"Dear god, you can't keep falling in love with weapon-coded characters!"
Me, on the floor, holding my blorbos close: "BUT THEY ATTRIBUTE THEIR WORTH TO THEIR PERFORMANCE -"
"You have to branch out."
Me, sobbing: "They can't form lasting connections because they struggle to swallow love. It's too soft, too kind. They can't see a future where they have it or think they are incapable of returning it -"
"You can't keep doing this."
Puddlefied Me: "They can't be beaten, but they can be destroyed! THEY CAN'T DIE BUT HAVE BEEN SLOWLY DYING -
"I need you to calm down."
What happens when a gun does not want to be a weapon!? What happens when the strongest can't die with their friends, but can't save them either? What happens when the thing you are best at is slowly killing who you are: DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU, HOW ARE YOU NORMAL ABOUT THIS -