[The moment Sakyou turns, Mandricardo's teeth grit together - and he's launching himself forward to grasp the back of the other's collar. He isn't going to yank him harshly back, but his grip is strong, unable to let go.]
This isn't helping me, idiot! What do ya think I was goin' to say to that? "Oh, right, let me let Sakyou die in the woods. Why not! Makes me feel better!"
[He's still crying, but the tears are burning, as hot as the fire in his look.]
Y'know, I'm scared of failure. I don't like talkin' with people. Maybe it would be fine to be alone forever. But deep down, I'm jealous! I'm so jealous! I just want to be around someone...someone who could see eye to eye with me...don't...don't you want that, too?
[He shakes his head.]
I'd rather hurt with you rather than suffer on my own. I'd rather know suffering with you rather than just wallow in my own failure alone forever. I told you, I'm useless. And I'm useless if I can't do anything for you, as a friend.
[mandricardo truly does not deserve having to deal with this hotass mess and i aki am crying in the club
In any case!! Since he's grabbed Sakyou's collar - which is more of a black turtleneck, given his bizarre get-up - he'll probably be able to see the letters scrawled out across the nape of his neck when Sakyou jerks forward instinctively. They glow in the dimness of the night and simply read: staining. Sakyou is an ink, after all. The sort of person who leaves an indelible, disgusting mark on everything it touches.
He listens though, first, not facing Mandricardo. How terrible. What a terrible thing. They're still similar in so many ways. To want to reach out toward someone who understands, who can see eye to eye... Mandricardo is not Kayo. He's not the same pristine sheet of white paper, just one wrong move away from being tainted due to his selfish, wanting nature. Of the people here who understand his desire for vengeance, Mandricardo had been the first, and the first to not turn him away for it.
And yet, things still happened as they did, back then.
He can't be fucking normal for even five seconds though, because quite suddenly, he whips around to face Mandricardo as best he can, despite the strong grip. It sends pain shooting up both legs, but he has unmatched stoicism and it hardly shows beyond a flinch. Then, with a wordless shout, he just fuckin full-body launches himself at this sweet emotional lad with the full intent to try breaking his grip and knocking him down onto the forest floor.
[Like corruption? Being tainted? Mandricardo stares for a moment at the glowing words, eyebrows furrowed, but wise enough to know this isn't the time to ask. Anyways, now Sakyou should be listening right? Sakyou will let him help him, right...?]
Ah-!
[And suddenly, without warning, Sakyou jumps forward - Mandricardo, shocked, instantly lets go, toppling backwards. But as he does so, as if to find purchase for this inevitable fall, his arms surround the other's upper body to fully pull them both down. The embrace Mandricardo gives only tightens when they finally reach the ground, panicking that Sakyou will use this chance to bolt and be gone for good. His voice cracks as he tries to keep the man close to himself, his body trembling.]
I won't let you go! I won't, I won't-!
Edited (DONT MOBILE TAG KIDS) 2021-06-18 23:11 (UTC)
[There's a pained yelp as he falls, since he hadn't been expecting that for some fuckin reason! At least Mandricardo is here to break his fall so his bruises and little broken bonesies aren't rattled around too badly. Up this close, he'll probably be able to smell the iron tang of blood, gunpowder and burned fabric from Sakyou's messy outfit.
He's also immediately struggling for FREEDOM like a puffed up cat, despite the fact that it's probably reopening some of his cuts. God. Now he's going to make Mandricardo a mess, too. Unsurprising - that's the way it always is. Part of his sword is also probably awkwardly just wedged between them which is surely not comfortable for anyone here, but it's fine.]
Why don't you get it—?!
[It's not accusatory and not exactly angry. There's something in his voice that almost sounds panicked, actually. That said, his adrenaline sure is failing him, and if Mandricardo insists on holding on throughout his period of struggle, he'll eventually falter and wheeze a little.]
[And he holds. Because if there's one thing Mandricardo is, past the worry, the anxiety, the abandoned nature to stand as king and conquer all that's before him, it's stubbornness. Sheer stubbornness. Sakyou panics against him, writhes, and he holds strong, even as the scent of blood soaks into his own clothing.]
[He can't let this go. He won't let this go. He maybe be half-hearted and a bit of a coward, but he can't be a coward for this.]
I have my own willpower, and if I wanna do this, then I WANNA DO THIS, and you can't stop me from takin' care of you as your friend, bastard!
