Fifth Floor Common Room, Thursday Afternoon
It might be Cinco de Mayo to some people, but to Dolf it was a more important day. Not that he would have gotten very gung-ho about it if he'd still been back home-- not that this was technically all that gung-ho, because all he'd done was put out some snacks and tuck a few plastic red-white-and-blue Dutch flags behind the furniture-- but it was still important.
It was Liberation Day back home right now. And-- well, with everything that happened to Triela, he wasn't in the most festive mood. But he should be, today of all days, especially after he'd kept two minutes' silence during the Day of the Remembrance of the Dead yesterday. He still possessed a keen sense of historical perspective.
So: flags, snacks, and the one live stream of one of the Liberation Festivals that he could find. He'd find some joy in himself for the sake of freedom today, even if it killed him.
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It was Liberation Day back home right now. And-- well, with everything that happened to Triela, he wasn't in the most festive mood. But he should be, today of all days, especially after he'd kept two minutes' silence during the Day of the Remembrance of the Dead yesterday. He still possessed a keen sense of historical perspective.
So: flags, snacks, and the one live stream of one of the Liberation Festivals that he could find. He'd find some joy in himself for the sake of freedom today, even if it killed him.
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