◆ @burntchild | SEIFER ALMASY →
╰( Send ⚔️ to see my muse’s reaction to being stabbed (or just send ’stab’) | Alternatively, send 🔪 or ’stabbed’ for my muse to stab your’s )
What started off as a simple sparring session, something normal, something familiar, had quickly spiraled into something far more serious. He hadn't noticed, not at first - just assuming the other had more pent up anger he needed to toss out - something both were guilty of venting through their fights every now & then.
It was fine. They could handle it, knew what they were getting into well before they clashed blades & traded blows - knew the other could take what they dished back, that the other wasn't fragile. It was part of the comfort feeling - that knowledge. A safety net to fall back on to truly let loose & not hold back.
Only - he knows now how stupid a thing it was to blindly believe, knowing it wouldn’t be the first time. End of the day, both were as human as they came. Flesh & blood, blood & bone - vulnerable.
They could fuck up - had.
Blows being tossed, something shifted - that glazed over look coming to, a sign of another memory rising to the surface - all before something hostile snapped & suddenly it wasn't just a friendly sparring match meant for fun. Each strike, intended to hurt was tossed his way - there was only so much dodging he could do. Maybe he intended to incapacitate him, if only to stop before it escalated, but a sudden jerk, a panicked swing made at the last moment to change his action & his target had been struck, the edge of his blade meeting it's mark as the world skid to a chilling halt.
He stares back, into bright green, noting how the hazy look seemed to fade, coming to with a rising look of confusion, shock, horror, flickering like the static of a radio through each channel at a speed far too great for him to really pick any one thing for long. Guilt pierces him, panic not far behind, frozen in place as he tries to decide what to do to fix it. Red stains the edge of Revolver, plipping to the ground below, grimly anticipating the clatter of a blade along the ground.