Who:Much and Robin What:Shutting down and refusing to go home. When:Tonight Where:The park Warnings:TBA!
Simple. Simpleton. Any version of the word made his skin crawl. Much searched for his dagger in the rain, no longer caring about how cold or wet it was. Why did they always say simple? He knew hew as just a servant. The world could carry on without him if he should die and probably forget he existed within a weeks time. It would just keep turning. That was what simple meant. Unimportant. He'd looked it up once. Regretted every moment of it. He'd abandoned the backpack full of wood he'd been initially quite pleased at gathering where the witch had shown. What did it matter? Nobody really talked to him. He and Robin spoke words, but was that the same as talking? Was he even really worth anything at all?
He'd located his dagger finally. It fell from the sky and landed just underneath one of those burning bushes. He knelt and reached for it, wincing as the fire bit at his hand and burned the skin. He couldn't reach the weapon. Not like that anyway. He moved his hand to look at the angry burn and frowned. Simple indeed. Robin wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake. Anyone else wouldn't have either. The sudden urge to kick something rose as he stared at the trapped weapon. "What are you going to taunt me now too?" Talk to the fire Much, that makes you seem real sane. He internally scolded as he sat down in the middle of the now abandoned park and watched the flames engulf the weapon.
Rain poured down, clouds gathered overhead. Much still didn't move. If there was a tree house he might have gone to it in hopes not to be found, but he didn't. All he had was hurt pride and an injured hand. His existence did not equal Robins. Robin had once called him simple, it was meant as an insult and taken as one. He hated that word. It didn't hurt coming from that crazy witch, it hurt that Robin had once said the very same thing.