He was surprised, inasmuch as he could be amidst the numbness, the foggy drifting from one emotion to the next as he very poorly dealt with this latest blow. The destruction of the palace, the loss of lives there, had been one thing. He hadn't known them personally, though he resonated with the townsfolk as they mourned, he helped in whatever rebuilding efforts could be begun in the bitter, endless cold of the Halo climes.
But then a fucking dragon came along and fucked with his carefully guarded emotions again.
Weaver had been a friend, a boss, a drinking buddy. And more recently, a leader for the little community to look to. He had felt the shift in the locals, the Naturals, as one of their own had risen to take the mantle, he had seen how they supported her, and he had seen how she had carried herself too, with a quiet confidence and competence, the rank coming naturally to her. Chuy shook his head at the unfairness of it, his eyes puffy but spent of their tears for now, as he made his way towards the Kraai, more out of old habit than anything else. He worked there regularly, tended to the bar, prepped food, but now it was closed, and should be a quiet, peaceful refuge for those who had come here seeking a safe space to wait out the Longnight.
So he was surprised, however slightly, to see hear the angry slurs from those in the street, to see so many swinging through the doors. He picked up his pace and entered behind a woman ( Elena ), hearing her question directed to the one who stood behind the bar.
His features softened as he recognised Wessex, though he still couldn't quite put a smile on his lips, not because he didn't want to, but he was physically unable to, through the grief, the sadness, the numbness. Instead he nodded to hear, and looked for a task to be completed - grabbing a broom, he began sweeping at the mess on the floors, his gaze downcast, his posture tense and yet focussed on this small task he had given himself.
There wasn't much else he could do.
But then a fucking dragon came along and fucked with his carefully guarded emotions again.
Weaver had been a friend, a boss, a drinking buddy. And more recently, a leader for the little community to look to. He had felt the shift in the locals, the Naturals, as one of their own had risen to take the mantle, he had seen how they supported her, and he had seen how she had carried herself too, with a quiet confidence and competence, the rank coming naturally to her. Chuy shook his head at the unfairness of it, his eyes puffy but spent of their tears for now, as he made his way towards the Kraai, more out of old habit than anything else. He worked there regularly, tended to the bar, prepped food, but now it was closed, and should be a quiet, peaceful refuge for those who had come here seeking a safe space to wait out the Longnight.
So he was surprised, however slightly, to see hear the angry slurs from those in the street, to see so many swinging through the doors. He picked up his pace and entered behind a woman ( Elena ), hearing her question directed to the one who stood behind the bar.
His features softened as he recognised Wessex, though he still couldn't quite put a smile on his lips, not because he didn't want to, but he was physically unable to, through the grief, the sadness, the numbness. Instead he nodded to hear, and looked for a task to be completed - grabbing a broom, he began sweeping at the mess on the floors, his gaze downcast, his posture tense and yet focussed on this small task he had given himself.
There wasn't much else he could do.
chulane
