Date: 7 Jul 2025 22:36 (UTC)
themorbidsocialite: The Morbid Socialite with a serious and deadpan expression. (serious)
Dr. Malodrema barely moved, only really shifting to avoid pain. His voice was distant, detached, and even dropped the posh accent into the much more real Northern. "You know, I simply don't understand it. I don't, genuinely. I have spent years agonizing over every little detail, making sure I knew the rules, knew the language, knew everything I could about talking with others. I became an expert at it, able to weave words into exactly what I wanted to convey in a way everyone else could understand. We were all following the rules, I simply needed more time to learn it. But fine. Yes, we can drop the niceties. They weren't serving me anyway. Allow me to tell you honestly, truly, that I am fine. I am a grown man who can handle my own messes, my own injuries, my own hubris.

"If I am going to destroy my life, my mind, my body, then don't I reserve the right to do it on my own terms? Am I not a free man? I am fine because I say I am fine. Do as you wish, but I am going home and that is my final choice."

He was teetering. There was no way he was going home. Not in his condition. To do so would be imminent death and also a risk to the materials in the bag. There was no choice but to argue this out.
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themorbidsocialite: Monochrome image in sepia tone, the Morbid Socialite accepting honey and attention from faceless courtesans, clothes disheveled and face relaxed and grinning. (Default)
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