[He's fine. He can handle this. It's not lethal, if it were he wouldn't be standing.
That's what 9S is telling himself when his thoughts are drowned out by pure white noise, air escapes his lungs in a pained cry as something pulls him off his feet. The pain of moving turns out to be much worse than the impact. He grits his teeth, prying one eye open. He sees Venus.
What was she doing?
It takes a moment to piece together his situation, and he can't help but feel a little indignant--or maybe embarrassed was a better word for it. He's the one who was supposed to be helping her, not the other way around. He really screwed up.
With a visceral spray of blood and synthetic fluids, 9S rips the sword out of his abdomen and releases it, where it returns to his back. He pushes himself to speak, and despite the situation, he doesn't seem to be taking it seriously at all.]
...You're...doing this all...wrong. It's my job...to help you.
no subject
That's what 9S is telling himself when his thoughts are drowned out by pure white noise, air escapes his lungs in a pained cry as something pulls him off his feet. The pain of moving turns out to be much worse than the impact. He grits his teeth, prying one eye open. He sees Venus.
What was she doing?
It takes a moment to piece together his situation, and he can't help but feel a little indignant--or maybe embarrassed was a better word for it. He's the one who was supposed to be helping her, not the other way around. He really screwed up.
With a visceral spray of blood and synthetic fluids, 9S rips the sword out of his abdomen and releases it, where it returns to his back. He pushes himself to speak, and despite the situation, he doesn't seem to be taking it seriously at all.]
...You're...doing this all...wrong. It's my job...to help you.