He was just at the hospital to pick something up for Dr. Kurosawa when he came across Azrael who, honestly, did not seem to be in great shape. "Hey, Doc, you don't look too great..." he mumbled. Great Jace, you stated the obvious. Well... maybe staying five more minutes would not hurt too much... after all, he did have a lot of respect for doctors, especially those caring for children.
"You know, uhm... I'm sure it is a sad job a lot of the time, if you lose a patient and stuff, but... you know, you give those kids a fighting chance and that is more than a lot of us could ask for, really." Jace gave somewhat of a comforting smile. "I just- I have been a patient. in a place like this." Actually, he had also died, but that he did not say, "...and while sure, you see the bigger picture of what could have been and of a life ending too soon, they don't. For them, you were there anytime they needed you, probably comforted them when no one else did, you did everything you could to not only save their lives but also to make them better while they were in your care and they know that. They died knowing that. And honestly, that is worth more than you can probably imagine. Having someone who believes in you even if you yourself are too tired for that... it's a nice feeling." 

Jace awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "I know it's an old stupid saying, but you really can not save everyone. And I know that doesn't make things any easier or better, but know that you not only do save a lot of people, but you also give those you can not save comfort and a chance to pass on in a peaceful and caring environment. Which feels very nice..." wait, why did he know that? "Anyway, uhm, I'm sorry I suck at comforting people, just... some insights from the other perspective, I guess. You are a wonderful person for doing what you do, despite all the pain you face and the losses you endure."

He might have been drowning a little in his sorrow, so much so that he did not hear Roderick until he was right in front of him. Sure, the voice in his head had been getting louder, but he paid it no mind... as much as he could. Once he did notice the mafioso he quickly closed his hand around the earing, lightly poking it into his palm in doing so. While the man's appearance was certainly intimidating he seemed... calm. Calm enough for Jace to not flinch and instead just listen about the stranger's speech about nature and all its beauty. He was right, of course. It was beautiful. Today was a pleasant day, one of those that were neither too warm nor too cold, the rays of sunlight making the water's surface glitter like in one of those nature movies and the little fish... well, now he felt bad for probably scaring them. Had that been on his mind? No. But now that Roderick mentioned it he got to appreciate it at least a little... it was probably a better thing to think about than what was on his mind otherwise. 

Of course he could not tell how high the man's spirits were compared to his usual demeanour, but he seemed... pleasant right now. That much even Jace could tell. So when Roderick's monologue hit an awkward pause he smiled, as much as he could when he rather felt like crying. Still, it was genuine. He appreciated the stranger trying to talk to him and maybe cheer him up? He was not sure, but he was grateful nonetheless.
"Nono, it's fine." he reassured, looking back at the lake for a moment. "It is very beautiful and something that should be appreciated more." Only now it hit him... "I'm sorry if I scared the fish away you were trying to watch..." Maybe that was why he had been approached in the first place? No, the explanation came quicker than Jace could lose his mind about this possibility. 

"Thank you for that..." he smiled faintly, looking back at the mafioso next to him. "I don't want to be a bother..." ...he had just said he would listen, you dense catboy, "...it just has been... a rough day, I guess." Now he was wondering how far he would have to go back to make his words make sense. "I- I would talk about it, if you don't mind..." That was no way to make friends but he might as well take the offer, right? "It'll probably sound stupid though..." he warned, before finally getting to the point, "It's... I have been sick most of my life, you know? Like... I spent most of my life in hospitals sick." oh boy, here we go... "...anyway, it's just background information, shit happens I guess and I mean, I'm here so I got that going for me or something... but thing is, most friends I had were from the hospital and well, the survivability of some illnesses isn't exactly great. And I mean... most days I don't mind being alone too much, you know? But somedays it's a bit sad wanting to talk to someone but everyone you knew is just... dead." Yeah, he was great with words. 

Jace opened his fist again, as it had gotten too tight around the earring and he was afraid he would break it. "This is basically the only thing I have left of them and I mean, I guess the advice here would be to make new friends or something, but it's not that easy. I can't exactly... go back to my life before. I've just traded an old sickness for a new one and I'm not sure if that was a good idea. Some days I think-" he sighed. No, that would be too dark. "...nevermind. If you want to talk about nature or something again... I'd listen..." it sounded more like he was asking Roderick to actually do that, because at least it was a distraction and he could ignore the fact that he had just dumped all that on a poor unsuspecting stranger who probably just wanted to be nice. "...I'm sorry..."

