Lindianne looks up from where she's kneeling, looking at Voodoo with an oddly doe-eyed expression. "Yeah. I know. He made his choice." He brought this on himself at the end of the day. But it won't change a thing.
He doesn't have anything in the gear on his HAZMAT suit. Nothing but a picture of a woman. The edges are worn and crinkled with time. She hesitates, holding it gingerly in her good hand, before she tucks it back next to his heart.
The rest of her movements are mechanical. Slice the fuel line. Disassemble the flamethrower. It isn't until the last piece is laid out in front of her that she dares look up again.
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It doesn't make it feel any less... sad, though.
Lindianne looks up from where she's kneeling, looking at Voodoo with an oddly doe-eyed expression. "Yeah. I know. He made his choice." He brought this on himself at the end of the day. But it won't change a thing.
He doesn't have anything in the gear on his HAZMAT suit. Nothing but a picture of a woman. The edges are worn and crinkled with time. She hesitates, holding it gingerly in her good hand, before she tucks it back next to his heart.
The rest of her movements are mechanical. Slice the fuel line. Disassemble the flamethrower. It isn't until the last piece is laid out in front of her that she dares look up again.
"I still kind of hoped, you know."