falseblack
in
damned
Night 57: M91-M100 Hallway
[M96]
Military with an agenda was no different than a maniac with an agenda, and though he could appreciate the straightforward approach, Nigredo was hardly in the mood to give the words another try. Value was a virtue fast becoming tiresome, and tonight, he had resolved to focus on the trip downward instead of dwelling on matters too close to his heart. The audience proved undeserving to poke holes at a crumbling wall, after all. They were, in their own little niggling ways, repulsive to the point of intolerance; it was for this reason that Nigredo could stop with the charades. If he wished to control a situation beyond his liking, it would be best to abandon himself in the process.
Abandon Nigredo did in propriety and mood, albeit he remained unaffected when it came to obligations. The dark-haired child had promised his brother in twofold: to keep himself alive and from further harm. Desires aside, he intended to keep his word. Even if circumstances ended in the same, he didn't want to say that he failed to try. Preparation for the basement, therefore, came a bit more thoroughly this time, which came easier as the pain on his leg lightened and use of the limb increased without the aid of a wheelchair. The boy chose to don on his full uniform from the Yuriev Institute as the clothing served as a better cushion and insulation for his injuries. He then strapped the handgun to the holster at his back, making no effort to conceal it from his roommate. Better to leave all avenues open and show he had no intention of inciting violence.
For now, at least.
The ring with the empty crevice slid into his middle finger, and the boy wandered toward to the entrance, limping once in the process. He gritted his teeth and straightened the injured leg, before crossing his arms over his chest to indicate that he was ready. Perhaps Nigredo could afford to drag his feet a little in this venture, but an agreement was an agreement. And he would rather this be over quickly.
Military with an agenda was no different than a maniac with an agenda, and though he could appreciate the straightforward approach, Nigredo was hardly in the mood to give the words another try. Value was a virtue fast becoming tiresome, and tonight, he had resolved to focus on the trip downward instead of dwelling on matters too close to his heart. The audience proved undeserving to poke holes at a crumbling wall, after all. They were, in their own little niggling ways, repulsive to the point of intolerance; it was for this reason that Nigredo could stop with the charades. If he wished to control a situation beyond his liking, it would be best to abandon himself in the process.
Abandon Nigredo did in propriety and mood, albeit he remained unaffected when it came to obligations. The dark-haired child had promised his brother in twofold: to keep himself alive and from further harm. Desires aside, he intended to keep his word. Even if circumstances ended in the same, he didn't want to say that he failed to try. Preparation for the basement, therefore, came a bit more thoroughly this time, which came easier as the pain on his leg lightened and use of the limb increased without the aid of a wheelchair. The boy chose to don on his full uniform from the Yuriev Institute as the clothing served as a better cushion and insulation for his injuries. He then strapped the handgun to the holster at his back, making no effort to conceal it from his roommate. Better to leave all avenues open and show he had no intention of inciting violence.
For now, at least.
The ring with the empty crevice slid into his middle finger, and the boy wandered toward to the entrance, limping once in the process. He gritted his teeth and straightened the injured leg, before crossing his arms over his chest to indicate that he was ready. Perhaps Nigredo could afford to drag his feet a little in this venture, but an agreement was an agreement. And he would rather this be over quickly.