This is My Legacy [Closed]

[nunpunching]

WHO| AndrAIa, Holiday, Punchy and Jack
WHAT| Time for an Avox to die.
WHEN| Week 3, at night
WHERE| North coast
WARNINGS| Death.

Punchy's not built to stand hunger for too long, and being as demoralized as he is, the only reason he's even bothering to try is because he can be an extra pair of eyes to Holiday and AndrAIa. As resources become increasingly scarce, though, he starts to think that the way he can most effectively help is to stop eating their food, stop drinking their water.

He's on watch now, sitting at the mouth of their little cave, listening to the sound of the ocean. Every once in a while he rolls a pebble off the edge of the cliff they're near, listening to the sizzle is makes so far down below. The acid is eating away at the shore, but it's slow, not a problem. Yet.

He can't say anything if he sees danger, but he can reach over and shake them. He almost doesn't want to, but that's a faint thought, that he can protect them without their knowledge. That he could make it up to AndrAIa for last time. He holds his puppet in his lap and holds silent conversations with it.

Comments

[nunpunching]

He pulls away from her, away from the touch, both the Avox conditioning and his own pride telling him not to take her help. It doesn't matter that blood's dripping all down him now.

He stumbles out of the cave, looking for someplace to curl and die with his ego intact. He doesn't get far.

[doc_holi]

It was too bad and she knew that he couldn't be saved, but Holiday tried to stay close to him for a moment while he walked away from her.

It was when he fell that she ran tom him, scolding herself for being so... unattached to the situation...

She's kneeling over him in an instant, hand on his arm. She couldn't help with the injury and... it was already too late anyway...

[nunpunching]

He lays on his hip, eyes focusing on the trail of blood he left on the rocks behind him. He doesn't know what was hit - must have been an artery of some sort - because he remembers gut wounds usually don't kill so quickly.

This isn't how he wanted to go. Maybe the conditioning left some part of him wanting to crawl away like this, unobtrusive, unnoticed. But Punchy always imagined something greater for himself - a breezy smile, a few dramatic last words that can be published in a newspaper. Not scared wordless pants.

He looks up at Holiday.

[doc_holi]

Hoping he doesn't continue to back away from her, Holiday reached her arms out to him, intending to hold him close until he passed. She didn't want him to be alone or feel as if he was or should be. Even if she had equipment, there wasn't much one could do for this. Besides, there didn't seem a point in this place, even for people she loved.

[nunpunching]

The last time he died, it was something like this. The feeling is familiar, the way death soaks up like dye in a wet rag. The way his body starts going cold, the strange spasms in his throat that he can't even feel trying to drag in breath. The sky above lilts easy as a song.

But rather than blotting out life, death is wiping out the sort of half-living state he's found himself in since the Avoxing.

He dies with only Holidays embrace warming him, and for that he is grateful.