I can't drown my demons (Open Catch-All)

[dirtyredneck]

WHO:Daryl Dixon and You!
WHERE:Heropa, Nonah, De Chima
WHEN:All of September
WHAT:Catch-All for the month; Daryl deals with the side effects of his new powers, specific starters in the comments
WARNINGS:Language, some gore(marked), others tbd



4th-10th, Outskirts of De Chima
Daryl remembered nothing between heading out Saturday morning and quite suddenly finding himself in the Porter chamber one day later with a fresh file folder being handed over to him as he came to. What he read in the file as he was escorted out made him decide not to go home. Either of them. He had the car drop him off at the city porter and from there he went straight to the woods. A place he knew few people frequented and he could destroy things in peace. Mostly the papers of the file and his own hands as punched some trees. After that he just kind of kept to himself and around the makeshift camp he'd set up. Close enough to the edges of town to head back in a couple times for basic supplies he'd neglected to take with him.

A bottle of water here, some bandages there for now-healing knuckles. A bar of soap for the hand baths he was doing. Nothing to help the smell of his clothes after three days, but short of going back home and changing, he couldn't do a lot about that. He avoided engaging in much else. But as long as he didn't see one of his people from back home, he didn't hurry off from anyone risking the smell to say hi.


After the 10th
The Cities
Daryl had just bought himself the blandest hot dog he could find and walked off from the vendor. He'd tried three others piled high with relish and ketchup and mustard, then just ketchup and relish, then just ketchup. Each of them had been too much for him to handle and he was hoping, silently praying to a God he'd ceased to believe in out of habit alone, that he'd be able to choke this dog down and have to resort to buying a pack of uncooked ones from the store just to eat today.

He very carefully took a cautious bite and at first things seemed fine. The flavor of the bread stood out the most. But then the cooked meat his his tongue and it just tasted wrong. The tiniest bit of char made the whole thing taste like it;d been burned to a crisp. Daryl ended up choking the bite back up and spat it out to the ground at his feet. The clump of half-chewed hot dog and bun splattering as it hit the ground.

Daryl hadn't been aware of the person passing and/or approaching him when he did it, but as he bent over to pick it up, he gave a clearly embarrassed and quiet, "Sorry." before finding the nearest trash bin and grumpily tossing both the half-eaten bit and the rest of the dog inside. He just wanted to eat one damn meal without feeling like he'd need to puke right after.


Heropa, the park (Gore Warning) Open to first responder Closed
Daryl had grown to enjoy the quiet atmosphere of the park and the opportunity to practice his hunting - the tracking mostly - without being too far from family. This morning Daryl had managed to catch a rabbit in a small, humane snare that wasn't meant to kill it. He hadn't killed any animals in the park since he got there. It was illegal and after his arrest for fighting with Ronan a week after his arrival, he'd been far more conscientious about the laws of the land.

Today that might change. He was holding the rabbit - a tiny, quivering bundle of nerves already to the point of just staying as still as possible in its fear - in both hands, petting it gently. But he was staring at it hard and every now and then his tongue moved out to wet his slightly parted lips. Seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world with his intense focus.

His thoughts, for those of the mind reading sort, flashed with images of biting into it's grey-furred side and ripping the meat out while it screamed it's little bunny scream. Blood running down his face while he chewed on the raw flesh. Daryl was both gut-wrenchingly revolted by them and tempted at the same time. The hunger was harder to fight the longer he put off eating something still living.


Wildcard
Daryl is scarce around his usual haunts from the 4th to the 10th, but after that can be found regularly in Heropa, Nonah, and De Chima acting a little weird.

For those that know him, Daryl looks a lot more on edge than normal as he goes about his business. His shoulders are near constantly-hunched, his eyes wider and his head faster to whip around at even the slightest sounds like they're echoing in his ears. It's surprisingly easy to sneak up on him on accident or otherwise. Just because he could hear a lot more didn't mean he was good at figuring out how far away it was. Yet. A coin falling to the ground twenty feet away was as just about as loud to him as the man in front of him clearing his throat. Footfalls were all pounding sounds that blended together.

Hit him up if you'd like.

[[OOC: Action or prose is fine. Will match.]]

