| |
[Sep. 30th, 2008|01:29 pm] |
*went to bed anyway, following the nerve-wracking terrifying unsettling events of his more-work lunch hour*
*doesn't sleep but manages to push the memory out of his head for a little while*
*stretches out on his stomach, curls his arms under the pillow, and closes his eyes, still feeling subdued and trying even harder not to think about It* |
|
|
| |
[Sep. 30th, 2008|03:26 pm] |
*wanders the sidewalks of Ondolindë, having slipped into the City with the morning's first light* (*there hasn't been a mortal decree yet that can keep out a determined Maia, after all*)
*takes in the quiet streets, scores of darkened shopfronts, and the empty eateries on every block* *most of all, contemplates the niggling sense of something Wrong, right down deep in his guts (or the Musical equivalent of guts, anyway)* *has been trying to get a good read on the feeling all morning, without much luck*
*pauses as the road he's on dead-ends into a wide park venue with green lawns split into sections by smooth stone walkways* *sighs quietly to himself at the stark emptiness of it; no lovers on the benches, no children in the trees or running over the grass* *thinks it's as though the entire City is holding its breath, waiting for whatever-is-next*
*unexpectedly spots a lone figure occupying a bench on the far side of the concourse* *shrugs to himself, and after a moment's thought, begins making his way over* |
|
|
worried