[THEY ARE TWO EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY STUBBORN LADS HATE THIS FOR BOTH OF THEM!!
But unfortunately for him, Mandricardo has the advantage here, since he's not dealing with [redacted], [redacted] or [redacted] right now. Unlike this idiot! Who's doing his best!! For the worst things!!
In any case, he doesn't say anything. He's still not crying - he doesn't cry easily, despite the way he'd nearly done so that day in the woods. But his face twists up like he might, for a second...
And then he just sort of plonks his head down against Mandricardo, his breathing strained. He's still conscious despite the way the fight seems to leave him quite suddenly, but he's quiet, for now. What does one say to that? It's too painful. He doesn't have it in him after everything to fight as ferociously as he normally might. It just hurts. Everything hurts.]
[The man slumps, and Mandricardo lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.]
[It a slow, gentle move, one of his hands moves to rest at the back of the other's head, and then quietly strokes down. He does that for a moment, also catching his breath.]
[There's just a little strangled noise of frustration and he shifts like he's attempting to Hit This Man, which is of course quite difficult in their current position. Sometimes you just do shit, though. At least it's a very flimsy hit, considering he's both Trapped and Tired. On a wheezed-out breath:]
I don't care about that...
[TRULY HE DOES NOT GIVE A SINGLE SHIT ABOUT HIS OWN SELF. He doesn't care that he's safe - more than anything, he's just upset that he's too emotionally and physically drained to do anything useful about this.
...But it's nice. If he allowed himself even the smallest sliver of comfort, he could easily say that the gentle reassurance - the soft hand against his head, the kind words - are nice.
[He says, with some muted annoyance. Just hit him. Why not. He's tired, and be can imagine how tired and in pain Sakyou is. He'll allow him this.]
[But this reaction...just how deep does the self-loathing go? Its a shock to Mandricardo, who thought he was the one to be Mr. Self Hatred around here. He speaks up again, trying to keep his voice level.]
...Tell me what happened. At least...tell me that. [And a beat.] Bradley told me he saw me...wherever he was. If I was there, and did somethin' to you...I'm sorry. It wasn't me, but...
[It goes all the way down to hell lads, all the way down...
At least he doesn't go for a second hit, even though his body tenses like he's going to for a second. He's very tempted. But more than that, he just wants to have enough energy and strength to tear away and go dash into the woods never to be seen again. GOD.
Wow though can't believe Mandricardo really did torture both parties. He freezes up a little, tension winding through his exhausted body like a coil at the mention of that. It's a little easier like this, at least. Not having to look him directly in the face.]
Don't apologize. [Immediately, and also confirming that He Was Indeed There.] I-- Sieghart-dono said that it wasn't real. And it isn't something... to apologize for. We all have people we wish to protect.
[It's an odd feeling, knowing that for these people, he was some kind of horrible illusion, used to traumatize and destroy. His own body tenses at the thought- so was he a villain, perhaps? Just like before...?]
...If you had to hurt or kill that other me...its okay. You had to do what you had to do. Especially...if I was going to cause ya harm.
[He adjusts his grip slightly, turning his face to rest in the crook of the other's neck.]
I want to protect you, though. Even if its from a villain like me.
[He probably smells nasty and he's also sweaty and bloody, but he's not going to push Mandricardo away. His heart thuds in his chest, still running on the dregs of adrenaline and the unpleasantness of All Of This, but... he's quiet. For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. Then, softly:]
...I didn't. [Hurt or kill him.] The situation was set up in a way that encouraged us to do so, but the second time we tried, we were able to do what we needed to without directly harming you three.
[Though he realizes that this will just sound more confusing out of context, and honestly - hilariously - the actual events aren't most of what he takes the biggest issue with. So, after a sigh:]
We were brought to another world and made to complete an objective. Steal an airship, get to the ruins. Any time we died in our attempts to do so, we were brought back to a moment slightly before our deaths. At the ruins, you and two of the others were there - holding hostages. People from our own worlds, I presume... I believe your objective was to kill them to protect your own loved ones.
[He says all of this very clinically, like he's reciting something he read somewhere else.
Can you believe a lad's self-hatred is so intense that he made it sound like he was the one who killed Mandricardo, absolutely hilarious.]
