"[May the peace that you sought, the peace that you denied so in life...]", she said as she slowly stood up.
"[...Be granted to you in death. May you find it, wherever you are.]"
Liman places a hand over her heart, eyes closed.
"[Our duty, to ourselves and to others.]", she shifted her hand.
"[Our honour, through which we guide ourselves and our values.]", she shifted her hand again.
"[And our unity, that we will never forget about those dear to us.]", she said as she unslings her rifle, and switches off the safety, pointing it at the sky.
всегда веренAnd she fired a shot, then another and another. Before she twirls the rifle, spinning it in her hands as she performs ceremonial drill for him
.
After she's done, she knelt beside him, and picks up her entrenching shovel.
всегда веренWhile that's true, you also don't have a reason to bawl your eyes out over it.
You're emotionally damaged, sure- but you don't have to worry about how you're not sad enough. In a way, that's just insensitive, because you're focused on your feelings and not theirs.
No-one's asking you to be a saint of empathy, Link.
-Liman, upon closer inspection can notice that there's a small piece of paper tucked into his shirt pocket-
-along with the shine of polished metal-
1.5 imperial gallons of tea were consumed during the writing of this post-the metal pin is in the shape of a fountain-
-spewing water it looks like-
-there's a bit of Latin engraved on the bottom- "Nihil fit ex nihilo"
-and the paper seems to be folded, with signs of ink on the inside of it, a note perhaps?-
In fact, being aware of this, Link- is kinda blastin' a hole in your self-doubts.
You know you should be sad, and that's better than not knowing you should be sad.
1.5 imperial gallons of tea were consumed during the writing of this post "Tell the maid-girl Audrey that she can kiss my dead ass."
-nah, that's not what the note reads-
"If you're reading this- then I am dead. Whether I took Raut with me, I don't know- perhaps he is still out there. I had planned to fight him alone, and kill him- to minimize loss or casualty in either way. He was after me, and me alone- so I, like always- tried to shoulder this on my own. I left when everyone was asleep- and for some of the conversations you had- I was awake, yet I knew if I had recovered whilst anyone was awake- that you would try to stop me."
-it continues-
"My breathing was severely affected by the bullet that lodged itself in my lung- though give my thanks to whoever it was that removed it, since I recovered well enough that I felt I could give this fight to Raut."
"If you are Liman- go to my room, and find my journals. Keep them safe, and do what I told you before. The Journal consisting of the dates 1892-1914 cover my first meetings with the Fountain, and all you will need to know as if you were inside it. Anything after that will cover my own insights and knowledge of the goings on within that society."
"If you are to write a tombstone for this corpse- know that it is I, Jack Griffin. Born in 1862. Died 2017. I was what you are, I am what you will be."
Oh yeah, fine- of course.
You find an alchemist?
1.5 imperial gallons of tea were consumed during the writing of this postLiman gulps, pocketing the note and the clip into one of her pouches and pulled the wheelbarrow beside the body, starting to heft it.
To Audrey, she looked as she dragged Jack's corpse into it "I-Its...fine...Y-You needn't be afraid—t-the masked man is...no more as well. You are safe now."
всегда верен-Liman notices a black car parked up by her outpost too-
-there's some sort of driver sat still in the front-
-completely still like some sort of animatronic-
-the cat just continues on ahead, jumping down onto the roof of the car-
Yeah- yeah. Oh- and if you happen to meet Yuri, tell me she owes me the control over August. She'll know what I mean.
edited 27th Mar '17 11:52:27 AM by RegularDefender
1.5 imperial gallons of tea were consumed during the writing of this post

...It is a damned shame.
He shakes his head.
I should at least feel something for the girl. The one who died was — important to her. Yet I still have emptiness.
dead devotion