[Oh, yeah. The contact list. He keeps forgetting about that. Lloyd takes a minute to remember how to pull that thing up, then skims through it to see for himself. The person who sent that text is right. Kratos isn't there.
Lloyd frowns, then awkwardly types back. He's still not very good at writing on this thing.]
could some onne have eRased his mname?
[Someday he will learn of the wonders of the backspace button - but that day is not today.]
I don't know if that's entirely possible, but I wouldn't rule it out. What I've heard implies that he has vanished from this world if his name is no longer on the list. So maybe he went home?
Unfortunately I'm not an expert when it comes to Somarium, I'm merely relaying what I've heard on the network. Have you checked for his belongings? I'd assume they'd go along with him.
[Lloyd murmurs that word out loud, talking to himself since whoever the person is who's writing the purple text obviously can't hear him. He heads back to the front door of Kratos's house, hesitating a moment before he tries the knob. He's half-surprised to find that it turns easily. Wouldn't Kratos have locked it...?
His footsteps sound loud to him as he steps inside, louder because of the silence coming from everywhere. No near-silent hum of machinery from things like the fridge, no quiet ticking from a clock, no breathing, no movement.
[Not gone. Home. Kratos found a way home. They'd both been looking. Maybe the other man had found it by accident and hadn't had time to tell anyone before he traveled back.]
yeah h'es from my world. he's kinda a teecher for me.
if he went homme I bet he'll come back. it only tkaes a month fore the otherworldy gate to open!
I didn't come across any gates that would lead me here. Nor did I hear of anyone else that arrived in the same manner. So that's a bit disconcerting. Either way. I suppose I should express my condolences for you losing your teacher for the time.
I never doubted the presence of a gate. But if there is only one, then the chances of finding it are rather slim. That and, like most gates, where we end up is all up to chance. Your optimism reminds me of someone from home. Frankly, I find it rather fruitless in most endeavors.
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Lloyd frowns, then awkwardly types back. He's still not very good at writing on this thing.]
could some onne have eRased his mname?
[Someday he will learn of the wonders of the backspace button - but that day is not today.]
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What I've heard implies that he has vanished from this world if his name is no longer on the list.
So maybe he went home?
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is their anyy wayto be sure? THat he realy is gone?
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Have you checked for his belongings? I'd assume they'd go along with him.
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[But if Kratos was gone, he wouldn't mind. If he wasn't, then... Well, then Lloyd would have to face him and explain. He could live with that.]
hang on i'M going to go in side.
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[Lloyd murmurs that word out loud, talking to himself since whoever the person is who's writing the purple text obviously can't hear him. He heads back to the front door of Kratos's house, hesitating a moment before he tries the knob. He's half-surprised to find that it turns easily. Wouldn't Kratos have locked it...?
His footsteps sound loud to him as he steps inside, louder because of the silence coming from everywhere. No near-silent hum of machinery from things like the fridge, no quiet ticking from a clock, no breathing, no movement.
And...]
its empty.. Al l his thingsare gone
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Was he from your world or someone you met here?
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yeah h'es from my world. he's kinda a teecher for me.
if he went homme I bet he'll come back. it only tkaes a month fore the otherworldy gate to open!
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Nor did I hear of anyone else that arrived in the same manner.
So that's a bit disconcerting.
Either way.
I suppose I should express my condolences for you losing your teacher for the time.
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[Lloyd takes a deep breath, then lets it out.]
Thanks. but hell come back. I know itt.
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But if there is only one, then the chances of finding it are rather slim.
That and, like most gates, where we end up is all up to chance.
Your optimism reminds me of someone from home.
Frankly, I find it rather fruitless in most endeavors.
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