[But...hostages? And dying, returning to moments before death...from what little he knows of it, it does sound like a video game. Multiple lives to try, and try again.]
...I see. Thanks for tellin' me. That sounds...terrible. Funny thing, really...all my loved ones are here. Home isn't a thing for me, anymore.
[But he knows that isn't the point. The point is that even not hurting that other him still shook him up, somehow, made him go deep into this whole "you can't be with me" spiral. He turns his head, giving the other a level look, and gives another stroke over his head.]
...So you guys found a way around it. That's good. But...were you thinking you'd do something similar as that other me? Do somethin' so drastic as taking hostages to save others?
It sure was a ride, though! Sure was!! He purses his lips a little at the remark about his home; further affirmation that the people there really were likely fake, at least. He doesn't want to ruminate on it too deeply.
But Sakyou finally shifts to meet that level look. Compared to the fury, there's just - a strange combination of exhaustion and iciness. That had been part of the problem, without a doubt, albeit just one part.]
To save others, I would kill without hesitation if there was no other way. I would dirty my hands in any way necessary.
[That's what he does. He protects fiercely in the bloodiest of ways. The only reason he hadn't killed is because they'd failed once and found an immediate solution the second time, but he had been ready.]
[Beneaty the elegance, the grace, the smooth exterior lies a tempest, it seems. Like the gentle surface of the ocean, with a whirlpool ready to tug anything in.]
[But there's no judgement from him on that. He just lets out a little sigh, closing his eyes momentarily. Even with his own exhaustion, he knows how much Sakyou must be feeling on his own.]
...After my father was killed...I took out my rage on others. I was bloodthirsty, ready to fight whatever I saw. It was only when I was told who did the deed that I became focused. But even then, that feeling never went away.
[A persisting wrath, ready to burn and destroy where it could.]
Even now...I don't think I would be someone to shy away from that. Better me who kills than leave that to someone else. My hands are already dirty, so...might as well. So...I get it. I do.
Maybe it is similar, then. Maybe a little more similar than he'd thought.
It's an ugliness that Sakyou does his best to keep hidden, unless he's actively trying to push people away; in that case, he puts as much of it on display as he can bear to. Like a celestial body, the intensity of his hatred and fury burn white-hot at his core, largely hidden by his polite and mild demeanor. But one crack is all it takes, right? One crack and the hideous insides are exposed, bubbling to the surface and rocking the shell of his carefully curated presentation to bits.
It's similar, but it's still not the same. He's too exhausted to try hammering that point home, though. The longer he goes without moving, the more his body aches. He closes his eyes; breathing in and out, the expansion of his ribs sends thrums of pain up his spine and fanning across his sides.]
...It never does go away, does it? [He doesn't anticipate that happening so easily even if-- when-- he succeeds. How unfortunate. How sad.]
When one walks down such a path, there's no place to rest. There is no turning back. Once your hands are stained, all you can do is keep them to yourself, so no one else gets caught in the mess you leave behind.
[...Maybe it's a little comforting to know he's not the only one, in a cruel and twisted way.]
[Its a stain in and of itself, after all. Maybe that's what Sakyou's tattoo meant. A lingering dark film, unable to be cleansed.]
I mean...look at me. I died, and I'm still dealing with it.
[He shifts slightly, getting a bit uncomfortable with the weight, but unwilling to let Sakyou go. His arms move to continue to hold the other im an embrace, one hand at the back of the other's neck where that tattoo was printed. His fingers rest there, gently.]
...That's why I don't...reach out to others, usually. They don't need to deal with my sins, my failures. I don't want to unload it on others. Its all my problem, in the end. I'm the problem. It's...how it is, and how it always will be.
[It is a miserable life, and yet, it's one that he'd picked himself, more or less understanding the consequences of doing so. He'd said it before - when living a life destined to be cut short, it's best not to know any vibrant colors.
Sometimes, it's better to tuck yourself far away from others and ensure you can't impact them, even if it means trading out a better, softer life.]
I wish that you didn't have to know it.
[...Maybe if he were a less damaged person, he'd know the right elegant words to say, here. He'd know how to say that Mandricardo isn't the problem without looking like a hypocrite, or encourage him to try reaching out to others, anyway. But he isn't, so the best he can do is this; the genuine wish that this sort of misery wasn't inflicted on him.
He shifts a little, then. The hand at his neck reminds him of the words printed there; it makes him want to draw away and ignore the ugly reminder.]