As the flashes of daunting memories brutally impaled the mafioso’s head, he stretched across the concrete floor, where his combat boots had hastily and vigorously skipped from one position to the other. The Scottish-Italian man was on the run, escaping the building facility that distanced him just almost a block away. His dingy olive eyes abnormally dilated, as nothing but the piercing, thick thorns of guilt and shame constricted so maliciously against his skin.. It swirls and extends with no limits, almost like the whetted, razor edge of a dagger, leaving him no opportunity for him to lift himself off the depths of brackish, baneful waters of where he’d drown and painfully stifle to his demise. His jaws stiffen up, as he sprinted across the concrete path, brisk puffs of air escaping out of his chest as he kept darting at his purest. He never grasped upon the courage to even turn back, as the fierce rancor left him and his boss completely estranged. Though, this estrangement.. Wasn’t just the ordinary affairs between a boss and an employee, it was more than that, in fact. Enough for him to escape out of the facility, without a second thought as the emotionally scarring memories thrusted him at such excruciating force. It was more painful than a minor stinging cut, the throbbing pressure against your head, even a large haemorrhaging gash ugily running against your skin. Too painful, in fact, as it was a wrenched gargantuan bash of cold memories sickening his courage, his confidence, his happiness, it sorely sickens everything within him, including the subtle smidge of warmth in his blue raspberry veins scoring on his flesh. He couldn’t take it, no.. He just couldn’t! He couldn’t take anymore of the heartwrenching reprimand that left gashes and gouges deeply scored against his aging, limestone skin.

Even if it had been more than 20 years ago, the memories were sealed onto the wrinkled folds of his brain, mold rots to the core only for him to convince himself that he might’ve been deranged. 

It was only time the Boss had scolded him, distinguishing the guilt and shame seeping so excessively into Roderick’s blood, poisoning him as the portrait of his dead adoptive son’s face had plastered onto mind. He couldn’t erase it off his head, especially with the task that he must do, with someone notoriously young and frail, stepping into the light of dawn where the monstrous grandeur of a creature only took him and his life. Why..? Why would anyone so young have to be subjected to this, just for the sake of money? The worst of all, is that he never retained the opportunity to freely flee and search for a completely new job. But as the mentality goes, he had to do it for his own finances, no matter how much pain it cost him in the end. No matter how much the Boss could remind you to remain strong or else the spine-chilling punishment that loomed behind him would strike behind him any moment.. The punishment of killing his beloved cat, taking away all his finances, and burning his house. It was something that made him chatter against his brittle nails, that made him tearfully wail for mercy in his head, it dwindled so eerily into his head, as it sank so agonizing against his gut.

Unfortunately, that was what matters where, after establishing a contract like that in the Mafia, that is. After so many years of dedicating yourself to a jail gang only for it to develop into such a deceptive, malicious business. It was like a pair of rabid raccoons, mugging your greatest possessions and using them for who knows what. Perhaps, a bit more than that, as the Yellow Phantom Organization was like any Mafia business. 

Despite fighting his shortness of breath, the mafioso proceeds to keep on bolting at his fullest. He knew far too well that he had to escape, he had to flee from the hell that the beast itself had dragged him into. Even if that beast had loomed behind him, unsheathing the whetted machete had sneered at him.. Just like how the beast had sneered at him and bombarded him with the dumbest of taunts, striking him at the core at such great force. Well, too great of a force, really. It was too much.. Enough for him to have his standing stoic face and crumble feebly like porcelain. The face of genuine tenuousness had been revealed, no matter how he put effort into assembling the pieces all together on his facade.. Despite the pieces having no ability to mold itself back. His dingy olive eyes, lacking any vibrant radiation, had only begun to softly moisten, the throbbing tumor ascending to the center of his throat. The tension, the pain, it all jolted through the countenance of his lip, wincing with each second he slipped his foot against the hard, rugged concrete. Roderick eventually stops his own tracks, hastily jolting his head as beads of sweat and brisk breaths escape out of him.. The deep racing of his own hearts were tremors that scaled down his own body. To the bones and rib cage, it was all dangerously tremulous. 

