[log] Should old acquaintances be forgot and never brought to mind?
Who: Seed and Camus
When: A few tankards of ale after Percival leaves the tavern.
Where: Camus's room.
What: ANGST.
Seed stayed at the Inn for a while after Percival left, doing good on his foolish affirmation that he wasn't nearly drunk enough. Perhaps he wasn't, and perhaps he was, sometimes it was hard to tell. Once he makes his exit, he sits outside for a while, in the night air that still holds a trace of spring chill, and mulls things over.
Against all odds, every day proves to be harder than the one before, every hour an extra burden to bear. Maybe it's time to leave. Or to forget. Two things he can't bring himself to do no matter how hard he tries. Two things he wonders if he should even strive to do: he remembers Percival, the blank, dead expression on his face, and his own conclusion... I’m just glad I’m not in your skin, then. It hurts like hell, but it’s worth it.
Is it, really?
Without even thinking, he gets up, and makes his way down a familiar path, to a familiar room he shouldn't even be considering.
But he raises his hand and knocks on the door regardless.
When: A few tankards of ale after Percival leaves the tavern.
Where: Camus's room.
What: ANGST.
Seed stayed at the Inn for a while after Percival left, doing good on his foolish affirmation that he wasn't nearly drunk enough. Perhaps he wasn't, and perhaps he was, sometimes it was hard to tell. Once he makes his exit, he sits outside for a while, in the night air that still holds a trace of spring chill, and mulls things over.
Against all odds, every day proves to be harder than the one before, every hour an extra burden to bear. Maybe it's time to leave. Or to forget. Two things he can't bring himself to do no matter how hard he tries. Two things he wonders if he should even strive to do: he remembers Percival, the blank, dead expression on his face, and his own conclusion... I’m just glad I’m not in your skin, then. It hurts like hell, but it’s worth it.
Is it, really?
Without even thinking, he gets up, and makes his way down a familiar path, to a familiar room he shouldn't even be considering.
But he raises his hand and knocks on the door regardless.