Enoch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warriorscribe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-08-19 01:04 am
warriorscribe) wrote in towerofanimus2012-08-19 01:04 am
Entry tags:
Relative safety is cause enough for celebration
Characters: Enoch and anyone
Setting: Cafeteria, this post is totally on the 18th what is schedule fail
Format: I'm starting prose, but I'll match you.
Summary: Enoch isn't one to turn down hospitality, and constant fighting's left him tired and hungry. And then he gets a taste of nostalgia. Basic aftermath post here, yep.
Warnings: Nothing yet!
Had it been a day as promised, he might not have had to rely on Rapid-Fire Recovery to avoid death. At least he had all his armor back because of it.
It was not a day. But they were safe. He hadn't even realized everyone had somehow lost half an hour, thinking he'd perhaps blacked out from fatigue. His steps had been uncertain on the stairs as he returned to the cafeteria to check on the others.
The sight of the "refreshments" as the strange-sounding voice had put it, took him by surprise for all of a moment before he made his way to the table and took a bread roll. He may need to sleep, but to refuse this food would be rude, and if he went to sleep now, he'd just wake up sooner than he needed from hunger.
His fatigue was forgotten when he bit into the roll and tasted the familiar sweet tang of that fruit he didn't know. Chewing slowly, he looked down at the roll in his hands. Bread with this flavor was the first food he'd given Armaros when they'd first found themselves in Meridian. It was what he'd been eating when he'd written...his free hand went to the pocket containing the card he'd written the words "my hero" on, fingering the plastic surface where he knew the words to be.
He forced himself to swallow and looked up at the ceiling, a habit to hide tears from observers. But no tears came. The tight ache of grief was there in his chest, but...he was too drained. Too relieved. And in spite of everything, he felt accomplished. He and the others had held them off and kept everyone below them safe.
"If I could celebrate this with you..." he whispered, not seeming to realize he'd spoken aloud. He reached for more of the blueberry-flavored rolls, as many as he could fit in the crook of his arm.
Setting: Cafeteria, this post is totally on the 18th what is schedule fail
Format: I'm starting prose, but I'll match you.
Summary: Enoch isn't one to turn down hospitality, and constant fighting's left him tired and hungry. And then he gets a taste of nostalgia. Basic aftermath post here, yep.
Warnings: Nothing yet!
Had it been a day as promised, he might not have had to rely on Rapid-Fire Recovery to avoid death. At least he had all his armor back because of it.
It was not a day. But they were safe. He hadn't even realized everyone had somehow lost half an hour, thinking he'd perhaps blacked out from fatigue. His steps had been uncertain on the stairs as he returned to the cafeteria to check on the others.
The sight of the "refreshments" as the strange-sounding voice had put it, took him by surprise for all of a moment before he made his way to the table and took a bread roll. He may need to sleep, but to refuse this food would be rude, and if he went to sleep now, he'd just wake up sooner than he needed from hunger.
His fatigue was forgotten when he bit into the roll and tasted the familiar sweet tang of that fruit he didn't know. Chewing slowly, he looked down at the roll in his hands. Bread with this flavor was the first food he'd given Armaros when they'd first found themselves in Meridian. It was what he'd been eating when he'd written...his free hand went to the pocket containing the card he'd written the words "my hero" on, fingering the plastic surface where he knew the words to be.
He forced himself to swallow and looked up at the ceiling, a habit to hide tears from observers. But no tears came. The tight ache of grief was there in his chest, but...he was too drained. Too relieved. And in spite of everything, he felt accomplished. He and the others had held them off and kept everyone below them safe.
"If I could celebrate this with you..." he whispered, not seeming to realize he'd spoken aloud. He reached for more of the blueberry-flavored rolls, as many as he could fit in the crook of his arm.
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