More short stuff: EO2U
Aug. 5th, 2017 01:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinonSee previous; I haven't been gaming much since my wrists crapped out on me, but by god I've been thinking about vidya. Everything here that mentions either Flavio or Fafnir is going to be at least a little Fafnir/Flavio, deal with it.gif.
Three-sentence stuff
1. Guild Esbat went away again, this time to live. The others watched them go, but Chloe kept her eyes on Trand. He didn't look like he'd changed his mind about anything.
2. The Door burned through his gloves in an instant, and the smell as much as the pain told him the flesh of his palms was starting to cook. His hands jerked back on reflex. On reflex, he reached for the handle again.
3. Arianna is a mess, sure, but Flavio is distraught. Bertrand thinks, Anyone who felt that way about me has been dead a hundred years or already went through that door. And then there's no question.
A longer thing
They went back to the inn, and everyone went to their rooms, and - that was it? And he was just supposed to take his armor off and go to sleep now? After all that had happened, how was it possible?
Flavio lay on his bed and stared upward sightlessly, his thoughts whirling. This was useless. He was bone weary, but he was wide awake. He was still wide awake an hour later. He’d never get any rest this way. Out of habit, he got back up, and had one boot on before he realized it was futile.
Who did you talk to, when the problem was that the person you talked to about your problems was gone?
He didn’t even know anyone here outside the guild, not well enough to talk to. And even them... Arianna would apologize and cry and he would cry and apologize and then they’d both feel worse. He refused to even look at Bertrand. Chloe was twelve (and hadn’t even bothered to learn his name for two weeks, and you’d think that wouldn’t sting because she was just a kid and he was older and wiser, but it did).
He sat back down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He was alone.
And someone knocked on the door.
He wanted to say “Go away.” He should have said “Go away.” He said “Who is it?” and immediately regretted it, because no matter what the answer was it wouldn’t be the one he wanted.
“Chloe.”
He looked down at his legs. Should he put the other boot on, or take this one off? This was stupid. He put the other one on. “It’s unlocked,” he said, and wished he could stop being helpful and polite.
She opened the door just enough to sidle in. “I heard you moving around,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“No. I’m hungry. So if you’re up, you can come with me.”
“I’m not really -”
“I know. You miss your friend.” Like she was stating the obvious, and already bored with how obvious it was. And she wasn’t wrong. “If you’re fast enough, I’ll leave you some curry.”
She pulled him along by the hand as if she were the adult here. They got curry. And he appreciated the gesture. Really. But they didn’t talk.
Three-sentence stuff
1. Guild Esbat went away again, this time to live. The others watched them go, but Chloe kept her eyes on Trand. He didn't look like he'd changed his mind about anything.
2. The Door burned through his gloves in an instant, and the smell as much as the pain told him the flesh of his palms was starting to cook. His hands jerked back on reflex. On reflex, he reached for the handle again.
3. Arianna is a mess, sure, but Flavio is distraught. Bertrand thinks, Anyone who felt that way about me has been dead a hundred years or already went through that door. And then there's no question.
A longer thing
They went back to the inn, and everyone went to their rooms, and - that was it? And he was just supposed to take his armor off and go to sleep now? After all that had happened, how was it possible?
Flavio lay on his bed and stared upward sightlessly, his thoughts whirling. This was useless. He was bone weary, but he was wide awake. He was still wide awake an hour later. He’d never get any rest this way. Out of habit, he got back up, and had one boot on before he realized it was futile.
Who did you talk to, when the problem was that the person you talked to about your problems was gone?
He didn’t even know anyone here outside the guild, not well enough to talk to. And even them... Arianna would apologize and cry and he would cry and apologize and then they’d both feel worse. He refused to even look at Bertrand. Chloe was twelve (and hadn’t even bothered to learn his name for two weeks, and you’d think that wouldn’t sting because she was just a kid and he was older and wiser, but it did).
He sat back down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He was alone.
And someone knocked on the door.
He wanted to say “Go away.” He should have said “Go away.” He said “Who is it?” and immediately regretted it, because no matter what the answer was it wouldn’t be the one he wanted.
“Chloe.”
He looked down at his legs. Should he put the other boot on, or take this one off? This was stupid. He put the other one on. “It’s unlocked,” he said, and wished he could stop being helpful and polite.
She opened the door just enough to sidle in. “I heard you moving around,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“No. I’m hungry. So if you’re up, you can come with me.”
“I’m not really -”
“I know. You miss your friend.” Like she was stating the obvious, and already bored with how obvious it was. And she wasn’t wrong. “If you’re fast enough, I’ll leave you some curry.”
She pulled him along by the hand as if she were the adult here. They got curry. And he appreciated the gesture. Really. But they didn’t talk.
