OLIVER
LongNight hadn't been too bad thus far, but something had been rubbing him the wrong way. Yanking at his clothes and skin, pulling him towards trying to find the answer. Were...people missing? That couldn't be. They were told to stay inside at all times. Maybe it was the people around him, causing tension, or maybe he was just nervous about being cooped up indoors constantly.
He had found himself walking around, trying to work off the energy pent up inside him. He wanted to go outside, go for a run, literally anything other than stay seated on the wood floor for a week.
Maybe he was lucky to have been right by the front door when it happened, or possibly even unlucky.
Someone else was near the door, hearing the same exact pounding. The desperate pleas of an oh so familiar voice. Oliver rushed over, but remained a few feet away. Close enough to speak but farther than the other was. Thankfully, the Accepted seemed willing to speak and actually consider that it could be Bastien.
Chewing at his lower lip, Oliver waiting impatiently for an answer. He had questions he wanted to ask himself, to see if maybe this really as the real thing.
"Do you remember my name? Or what I painted when we first met?" Oliver called out. It may be overwhelming for the injured man to answer so many questions, but it only seemed fit. After all, Bastien had invited him to the guild. Surely, he'd remember his name.
He had found himself walking around, trying to work off the energy pent up inside him. He wanted to go outside, go for a run, literally anything other than stay seated on the wood floor for a week.
Maybe he was lucky to have been right by the front door when it happened, or possibly even unlucky.
Someone else was near the door, hearing the same exact pounding. The desperate pleas of an oh so familiar voice. Oliver rushed over, but remained a few feet away. Close enough to speak but farther than the other was. Thankfully, the Accepted seemed willing to speak and actually consider that it could be Bastien.
Chewing at his lower lip, Oliver waiting impatiently for an answer. He had questions he wanted to ask himself, to see if maybe this really as the real thing.
"Do you remember my name? Or what I painted when we first met?" Oliver called out. It may be overwhelming for the injured man to answer so many questions, but it only seemed fit. After all, Bastien had invited him to the guild. Surely, he'd remember his name.
a disaster!
a massive mess
trying to not die