Spotting a narrow, fusty alleyway opening between the walls, Roderick hastily scuttles himself up. He heavily pants, his hefty hands feebly quivering as his palms were all clammy.. Only worse that the elastic blackened fabric of his gloves absorbed it all. Not that the mafioso seemed to care however, as tremors and tension fiercely jolted through him.. It was more than just simple discomfiture, it was all just the whiplash of guilt, shame, and grief ferociously plunging at him at his best.. After all, the profuse amounts of melancholy, self-blame and fury had condensed into a deranged amalgamate of a beast, poisoning him with that same image of his deceased son’s innocent, loving face.. His laddie, who he referred him as, a loved one that trailed off the Earth in such unfortunate demise.. That same child whom he was assigned such cruelty to just a few hours ago, he couldn’t. No.. he couldn’t erase him out of his mind, no matter how much he strived to do so, to forge even, he genuinely had convinced himself that he was the monster after all, the responsibility of genocide of his loved ones. Especially for his son.. Why couldn't he? It all stung him so immensely, leaving him in such a saddening state of wretchedness. He had no right to love or do anything after all, especially now that he’s a criminal. As a matter of fact, it’s been no more than 20 years that he had been a criminal.. Deathly plunged by the terror of having to be bombarded back to prison. No, it was not an experience that he’d want to live again.

The distraught Scotsman leans himself against the cold brick wall behind him, lifting up his own head down as his lips feebly quivered. His eyes had slowly begun to moisten up, as the trembles escalated each and every second. He fixates his own moistening eyes upon the open sky gregariously stretched out in front of him.. The only ray of light sparking up the fusty, and dim halls of the eerie alleyway. He proceeds to pant, attempting to collect his breath and himself so that the waterworks won’t slip up on him.. Even if that possibility was about to be soon, considering all that Roderick had to absorb and just.. Take in. It was too much for him, far too much, the taunts and reprimands of that same amalgamate had thrust him with. Only for him to finally pinpoint.. That he deserved the fate that was from 20 years ago until now, after all. The more his feeble self had begun to convince these taunts and sneers from that baneful creature, he.. Believed it. He was nothing but a failure, after all, just the scum of the Earth.. With no right of being this planet, ever. 

Defeated in dismay, he hunches his head down. His bagged, weary eyes softly scrunching up as his lips began to subtly curl down into a frown, no matter how he attempts to stifle a countenance of bereavement and shame. Warm tears began to spring into the corners of his eyes, deluging against his lids as they glistened within the light. He lowers his head down, balling up his face as he stiffens his own posture. Roderick’s lips only begin to quiver, as small warm tears trail down through the curves of his cheeks, raining down and being caught by the fabric of his henley shirt. Engulfed by his own dismay and grief, his face softly scrunches up as more tears messily trickle down his cheeks, only for him to rain down and crash next to his feet. Roderick sniffles, swiping his hand to sloppily wipe the warm tears peaking down his cold, bumpy cheeks. He finally gazes at his own palm, moistened by the glistening tears he swept off his face. He drops his hand, his tear-struck face scrunching up as he releases a few airy sobs from his chest. Roderick proceeds to linger there, now seeming to be confined in his own mess of tears, releasing what had been bottled up for perhaps.. Several months now. Something normalized from him, already. Crying was always something he looked down upon, despite its benefits.

Why couldn’t he redeem himself? He couldn’t just be in peace, or do something good for himself.. Just for once. Perhaps, his presence was never meant to be and was nothing but a devalued human being. He was nothing but that.. Even if he managed to accept it a long time ago, it all stung to just face it all. Just perhaps, he really was a child abuser.

The beginning of a new year was always accompanied by grand celebrations everywhere, people being cheerful and drinking... or just one of the two... well, anyway, it was beautiful but with the new beginnings came old goodbyes and memories of the ones long gone. And well, he knew some people... okay, he just had a gut feeling and wanted to check on En because by now he knew him a little (at the very least) and he wanted to make sure the king was fine.
It was no surprise to see this part of the palace as empty as it was, it seemed like En to give his employees time off on occasions they could spend with their loved ones. For once it was a good thing that he knew his way around here, he thought. Sure, it was not the most elegant thing to avoid detection as much as he could, but if it spared people the worries of an intruder in the palace it hopefully was somewhat okay. He promised he was not there to do anything bad. 