Comments

September 1st Closed to Tiny Tina

[dirtyredneck]

[He'd managed to arrange for Bow-Man Hunting to get some time at an old quarry a few miles north of Nonah within a couple hours of talking to Tiny Tina. It was more than the ten minutes he'd asked her for, but it was theirs for the day. The team that came with him for legal reasons were curious about what kind of target practice he'd be doing in a rock quarry with a crossbow, but after Tina arrived, it quickly became obvious the crossbow would be making very little appearances.

Daryl himself stared at Tina for a long moment when she showed up and greeted her with a gruff and only slightly surprised:]

Yer younger than I thought you'd be.

[pandorasboombox]

[Tina doesn't really walk up from her hired cab to Daryl after shoving some unknown amount of bills in the driver's general direction. She full on skips. Arms swinging, blood-splattered mask worn like a hair ribbon on the side of her head bouncing lightly.]

Age got nothin' to do with the junk in my trunk, friendo. Really. In the trunk of the cab. I gotta whole bag of shit, go, go, go. Grab it. I'm gonna set up.

[dirtyredneck]

[Daryl stayed where he was for a second while she moved past him to start her set up. Completely confident he'd do as told. It actually brought a small smirk of amusement to his lips before moved off and did as she'd asked. He grabbed the bag out of the trunk, not at all surprised at the weight considering the kind of weapons she'd been implying she had, and wondered if she'd been granted super strength as one of her powers. That or she coaxed the taxi driver into loading it.

He told said driver to get going as he passed. They weren't going to pay him to sit around and the 'Bow company could drive Tina back to the city same as they drove him out of it.

Daryl brought the bag over to her, set it down, and bent over to open it up.]

What kind of junk you got in here?

[pandorasboombox]

[ It isn't really a comforting laugh she gives, it's not even definitely a sane one. But it's excited. She's stacking a few rock piles here and there, humming to herself slightly as she makes 'bodies' to hit with the girls. ]

First course are the rockettes sisters. Right on top, right there. Big blue ears. Raise those hands, girls!

[And, when he opens the bag, ears there are. Lots of ears. All belonging to a variety of clearly hand-stitched Frankenstein versions of stuffed animals. Bears, bunnies, half and half ones, a few cats. Each stuffed animal attached to some form of explosive or gun.

The 'Rockette Sisters,' two blue bunnies with only three eyes between them with spines apparently made of, well, small rockets, actually each lift a hand in greeting when Daryl looks at them.]

Mid-September Closed to Richie Foley

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl was not the sort to seek out anyone for technological needs. Not because he was some sort of genius with computers, but because he figured if he couldn't do something without one it wasn't worth him trying to do. But that was him. It was not the same for all those he thought of as 'his'. One in particular, in this case.

The first time he walked past the kid he'd ignored him almost completely. Just sent a glare his way for trying to shove a flyer in his face. Took the stupid paper, crumpled it up and walked off with it balled into his fist.

The second time he came near, he had that same flyer flattened out as best he could while his eyes scanned the advertisement written there. His thumb up near his mouth as he chewed on it gave him an unintentionally less threatening appearance. But he didn't cop the same attitude he'd had before when he put his hand down and looked at the kid, waving the paper, "You advertisin' for yourself or someone else?"

[gearshifting]

Richie had been going all over the town, handing out the flyers for the last week or so, hoping to make some extra cash. He didn't want to make people suspicious, but he did need the money if he was going to get anything done. He might be able to build with next to nothing but he still couldn't build something out of nothing.

So he'd been smiling and being as charming as possible while he hands out flyers offering his tech services. He fixes computers! Toasters! Microwaves! Vacuum cleaners! He'll even build you a new tower from the ground up! Never turns down an emergency call. Free diagnostics and estimates. Maybe he came across a tiny bit desperate, but hey, maybe some people will buy that.

He heard a voice and turned his head to see a guy he was sure would have kept walking and not looked back. After he crumpled up the flyer, he'd just chalked him up to a loss and moved on to a nice old lady who looked like she could use some help carrying things to her car and admitted she knew nothing about how to clean viruses off her home desktop. Easy stuff.

"Uh," he blinks in surprise for a second before turning that big grin back on. "Me! I mean, yeah, this is for me. Fix-it Foley, will do house calls. Uh...what were you needing done?"

