[Welt simply appearing is the first alarm bell that sounds off in his head, even as March guides him with a friendly smile to a corner just out of sight. There's a nagging feeling that sits in his mind, how he doesn't quite like that it's now the three of them instead of two. It's probably just his paranoia, the Astral Express members have always tried to reason with Sunday, and they're not bloodthirsty killers.
So it should be fine, right?
Noah gives off a nervous smile, a little apprehensive of the greeting, but trying to be cooperative.]
Ah, thank you, Mr. Yang... but technically, this is my first time meeting you.
[And then the second part of Welt's statement hits. It's not fine. It's not fine at all.
Noah doesn't get to argue- blood comes into his mouth as March stabs him in the back, electricity following in its wake. And then she stabs him again. And again. And again-]
Miss March-?! [It hurts. Oh god, oh god, it hurts. Everything burns, everything is bleeding, there is so much pain he can't make heads or tails of it. The jolts of lightning flow through his veins, his nerves, the feathers on his headwings smelling of smoke and blood, and he screams, tears flowing from his eyes as she keeps stabbing him.
Noah doesn't know what to do. He turns and March stabs him in the shoulder. He raises his arms, and she stabs him there too. Every notion of protecting himself, everything that he was taught in order to keep himself safe has fled in an effort to try and get away. But he can't- this corner they're in won't give him a chance, as March has blocked the exit.
There is so much red that blossoms across his clothes, decorates his chest like a bundle of spider lilies blooming in the fall. He staggers, feet losing balance, ending up haphazardly against the wall as March continues.]
Please- please!! [Noah's voice is begging, pleading.] Why??? Why are you doing this!?!? [A part of his body is numb, he can't feel his legs, the pain is there but he no longer has the capacity to acknowledge it.
...
...is this what it's like to die?
There's nothing left in him to try and run, or to try and fight back. Noah just desperately tries to reason with a hallucination and someone who no longer has their sanity. Weakly;] I'm not- [Sunday.] I'm not-!! [Sunday.
He sinks against the wall, blood trailing after him like paint, screams turning to whimpers, which eventually go silent as well. His brain plays over and over again how Welt accuses him of needing to face some hardship, of people calling him Sunday, always Mr. Sunday. Noah is not Sunday. He's not, he can't-
...maybe it doesn't matter, in the end. He still did those things, past life or not. He still trapped Penacony in an endless dream in Ena's embrace. Still forced his wish upon others to ease people's burdens in one of the worst ways possible. Chose Order over Harmony, fought for a twisted reason that he truly thought was viable.
If that's true ("It's true, it's always been true," he hears in his ears, as the Dreammaster forms to his side, head tilting as the bird's eyes always judge him), then he deserves death.
So Noah does not struggle as his vision leaves him, as sounds grow muted, his world going black as his head droops completely. To the rest of the crew, Noah Haas is yet another corpse on a ship bound for Hell.]
cw violence, burning feathers, so much fucking blood, almost!death
So it should be fine, right?
Noah gives off a nervous smile, a little apprehensive of the greeting, but trying to be cooperative.]
Ah, thank you, Mr. Yang... but technically, this is my first time meeting you.
[And then the second part of Welt's statement hits. It's not fine. It's not fine at all.
Noah doesn't get to argue- blood comes into his mouth as March stabs him in the back, electricity following in its wake. And then she stabs him again. And again. And again-]
Miss March-?! [It hurts. Oh god, oh god, it hurts. Everything burns, everything is bleeding, there is so much pain he can't make heads or tails of it. The jolts of lightning flow through his veins, his nerves, the feathers on his headwings smelling of smoke and blood, and he screams, tears flowing from his eyes as she keeps stabbing him.
Noah doesn't know what to do. He turns and March stabs him in the shoulder. He raises his arms, and she stabs him there too. Every notion of protecting himself, everything that he was taught in order to keep himself safe has fled in an effort to try and get away. But he can't- this corner they're in won't give him a chance, as March has blocked the exit.
There is so much red that blossoms across his clothes, decorates his chest like a bundle of spider lilies blooming in the fall. He staggers, feet losing balance, ending up haphazardly against the wall as March continues.]
Please- please!! [Noah's voice is begging, pleading.] Why??? Why are you doing this!?!? [A part of his body is numb, he can't feel his legs, the pain is there but he no longer has the capacity to acknowledge it.
...
...is this what it's like to die?
There's nothing left in him to try and run, or to try and fight back. Noah just desperately tries to reason with a hallucination and someone who no longer has their sanity. Weakly;] I'm not- [Sunday.] I'm not-!! [Sunday.
He sinks against the wall, blood trailing after him like paint, screams turning to whimpers, which eventually go silent as well. His brain plays over and over again how Welt accuses him of needing to face some hardship, of people calling him Sunday, always Mr. Sunday. Noah is not Sunday. He's not, he can't-
...maybe it doesn't matter, in the end. He still did those things, past life or not. He still trapped Penacony in an endless dream in Ena's embrace. Still forced his wish upon others to ease people's burdens in one of the worst ways possible. Chose Order over Harmony, fought for a twisted reason that he truly thought was viable.
If that's true ("It's true, it's always been true," he hears in his ears, as the Dreammaster forms to his side, head tilting as the bird's eyes always judge him), then he deserves death.
So Noah does not struggle as his vision leaves him, as sounds grow muted, his world going black as his head droops completely. To the rest of the crew, Noah Haas is yet another corpse on a ship bound for Hell.]