(Untitled)

[notsonasty]

*He's sixteen years old, unmistakably good-looking (and oh, note how flattering the khakis are) although the current expression of utter confusion may not be his most attractive. It was all of ten minutes ago he was in his bedroom working on Latin, and now he's on a boat when he's never been on a boat in his life.*

. . . Wha-?

Typist: Bobby

Comments

[dontdosadness]

...*blinks a little* Bobby Mayler?

[notsonasty]

*o_O* . . . Moritz Stiefel?

[dontdosadness]

*vague amusion* No, I'm your Uncle Franz.

[notsonasty]

You died.

[dontdosadness]

I know I did. I'm not dead, though.

[notsonasty]

I noticed. *o_o*

[dontdosadness]

A bit hard not to notice.

[notsonasty]

. . . A little, yes.

[dontdosadness]

*face darkens a little* I should be dead. It'd be easier.

[notsonasty]

*o__o* I can't imagine being dead would be very nice.

[dontdosadness]

It'd be better than hurting everyone I care about.

[notsonasty]

. . . As far as I can tell, the -- dying bit did that. A lot.

[dontdosadness]

At least if I were dead I wouldn't be doing any more damage.

[notsonasty]

*blinkblink* What's happened, then?

[dontdosadness]

*scowls* Girls.

[notsonasty]

Oh. I wouldn't know. *wry smile. we are inexperienced, alas*