A Hammer Sees A Nail, Yet Strikes a Rose

Corwyn sighed as opened the gates of the Pantheon, his eyes scanned the people and he found it was somewhat dead. It was Thor's Day, and had been four days since he'd been made aware of Rose's state. His gaze reluctantly moved from the crowds and clerks to the lounge and there he found what he was looking for. He sighed, a soft frown on his face as his eyes locked onto the hunched form of Rose Fannett.

The woman looked like she'd seen better days. Her hair, previously always pristine in that fluffy and healthy way was no full of spikey patches where it was obvious she hadn't bothered fixing the frizz to her hair. His eyes, long since enhanced via stats, easily made out the dark bags, bloodshot eyes, and weak trembles as she stared at where he used to sit.

Corwyn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before he moved over and went to sit. As he made his way over, the woman's eyes darted up and he saw the cascade of emotions fall through her mind as she rationalized his presence.

He moved to the couch and sat down as soft frown on his face as he stared at Rose with concern, but also a profound feeling of disappointment.

"Rose." Corwyn greeted with a nod, his chest tight with anxiety. He'd nearly not come, he wasn't made for this kind of...wishy washy stuff. He'd much rather be bashing steel and iron together, theorizing on his next Grimoire to Enchant, Upgrade his Bloodstone Goblet, or literally anything else than try to work his way through what he'd soon come to learn was a deep seated trauma and fear ingrained within the woman before him.

He'd talked with Misha the day after, and a few other Guild Workers about Rose's situation and soon came to learn Rose had been through a similar course of events just like this one, although the Adventurer in question never came back.

'How did she just write me off? Surely someone must have seen me, or checked with the Goinbiu Familia that I was still alive?' Corwyn thought previously.

He'd asked that same question to Misha, and she stated that they did, but Rose wasn't exactly....mentally stable.

In her mind 'Corwyn didn't show up - Corwyn is dead', end of story. Que grief and validation for being correct that all Adventurers die.

'What a shit trauma.' Corwyn thought. 'Rose seems too emotional for this kind of work, in all honesty. Too neurotic.'

It was a cruel thought to think that someone -especially a friend- wasn't fit for work. He could admit that she did well, but knowing one's limits and personality was important as he could easily see that the Guild itself wasn't exactly all that wonderful of a working environment. Clerks dealt with people that died every day, people that were for the most part complete assholes to anyone they felt were lower and lesser than them.

In his rough month of living in Orario, he'd quickly picked up the disposition of many Adventurers and Unblessed, which at times ran to an even more abusive and 'second-class citizen-ship' grain. It wasn't exactly common, but it also wasn't rare. This led to a degree of social and cultural segregation between Adventurers and Unblessed.

The Guild acted as something of a bridge between the two peoples that lived inside the Dungeon city, and toxic personalities were common inside the population of strong willed and pig-headed people that danced with death every day to earn their bread.

However, for all those pieces of toxic shit, there were the gems and truly interesting people that held a charisma. Corwyn knew he had charisma, and while he was social awkward in certain areas; he could lead, give public speeches, explain a topic, teach, impart wisdom, and a dozen other things that all he'd their own gravitas that was uniquely him.

Rose's past was that she'd been attached romantically with another Adventurer, likely one that held some range of unique ideals that elevated him over the masses of toxic and strong type A alpha personalities.

Then the dude died, she developed a trauma, and here we are; doomed to repeat history.

"C-Corwyn?" Rose muttered, her eyes dull.

"I'm sorry for not saying goodbye, but to my defense I thought you wanted space." Corwyn sighed, getting to the meat of the matter. 'First, apologize for the only logical fault in this situation, then attack the real root'. "I didn't know about your...difficulties." Corwyn tried to lessen the blow, but the flinch that the word elicited made him feel a bit bad. "Anyway, I'm alive. You could have asked my Familia if I was still around..." Corwyn felt words leave him. Normally he was a very wordy person, but in terms of tragedy, he responded in a very limited manner. Whether that be humor, usually black, or a frank 'that sucks' which in itself is usually laced with humor.

The two stared for a brief moment. "I...Rose. You should quit." Corwyn said. For some reason he felt a strange sense of irony inside those words.

"Quit?" She muttered, her eyes wide at the words.

"This job. It's not good for you. You interact with scum, you get attached too easily to those that aren't scum, and when they leave or distance themselves, you go for the nucle-." Corwyn cut himself of and cleared his throat. "You go for the magic option. It's not healthy, and you need to step away from this life. It's hurting you."

She didn't respond, just staring down at her feet.

Corwyn stared for a few minutes, before getting up and sighing. "Life...dies. People die." I've died. "It's just...something that happens. Grieve, morn...and get over yourself." He closed his eyes as he left, heart panging with pain as he heard sobs behind him.