[It's almost like he physically shrinks away from the statement, like the idea of someone wishing for his happiness is that unsettling to him. He also averts his gaze after a second or two. He feels too seen; he's not sure that he hates it entirely, and that's something that sits strangely.
On a sigh out:] ...I can still walk. I'd rather not trouble you twice.
[Mandricardo getting in on the business of carrying distressed Sakyous around, damn.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[The moment Sakyou turns, Mandricardo's teeth grit together - and he's launching himself forward to grasp the back of the other's collar. He isn't going to yank him harshly back, but his grip is strong, unable to let go.]
This isn't helping me, idiot! What do ya think I was goin' to say to that? "Oh, right, let me let Sakyou die in the woods. Why not! Makes me feel better!"
[He's still crying, but the tears are burning, as hot as the fire in his look.]
Y'know, I'm scared of failure. I don't like talkin' with people. Maybe it would be fine to be alone forever. But deep down, I'm jealous! I'm so jealous! I just want to be around someone...someone who could see eye to eye with me...don't...don't you want that, too?
[He shakes his head.]
I'd rather hurt with you rather than suffer on my own. I'd rather know suffering with you rather than just wallow in my own failure alone forever. I told you, I'm useless. And I'm useless if I can't do anything for you, as a friend.
[His shoulders are shaking.]
Please...please...Sakyou...let me help you.
no subject
In any case!! Since he's grabbed Sakyou's collar - which is more of a black turtleneck, given his bizarre get-up - he'll probably be able to see the letters scrawled out across the nape of his neck when Sakyou jerks forward instinctively. They glow in the dimness of the night and simply read: staining. Sakyou is an ink, after all. The sort of person who leaves an indelible, disgusting mark on everything it touches.
He listens though, first, not facing Mandricardo. How terrible. What a terrible thing. They're still similar in so many ways. To want to reach out toward someone who understands, who can see eye to eye... Mandricardo is not Kayo. He's not the same pristine sheet of white paper, just one wrong move away from being tainted due to his selfish, wanting nature. Of the people here who understand his desire for vengeance, Mandricardo had been the first, and the first to not turn him away for it.
And yet, things still happened as they did, back then.
He can't be fucking normal for even five seconds though, because quite suddenly, he whips around to face Mandricardo as best he can, despite the strong grip. It sends pain shooting up both legs, but he has unmatched stoicism and it hardly shows beyond a flinch. Then, with a wordless shout, he just fuckin full-body launches himself at this sweet emotional lad with the full intent to try breaking his grip and knocking him down onto the forest floor.
It's fine.]
no subject
[Like corruption? Being tainted? Mandricardo stares for a moment at the glowing words, eyebrows furrowed, but wise enough to know this isn't the time to ask. Anyways, now Sakyou should be listening right? Sakyou will let him help him, right...?]
Ah-!
[And suddenly, without warning, Sakyou jumps forward - Mandricardo, shocked, instantly lets go, toppling backwards. But as he does so, as if to find purchase for this inevitable fall, his arms surround the other's upper body to fully pull them both down. The embrace Mandricardo gives only tightens when they finally reach the ground, panicking that Sakyou will use this chance to bolt and be gone for good. His voice cracks as he tries to keep the man close to himself, his body trembling.]
I won't let you go! I won't, I won't-!
no subject
He's also immediately struggling for FREEDOM like a puffed up cat, despite the fact that it's probably reopening some of his cuts. God. Now he's going to make Mandricardo a mess, too. Unsurprising - that's the way it always is. Part of his sword is also probably awkwardly just wedged between them which is surely not comfortable for anyone here, but it's fine.]
Why don't you get it—?!
[It's not accusatory and not exactly angry. There's something in his voice that almost sounds panicked, actually. That said, his adrenaline sure is failing him, and if Mandricardo insists on holding on throughout his period of struggle, he'll eventually falter and wheeze a little.]
no subject
[And he holds. Because if there's one thing Mandricardo is, past the worry, the anxiety, the abandoned nature to stand as king and conquer all that's before him, it's stubbornness. Sheer stubbornness. Sakyou panics against him, writhes, and he holds strong, even as the scent of blood soaks into his own clothing.]
[He can't let this go. He won't let this go. He maybe be half-hearted and a bit of a coward, but he can't be a coward for this.]
