WHO: Cedric Diggory
WHAT: just thinking
WHEN: Sunday evening
WHERE: Dangerfield
It was a little amusing that the town had so completely embraced something they'd started out being so afraid of. And all Robbie had done was followed his instincts, with no ulterior motives or grand design. Help people, as many as possible in the time allowed. People were grateful. People appreciated him. Robbie was probably singlehandedly changing the way the people of Rowan viewed Necromancy. Cedric was just glad to see him smile again. Most days, that was enough to keep him going.
He would have preferred his own purpose, but what did he expect, really? The elves had lied to them, the demons had killed Ginny, and the humans just seemed wrong somehow. If the King's brother wasn't even trying to hide his racism, how bad must it be, running throughout the whole nation like an undercurrent. He had reasons to not fight for and with any of them, and no reasons to fight, other than stopping a war that he hadn't had any part in starting.
In any case, he didn't feel like he had to be in a huge rush. Huge rush to go nowhere. Mikney had come to see him before everyone set out, briefly. He'd wanted to give him back his journal. Cedric hadn't really had it in him to muster the hate again. Mikney... he didn't actually remember him saying anything important. Just standing there, looking awful, and like there was nothing he wanted in the world more than to make it better. Cedric didn't believe that was actually true, but he'd still walked over and taken the journal.
Not that he'd done much with it. It was sitting on the little table in the room that Titus Dangerfield was paying for, a sign of appreciation for the peace Robbie was bringing to his citizens in death. Cedric found himself really liking the man, in spite of himself. That also surprised him. When had he decided that anything positive about this place couldn't possibly be the status quo? Not a healthy world view, even if the world in question was wrong.
Cedric sighed and folded his arms under his head, staring at the ceiling and trying to come up with something, anything he could do to feel like his life here meant something. Robbie thought that maybe he'd had to put up with all the shit he'd gone through to come here and receive this power and help people complete their journeys. His thoughts wound their way around to Cherry, even though he didn't want them to. That was a headache and a half, and he still wasn't sure what, if anything, there was to be done about it She had Cordelia, she wasn't talking to him, and she'd changed. She'd changed a lot.
Cedric sighed again, sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed. If RObbie could wander the town at night looking for souls to lay to rest, Cedric was happy for him, but that didn't mean he had to sit around and do nothing and feel like a leech. Somewhere in this place there had to be something he could do to feel acknowledged, if not appreciated, and he was heading out to find it.