DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Day 53: Lunch
solemn
buryyourdemons wrote in damned
There was little to be said of the daily business that went on. He allowed himself to be shuffled, mind embedded too deeply in things he shouldn't be dwelling on. The night was over, the shadows had vanished, and there was little more than bad memories to be left in their stead. This was logic, pure and simple, and should have been reassuring but for the whispered accusations made by his own. Of all things that his mind moved to unconsciously focus on, it was one of the first things spoken. That he could kill himself and nothing would stop him.

Which was pointless. In the whole of its entirety. Gaara had not truly moved in that way for time past--And now, even, he had goals and aspirations that he would see come to pass before he gave anything of himself away. He was working for what he believed in; he was working to become acknowledged by others as himself, and not as what he was created for. And there was no point to anything that thing had said.

His thoughts shifted, moved over the night, each dark statement echoed by an internal vow of his own, a denial of returning to what he once was. He still had yet to seek out Temari--his sister, too, would have been confronted by her demons, and there was a edge of concern in that thought. Considering all of this, he seated himself in a place near the wall, glancing at the doorway every few moments.

[sister dear.]

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It was already the third shift, and Edgar still hadn't seen a hint of Locke. He sighed- Edgar had hoped he'd catch his friend for the serious conversation he'd been avoiding. With the topic being Celes and the events of the previous night still weighing on him, it wasn't going to be an easy meeting. For a moment, he thought he ought to be more concerned than he was in regards to Locke's whereabouts; however, Locke was a capable thief, one well trained in the art of avoiding attention.

It was likely he was just laying low for one reason or another. He'd probably faced his own demons personified by his shadow, too. It had been unfortunate that they'd separated, leaving him to face his tormentor alone.

Though he'd spent a quiet shift in the Sun Room, keeping his eyes open for his allies, Edgar had made some progress with the morning shift. Aerith had returned to Landel's, and confirmed some of his suspicions about those who had been readmitted: they could come back with little to no recollection of their previous stay. Something Celes had said to him had left him curious as to if he was one, as well. There'd be no asking her now. Perhaps if he could find someone who'd seen him before...

It'd be tricky, and getting certain information was already like pulling teeth. For now, Edgar found a lone seat, taking his journal from his pocket and turning to his notes. The more information he had at his disposal, the more he'd be able to offer others in return for their aid.

[Sherlock]

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