Some turns and hallways later he finally caught a glance of the familiar white hair and made his way towards En. To make sure he was not startling him he gently knocked against the glass door before stepping outside. "I figured I'd find you somewhere around here..." Lior smiled. The air around this felt heavy, not necessarily with grief, but with memories. Maybe melancholic... he remembered he had a similar feeling when they first met. To a degree he felt like he was interrupting something. Time with the dead was usually spent alone and in silence and he, of course, respected that.
"I'm sorry for sneaking in here..." the elf carefully stated. "I-I was just... thinking about you and figured I might as well try to visit..." he explained. Trying to hide the changing hue of his cheeks and looking at En was difficult to combine, but he decided the latter was more important right now, so he just once awkwardly glanced at his own feet before looking back at the king's face. "If you don't mind my company, that is. I understand if you would rather be alone." Lior smiled. And he meant that. In a fleeting moment of confidence he gently placed his hand over En's, maybe to indicate that he would just be silent this time around.

Lior's ears twitched once he heard a voice seemingly addressing him and he hummed a little "Mmmhm." despite not actually understanding what had been said, he was sure it would be fine. He was drifting off again when the man now across from him continued to talk. Slowly the elf pulled himself back into the presence to listen to Carl, greeting his words with a small, somewhat empty smile. "S-sure why n-not..." he mumbled. The man seemed genuinely friendly and trying his best, Lior appreciated that, despite not really wanting to talk about any of this.
"I-I don't think it's s-something that gets better when talked about..." he said honestly, his smile more convincing this time (they had both been genuine). "But I think sitting here and admiring the landscape would be nice." the elf added, to make sure he did not sound unwelcoming. He was sure it would be nice to sit here with Carl, he seemed pleasant to be around. Quiet and calm... though that was just a fleeting first impression, of course.

Carl jumped when Kazue sat down beside him, blinking wordlessly then glancing at the book of cat pictures. Grateful to be stuck in the library… It was a fair point, he had to admit. While he might have preferred to be someplace he could hide under blankets with no shame, if he had to be in public during a storm, at least he was trapped in a library. 

“...Carl.” He murmured finally, trying to be polite despite the circumstances. He picked his book back up, making sure to keep his fingers splayed to cover the embarrassing title. The momentary startle had been enough to jump-start his mind, getting him back on track. He would never say it, but having someone there reading- if flipping through pictures could be called reading- beside him was oddly comforting. Nothing could beat his blanket fort, of course, but this was certainly less terrible than waiting out the storm alone.

Solita sat on a bench with her knees pulled up to her chest, a position she was only in because she wasn't in her usual dress. She had a deep frown on her face, and listening to the trees leaves rustling in the wind she only felt the cold embrace of loneliness surrounding her. She wasn't used to feeling so bad, at least not like this. Sure, she's felt this feeling numerous times in her life, especially when she was still living with her mother, but nonetheless it scared her. She hoped that she would have gotten used to it by now, but she had not, and it just amplified these feelings so much more. 

The truth was, the loneliness was starting to get to her. And it was starting to get to her bad. It was eating away at her on the inside, plaguing her mind and her every thought. She was starting to become convinced that she was the very root of the problem, and those thoughts made her feel even worse. But there was simply nothing that she could do, and so she was forced to sit around and waste away every single day. It was hard, feeling so terrible, and what was even harder was that she had no one to talk to about these feelings. 

But your honesty is why no one wants to associate with you in the first place. She scrunched her eyes shut as her brain brewed up yet another lie. It wasn't a new lie, by any means, but it sure did sting. It stung more than anything. She wished she could just get rid of such thoughts, but she had no idea how she could do so. All she could hope for was someone who wouldn't run away from her for once. It wasn't like she tried hurting people with her excruciatingly brutal honesty. She wasn't one to keep much to herself, and people didn't like that. She only wondered why. Wouldn't everyone much rather her be flat-out and honest with them than... lie to their face? Who would want everything said to them to be sugarcoated? Solita always appreciated honesty, even when it hurt. Why couldn't everyone else be this way too? 

What a dumb, dumb problem to always think about. She was certainly blowing it way out of proportion. But one person simply wasn't enough for her. Not for her. she needed many people there for her, people to go to when she couldn't always talk to someone else. The boredom she faced otherwise was excruciating and painful. She was beginning to think that it was always going to be this way though. She was always going to be alone until the day that she died. 

Thoughts like these are the thoughts that eventually broke her. Solita could feel her throat close up, could feel her heart banging loudly inside of her chest. She struggled to control the tears. It wasn't often that she lost her composure like this, especially not in public when she was having her alone time, but it happened nonetheless. She couldn't help but to cry. And cry she most certainly did. She was a little louder than she may have liked to be, and she was trying her best to keep it in. But this wasn't an easy task, especially when she'd been feeling like this for what felt like centuries... she'd certainly been feeling this way for her whole life. 

It was taking more of a toll on her than she would like to admit. She was beginning to feel hopeless, and it wasn't often that Solita, of all people, lost hope.

Solita looked up at the girl besides her, roughly wiping away the tears from her face. She couldn't help but to give Lola a tiny yet genuine smile of gratitude, because someone to sit besides her and show they even remotely cared was what she'd needed in such a moment. Taking a shaky breath, Solita lowered her legs and sat properly, a habit that she always fell back on whenever anyone else was around her. Brushing some of her hair out of her face, she was silent for a moment. Not because she didn't want to talk to Lola. Of course she was going to talk to her; Solita couldn't let such a sweet girl be ignored, especially since that wasn't anywhere in Solita's nature. She simply had to take a second so that she could compose herself. She felt a little embarrassed having been caught sobbing on a bench, but Solita ignored that embarrassment as much as she could. 

Finally, rubbing her arm, she looked back at Lola. She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment, considering just what she wanted to say to her, but then she let out a rather long sigh. 

"Thank you," She started softly, though her voice wobbled and cracked slightly. Clearing her throat, Solita continued. "I - I appreciate everything you said. Even if you don't quite know... what to say. You're sweet." She looked away, staring at what seemed to be nothing. Her mind was racing and her cheeks were uncomfortably sticky from the dried tears which she'd wiped away. Rubbing her hands on her pants, she licked her lips and looked back at Lola. "Trust me, you are not being a bother one bit. I'm more than glad that someone so sweet decided to attempt to make me feel better. This is exactly what I needed, actually, so don't worry about how good at this you are or not."

She sat forward and she clasped her hands together, looking away from Lola yet again. She had no idea what she should say to her. She didn't want to burden her at all, but she took the time out of her day to comfort her so perhaps she wouldn't. Then again maybe she felt obligated... Solita was able to stop such thoughts right in their tracks now. Which felt more than good because she didn't want her brain to cause more tears. That was simply the last thing that Solita wanted and needed, especially in this moment. She had to stay calm, composed, couldn't break down into a mess again. She didn't want Lola to feel any more awkward and helpless than she may have already felt. So now she was trying her very hardest not to let the negative thoughts overtake her brain, and she looked at Lola again with a totally blank face, her default expressionless expression. 

"I may not seem grateful that you're here but I promise I am." Solita reassured her. "All that matters to me is that you care enough to sit down with me and talk to me a little. That means everything to me, especially right now. I think..." She hesitated now, and she lowered her eyes in thought. She wasn't sure if she should ask Lola to do anything, especially since she had no idea if the girl had things to do and places to be, but she didn't want her to leave just yet. Maybe it was wrong of Solita to ask her to stay with her for a little while, but she didn't quite know if she would last very long on her own again. She didn't want to cry anymore. "If it's not too much trouble for me to ask, do you think you could just sit with me for a little while?" She sniffled, pausing for a moment before she went on again. "I... I don't know if I can handle crying any more today. I'd appreciate it, and it's totally alright if you can't. Either way I thank you for sitting down with me for as long as you already have." 

