[If that sounds like anger, it's because it is. Very muted, trying and trying not to give it a chance to truly come out because he doesn't want to fall. The Batter wanted to remain the way he was, a puppet made for one reason and was then put to rest.
He wanted permanence. A final end. Needles in his ears, eyes hollowed out and knives jammed down his throat. Someone to cut off his legs and arms and leave him to hang. Exist in oblivion, forgotten and allowed to sleep for once in his life. He was done, he was done, he was done!
But no. Another day. Continue. Again and again.]
I can't exist as anything else. I can't.
[It's a fool's errand Zacharie. You should have just taken his offer to die at the tip of your blade. It would have been easier.
Because, as always...]
I can't escape. It won't let me. I won't let me. Escaping from your purpose is impossible.
[Because what kind of person digs and finds that in the center of the world? The Batter. The King of the Rot.
Myself, in every sense of the word. You have no idea what he looks like to himself, do you Zacharie? Because the Batter certainly does.
And the Judge's judgement was one thing to hear. His own, on the other hand? Is so much worse.]
[cw for some disturbing imagery]
[If that sounds like anger, it's because it is. Very muted, trying and trying not to give it a chance to truly come out because he doesn't want to fall. The Batter wanted to remain the way he was, a puppet made for one reason and was then put to rest.
He wanted permanence. A final end. Needles in his ears, eyes hollowed out and knives jammed down his throat. Someone to cut off his legs and arms and leave him to hang. Exist in oblivion, forgotten and allowed to sleep for once in his life. He was done, he was done, he was done!
But no. Another day. Continue. Again and again.]
I can't exist as anything else. I can't.
[It's a fool's errand Zacharie. You should have just taken his offer to die at the tip of your blade. It would have been easier.
Because, as always...]
I can't escape. It won't let me. I won't let me. Escaping from your purpose is impossible.
[Because what kind of person digs and finds that in the center of the world? The Batter. The King of the Rot.
Myself, in every sense of the word. You have no idea what he looks like to himself, do you Zacharie? Because the Batter certainly does.
And the Judge's judgement was one thing to hear. His own, on the other hand? Is so much worse.]