[That sentiment strikes Carlisle hard, his chest aching from the impact. He's thought more than once on what he'd do if given another chance at life, at avoiding this ultimate, undead fate of his and all that came with it. He's considered which would be better: if he'd died earlier to circumstances within his control, or if he'd never lived past the injury that cursed him in the first place. It's easy for him to view both as failures, personal mistakes: he was such a coward that he couldn't even die properly, not even when given the chance. Would he have done it if he'd known about the Blight Heir? About what he would do to the people of Bear Den?
As much as he'd like to change it -- all of it -- Carlisle has always known there's no rewriting the past; he must keep pressing forward, making amends and using his skills in the hopes of appealing to his goddess (and himself, a man in desperate need of some reason to validate his existence). It's either that, or he ends up stagnating, suffocating, drowning in his own regrets. He's done enough of that for several lifetimes, if his Revenant form and his embittered temper are any indication.
It's a difficult undertaking, and one he's still not sure is worth it, but it's all he has sometimes. His brow furrows, his arms folding in a barely flexible fashion as he tries to protect himself from his discomfort.]
Those children were better put out of their misery than existing like that.
[There's no cruelty in his voice, but a purposeful sobriety as he fights to keep his tone even. Qubit knows well enough how Carlisle feels about undeads -- and unlike many, he knows why he would feel that way, why he would take umbrage with anyone being kept in that state, forced to live with what they'd become and all the horrors associated with it.]
cw: vague suicidal ideation
As much as he'd like to change it -- all of it -- Carlisle has always known there's no rewriting the past; he must keep pressing forward, making amends and using his skills in the hopes of appealing to his goddess (and himself, a man in desperate need of some reason to validate his existence). It's either that, or he ends up stagnating, suffocating, drowning in his own regrets. He's done enough of that for several lifetimes, if his Revenant form and his embittered temper are any indication.
It's a difficult undertaking, and one he's still not sure is worth it, but it's all he has sometimes. His brow furrows, his arms folding in a barely flexible fashion as he tries to protect himself from his discomfort.]
Those children were better put out of their misery than existing like that.
[There's no cruelty in his voice, but a purposeful sobriety as he fights to keep his tone even. Qubit knows well enough how Carlisle feels about undeads -- and unlike many, he knows why he would feel that way, why he would take umbrage with anyone being kept in that state, forced to live with what they'd become and all the horrors associated with it.]