i want the K because i'm living on the edge :')
I’M GOING TO NEED A LOT MORE VODKA (selectively accepting)
The sheer amount of anxiety that could be felt reverberating from his very form, if not by the path he was engraving into the ground at the other’s bedside. Each step was taken with purpose and deep worry that he desperately attempted to swallow with each passing moment. Deployment into the Commonwealth was quickly approaching, and the unaccounted injury his Paladin sustained had not been calculated into the equation that was set out for the following months. At barely twenty years of age, the stress that weighed upon the youthful Arthur Maxson continued to surmount with each unplanned mistake, and he knew in that moment that Danse was perhaps the last person that should have been sent into the Commonwealth for the sheer sake of reconnaissance. The two units that preceded him lost contact with the Citadel, and if the highly loyal Paladin was to set out without fully recovering, then he too had the chance of being among their numbers as well.
Standing at the foot of the mattress, Maxson pressed the palms of his hands into the metal frame that cropped up from beneath his feet. He leaned and watched for any signs of change, listening through the silence that was the empty medical bay for a steady intake of air or unseen rustle. Hours flew by in what felt like minutes before he all by wrenched his fingers open, and he forced himself to pace again. Rounding the bed frame’s edge, Arthur eventually followed its perimeter until the head of the wrought iron cot was reached, and with what might have sounded like a defeated sigh, his body careened forward.
“Shield yourself from those not bound to you by steel,” he began slowly, mouth hovered little more than a breath from the side of his face.
“–for they are the blind. Aid them when you can, but lose not sight of yourself.” His lips barely grazed the shell of the other’s ear, although his words, it seemed, rang clear.
Limbs shifted and eyes snapped open–emerald hues largely obscured by a shrinking pupil immediately scanned the room for the source. As if the Codex itself had been remedy enough to draw the Paladin back to consciousness. With little more than a proud, albeit subtle pull of his lips, Maxson leaned back and hammered a fisted hand against the broad of his chest in a clear salute:
