[ It's out of empathy that he offers, something still very fucking new to him. He kind of hates it, if he's going to be honest.
The question makes Berserker stop what he's doing. His entire body goes stiff; his tail even straightens out entirely, the tip flicking slightly with irritation. It strikes a nerve to be asked such a question...His identity is a difficult one and he's only just now starting to get over the bitter resentment that surrounded it. ]
When all you can do is kill in order to survive, you can do nothing to save yourself. [ He stabs his knife into the ground, trying to ignore the burning resentment in his chest. That's no longer who he is; he is no longer that shadow to the light of Cú Chulainn. He has his own name, his own identity, but he cannot erase what made him this way. ] I tried to hold onto anything I could, but I gave up everything for the strength to survive. It was either accept what I had to do for the strength to survive or die...and I would not let myself die.
[ And yet, in a way, he let himself die in a more metaphorical sense. Berserker can't bring himself to look at Trevor as anger at his own life and existence flares up.
He lets the anger burn white hot for a moment before it snuffs itself out. The emptiness and apathy that normally fill him take its place. He smooths the hide out to check his work. ]
...Do you want to know my name?
[ Not his True Name, but the name Caster gave to him. It's more his name than his True Name ever was and it's no longer a reminder of the fact he was an impossibility. ]
no subject
The question makes Berserker stop what he's doing. His entire body goes stiff; his tail even straightens out entirely, the tip flicking slightly with irritation. It strikes a nerve to be asked such a question...His identity is a difficult one and he's only just now starting to get over the bitter resentment that surrounded it. ]
When all you can do is kill in order to survive, you can do nothing to save yourself. [ He stabs his knife into the ground, trying to ignore the burning resentment in his chest. That's no longer who he is; he is no longer that shadow to the light of Cú Chulainn. He has his own name, his own identity, but he cannot erase what made him this way. ] I tried to hold onto anything I could, but I gave up everything for the strength to survive. It was either accept what I had to do for the strength to survive or die...and I would not let myself die.
[ And yet, in a way, he let himself die in a more metaphorical sense. Berserker can't bring himself to look at Trevor as anger at his own life and existence flares up.
He lets the anger burn white hot for a moment before it snuffs itself out. The emptiness and apathy that normally fill him take its place. He smooths the hide out to check his work. ]
...Do you want to know my name?
[ Not his True Name, but the name Caster gave to him. It's more his name than his True Name ever was and it's no longer a reminder of the fact he was an impossibility. ]