I have my own willpower, and if I wanna do this, then I WANNA DO THIS, and you can't stop me from takin' care of you as your friend, bastard!
no subject
But unfortunately for him, Mandricardo has the advantage here, since he's not dealing with [redacted], [redacted] or [redacted] right now. Unlike this idiot! Who's doing his best!! For the worst things!!
In any case, he doesn't say anything. He's still not crying - he doesn't cry easily, despite the way he'd nearly done so that day in the woods. But his face twists up like he might, for a second...
And then he just sort of plonks his head down against Mandricardo, his breathing strained. He's still conscious despite the way the fight seems to leave him quite suddenly, but he's quiet, for now. What does one say to that? It's too painful. He doesn't have it in him after everything to fight as ferociously as he normally might. It just hurts. Everything hurts.]
no subject
[The man slumps, and Mandricardo lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.]
[It a slow, gentle move, one of his hands moves to rest at the back of the other's head, and then quietly strokes down. He does that for a moment, also catching his breath.]
You're safe. You're safe, okay?
no subject
I don't care about that...
[TRULY HE DOES NOT GIVE A SINGLE SHIT ABOUT HIS OWN SELF. He doesn't care that he's safe - more than anything, he's just upset that he's too emotionally and physically drained to do anything useful about this.
...But it's nice. If he allowed himself even the smallest sliver of comfort, he could easily say that the gentle reassurance - the soft hand against his head, the kind words - are nice.
It just upsets him more.]
no subject
[He says, with some muted annoyance. Just hit him. Why not. He's tired, and be can imagine how tired and in pain Sakyou is. He'll allow him this.]
[But this reaction...just how deep does the self-loathing go? Its a shock to Mandricardo, who thought he was the one to be Mr. Self Hatred around here. He speaks up again, trying to keep his voice level.]
...Tell me what happened. At least...tell me that. [And a beat.] Bradley told me he saw me...wherever he was. If I was there, and did somethin' to you...I'm sorry. It wasn't me, but...
[It feels like he has to apologize, somehow.]
no subject
At least he doesn't go for a second hit, even though his body tenses like he's going to for a second. He's very tempted. But more than that, he just wants to have enough energy and strength to tear away and go dash into the woods never to be seen again. GOD.
Wow though can't believe Mandricardo really did torture both parties. He freezes up a little, tension winding through his exhausted body like a coil at the mention of that. It's a little easier like this, at least. Not having to look him directly in the face.]
Don't apologize. [Immediately, and also confirming that He Was Indeed There.] I-- Sieghart-dono said that it wasn't real. And it isn't something... to apologize for. We all have people we wish to protect.
no subject
[It's an odd feeling, knowing that for these people, he was some kind of horrible illusion, used to traumatize and destroy. His own body tenses at the thought- so was he a villain, perhaps? Just like before...?]
...If you had to hurt or kill that other me...its okay. You had to do what you had to do. Especially...if I was going to cause ya harm.
[He adjusts his grip slightly, turning his face to rest in the crook of the other's neck.]
I want to protect you, though. Even if its from a villain like me.
no subject
...I didn't. [Hurt or kill him.] The situation was set up in a way that encouraged us to do so, but the second time we tried, we were able to do what we needed to without directly harming you three.
[Though he realizes that this will just sound more confusing out of context, and honestly - hilariously - the actual events aren't most of what he takes the biggest issue with. So, after a sigh:]
We were brought to another world and made to complete an objective. Steal an airship, get to the ruins. Any time we died in our attempts to do so, we were brought back to a moment slightly before our deaths. At the ruins, you and two of the others were there - holding hostages. People from our own worlds, I presume... I believe your objective was to kill them to protect your own loved ones.
[He says all of this very clinically, like he's reciting something he read somewhere else.
Can you believe a lad's self-hatred is so intense that he made it sound like he was the one who killed Mandricardo, absolutely hilarious.]
no subject
[shakes sakyou]
[But...hostages? And dying, returning to moments before death...from what little he knows of it, it does sound like a video game. Multiple lives to try, and try again.]
...I see. Thanks for tellin' me. That sounds...terrible. Funny thing, really...all my loved ones are here. Home isn't a thing for me, anymore.
[But he knows that isn't the point. The point is that even not hurting that other him still shook him up, somehow, made him go deep into this whole "you can't be with me" spiral. He turns his head, giving the other a level look, and gives another stroke over his head.]
