[he's hurt and he's desperate and the combination makes him angry, angrier than a frightened reminder of his name can cure. he's trying to lunge at the man who holds the sword, fury in his eyes.
[Well. Arthur lunges, and the swordsman reacts both on instinct and deliberation, slicing Arthur's throat with his neck.]
... I'm sorry.
[As Arthur collapses, the woman comes closer, kneeling down on the ground by him.]
... You really deserved better than this, Arthur.
[Suffice to say, this is a fatal injury. But it's because death now takes a hold of Arthur, dragging his soul away, that finally, he starts to come to his senses. Just for a moment, hazy through the anger; just long enough for him to respond and die as himself, not as a monster.]
[all he feels once he realizes what he's done, the unchangeable damage he's wrought, is a deep, all encompassing guilt. he wonders if he might have preferred to slip away without understanding it all, but he's dimly aware that's a final moment of selfishness in a life too full of them.
he looks up towards her, and of course he's not angry. in fact:]
I didn't... deserve better.
[he never has, and it wasn't her fault. his last thought is a desperate hope that she knows this.]
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i rolled a two lmao]
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[As Arthur collapses, the woman comes closer, kneeling down on the ground by him.]
... You really deserved better than this, Arthur.
[Suffice to say, this is a fatal injury. But it's because death now takes a hold of Arthur, dragging his soul away, that finally, he starts to come to his senses. Just for a moment, hazy through the anger; just long enough for him to respond and die as himself, not as a monster.]
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he looks up towards her, and of course he's not angry. in fact:]
I didn't... deserve better.
[he never has, and it wasn't her fault. his last thought is a desperate hope that she knows this.]
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... Idiot. Don't say that.
[And that's the last thing Arthur hears, before he dies... and then, he wakes up.]