He squeezes his throat with a renewed strength that only a god, his god can give him.
He can feel his consciousness slip away as his oxygen is depleted, smiling as he silently agrees with Scaramouche's statement. Yes, death is sweet, especially when commanded by this divine being that he's so lucky to be able to interact with directly. So few mortals ever get the chance to be so intimately connected with a god, and Childe is one of the few that's been able to serve not one, but two gods now. He knows he's about to pass out, barely able to keep his eyes open before a harsh insult is thrown his way.
It rips through his mind, making the urge to end his life lessen, confused. Did he offend Lord Scaramouche...? What is it that's made him go back on his own will? He looks up in anguish at possibly doing something to fail him...
'Lord...?'
Still incapable of having the energy to speak on his own, the thought comes though, asking. What's wrong? How could he possibly make it up to him?
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He can feel his consciousness slip away as his oxygen is depleted, smiling as he silently agrees with Scaramouche's statement. Yes, death is sweet, especially when commanded by this divine being that he's so lucky to be able to interact with directly. So few mortals ever get the chance to be so intimately connected with a god, and Childe is one of the few that's been able to serve not one, but two gods now. He knows he's about to pass out, barely able to keep his eyes open before a harsh insult is thrown his way.
It rips through his mind, making the urge to end his life lessen, confused. Did he offend Lord Scaramouche...? What is it that's made him go back on his own will? He looks up in anguish at possibly doing something to fail him...
'Lord...?'
Still incapable of having the energy to speak on his own, the thought comes though, asking. What's wrong? How could he possibly make it up to him?