[dirtyredneck]

"Nothin'," Daryl answered, lowering the flyer and looking the kid over a little more thoroughly. "Ain't for me. Got someone I know said they need to 'expand the server space' of the computer they're using. Also talked about needing a 'host processor'."

Both times he said something in quotes it was pretty obvious he was doing that because of how he slowed down and scrunched his brows as he said the words, making sure he got them right as he focused on remembering them. He didn't really know what they meant the way a tech-head would. Like Eugene probably would have. But he could remember requests well enough and knew the value of using the exact wording he was given when passing them on.

Mid-September Closed to Tobias Matthews

[dirtyredneck]

Rick didn't work in the mall anymore, but Daryl was still in the habit of going there. He liked the quiet atmosphere that fell over the place in the last hour of sales. From 8 to 9 the place was like a ghost town during the summer. Nights were easier in Heropa in general, but at the mall he felt like he was somewhere completely detached from the rest of the world. That, and the fans he'd somehow amassed didn't tend to harrass him when he was here. They stuck mostly to De Chima and the few fans he had in Heropa were content to take pictures of him from afar. Not that he did much in the mall that was noteworthy since Rick's dePortation. The bullshit gossip about his love life suggested he stuck around because it reminded him of his now-gone lover and so far his presence in the place tended toward the boring.

Which he was perfectly content with. He needed the peace, the quiet. His senses got overwhelmed so quickly now. He'd been learning to drown out the unwanted noises by sitting close to other things that made a more pleasant background sound. Like the fountain in the center of the mall. Sitting near it drowned out the thudding heartbeats of those that passed within a couple dozen feet of him. And the less he thought about beating hearts, the hot blood they pumped through flesh that would warm his mouth with it's sure to be lucious flavor... Fuck. He hated this new power the porter had damned him with.

Daryl cursed under his breath, rubbed at his eyes, and sat up to look around. Maybe if he hit the food court he could get some bland as shit bread to stave off his sudden hunger.

thanks so much! this is perfect

[hisheartsdesire]

It's been a while since Toby last spent off time wandering about Heropa. By now, he's explored the parks and beaches often enough that he's quite familiar with them. As for the mall? Well, he's been there only a precious few times, and now he's there because of one of those sudden, intermittent Florida downpours. No thanks, he'd rather not get all soaked.

To Toby, the mall seems surprisingly quiet and empty, but only because malls always seem so crowded in media, video games, and so on. How many other malls are so empty and lifeless? All the same, it's not something he's unused to. Abandoned places, like his flat in that converted church... Ah, those were good memories.

Eventually, he reaches the fountain in the center of the mall. It's still surprising to see that no one's around except for someone sat at the fountain-side. A familiar face, though they've never actually met before. Toby's heard of Daryl Dixon, maybe seen him a couple of times here and there. Always thought the guy was a looker and felt disappointed there wouldn't be any figurines anytime soon. (Because damn.)

Well, it can't hurt to say hello, right? Toby waves, unsure if Daryl notices him before he approaches. Although Toby looks human enough and doesn't smell of rotting flesh, his heart almost doesn't beat at all and his blood lacks human warmth and freshness.

"Ah, hello there. Rather quiet evening, I'd say. Is the mall always like this, at these hours?"

[dirtyredneck]

Action figures or no, the gun show was always open. Unintentionally, because Daryl wasn't doing the sleeveless look for anyone else's enjoyment. But it amounted to about the same.

Daryl noticed Toby's advance only because he'd been sitting up and caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. The guy walked like a ghost with the fountain drowning out his footsteps. And his heartbeat... didn't seem to exist. Weird. Even the mom and kid that had passed a good half hour before had heartbeats he'd heard when they'd gotten that close. Without thinking about it, Daryl inhaled the air around him, testing the odors for that smell the living gave off. The one that had him salivating and hating himself once he got thinking about what it meant for his stomach. But it was strange. The guy didn't have that odor lingering about him. Didn't smell like anything, really. Just a body. Not living, not rotting. Nothing. Like he was a ghost.

Shit. Was he a ghost? This place could have brought some in.

He nodded slowly at the question, giving the man a confused look that had nothing to do with the fact that Toby was talking to him. Though it probably came across like that.

