week 0, tuesday morning

[disilluded]

[Hey it's morning, is Sandy getting his coffee fix? Because if he is, Sousei is entering the kitchen and idly quirking an eyebrow.

Ah, someone he hasn't spoken to...

Hmmmm...

Eventually, he will approach, with a simple:]

I suppose routine does make the situation easier to bear.

Comments

[disilluded]

[... Hm.]

That is incredibly varied, yes. And so what purpose do you align with?

[melancoffeea]

Something archaic.

[He shrugs.]

It doesn't matter. That purpose is no longer relevant.

[disilluded]

I would argue that your purpose matters a great deal, but...

[A beat, and he shrugs.]

I will press on that point.

[melancoffeea]

Perhaps when I first came to being. That time, however, has long since passed.

[And he's not sharing, though the answer is quite obvious. His tapestry doesn't hide anything for those who understand the connotations behind a few key words.]

Anything else?

[disilluded]

[I will not press on that point... i forgot like the most important word in that sentence it's fine]

Hm.

One last thing. What do you think of the situation we have found ourselves in?

[melancoffeea]

[Sousei is dead, so what does it matter—]

The situation? . . . Humph. It's just another turn of fate.

[disilluded]

...Hm, very well then.

[A nod, simple and accepting.]

Then that was all I wanted to know. I will leave you to your coffee now.

[melancoffeea]

[Well, if the man is excusing himself, then who is Sandalphon, his own curiosity notwithstanding, to stop him? Although now that he's dwelling on it, the subject of fate is distressing indeed. His only acknowledgment of Sousei's words is a hum.

Whatever. There's coffee to be had.]