It sounded simple and it should be, yet still he kept being intruded upon. He sighed, frustrated and unable to get rid of the feeling. "Tell that to Loren. And Chulane. And Kiada. Tell that to your woman. They don't listen to me." Korbin honestly couldn't see what they were all so eager for. He was really not that great a guy that people should be clamoring to get involved with him.
Guess they wouldn't anymore though.
The question that followed left him speechless. Without an answer. None that made sense, at least. Because Weaver had died, and he had gone mad? Because he couldn't shift with alcohol in his system? Because the winds of Halo were too cold, and he wanted to fly, not freeze to death? Because... maybe he was still hoping. Waiting, for something. Some small thing that might make this existence bearable.
"Maybe... I was waiting? To see if anyone actually needed me still."
Had anyone appeared? Did Neron and his job hunt count? Korbin didn't know. Just that he never really had a place in this town, in this region. He had only ever floated around, been the spare, the extra hands, drifting along in Weaver's shadow. In Erebor's. The younger brother. The soft one.
His eyes stung, and Korbin blinked. Closed his eyes and drew a soft breath. Thinking about what used to be was painful. Thinking about the future was painful. Being here, now, in the present... that was painful too.
"I don't want to be like this, Noah," he whispered, like it was a secret no one else could know. "I don't want to hurt them. But they won't leave me alone, and they won't listen, so I get angry. I lose control. And they're going to make things change again. People will die. They always do when things change."
Guess they wouldn't anymore though.
The question that followed left him speechless. Without an answer. None that made sense, at least. Because Weaver had died, and he had gone mad? Because he couldn't shift with alcohol in his system? Because the winds of Halo were too cold, and he wanted to fly, not freeze to death? Because... maybe he was still hoping. Waiting, for something. Some small thing that might make this existence bearable.
"Maybe... I was waiting? To see if anyone actually needed me still."
Had anyone appeared? Did Neron and his job hunt count? Korbin didn't know. Just that he never really had a place in this town, in this region. He had only ever floated around, been the spare, the extra hands, drifting along in Weaver's shadow. In Erebor's. The younger brother. The soft one.
His eyes stung, and Korbin blinked. Closed his eyes and drew a soft breath. Thinking about what used to be was painful. Thinking about the future was painful. Being here, now, in the present... that was painful too.
"I don't want to be like this, Noah," he whispered, like it was a secret no one else could know. "I don't want to hurt them. But they won't leave me alone, and they won't listen, so I get angry. I lose control. And they're going to make things change again. People will die. They always do when things change."
In loving memory of when I gave a shit
KORBIN
HALE
HALE
