so little to do, too much damn time | day four, late evening, open

[xanthous]

This has to be one of the worst things to happen to him in recent memory. He doesn't have many memories to compare this to, but that's not important. What is important is that he doesn't have a damn thing to do.

He's going to go insane, at this rate.

He doesn't have a purpose right now. Nobody's dead, nobody's dying, and it certainly doesn't seem like anyone's going to be dying any time soon, which is unfortunate and irritating. This lack of death has left him with far too much free time that he doesn't know how to spend. Currently he's spending his time sitting on stairs in the Great Hall, knees drawn up to his chest as stares out glumly. He's been sitting there for longer than he'd like to admit, with a curtain wrapped around his shoulders and covering him almost entirely. A part of him loathes having to resort to using a curtain as a blanket - but it's better than some unobservant moron not noticing he's there because he blends into the surroundings.

So he sits there and he frowns, and after a while - hours - he starts to grow restless, and he begins to methodically tear strips from the curtain. There's no purpose to it, but he's going to do it anyways and anyone who waltzes through the Great Hall will see him laying the strips out on the steps and might even have one shoved into their hands if they get close enough.

Comments

[seerchlight]

At some point while the reaper sits there tearing fabric into strips, this kid starts buzzing around the air above him. His form is as luminant and blatant as the other's is transparent, and in his case, he's decided to remain naked.

He floats around the air above, skimming by doors as a running pace. Occasionally he stops to try to pull on a handle or two, before looking sort of puzzled and carrying on. He hesitates nearby where the other changeling is a few times, until he finally stops all together on one of his passes over.

"What are you even doing?" he asks, sufficiently distracted from the task at hand.

[xanthous]

He doesn't acknowledge him immediately, too busy making sure the lines of strips are perfectly neat on the stairs. Then, he straightens up, holding one of the thicker strips of fabric.

And then he squints at the other changeling. He's far too bright to look out directly, and after a moment he looks back at his fabric. "Don't you have eyes? It's pretty obvious what I'm doing."

He waves the strip in the Light's direction, tutting.

[seerchlight]

The light just...continues staring into space, as he has been doing.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I DON'T have eyes, doucheballs. I like to think of them more as ' hauntingly empty voids.'" He gestures to his face in way of explanation. "What's your excuse?"

[xanthous]

He bristles. Way to be an asshole, light. "Well, if your empty voids are capable of sight, use them to figure it out for yourself."

He's not sure if voids are typically capable of sensing things, but he doesn't really care. He hates the light pretty much immediately, so he doesn't care about polite. (He hates most of the other changelings immediately. Maybe he should work on that.)

[seerchlight]

"Wow," the light says, raising his hands in unnecessarily expressive defense. "Look at you. Giving the dude with no eyeballs shit about not seeing things. Rude as fuck."

[xanthous]

If his eyes weren't glowing orbs, he would be rolling them. "I've got weird eyes too, so don't get all huffy at me. If you didn't want attitude you shouldn't have asked."

[seerchlight]

"If you didn't want stupid questions you shouldn't have decided to sit around in a busy stairwell acting like a freak," he quips back, easily.

[chromaticscale]

Passing through the Great Hall on the way to goodness knows where-- she hasn't figured it out yet herself-- she encounters a new face she has yet to introduce herself to. She stands at the top of the stairs for a moment trying to puzzle out what he's doing. Taking each step closer at a slow plod, bare feet landing heavily on the next stair, she comes in close enough to see him tearing at the sheet. Something about him, his posture, doesn't convince her that he's doing this just because he finds it fun. She takes it upon herself to sit down a step up, an interested look cast his way. When she addresss almost a conspiratorial whisper, with the way she leans in.

"What are you doing?"

[xanthous]

He doesn't have fun. He never has fun. Fun isn't in his job description.

He eyes the girl with a sullen frown, picking at some loose threads as he thinks of the best way to answer. Should he be polited?

...Nah.

"I'm tearing up a sheet because there's nothing better to do in this damn house with everyone staying alive."

[chromaticscale]

"Staying alive is boring?" Well that's counter intuitive. And kind of creepy. But she's not deterred just yet. She does back away a little bit though. "Why would you say something like that?"

[xanthous]

"Yes. Extremely. What am I supposed to do with everyone staying alive?" He gives her a withering look, as if he's offended that she dare asks why. She should be able to figure it out. "Because that's my job."

[chromaticscale]

"You're... supposed to kill people?" She's not really getting it. He might have to lay it out for her a little more.

[justbeclaws]

The sound of someone eeling their way up the stairs toward him while trying not to make noise is clearly audible in the echoing silence of the Great Hall. It doesn't help that she clangs a little bit on the stairs. Maybe she should have gotten a curtain of her own to muffle the noise...

Before she manages to do whatever it is she's trying to do, the light falls just right for her to pick out his silhouette, and she sits back abruptly. She could have sworn...

"Werren't you glowing beforre?"

[xanthous]

He pauses as soon as he hears her, and he sighs as soon as she speaks. Honestly, didn't anyone appreciate things like solitude? The living were way too frustrating, with their approaching him and asking him questions.

He tuts, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "What kind of dumb question is that?"

[justbeclaws]

"...One I'm asking? I met you in the librrarry, didn't I? You werre shiny and looking forr spiderrs."

[xanthous]

Head...tilt. After a moment, he grimaces. "I've never been shiny in my life. And I've never looked for spiders, either."

[justbeclaws]

"Then was it...someone who looked like you? Orr..." Or is she seeing things that aren't there? She doesn't have any way to tell at this point.

For that matter, is she seeing things when she finds this silhouette familiar? "Do I know you frrom somewherre? Long ago?" If he is the same person, it would be strange to ask him again, but he might not be. And maybe he remembers her.