Lancer || Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
croibhristeoir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tvk2012-06-03 07:09 pm
croibhristeoir) wrote in tvk2012-06-03 07:09 pm
Entry tags:
⚔ 027; [text/action]
Neah Walker seems to have left. I have his pet bird, if anyone was concerned.
[He sent the message and stared at his phone for a long time without properly seeing it. Or anything else, for that matter. Diarmuid was so lost in thought that he didn't quite register that if looks could kill, the device in his hand would have a hole burned through it.]
[For all his faith and all he said about things not being so terrible, the pain of separation still hurt as clearly as the lingering occasional ache in his chest. Of the friends he'd made in Prospero, Neah was among those he'd known the longest. They were close friends in a way that Diarmuid rarely shared with anyone, and that was what made it hurt even more. Arturia, Grainne, Issei, Neah...that was more or less the list of his closest friends and loved ones, all gone without a trace.]
[Diarmuid was more than used to pain, emotional or physical. He could withstand it, could reassure and console others during it, and would continue on the best he could. But there was something few people knew about him--something which in recent memory, he'd only ever even hinted at to Arturia.]
[Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, fearless first blade of the Fianna...was terrified of being isolated.]
[Of course, he'd always had friends and allies within reach. He was well-loved in the Fianna, but outside of them? He wasn't very popular with those who thought he'd steal their wives or lovers at a glance, and the empty affection of those under his curse was worse than being left on his own.]
[He was never alone, but he was always lonely. A place like this where he could actually have friends without pushing them away through uncontrollable circumstances...that much made the city like paradise. But the more people left, he felt himself gradually more unsettled and even more lonely than ever before.]
[He dropped the phone and sank into a chair finally, hiding his face in folded arms. There was nothing he could do--there was never anything he could do. He couldn't control the curse back then, couldn't control how many people resented him, couldn't control who Prospero chose to send away or when they did it.]
[For all the strength and skill he possessed, he was utterly helpless. And before he could remind himself that no, he had to remain steady and calm for everyone else's sake? Diarmuid was crying as quietly as possible for the few moments in which no one could see him.]
[He sent the message and stared at his phone for a long time without properly seeing it. Or anything else, for that matter. Diarmuid was so lost in thought that he didn't quite register that if looks could kill, the device in his hand would have a hole burned through it.]
[For all his faith and all he said about things not being so terrible, the pain of separation still hurt as clearly as the lingering occasional ache in his chest. Of the friends he'd made in Prospero, Neah was among those he'd known the longest. They were close friends in a way that Diarmuid rarely shared with anyone, and that was what made it hurt even more. Arturia, Grainne, Issei, Neah...that was more or less the list of his closest friends and loved ones, all gone without a trace.]
[Diarmuid was more than used to pain, emotional or physical. He could withstand it, could reassure and console others during it, and would continue on the best he could. But there was something few people knew about him--something which in recent memory, he'd only ever even hinted at to Arturia.]
[Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, fearless first blade of the Fianna...was terrified of being isolated.]
[Of course, he'd always had friends and allies within reach. He was well-loved in the Fianna, but outside of them? He wasn't very popular with those who thought he'd steal their wives or lovers at a glance, and the empty affection of those under his curse was worse than being left on his own.]
[He was never alone, but he was always lonely. A place like this where he could actually have friends without pushing them away through uncontrollable circumstances...that much made the city like paradise. But the more people left, he felt himself gradually more unsettled and even more lonely than ever before.]
[He dropped the phone and sank into a chair finally, hiding his face in folded arms. There was nothing he could do--there was never anything he could do. He couldn't control the curse back then, couldn't control how many people resented him, couldn't control who Prospero chose to send away or when they did it.]
[For all the strength and skill he possessed, he was utterly helpless. And before he could remind himself that no, he had to remain steady and calm for everyone else's sake? Diarmuid was crying as quietly as possible for the few moments in which no one could see him.]
Text
Text
Text
What about you? If there's anything you need, just ask it of me and I'll do it.
Text
[And another text comes a moment later.]
Though would it be all right if I went to see Marian sometime?
Text
Text
Text
Text
[And in an attempt to lighten things up a bit:]
And don't forget that I still plan to drag you around one day to show you the things people in this era do for fun.
Text