in which the war is the least of Len's worries.
characters: Len and Rin
location: Outside the bakery.
time: Some time after Rin's intro.
rating: G for gratuitous abuse of Len.
open/closed: Closed.
summary: This. This is a match made in Hell.
Len was not an optimist. He wasn't even a realist. He had spent his life thus far expecting nothing and getting even less. That was, at least, until he woke up in this strange land named Solace.
Solace.
He had searched for the word in a dictionary the first chance he had gotten. (And what small bliss it was, too, to have a dictionary at hand whenever he wanted one.)
sol-ace
-noun 1. comfort in sorrow, misfortune, or trouble; alleviation of distress or discomfort. 2. something that gives comfort, consolation, or relief: The minister's visit was the dying man's only solace.
-verb (used with object) 3. to comfort, console, or cheer (a person, oneself, the heart, etc.). 4. to alleviate or relieve (sorrow, distress, etc.).
Solace. It was such a beautiful word. And it rang true for him, that in this land he had found the most comfort his life had ever known. But even with the change of fortune, Len did not consider himself redeemed. He wasn't able to see the world as any less cruel or cold, because he knew that calamity was still out there. All that had changed was his understanding of the world's capacity for kindness.
And so Len couldn't help the terrible weight he felt in the pit of his stomach at Keir's leaving, especially after exchanging those parting words. To Len, Keir's reluctant admittance that he might not return was the same as saying he would never. That was the reason Len excused himself from Roxas' side at the bakery in the middle of the day, venturing out into the street.
It was a nice day with a pleasant breeze, strong enough that Len could hope his letter could go where he needed it to go.
He folded the sheet of paper with practiced ease, gaze cast into the sky.
Funny, how his life always seemed to come back here. Sending letters to people who had turned their backs on him.
location: Outside the bakery.
time: Some time after Rin's intro.
rating: G for gratuitous abuse of Len.
open/closed: Closed.
summary: This. This is a match made in Hell.
Len was not an optimist. He wasn't even a realist. He had spent his life thus far expecting nothing and getting even less. That was, at least, until he woke up in this strange land named Solace.
Solace.
He had searched for the word in a dictionary the first chance he had gotten. (And what small bliss it was, too, to have a dictionary at hand whenever he wanted one.)
sol-ace
-noun 1. comfort in sorrow, misfortune, or trouble; alleviation of distress or discomfort. 2. something that gives comfort, consolation, or relief: The minister's visit was the dying man's only solace.
-verb (used with object) 3. to comfort, console, or cheer (a person, oneself, the heart, etc.). 4. to alleviate or relieve (sorrow, distress, etc.).
Solace. It was such a beautiful word. And it rang true for him, that in this land he had found the most comfort his life had ever known. But even with the change of fortune, Len did not consider himself redeemed. He wasn't able to see the world as any less cruel or cold, because he knew that calamity was still out there. All that had changed was his understanding of the world's capacity for kindness.
And so Len couldn't help the terrible weight he felt in the pit of his stomach at Keir's leaving, especially after exchanging those parting words. To Len, Keir's reluctant admittance that he might not return was the same as saying he would never. That was the reason Len excused himself from Roxas' side at the bakery in the middle of the day, venturing out into the street.
It was a nice day with a pleasant breeze, strong enough that Len could hope his letter could go where he needed it to go.
He folded the sheet of paper with practiced ease, gaze cast into the sky.
Funny, how his life always seemed to come back here. Sending letters to people who had turned their backs on him.