Phil Connors (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goodweather) wrote2024-07-15 03:12 am
goodweather) wrote2024-07-15 03:12 am
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MESSAGE ☀ DELIVERY ❄ ACTION
address: 499 Winter's Avenue (northwest hollow, farmland)
MESSAGE ☀ DELIVERY ❄ ACTION
address: 499 Winter's Avenue (northwest hollow, farmland)
no subject
"...sometimes it doesn't feel like I even have years," comes out quietly, not so much an admission of anything but as a statement of fact. She's only made it to 19, and will only make it to 20, because she was stolen away from her world before the worst could happen. Even if she survived to escape the Ever After, the war against Salem rages on and the whole world could end before she should've turned 18. "I guess maybe here."
cw suicide talk
"Man, do I know how that feels," he says, very quietly. It feels a little like a gunshot in a space this quiet. "I first felt that when I was younger than you are."
...
"You feel real tired sometimes, huh? More tired than you ever thought someone could be."
There are words on his tongue to follow that he doesn't quite let out: and it's not that you want to die, really, but you wish you could just stop.
cw suicide talk
There's quiet, for a moment, before, "...yeah. It doesn't feel like it should even be possible to be so tired."
It started out as just telling herself that taking risks with her own life was worth it if it meant saving other lives. That that's what heroes do, put themselves in danger and accept the chance that they might not survive.
And then the risks kept getting bigger, and bigger—more reckless, more pointless. Until even that thin veil of deniability fell away and there was just Ruby, the ghosts of the dead, and the tea. The ability to stop existing, right at her fingertips.