[ Again, this is resoundingly familiar. His headache starts from the base of his shrapnel and travels down to phantom fingertips that he feels over his prosthetic, the lost limb that asserts itself every so often when certain topics are brought up.
That stolid expression flits downwards for a second to adjust to the dull pain, molars gritting imperceptibly as his faulty memories hit him with secondhand emotions. A slight deviation from his placidity, but nothing too alarming. ]
—Then you're just going to have to decide for yourself, where you want your grave to be.
[ Because Venom relates, in a way that he knows is futile. He's been sold, he's been dead from the moment he'd stepped in front of Big Boss and felt his own flesh burn— and one day, his physical self will finally be removed from the equation, and even his ashes will be confiscated to remove the proof that he existed.
Resignation was somehow easier for him than the alternative, though, so there it is. He's not exactly the best person to ask for advice about autonomy. ]
no subject
That stolid expression flits downwards for a second to adjust to the dull pain, molars gritting imperceptibly as his faulty memories hit him with secondhand emotions. A slight deviation from his placidity, but nothing too alarming. ]
—Then you're just going to have to decide for yourself, where you want your grave to be.
[ Because Venom relates, in a way that he knows is futile. He's been sold, he's been dead from the moment he'd stepped in front of Big Boss and felt his own flesh burn— and one day, his physical self will finally be removed from the equation, and even his ashes will be confiscated to remove the proof that he existed.
Resignation was somehow easier for him than the alternative, though, so there it is. He's not exactly the best person to ask for advice about autonomy. ]
Your name?