[ Silco had frequently -- if not always since that day in the River Pilt -- thought of himself as a fighter, as a survivor. He'd used every trick in the book, ferocious and unyielding to lie, cheat, stab, and cajole his way through every dire encounter. He'd nearly been crushed only a month ago by something so great and terrible -- and yet. All that it had taken was one encounter in the markets, one thing going wrong --
Silco was angry -- so angry -- constantly tried to fight against Vander's superior weight and size, fought to claw his way out, but there's still no purchase, and he's become increasingly limp, each attempt to fight free is met with more force, and Silco's eyes truly are rolled back in his head, his vision going black, another wheezing gasp. His limp, dead hand was fully crushed beneath his body, his other, still weakly tried to fumble at Vander's arm, but --
His thoughts slowed, Silco did the only thing he could, he reached out, with all of the violent desperation of someone quickly fading -- a desperate, flagging attempt at a communion -- a vision of this place, of pain, and cold anger -- the blinding fury, panic, and desperation he intended to keep to himself -- but Silco felt it all the same, and he's uncontrolled in these last moments.
It's over as quick as it started. Silco's own thoughts were sluggish, time was at a crawl, and he felt numb, colder than he had before. First his fingers and toes, arms -- and it quickly spread inward.
A violent gasp, half a gurgle, but it's not a body that went limp with an unblinking eye -- Silco's entire body shuddered, but then it's a soft clink when something hit the flagstones, a thin, long shard of gemstone was all that remained. It reflected the moonlight with a soft, subtle array of dark crystal, a soft, violent streak of purple -- not unlike a certain substance Silco often carried -- when the lights above hit it. ]
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Silco was angry -- so angry -- constantly tried to fight against Vander's superior weight and size, fought to claw his way out, but there's still no purchase, and he's become increasingly limp, each attempt to fight free is met with more force, and Silco's eyes truly are rolled back in his head, his vision going black, another wheezing gasp. His limp, dead hand was fully crushed beneath his body, his other, still weakly tried to fumble at Vander's arm, but --
His thoughts slowed, Silco did the only thing he could, he reached out, with all of the violent desperation of someone quickly fading -- a desperate, flagging attempt at a communion -- a vision of this place, of pain, and cold anger -- the blinding fury, panic, and desperation he intended to keep to himself -- but Silco felt it all the same, and he's uncontrolled in these last moments.
It's over as quick as it started. Silco's own thoughts were sluggish, time was at a crawl, and he felt numb, colder than he had before. First his fingers and toes, arms -- and it quickly spread inward.
A violent gasp, half a gurgle, but it's not a body that went limp with an unblinking eye -- Silco's entire body shuddered, but then it's a soft clink when something hit the flagstones, a thin, long shard of gemstone was all that remained. It reflected the moonlight with a soft, subtle array of dark crystal, a soft, violent streak of purple -- not unlike a certain substance Silco often carried -- when the lights above hit it. ]