[noct is definitely looking a bit more unkempt this week. clean as he may be, he doesn't seem nearly as concerned that his hair isn't properly gelled (in fact, it's getting a bit too long to even style it properly), and some of those signs that he's not quite a kid show in a minimal amount of scruff patching in on his face.
he's fine? sure. either way, it's a bit of a shift from how he'd been taking care of himself in previous weeks.
(he's still dressed entirely in black, though, go figure.)]
monday, afternoon;
[noct is in the post office, prodding around a couple of the mailboxes—and retrieving his bookmark.
or, that's how it starts, but before he leaves, he ends up kind of just leaning against a wall and sinking to the floor, putting his hand on umbra's head and petting him gently.]
Never thought I'd say that the quiet's too much, right? [he's talking to umbra, but the implication is clear—too many people are dead. but despite that, there's a little bit of resolve in his tone; it's not brooding or depressed, but an air of determination that seems to accompany it, betraying the words a bit.]
monday, evening;
[now is when he's brooding, sitting on the porch of one of the buildings outside. his legs are stretched in front of him.
in his left hand, he's holding yuna's bookmark. in his right, he clenches sara's sword.
just feel free to sit next to him, or judge him, or whatever. he's having A Moment.]
whenever;
[he can be found in a few places through the days. sometimes it's the watering hole, even though the idea of catching fish where they pulled up two bodies is unappealing.
sometimes, it's out on the homestead, caring for the animals and making sure that they're fed and getting a bit of love.
...and sometimes he's just kind of sitting somewhere napping, because he needs 800 naps. it's fine.]
no subject
he's fine? sure. either way, it's a bit of a shift from how he'd been taking care of himself in previous weeks.
(he's still dressed entirely in black, though, go figure.)]
monday, afternoon;
or, that's how it starts, but before he leaves, he ends up kind of just leaning against a wall and sinking to the floor, putting his hand on umbra's head and petting him gently.]
Never thought I'd say that the quiet's too much, right? [he's talking to umbra, but the implication is clear—too many people are dead. but despite that, there's a little bit of resolve in his tone; it's not brooding or depressed, but an air of determination that seems to accompany it, betraying the words a bit.]
monday, evening;
in his left hand, he's holding yuna's bookmark. in his right, he clenches sara's sword.
just feel free to sit next to him, or judge him, or whatever. he's having A Moment.]
whenever;
sometimes, it's out on the homestead, caring for the animals and making sure that they're fed and getting a bit of love.
...and sometimes he's just kind of sitting somewhere napping, because he needs 800 naps. it's fine.]