think maybe we're actually in a state of limbo, if we're even dead at all. Why can some people be killed here? Why is there an opportunity that our lives could be restored? If judgement is already passed, then shouldn't that be impossible?
But then what's the point of-- all of this? It isn't like whatever happens here is going to be that different from whatever we did when we were alive...
[by the void. if the things he's done in hell count against him. oh no]
I don't know. Sometimes, I think, things don't have a point. Sometimes, we have to be content to have the questions themselves. It's a frustrating view, but that doesn't change it, either.
[ ugh. he takes a big drink of his Tolerable Beer. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
continued ideation cw
[he sounds horrified, but-- it's not him. it's not at him. rynlan doesn't step away, shifting to hold on to him in turn and wrap his own arms around bixing, quiet for a minute as all of that sinks in.
it's... honestly, it was hard to watch, it made him visibly flinch in places, and parts of it he can only imagine living through. parts of it, he doesn't have to imagine.]
...it's the hardest thing there is, I think, just to keep living in those circumstances.
[he says it quietly, ears dropped.]
Had eyes on me all the time after he was killed, or I'd have tried, too. I kept begging them to just let me die. Hated them for forcing me to keep going. And I didn't even have half the responsibility you did, I can't imagine--
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well.
it's not the first time he's seen his own grief replayed this week, but it never gets any easier. all lu bixing really feels with it is - shame. he doesn't return the hug immediately, arm falling just a little slack before he remembers himself and does so, and when he listens to rynlan talking, it hurts his fragile heart. that he had to go through it too, that he knew what that felt like, but also -
he shakes his head, quietly. ]
It's alright.
[ it's not, really, but that's okay. ] The responsibility of taking care of the Eighth was mine. It... what matters is that I was able to stand.
...I'm sorry, that you had to go through something similar. Even remotely so.
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[his voice is a little firmer, there. he's been through enough to know.]
It's not alright, to have to go through that with so much on your shoulders-- it's not alright for it to have happened at all.
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Well. Even still, Lin's here, now. That's at least half of it solved.
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...he is. You have each other now, at least.
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it's just the tiniest bit apologetic, though - like he recognizes what he's doing, and is just continuing to do it. he is both extremely competently aware of his emotions and also extremely competently aware of how easily he puts them into a box and puts them away. ]
For that, I'm more thankful than anything. They say hell is other people, you know? But, I've found the opposite, here. That goes for more than just him, of course, but - well. I'm just glad we're together.
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I don't know, in some cases here hell is definitely other people.
[a little amusement in his voice, there, waving it off as he continues.]
...you're not wrong, though. It's-- the company isn't at all what I'd have expected.
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anyway. a little dryly: ]
Ever think we're not in hell at all?
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[he's ordering a beer, too.]
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[ he seems very glad to talk about theoreticals instead of his memories, actually. what if he just never addresses his grief. ever. ]
By the traditional depiction, I think maybe we're actually in a state of limbo, if we're even dead at all. Why can some people be killed here? Why is there an opportunity that our lives could be restored? If judgement is already passed, then shouldn't that be impossible?
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[by the void. if the things he's done in hell count against him. oh no]
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[ ugh. he takes a big drink of his Tolerable Beer. ]
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[he's never been good at being content, in general, but. he sighs as he finishes off his own beer, acquiring another one.]