(I’m definitely gonna be offline when this starts. Sadness)
(this was surprisingly hard to size in a way i felt worked for a forum pfp, but it looks great)
alyx makes happy noises, for reasons they are unable to comprehend
“nya~”
“…what I’m making of it? What- what I’m making of it right now is…” she cuts off, mouth open in a wordless scream.
She can barely speak, barely talk, and all Matilda knows is the pain she’s so familiar with rushing back all at once. Shaken from the onset, it’s all she can do to even stay conscious.
Areténa frowns.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they’re taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time 'twas hanging for the colour that it is;
Though hanging isn’t bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable colour of his hair.
Oh a deal of pains he’s taken and a pretty price he’s paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they’ve pulled the beggar’s hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they’re haling him to justice for the colour of his hair.
Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labour in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the colour of his hair.
[source]
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“It’s about the trial of Oscar Wilde. The poet had to speak in metaphors because just saying what he wanted to outright would have been unacceptable.”
alyx sits down next to [trochi], and frowns, speaking softly
“hey… how you… holding up?”
Matilda is so dizzy from the pain she can barely comprehend the figure of Alyx beside her. Turning her head woozily toward the source of the noise, she tries to blink away the fog inside her brain.
“…Alyx?”
alyx starts snapping their fingers in [trochis] face, growing concerned at his state/wounds “hey… yeah, it’s me…” alyx sighs “i really think you should heal those wounds soon, you don’t look okay… nya”
Self injury is not a great way to leave reminders. Did you perhaps take a keepsake from Alex’s dorm? That might help you way more.
“no, that’s…that’s stupid.” alyx slaps [trochi], struggling to hold back their tears
“y-you can re-remember her in… more produc-ductive ways… don’t…” alyx starts crying in [trochis] shoulder
“What- what better way to carry something with you…than to have it forever branded on your skin?”
But Alex would have wanted you to be safe! Self harm isn’t safe at all… Please, for the sake of everyone, use another method of rememberance. Maybe there might be some nanotech you can take as a keepsake…
“You…you learn to look at pain differently when you can take it away with a touch. Nothing- nothing is permanent for me. It’s okay to lose yourself in it for awhile…because I know I can fix it just as quickly.”