By the next morning Guy still isn't comfortable with the whole idea enough to carry it through to the end.
"Just an arm," he says, like that's a sensible compromise. "Just an arm for now because we need to keep our strength up, okay, and it'll re-balance you so you're not all lopsided and silly-looking." His laughter is uncomfortably high-pitched. Signless can't really blame him, he does his best to look understanding rather than unsettled.
This time he almost does scream, probably because the less energy he has the less easy it is to keep his composure, and Guy has to slam a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. Their eyes lock and he realizes with a sickening jolt that he is horribly, horribly pale for this stupid human. What else could explain the lengths to which he's proving he'll go just to keep Guy safe, to give him a chance at maybe surviving, maybe winning?
He wonders if he should tell him, while they're eating, and decides that maybe it's not exactly the perfect moment.
--
When the whistle blows the next morning to signal the start of the factory 'workday' and the intercom tells them that the chemical wave has risen two floors in the night, it becomes starkly apparent that there can be no more beating around the bush.
"It's moving faster than I can go," Signless says, trying to cross his arms authoritatively and failing because he only has one left. "You can't take me with you."
"I could carry you," Guy points out from where he's folding up the blanket and stuffing it in the backpack. He does it with perhaps a little more force than he needs to.
"You couldn't, not fast enough. Please. I'm going to die either way. You'll need all your strength if you're going to outlast the rest of them and I... I want it to be on my terms, at the hands of someone I care about. I wouldn't ask just anyone to do this."
He reaches out and very, very lightly pats Guy on the cheek, just once. Guy's mouth twists, but he sets down the backpack and scoots closer.
"So when trolls die, what do they do about the body?" he asks. Signless is about to be very cross with him for changing the subject when it dawns on him what this question means and he stops, considers.
"Usually they're just left to be eaten by foraging animals." Or to turn into zombies and haunt the daylight hours when all smart trolls are indoors asleep, but he's pretty sure that won't happen here.
This time when Guy laughs it's actually genuine, and it takes a full minute for him to calm down enough that Signless can get him to explain why.
"All this time... you just wanted me to give you a proper burial."
This time is the easiest. Guy handles his knife with the skill of someone who's done this a thousand times, because he has, to creatures with much more dangerous horns and fangs. Signless is too exhausted by this point to make much noise. It would be almost difficult to tell exactly when he dies except that the factory siren blares briefly instead of the usual cannon shot when it happens.
Guy has a feast in his honor.
--
((THERE WE GO ITS DONE I CAN SLEEP KNOWING I'M THE ACTUAL WORST))
CWs continue + death
"Just an arm," he says, like that's a sensible compromise. "Just an arm for now because we need to keep our strength up, okay, and it'll re-balance you so you're not all lopsided and silly-looking." His laughter is uncomfortably high-pitched. Signless can't really blame him, he does his best to look understanding rather than unsettled.
This time he almost does scream, probably because the less energy he has the less easy it is to keep his composure, and Guy has to slam a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. Their eyes lock and he realizes with a sickening jolt that he is horribly, horribly pale for this stupid human. What else could explain the lengths to which he's proving he'll go just to keep Guy safe, to give him a chance at maybe surviving, maybe winning?
He wonders if he should tell him, while they're eating, and decides that maybe it's not exactly the perfect moment.
--
When the whistle blows the next morning to signal the start of the factory 'workday' and the intercom tells them that the chemical wave has risen two floors in the night, it becomes starkly apparent that there can be no more beating around the bush.
"It's moving faster than I can go," Signless says, trying to cross his arms authoritatively and failing because he only has one left. "You can't take me with you."
"I could carry you," Guy points out from where he's folding up the blanket and stuffing it in the backpack. He does it with perhaps a little more force than he needs to.
"You couldn't, not fast enough. Please. I'm going to die either way. You'll need all your strength if you're going to outlast the rest of them and I... I want it to be on my terms, at the hands of someone I care about. I wouldn't ask just anyone to do this."
He reaches out and very, very lightly pats Guy on the cheek, just once. Guy's mouth twists, but he sets down the backpack and scoots closer.
"So when trolls die, what do they do about the body?" he asks. Signless is about to be very cross with him for changing the subject when it dawns on him what this question means and he stops, considers.
"Usually they're just left to be eaten by foraging animals." Or to turn into zombies and haunt the daylight hours when all smart trolls are indoors asleep, but he's pretty sure that won't happen here.
This time when Guy laughs it's actually genuine, and it takes a full minute for him to calm down enough that Signless can get him to explain why.
"All this time... you just wanted me to give you a proper burial."
This time is the easiest. Guy handles his knife with the skill of someone who's done this a thousand times, because he has, to creatures with much more dangerous horns and fangs. Signless is too exhausted by this point to make much noise. It would be almost difficult to tell exactly when he dies except that the factory siren blares briefly instead of the usual cannon shot when it happens.
Guy has a feast in his honor.
--
((THERE WE GO ITS DONE I CAN SLEEP KNOWING I'M THE ACTUAL WORST))