Satisfied by the explanation, Sigma nodded sympathetically. In truth, while Sigma had no obligation to the wellbeing of Initiate Fraysong, he could not help but show concern over someone who still had a chance of survival. All he desired now was to die with some semblance of dignity and not like a cat thrown out in the rain.
He blinks once with his wrinkled eye, squinting hard to shield it from the flood, as the Tribute outlined the gruesome death he'd inevitably die should he betray his assistance, and then held the Initiate's gaze. "I would never do such a thing," he announced plainly, "and even if I would, I could not do it now. ...And so your terms are more than fair."
Hesitantly, and not without some embarrassment, he puts his metal hand on the Initiate's shoulder, the normally robotically precise limb now shaking from the fatigue in his shoulder. His second arm wraps below the Initiate's neck, and he's about to hoist himself onto the other Tribute's back-
When without invitation there's a flashbulb memory that ignites like a wick, of the previous Arena when Sigma had been in a similar condition, in a fog between life and death - there had also been one who had stopped to come to his rescue, who could not do anything but hold and protect him untill he passed... it had been his boy, his wild black hair a mess, and would be the very last time Dr. Klim would ever see him alive...
At once Sigma drew back as if the other's skin had burned him, coughing wildly, and for how quickly he moves it might seems as though he had gone back on his word and has wound up to strike. Instead Sigma takes a few panicked steps back, knees buckling beneath him, boots squashing in the mud. "Ahh," he shields his eyes instinctively as if he could block out the memory. By now, his long hair is soaked, and spills over his hands as he covers his face. He stays frozen this way for a moment longer. "I am sorry. I do not know what happened. Let me try again."
His hands release his face and his expression has returned to its natural stiffness. He tentatively reaches for the Initiate's back once more, half expecting to be run through by teeth or claws.
no subject
He blinks once with his wrinkled eye, squinting hard to shield it from the flood, as the Tribute outlined the gruesome death he'd inevitably die should he betray his assistance, and then held the Initiate's gaze. "I would never do such a thing," he announced plainly, "and even if I would, I could not do it now. ...And so your terms are more than fair."
Hesitantly, and not without some embarrassment, he puts his metal hand on the Initiate's shoulder, the normally robotically precise limb now shaking from the fatigue in his shoulder. His second arm wraps below the Initiate's neck, and he's about to hoist himself onto the other Tribute's back-
When without invitation there's a flashbulb memory that ignites like a wick, of the previous Arena when Sigma had been in a similar condition, in a fog between life and death - there had also been one who had stopped to come to his rescue, who could not do anything but hold and protect him untill he passed... it had been his boy, his wild black hair a mess, and would be the very last time Dr. Klim would ever see him alive...
At once Sigma drew back as if the other's skin had burned him, coughing wildly, and for how quickly he moves it might seems as though he had gone back on his word and has wound up to strike. Instead Sigma takes a few panicked steps back, knees buckling beneath him, boots squashing in the mud. "Ahh," he shields his eyes instinctively as if he could block out the memory. By now, his long hair is soaked, and spills over his hands as he covers his face. He stays frozen this way for a moment longer. "I am sorry. I do not know what happened. Let me try again."
His hands release his face and his expression has returned to its natural stiffness. He tentatively reaches for the Initiate's back once more, half expecting to be run through by teeth or claws.