[ they're truly just minding their own business, starting the morning, recovering from - honestly, a terrible weekend. hung texts the public chat to suggest king's game as a group, all of them still left, because, well, they probably desperately need it. some minor distraction. something to bring them together.
but, now - this. he watches the memory play out in the panels, shocked into stillness at the desperation in it all. the bloodshed. the single gutpunch that nearly takes him out right away at the love for a father, the love from a father, the loss of one.
it's hard to not feel anxious for jolyne by the end of it, and he lowers a hand to curl around one of her fists. the same as before - your heart is a muscle the size of your fist, trying to coax it open. trying, really, to reassure himself that it's all there. that it's not unraveled. ]
no subject
but, now - this. he watches the memory play out in the panels, shocked into stillness at the desperation in it all. the bloodshed. the single gutpunch that nearly takes him out right away at the love for a father, the love from a father, the loss of one.
it's hard to not feel anxious for jolyne by the end of it, and he lowers a hand to curl around one of her fists. the same as before - your heart is a muscle the size of your fist, trying to coax it open. trying, really, to reassure himself that it's all there. that it's not unraveled. ]