Lola sighed as she closed and locked the door of Allister's shop, staring at her own reflection for a moment. Sometimes she wondered if all of this was worth it, somehow. And then she wondered how one would measure that. Maybe she should have stayed dead but getting back up had not exactly been a conscious decision... none of that had been. Sure, she barely felt physical pain anymore but sometimes she could not shake the memories that were etched into the back of her mind, constantly waiting for an 'empty' moment to return. Nonsense... before she could get too disgusted by her face in the glass door she turned away, about to walk home. It was needed exercise, to keep her body from freezing or however one would like to call it. 

She did not pay much attention to her surroundings this time, it did not matter anyway, did it? ...Geez, she annoyed herself right now. Could her slow brain just shut the hell up please? Today just was a day where everything sucked, she could do without thinking about it or remembering things she did not want to remember. She would just need to make it home, then she could stare at the wall for hours that would either feel like minutes or an eternity until she had to get back to work. Great evening plans. But well, it probably just was like that sometimes, no matter how much it annoyed her. There was no way she would cry in public, no damn way. Too bad she did not feel the tears running down her cheeks, she would have been embarrassed by how stupid that was.

Unlike Illanya Lola was not very alert, so the hand on her shoulder came as a surprise. Yet she only flinched a little before turning around, probably not caring enough to properly panic right now. The bigger problem was... she did not know what to reply. For a moment she was even confused by the masked figure's notion and only realized after touching one of her cheeks that her hand was wet. So she had been crying... that explained some things. She had probably just zoned out enough to not be bothered by her sight getting weaker - she had walked the same path endless times now, so she would have found it even if she had been blindfolded... oh well. That thought process took a moment, at least it was fairly obvious by the way she was looking at her own hand in confusion.

"Uhm.. yeah... not doing too good right now." she mumbled, not sure what kind of answer the stranger expected... or wanted to hear. Lola watched as Illanya took off her mask, revealing her scarred face that, in essence, was not too different from her own. Skin paler and greyer than it should be, the scars merely hinting what had been. Another one who had 'survived' death... if one could call this surviving.
For the most part she just listened to the knight's words and even if they were a little...odd... she appreciated them. (And considering she was terrible at this herself she was not really in a position to judge any attempts at comforting someone.) She managed to reply with a little "Sure.." and followed Illanya to the nearby bench she had made out. 

Again she slowly blinked at Illanya as the woman was offering to stay with her and to listen. Maybe it would indeed be less weird to talk about with someone with a vaguely similar fate? "That is... very kind of you." Lola stated slowly, pulling at the stitches on one of her fingers. "I just... sometimes don't know how to deal with all of this... you know..." she looked down on herself, "being dead and all. Well. dead but alive..." It seemed like the other would understand. "Everything just feels empty and pointless... when you're alive you have plans of what you want to do, who you want to be... but looking like this? I can't really do much... with people, I mean. Most of the time I get disgusted looks at best. If my boss gave a single damn about reputation I wouldn't have a job. But I guess his stuff is good and unique enough that people come back anyway..." Lola let out a small sigh, looking at Illanya and trying to figure out whether she could continue or if the woman was tired of her already. Hard to tell with expressions as subtle as theirs, yet she figured there was not a hint of annoyance, so she continued. "Some days just suck is all. When I remember... things I don't want to remember." The undead girl chuckled lightly. "I mean, what can I do about it? Go to therapy? What am I gonna say? 'Hey I got murdered but I kind of survived so now I gotta deal with the fallout?' ...sounds great, doesn't it?" Lola looked back down at her stitched hands. "I just don't see a point to any of this..."

There was silence, before Illanya spoke up again. Not uncomfortable, more just... mutual acceptance or whatever. At least that was what it felt like. Lola listened intently to every word, maybe feeling a little relieved that the woman understood. That was nice, for a change. The hug came as a surprise, but it was a pleasant one. Cold or not, it was still a gesture of comfort and well, she had once been human so it still had its effect. While it lasted Lola sunk a little into it, appreciating that someone actually just had hugged her... that was nice. "I guess that's all we got going for us, hm?" she mumbled into the knight's cape. "Keeping on trying and hoping that someday it will be different. or better." Now that sounded a little bitter. But it took another moment of silence for her to speak again. "Thank... you. For understanding."