twominutes: (029)
fizzarolli. ([personal profile] twominutes) wrote in [community profile] heckinooc 2024-04-14 10:02 am (UTC)

[ the grip on him hurts, feels like with any more pressure his arms might pop right off and then he really would be fully at mammon's mercies. his right arm sparks at that juncture, in fact, so close to the joint he can feel the jolt of pain from that too.

Every ounce, every drop of freedom that fizz ever felt after quitting is pouring out of him and he wants to sink into the ground, to disappear forever, and every word mammon says makes it worse and worse. he's not surprised mammon won't even let him rest while he's dead, but it still stings.

he doesn't say anything at all because his breathing is catching over and over, speeding up, dragging him right into a full-blown panic attack—until mammon says what d'ya say and it stops abruptly as something in him snaps.

his breathing evens out, he squares his shoulders, and he tilts his head, a faint jingle from his hat a harbinger for what comes next. in fact, he even sneers. ]


No.

[ that's it. just the one word.

what's mammon gonna do, kill him again? and if so, sure! people don't stay dead here, and even dying (over and over, probably) is preferable to what mammon is suggesting.

so he stands his ground. ]

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