"During the summer it is. 'Less it's a holiday."

the park... omg no that poor bun

[dreamcatcher]

Sometimes, having enhanced senses is a serious problem. Hearing all her roommates sleep has been really weird and creepy, for example. Also, whatever the hell that noise was. Emma really considers ignoring it and going back to her run. After all, what is she going to do when she figures out what it was? Risking magic on an animal that probably died of natural causes sounds like a pretty stupid idea.

Still, she can't help it, and when she hears it she follows the noise. It's paired with something else, and it unsettles her stomach hearing it even though she doesn't realize what it is until she finds the cause. A man trying to eat a rabbit raw, blood seeping everywhere and the metallic tang assaulting her senses.

"What the hell?" A part of her knows she probably shouldn't confront anyone crazy enough to murder a rabbit with their teeth, yet... here she is. She's frightened and disturbed and uncertain, yet her curse is enough to make her hesitate. Whatever this is, it might not be under his control. If that's the case, he probably feels as scared as she is. That might be her heroic instincts telling tall tales, but Emma would rather believe.

[dirtyredneck]

The sound of a human voice snaps Daryl out of his mental fog. Out of the euphoria he'd somehow found in the hot blood and chewy flesh he was forcing down his throat in long pulls that tore the poor thing open in a way it'd never heal from. He couldn't even remember the moment he'd gone from just thinking about it to doing it.

Panic came next and when he felt like he was going to start shaking, he forced himself to be very still. All his muscles tightened and he froze for a second to deal with his suddenly heavy breathing. The rabbit in his hands was squirming hard and damn if that didn't make the idea of biting into it again all the more attractive. Daryl tried to push that line of thought away and instead forced himself to move his fingers so he could kill the thing with a quick snap of it's neck. It wouldn't have survived if he'd let it go. At least this way it didn't have to suffer more.

With that done he gulped down a shaky breath and packed his things up in a hasty manner. His bow going back over his shoulder, the rabbit into the near empty messenger bag he'd taken to wearing again. The blood on his arms, his mouth, the front of his chest... hell, even the grass he couldn't do much about. But he tried. The red kerchief he kept in his back pocket was whipped out and he started scrubbing himself down as best he could.

He kept his head down and tried to move past the woman, avoiding eye contact, avoiding all contact, really. Even if he was trying not to look like he was in a panic, he was definitely in a panic.

[dreamcatcher]

She winces at the finality of that snap, feeling a little ill as she watches the poor creature go from suffering to silent in a few painful seconds. She turns away to try and collect herself, and that's enough time for Daryl to scramble to collect his things and try to shove off past her. Seriously? She caught him tearing into a living creature with his bare teeth, and he was just going to walk away?

"Hey. Stop." Emma understandably is hesitant to touch him, but the shout after his retreating back is hard to miss. She saw everything, or at least, enough. She's not just going to let him walk away, no matter how badly he doesn't want to have this conversation. "Are you going to explain what that was? What the hell were you thinking?"

The only reason she's giving him any benefit of the doubt is because she knows what it's like to be trapped under something she can't quite control. She can't imagine anyone would ever choose to eat a rabbit raw, to chew on it while it was still alive and squirming in pain. Still, she can only extend doubt so far without an explanation.

De Chima's Outskirts!

[burnseternal]

[Perhaps the forests are infrequently visited by humans, but Saint Walker is no human. When he is not doing his duties, he prefers to venture out into the wilderness, wherever that may be, where he feels truly at home, where he is meant to be. While he may have gotten used to his humble bed, a roof over his head, it has been too long for him to feel as though that is where he should be. Some nights, he doesn't go home at all, simply lies out in the forest, staring at the stars.

On one of the first nights Daryl had been in the forest, he may have heard sounds of another there, nothing more than the plucked chords of a foreign, far-off instrument, but by the end of the evening, it stilled, and it seemed he was alone once more. The night afterwards, however, Daryl will discover the source of the music.

Or, rather, the source of the magic will discover him. He will hear a rustling sound from above, as light as a small animal, but instead of a bird, a rather familiar face peers down at him from the trees. Saint Walker looks as though he belongs there, and doesn't move to get down quite yet, not until he knows for a fact that he's not unwanted.] Hello, there! I hadn't expected anyone to be camping all the way out here.

[dirtyredneck]

Ain't camping.

[Well, he was. Just not there. So technically it was the truth.]

...just walking.