...So you guys found a way around it. That's good. But...were you thinking you'd do something similar as that other me? Do somethin' so drastic as taking hostages to save others?
no subject
It sure was a ride, though! Sure was!! He purses his lips a little at the remark about his home; further affirmation that the people there really were likely fake, at least. He doesn't want to ruminate on it too deeply.
But Sakyou finally shifts to meet that level look. Compared to the fury, there's just - a strange combination of exhaustion and iciness. That had been part of the problem, without a doubt, albeit just one part.]
To save others, I would kill without hesitation if there was no other way. I would dirty my hands in any way necessary.
[That's what he does. He protects fiercely in the bloodiest of ways. The only reason he hadn't killed is because they'd failed once and found an immediate solution the second time, but he had been ready.]
no subject
[Beneaty the elegance, the grace, the smooth exterior lies a tempest, it seems. Like the gentle surface of the ocean, with a whirlpool ready to tug anything in.]
[But there's no judgement from him on that. He just lets out a little sigh, closing his eyes momentarily. Even with his own exhaustion, he knows how much Sakyou must be feeling on his own.]
...After my father was killed...I took out my rage on others. I was bloodthirsty, ready to fight whatever I saw. It was only when I was told who did the deed that I became focused. But even then, that feeling never went away.
[A persisting wrath, ready to burn and destroy where it could.]
Even now...I don't think I would be someone to shy away from that. Better me who kills than leave that to someone else. My hands are already dirty, so...might as well. So...I get it. I do.
no subject
Maybe it is similar, then. Maybe a little more similar than he'd thought.
It's an ugliness that Sakyou does his best to keep hidden, unless he's actively trying to push people away; in that case, he puts as much of it on display as he can bear to. Like a celestial body, the intensity of his hatred and fury burn white-hot at his core, largely hidden by his polite and mild demeanor. But one crack is all it takes, right? One crack and the hideous insides are exposed, bubbling to the surface and rocking the shell of his carefully curated presentation to bits.
It's similar, but it's still not the same. He's too exhausted to try hammering that point home, though. The longer he goes without moving, the more his body aches. He closes his eyes; breathing in and out, the expansion of his ribs sends thrums of pain up his spine and fanning across his sides.]
...It never does go away, does it? [He doesn't anticipate that happening so easily even if-- when-- he succeeds. How unfortunate. How sad.]
When one walks down such a path, there's no place to rest. There is no turning back. Once your hands are stained, all you can do is keep them to yourself, so no one else gets caught in the mess you leave behind.
[...Maybe it's a little comforting to know he's not the only one, in a cruel and twisted way.]
no subject
[Its a stain in and of itself, after all. Maybe that's what Sakyou's tattoo meant. A lingering dark film, unable to be cleansed.]
I mean...look at me. I died, and I'm still dealing with it.
[He shifts slightly, getting a bit uncomfortable with the weight, but unwilling to let Sakyou go. His arms move to continue to hold the other im an embrace, one hand at the back of the other's neck where that tattoo was printed. His fingers rest there, gently.]
...That's why I don't...reach out to others, usually. They don't need to deal with my sins, my failures. I don't want to unload it on others. Its all my problem, in the end. I'm the problem. It's...how it is, and how it always will be.
It's a miserable life, isn't it...?
no subject
Sometimes, it's better to tuck yourself far away from others and ensure you can't impact them, even if it means trading out a better, softer life.]
I wish that you didn't have to know it.
[...Maybe if he were a less damaged person, he'd know the right elegant words to say, here. He'd know how to say that Mandricardo isn't the problem without looking like a hypocrite, or encourage him to try reaching out to others, anyway. But he isn't, so the best he can do is this; the genuine wish that this sort of misery wasn't inflicted on him.
He shifts a little, then. The hand at his neck reminds him of the words printed there; it makes him want to draw away and ignore the ugly reminder.]
—You can let go. I won't run.
[Perhaps...]
no subject
[Even if Sakyou thinks that's impossible.]
[The next statement gets Mandricardo to turn his head, give him a considering look, dark eyes to dark eyes. His grip loosens, slightly.]
...Will you allow me to carry you back?
no subject
On a sigh out:] ...I can still walk. I'd rather not trouble you twice.
[Mandricardo getting in on the business of carrying distressed Sakyous around, damn.]