Noah Richardson (perishtwice) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2017-06-05 12:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 080, marisa, noah |
Ennui
Who: Noah and Marisa
When: around 11 a.m.
Where: second floor lounge
If Noah could have picked an official mood for the day, it would have been sick of snow and bullshit videos. He had to wonder what the aim was in requiring everyone to try to guess what was fake and what was real for two days in a row, even if he was aware that often the things those in charge did made no sense. It was unnerving to watch an image of him that was so real he'd thought for a few minutes that maybe he had deliberately tattooed the wrong Sanskrit word on some obnoxious dude. It wasn't that he'd never consider doing that, given sufficient motivation, but he hadn't. Anyone else who knew him would have thought for sure that was his shop and him, because there were no distinguishable differences.
Once he'd been released from his room, he'd gone to work out, showered and changed and then gone down to the kitchen to make himself a huge portion of pasta, cheese and beef. Nothing like Hamburger Helper when one was having ennui of the spirit; that was a lesson he'd learned long ago before he'd even left Montana.
Noah missed his companions from the old West, but at the same time, there was a lot to be said for comfortable surroundings and plentiful food. His goal for the day was not to think too much, at least not about unpleasant things, and he set himself up in the lounge with his bowl of pasta, a glass of water and a book. Neil Gaiman was one of his favorites, and the book, which he'd found in the study, was well-worn and well-loved, falling open easily so he could look at it and eat at the same time.