[He was not particularly in the mood to be around other people. The hunger spike when he saw Walker was like a punch to the gut. Not quite as bad as whenever he'd spot one of the birds or squirrels running around. But that probably had to do with the fact that he knew how those tasted. Not that he wanted to find out what Saint Walker tasted like - okay, so there was that feeling in the back of his mind and a gurgle in his gut at the thought of taking a bite - just it helped that he wasn't something Daryl was already familiar with.]

What're you doing out here?

[burnseternal]

The same thing as you, I imagine.

[It's likely unhelpful that Walker gets closer rather than further away as he simply steps off of the branch and lands lightly in front of Daryl, standing as comfortably as if he had been standing there all along instead of hurling himself off of a tree.]

I enjoy it out here, in the relative solitude of this place, away from the crowds. Is it the same for you, or do you have another reason to be here beyond simply walking?

Outskirts of De Chima (i'm so late, i'm sorry!)

[dualismum]

[ Sasaki always leaves the city when he goes to train; after all, he can't train where other people would find him, or where other people could somehow interfere. it's a sort of protection in a way, for himself and others. SO he has found it much better to train far away from people, usually in the middle of the woods because the trees work as obstacles.

That's where he also eats. It's a much more private thing, and obviously NO ONE can ever see him eat for obvious reasons, so he usually takes a container with him and eats after his training to replenish his strength.

And once he is done, sweating and dirty from mud (no blood, at least, Sasaki is very careful with that) from all the training, he heads back to the city. With a bottle of water in his hand and a large bag on his shoulder, he walks through the forest until Saskai hears a sound - it's different an animal.

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but not the ghoul, so he decides to go check it out, and that's how he eventually meets Daryl ]

Oh- Hi. [ that's unexpected ]

You aren't late at all!

[dirtyredneck]

[Daryl had heard the sounds of Sasaki's physical training from a decent distance and had avoided the hell out of the area, thinking it sounded like a bunch of idiots pounding away on each other. His now-enhanced hearing made it easy to tell the direction it was coming from, if not the actual distance, and he went the opposite way while doing a look around for animal tracks. Eventually the sounds died down and he figured whoever was having their fun had stopped and left.

And though he had heard the approach of a single person, Daryl hadn't been able to pinpoint it well. He got a good general sense of the direction it was coming from, just not the exact way and distance. He over estimated the first and underestimated the second as he came around a tree and face to face with the kid that ate people.

Daryl froze, eyes wide. That was not a reminder he needed right then and there. He didn't bother to try and give a greeting in return.

Just stared.]

[dualismum]

[ Luckily for Daryl, Sasaki knows very well that very expression he is showing. He is more than used to it, after all, though most of the time comes with a lot of disdain; that doesn't happen in this world, or at least not commonly, but when it does, it's very easily recognizable by Sasaki.

And he too, knows what to do in these situations.

he rises his hands slowly - even though a ghoul does not attack with their hands, but it's more of a peaceful symbol than to show Daryl he is unarmed. A ghoul is never unarmed, if he was being honest - and steps back to give the man enough room. ]

I'm sorry, I was passing by and I heard noise.

After the 10th: Wildcard; De Chima City Limits

[redshoerevenge]

Thoughts of Gipsy, of connecting and feeling the AI come online, that blast of concentration, the sheer focus, and the burst of energy that came from twining herself around and through her, that's what brought forth the wings. Powering down, disengaging, that is what made the wings vanish. This was as good as any a place to work on the speed and transition.

Her wings burst forth and solidified, collapsed and disappeared, faster and faster. It needed to be as instinctive as any of her katas might have been. It needed to be part of them. So she integrated it into kata after kata, her movements smooth, burst, fold, burst, open, drive forward, burst, slice, dip, stab, kick, punch, burst open.

Faster.

More control, Miss Mori. Always the Marshal's voice when she faltered, when she slipped. Again and again. The wings were not just for flight. They could add power to a punch or kick, rapidly change direction, alter the course of her attack. She must work harder.

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl stood and watched the woman doing her thing in the overgrown parking lot of what was once probably a Piggly Wiggly or something like it. The place had been stripped down before it's abandonment. And eerie reminder of how very different this world was from his, where the majority of abandoned buildings were only abandoned because everyone that once used them were dead. Not because it'd been intentional. Not like this.

