thirty-seventh

[lifeandliesof]

[Private]

[a slow, constant tap of his pen]

[/Private]

[Gellert]

[after checking to make sure that Gellert is still in the castle, and experiencing a mix of relief and hollowness when he found out that he is, he makes this filter]

Gellert. Are you alright?

[/Gellert]

[some puttering sounds. it sounds like something's bubbling. after a few moments, there's a sigh, and Albus dictates absently, casually:]

Some five, six months of work, all lost. Pity.

[pleasantly] Ms. Sage. I believe you have me to yourself for an evening.

[ooc; loss start. gotta run; be back in a couple hours]