Murasaki "so done with this shit" [ ムラサキ ] (
secondplaced) wrote in
realpolitik2014-12-03 09:28 pm
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Entry tags:
Murasaki | Nice | 063
[It was almost possible to forget about the whole explosion with everything else that was going on. It was crazy, like a train going off the tracks, and it wasn't like they had time to stop and smell the roses.
But they have time now, time to lick their wounds and decide what to do next, and time to look at the remains of Cafe Nowhere.
And they really are just remains. It's a shell of a building, hardly anything left, blackened and unrecognizable.
Murasaki's boots crunch through the wreckage, and his expression is tight and unhappy--this was, in a way, part of their home, and now it's gone...but in proper Murasaki fashion he has to immediately glance over to Nice to see how he's taking this. It was one thing to know it happened. It's another entirely to see the aftermath like this.]
But they have time now, time to lick their wounds and decide what to do next, and time to look at the remains of Cafe Nowhere.
And they really are just remains. It's a shell of a building, hardly anything left, blackened and unrecognizable.
Murasaki's boots crunch through the wreckage, and his expression is tight and unhappy--this was, in a way, part of their home, and now it's gone...but in proper Murasaki fashion he has to immediately glance over to Nice to see how he's taking this. It was one thing to know it happened. It's another entirely to see the aftermath like this.]
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But it still hurt.
He knows that Murasaki's probably looking at him at this point, waiting for an outburst...or anything, really. But he kind of found himself a lot like Cafe Nowhere right now -- hollow.
Maybe if things weren't so fucked up right now, it would've hurt less. But right now, Hajime was gone, Art was somehow mixed up in this, and Murasaki's Minimum was gone. Whatever they were planning...it was successful, so far, even though he didn't want to admit it.
He finds a spot that's not still smoldering, and he sits on the ground, bringing a knee up to his chest and propping his chin onto it. Maybe he felt as if he stared at the ashes long enough, something would make sense. Anything, after Art came back on that boat, would make sense. He knew he shouldn't be holding his breath for it, but he felt as if not knowing was slowly driving him crazy.
And now...he had no idea what to do next.]
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