Standing across his mother, he doesn't dare sit down. If he were to sit down it would remind him too must of being a visitor in a prison he wanted nothing to do with. It would remind him of pain from his days in highschool that he is deliberately avoiding right now, thank you very much. It's hard to be around her, his chest is compressing inward in a way that convinces him he's up to his ears in deep waters.
He's not. He's going to act like he's in shark infested waters anyway.
There's a disconnect here that he can't quite destroy. There always has been. She doesn't talk to him. Doesn't try to get him to understand. He's the only one ever saying anything. He doesn't try to understand in the first place. He's not a little kid trying to get comfort from his mother anymore. He's looked apon her and find her lacking of the opportunity. She doesn't get to be that anymore.
"Dokja."
She drawls his name out in a way that sounds borderline affectionate. He almost forgot what she sounds like, it's been so long that he even started to forget the things he loved most about his mom. She used to read to him all of the time when they were home alone. It just sends a vile shiver up his spine instead. She doesn't deserve to be able to use that tone with him.
"It's time for you to come to reality again."
Her words claw into his chest and tear his ribs away to leave him open and raw. His breath catches in his throat and everything that he's been putting off while standing here, every feeling and scream and sob, begins to grate against every nerve on his body.
[The exclusive skill 'The Fourth Wall' shakes violently]
He's on the cusp of a breakdown. There is nothing he can do about it.
o0o
There's a very interesting difference in what it feels like to be torn apart as a couple of poorly seen together stories than what it actually is like to be torn apart as a body. Kim Dokja has felt both. Standing here in the belly of a Outer God, he has decided being a set of stories hurts more for some inconceivable reason.
His stories are being devoured, however minimally it is. 'The Fourth Wall' should kick in soon, just as it always does. But for now he's stuck letting the flesh of his stories be torn off of his bones in a process more painful than if it had been his flesh. But this, this is a feeling that is not new to him. He has felt similar things before, he reminds himself.
He still winces and groans at the staggering pain.
He's already missing his lower legs, the white hot agony it was has just turned into a static pins and needles compared to everything else. He thinks about the Yoo Joonghyuk that went through this exact thing. How must it have felt for him, he who had no skill to save him. Kim Dokja has to be strong, strong enough to hold a candle to what his protagonist had accomplished.
Belatedly, he realizes he is screaming. It's loud and hoarse, something that comes from deep in his chest and hurts his throat. He can't really hear it very well and his pain is getting further and further away the longer he's here. There are hot tears streaming down his face as he waits.
He just has to wait. He has to reread it again.
The fourth wall comes to his rescue soon after. There isn't much it can do with his broken body though. He must save his mother, as she had him all those times. It's a debt he has to repay. The debt of survival.
o0o
'Oh to see the look on their faces when I crash and burn and they finally realize I was never strong'
There's an itch at his fingertips. Kim Dokja smiles and laughs along with the celebration happening around them. Peaceland will be the last time they'll have to relax for a little while, so he lets them have their fun. The night smells of alcohol and grilled food. Lee Jihye has gotten her hands on some of the alcohol and is yelling and dancing around. She's probably at least tipsy.
He smiles and shakes his head. 'Teenagers.'
Yoo Joonghyuk is looking at him over his own mug of the constellation brew he concocted, eyes dark and intense. Dokja ignore it as he finishes off the heavenly skewer he's holding onto.
Time to get back to work. He walks back out to the balcony with a mug, ignoring the thoughts of his conversation earlier with Peacelands creater invading his mind. He has a goal here. He closes the curtains to the balcony door in an effort to not interrupt the festivities inside. Absentmindedly he hums along to the violin playing from the roof. It's the last he'll see or hear of the man he had called master for a little while.
Sitting on the smooth stone, he pulls out a vial from his coat and looks at it. The secret reward for defeating the constellation. He swishes it around a bit before popping the cork, he pours it into the alcoholic drink he snagged. Stirring it around with his finger, he cradles the drink close to his chest and bring his knees up as well. He hates alcohol.
'Well, I guess it's time for bottoms up.'
He brings the mug to his lips and tips backwards a bit to chug it. It burns as it goes down and continues to burn once it reaches his stomach. His stories start to sing, one after the next raising to meet the new power that's tearing him up from the inside out. The pain is manageable, but he's still sweating and breathing heavy. It starts to raise, making a familiar feeling of being boiled alive grip his brain. With a grunt, he doubles over and crumples to the floor.
Of course getting this skill was going to hurt this much. Nothing in his life could ever be so easy.
o0o
"Kim Dokja!"
He's hit. There's a hole in his side that has taken most of his organs with it. He doesn't feel most of the pain, if any at all, but he still falls to his knees and coughs up blood all the same.
Yoo Joonghyuk catches him, not very far from where Dokja had pushed him out of the way in the first place. The stupid sunfish was about to get himself killed. That guy never listens to him properly.
He does his best to avoid thinking about how much that is just an echo of himself.
Looking up, he finds the window for the bounty scenario still on display, there are a couple minutes still left on the timer. They could gain more from this. He just needed Joonghyuk to...
"...kill me." He barely manages to crack out. It's hard when he really just wants to fall asleep. His eyelids are starting to get too heavy to keep open. Dokja turns to the protagonist with a bloody smile and half lidded eyes.
"Joonghyuk-ah." He lays as much affection into his tone as he can. It's not the overly fake one he usually teases the regressor with. His voice carries all of the affection he's ever had for the bastard. There's so much there. It's hard to place into words. Instead, he begs.
"Kill me, Joonghyuk-ah."
It will never be enough.
'Are you getting bored of me yet?'
Notes: