I KNOW I'M TO BLAME SO I APOLOGIZE // O, AFTERMATH

[Roy Mustang]

Roy felt like an idiot. He deserved whatever comments were thrown at him when his clanmates finally found him those few nights ago. He should have been patient. He shouldn't have relied on an instinct that he wasn't used to, especially considering after the ordeal was over, that instinct felt raw, feral, and foreign. If he was patient, if he managed to over come that feeling and waited just a few more hours, his leg would have been safely removed. It wouldn't had to be cauterized, have uneven cuts- Rin wouldn't have to be redressing his wound everyday as well.

Roy felt like a burden, having to stay in the Cleric's den while his wound heals. He was mad at himself that he made this situation ten times worse than what it originally was. While it seemed like a great idea at the time, his decision to amputate his own limb only opened up more, time consuming problems. Rin has to take time out of her day to focus on him, to redress his burn wounds with the correct herbs, and then re-bandage it. Every time she redressed his wounds, and wrapped his stump in new bandages, the anger he felt towards himself only grew. If he didn't give into that animal instinct during that state of desperation and panic, Rin wouldn't have to do any of this so often. He wanted to apologize, that it's his damn fault that she has to help him, but an apology isn't going to change what happened.

Roy, who was laying down, lifted his head off of his front paws, glancing at his newly bandaged stump. His eyes didn't leave his bandaged stump for a few moments, before he tore his gaze off of it. I'm such a fucking idiot, The flame alchemist thought to himself, as a sigh escaped his mouth as his ears pinned back to his skull. If his lieutenant, Riza, discovered what he did to himself, he knew she would be pissed. She'd probably call him an idiot too, and he'd certainly deserve it from her.

[Suiteheart]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]Roy, Roy, Roy. That poor kid had been through hell the past couple of weeks. There were levels to it; Maes, his own guilt, the rock slide, chewing of his own leg. Suiteheart was amazed the guy was still alive. He was resilient, she would give him that. Even when everything was shit and hope seemed too far off, he didn't give up. She admired him for that - she really did.

The Ecliptic Admiral found herself walking by the Cleric's room. She often headed passed there on her daily routes, just to check up on people. She made it her personal mission to try and help Rin and (begrudgingly) Rad. It was just the right thing to do, wasn't it? Anyhow, now, she found Roy. He was upset which was not hard to read. "Hey, buddy," the white cat greeted, softly. She offered him a thin smile, sitting down next to him. Her eyes did fall to his wound, and if she thought hard enough, she could almost picture his leg. Almost but not quite.

Moving baby blue eyes to find Roy's own, she asked, "How ya holding up? Are you doing any therapy?" Her voice was tender as she spoke so as not to upset him further. The Flame Alchemist was obviously not in a good mindset; she did not plan on making it worse. God, that was the last thing she wanted.

[radeken]

“[color=black]Hey, hotshot, feel infected yet?” It was supposed to sound friendly but it didn’t really. She trusted that Rin was taking good care of Roy and Roy’s sad little stump - and whenever Radeken deigned to be around, she would give him the best treatment she could, as well - but cauterization on that scale still made her twitchy, like she expected his bandages to start squirting rotten-smelling pus at any moment. “[color=black]Should start putting aloe on it soon. Helps with scarring.” The halo commented idly, sliding into the den to surreptitiously stuff some leaves and dainty petals into her bag, Not that there would be any road out of this for Roy that wasn’t pockmarked with warped, ugly scars - he had chewed his own leg of, for fuck’s sake - but Radeken was trying out this thing where she would say half-comforting medicine-y things and see where it got her.

She eyed Suiteheart like the pale cat was a nuisance just by being here, or perhaps just a threat, but she didn’t say anything. Look at me. I’m behaving so well. She closed her bag and stretched her hind legs (Look Roy, I have two and they work just fine) before clearing her throat. “[color=black]Think you need anything?”

[Character Graveyard.]

LUNAFREYA N.F.

✯ — take these broken wings and learn to fly

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Luna had felt bad for Roy when his friend had died. And now, he was sitting in the Cleric's den, slowly healing but looking upset. The female had taken a seat beside Suite and dropped a squirrel that she had recently caught at Roy's front paws.

"Eat it." Luna told the injured male, sternness clear in her voice as she spoke.

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✯ — Luna. The Ascedants. Easy. — ✯

#psychosocial.

[BASTILLEPAW]

AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT

He supposed he could feel bad for Roy, but he didn't really feel anything, so there was that. It was a shame, really -- Roy was one of their few actual fighters. And... sure, losing a leg was also very traumatic and all, so there was all of... that, too. But he would live and he would heal and they would all get to keep their suspicious lump of moodiness. Bast might actually miss him if he wasn't there to question every single thing he said and did, frankly.

He stopped beside Rad, bumping into her side as he did so. He didn't seem to greet any one with such casual contact any more, but Rad was different. For one thing, she didn't care; for another, they'd always been somewhat friends; for a third, she was one of the few who hadn't turned on him or pushed him away in disgust. Bastille needed the contact, frankly, and he had no problem getting it in casual bursts from Rad -- even if she only saw him as a useful test dummy. That was fine by him. A mutually beneficial friendship.

Maybe his leg gets to kick it in the afterlife with Maes, he thought, morbid, and kept that to himself. "Well, at least it looks slightly better. Ish."

[align=center][b]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGS