@saoildorcha / from here.
Dark eyes tear themselves away from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. When he had encountered the other man in this house (scabbed over, the air thick with the soot-like plague, abandoned and thoroughly looted days prior), Daniil had initially considered it rather fortuitous. Unconventional though his methods were, Burahk was… resourceful, and it rather improved his odds of passing through the district relatively unscathed. Then the Haruspex had spoken, and it took little time at all to remember why it was they tended to leave one another to their own devices.
“Hardly,” he scoffs. “Rather it still baffles me the obvious path continues to be disregarded for — what? Tradition? Folk methods?” Daniil hesitates after speaking, just long enough that it’s obvious he realizes how insulting the words might seem to the man practicing such methods. No apology follows them though, and he turns to look outside again.
“A miracle isn’t going to save your town, emshen.”
he feels like he’s wasting time. but that’s a constant anxiety that he carries with him ----------- that if he isn’t actively trying to do what he needs to do, everything he has done will be for nothing. it’s only slightly silly. to make himself feel a little better about it, he makes a show of raking through drawers when he can tell that there’s nothing left. ( it’s a shame. he’s starving. )
❝ for a man i’ve heard so much about, praised as a visionary, you keep a closed mind. ❞ artemy only manages to be mildly insulted by bachelor’s words. he’s too tired and in all honesty, dankovsky seems a little too dense to even begin to know what he’s talking about. ❝ perhaps it would do you some good to suspend your disbelief once in a while. if something works, it works. it’s impractical not to consider every option presented to you, even if you don’t fully understand it. ❞ he comes to a corpse that’s been lying on the floor, and he pauses and shuts his eyes for a moment as if in prayer before he moves away the rags and starts to cut it open, very thankful indeed for thick leather gloves.
there’s a sickening crunch as haruspex does his best to remove the ribcage with his bare hands. a bonesaw would be too heavy to carry around, and so he must rely on his own strength. ❝ you’re a thanatologist, right ? maybe it’s fitting that you seem to be waiting for the town to die. ❞
