The kick lands soundly, cracking a rib; it sends Daan back, landing on his back in the leaves and flowers, coughing and holding onto his side. Runes start to appear in the air as Daan presses a hand to his side, trying to work on mending the wound with one of his spells.
Really, he can't fault Roland. There was a part of Daan that felt the same when he came upon Elise's body in the basement of the von Dutch estate: after years of toiling through a torturous life and a bloody war, he couldn't even have a family he worked for. A part of him wanted to burn down everything, make everyone feel it. But that's the difference; Daan's empathy's just always won out on top, just enough to weigh out the frustration and anger.
He's never been good at making his issues someone else's problem.
Daan pushes himself up, exhaling.]
Maybe that's our problem. Spending too much time thinking about what they would've wanted...
But what use are corpses, telling us what to do with our lives?
[None of his spells are really meant to be used in the offensive sense. Doctor and all. Still, Daan's never been good at just laying down and dying.
He's always been a survivalist.
Daan slowly steps backwards, watching Roland, making his way toward the table with the assorted tea and respective antidotes.]
Tell me the truth, Roland. I gave you mine, and I've never been very keen on an unfair trade.
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The kick lands soundly, cracking a rib; it sends Daan back, landing on his back in the leaves and flowers, coughing and holding onto his side. Runes start to appear in the air as Daan presses a hand to his side, trying to work on mending the wound with one of his spells.
Really, he can't fault Roland. There was a part of Daan that felt the same when he came upon Elise's body in the basement of the von Dutch estate: after years of toiling through a torturous life and a bloody war, he couldn't even have a family he worked for. A part of him wanted to burn down everything, make everyone feel it. But that's the difference; Daan's empathy's just always won out on top, just enough to weigh out the frustration and anger.
He's never been good at making his issues someone else's problem.
Daan pushes himself up, exhaling.]
Maybe that's our problem. Spending too much time thinking about what they would've wanted...
But what use are corpses, telling us what to do with our lives?
[None of his spells are really meant to be used in the offensive sense. Doctor and all. Still, Daan's never been good at just laying down and dying.
He's always been a survivalist.
Daan slowly steps backwards, watching Roland, making his way toward the table with the assorted tea and respective antidotes.]
Tell me the truth, Roland. I gave you mine, and I've never been very keen on an unfair trade.