Her focus was intense enough he could stay leaning against a tree at the edge of the lot watching her without ever drawing her notice. As long as he didn't move much more than the tree did in the wind, anyway. He'd heard her long before he'd seen her and had intended to swing wide around the lot on his way back out to the woods. But the wings popping in and out as she moved drew his attention. Got him to stop and watch.

She looked like a ninja and an angel at the same time. Moving in ways he could only dream of. Not that he did. He was fine with how he fought. Knew it well. But it was still a sight to behold.

When she finally stopped for a moment to catch her breath and get some water, Daryl pushed himself off the tree and started toward her. Figured the sudden change in movement would catch her eye long before he got to her.

"You fly with those, or they just for show?" he called out when he was close enough know she'd seen him and he didn't have to shout.

[redshoerevenge]

He was right, she'd caught the motion and it let her change gears.

"They work. I'm still not very good with the lift off from the ground," she said, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat away as she downed a long swallow of water. "I have jumped, been dropped, and flown before." Mako grinned and squinted a little.

"I liked it." Her head tilted to get a good look at him. "The more I practice, the easier it is." She pops her wings out again and opens them wide. Mako can't get over the fact that they're different colors, but it makes sense in a way. One orange, one blue, like a reminder of the jaeger pilot split that controlled Gipsy and brought her to life. They're energy and not, because when she curves them around her, they're solid and she can feel her fingers on them.

It's nothing like she'd expected.

WILDCARD ▸ heropa past the 10th, hope this works!!

[aojona]

[ Unfortunately for Daryl, Pablo is quiet enough that accidentally sneaking up on people is pretty common for him; he has a light step, but also tends to just hang around places silently, often for quite a while before people notice that he's there -- so any noise he does make might well fall behind every other sound.

Not knowing Daryl, though, Pablo doesn't take notice of him right away, lost in his own world as Pablo often tends to be. For once, though, it's not painting he's preoccupied with; living with Manolo, his musician roommate, has been inspiring Pablo lately to try returning to lyric and poetry writing, so throughout the day he's been taking notes as things occur to him -- his white shirt is covered with scattered notes and experimental phrases in both Spanish and English, as are his legs below the hems of his shorts. Notebooks? The thought didn't occur to him.

Sitting on the curb by the corner of the same street, Pablo happens to glance up right at a moment when Daryl is acting particularly strangely -- startled or stopping short or otherwise in some way visibly anxious or paranoid -- and blinks curiously, silently observing for, well, a while (far be it for him to ever keep track, or notice if he's staring at someone too long or too intensely) before there's a small pop as he uncaps his pen with his teeth and begins writing on himself more, inspired in some way by that moment, by what he just saw. Hopefully that isn't rude or something. ]

My apologies for the delay, I've been having computer issues the last while

[dirtyredneck]

[If the kid hadn't been staring at him, watching him for a while, Daryl would never have noticed him the way he was. Sitting across the street acting like one of the 'crazy' men you'd see in movies sometimes. And hell, if he hadn't gone and written on himself right after he'd had a long look at Daryl, Daryl would probably have just ignored him altogether.

But as the kid's head dropped and he got into his words, Daryl went ahead and crossed the street right to him. The sun was at the right angle for Daryl's shadow to cover him and he used it to his advantage as he glared downward.]

What're you writing about me?

[It did not help him right then and there that the smell of the marker could now curl into his nose. It stunk and if he wasn't as focused as he was on looking intimidating, he might have gagged.]

not a problem!

[aojona]

[ It's unfortunately not uncommon for Pablo to give off that impression, although it's not his intention to cause any upset. He manages decently well, all things considered, but navigating his own existence in the world at any given point in time in relation to other people is...

He has yet to really figure that out, basically. Pablo doesn't look up immediately even after Daryl's shadow falls over him -- not until he's finished writing what he's writing. Then his dark eyes flick upward, calmly and unreadably, to meet Daryl's. ]

Um... [ Pablo considers the question, recapping the pen, then points to the words. ] Le habían echado mal de ojo, llevar la procesión por dentro. It's not refined yet or anything, I'm still pretty rusty. I just, um-- you know, wanted to grasp the feeling. It means, like...

[ He pauses, gaze dropping for a moment, then says in a very slow but to-the-point kind of way, as if he's translating from a book and not what he himself just wrote. ]

"He was cursed, so he kept his suffering to himself." Or, you know, something like that?