A ripple of humourless laughter passes through the link before Asch can squelch it, his fingers curling, nails digging into his skin, leaving dark red trails in their wake. Oh, he very much doubts that's how Guy feels- for his part of it, anyway. Truth be told, he'll be surprised if Guy felt anything at all over killing him. It's what he wanted, wasn't it? It what all the glares, the resentment, the mistrust was for. He's still a Fabre, even if no longer in name. He's a Fabre in a way that Luke, apparently, will never be.
It hurts. It hurts. But he pushes it away, stubbornly, fiercely, and beneath that hurt is the quiet belief that it's better this way. It's better that it was me. And he doesn't care if Luke disagrees. Things would be very different if their positions had been reversed, if Luke had died to save Asch. Of that, he is unbelievably certain.]
...It doesn't matter.
[His thoughts finally form into words, with considerable effort, before spilling back into the link again when his throat constricts. It's okay. It's okay. I'm glad it was me.
He's not, but he is. It could have been much, much worse. At least with his death the overall damage was... minimal.]
[action]
A ripple of humourless laughter passes through the link before Asch can squelch it, his fingers curling, nails digging into his skin, leaving dark red trails in their wake. Oh, he very much doubts that's how Guy feels- for his part of it, anyway. Truth be told, he'll be surprised if Guy felt anything at all over killing him. It's what he wanted, wasn't it? It what all the glares, the resentment, the mistrust was for. He's still a Fabre, even if no longer in name. He's a Fabre in a way that Luke, apparently, will never be.
It hurts. It hurts. But he pushes it away, stubbornly, fiercely, and beneath that hurt is the quiet belief that it's better this way. It's better that it was me. And he doesn't care if Luke disagrees. Things would be very different if their positions had been reversed, if Luke had died to save Asch. Of that, he is unbelievably certain.]
...It doesn't matter.
[His thoughts finally form into words, with considerable effort, before spilling back into the link again when his throat constricts. It's okay. It's okay. I'm glad it was me.
He's not, but he is. It could have been much, much worse. At least with his death the overall damage was... minimal.]