[ he's only suffering through matoba's babbling because 1) he couldn't hear him over the pain in his chest, and 2) the exorcist just had to explain in the most highfaluting way possible. at least make it more interesting and colorful for shylock to comprehend to help cope through the pain?
but beggars can't be choosers, apparently. especially when his heartache has been aggravated even further with matoba's brand of... magic? it felt like magic, something that faust would've specialized in as a maledictor. but at the same time it's not; there's something human about this purification ability, something that shylock's entire being thoroughly objects.
he yells in pain, an uncharacteristic sound coming from him, and he is thankful that murr isn't here to witness this. or maybe murr would've loved it either way? there's just no telling about that man. how poetic that shylock is thinking of him in these moments of pure agony. but the sight of matoba getting knocked back by his own affliction surprised him, his gaze darting between the other's burned hand and matoba's steely gaze, and he manages a bitter laugh as he staggers to sit up. ]
You... did your best. [ he sighs, and winces from the pain. ] But I'm afraid that the best course of action... is to wait.
[ and wait they do. the embers in his chest actually do die out little by little, and by the time it kills itself, shylock is more than exhausted and is ready to collapse onto the floor again. ]
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but beggars can't be choosers, apparently. especially when his heartache has been aggravated even further with matoba's brand of... magic? it felt like magic, something that faust would've specialized in as a maledictor. but at the same time it's not; there's something human about this purification ability, something that shylock's entire being thoroughly objects.
he yells in pain, an uncharacteristic sound coming from him, and he is thankful that murr isn't here to witness this. or maybe murr would've loved it either way? there's just no telling about that man. how poetic that shylock is thinking of him in these moments of pure agony. but the sight of matoba getting knocked back by his own affliction surprised him, his gaze darting between the other's burned hand and matoba's steely gaze, and he manages a bitter laugh as he staggers to sit up. ]
You... did your best. [ he sighs, and winces from the pain. ] But I'm afraid that the best course of action... is to wait.
[ and wait they do. the embers in his chest actually do die out little by little, and by the time it kills itself, shylock is more than exhausted and is ready to collapse onto the floor again. ]