Great - Violinist of Hameln: Shchelkunchik - that bartype place yo
He's been here before. That much is obvious. There'd been a darkness to his eyes, anger to his steps, but the second they'd hit wood instead of the marble halls of the Sforzando Magic School, he'd been able to breathe.
The bar. He was at the end of the universe. Thank God.
After taking a minute to get his bearings again, he made his way to the counter and ordered up some comfort food: some fried paradoxes that tasted like his mother's daifuku and a bowl of yakisoba.
Lute couldn't find him here to bother him about this afternoon, and Shchel couldn't find him to ask about it.
Perfect.
The bar. He was at the end of the universe. Thank God.
After taking a minute to get his bearings again, he made his way to the counter and ordered up some comfort food: some fried paradoxes that tasted like his mother's daifuku and a bowl of yakisoba.
Lute couldn't find him here to bother him about this afternoon, and Shchel couldn't find him to ask about it.
Perfect.