(no subject)
It's been a long couple of days for Auggie.
Despite his best efforts, the change in landscape is still screwing him up. He's always prided himself in being able to fend for himself despite the worst circumstances. He didn't live through what he did to be coddled, and the last thing he wants is people feeling sorry for him. And yet here he is now, still having to admit to himself that he probably couldn't find much without someone's help. The carriages the island seem to have running all the time now are about the only reason he isn't joined to Annie's hip at this point, because he can tell it where he wants to go and be dropped off in front. That really isn't the same as having independence, though, and he knows it. Knows that if they suddenly stop one day, he's right back to needing assistance to find things he used to be able to walk himself to when the island was an island.
And Annie?
The mistletoe stunt this place pulled didn't help endear him to this new holiday setting. That he can't stop thinking about it as much as he tries not to is getting a little worrying. He's not willing to admit it, but he knows he's been a little more distant with her than usual because of it since then, and he kind of hates this place for doing that too. Considering how early it is, he has to hand it to the place to make him already call the month a complete wash.
For the most part, at least, he hasn't actually let it get to him too much. He hates taking the carriages, but he does anyway more often than not, knowing that he really can't beat himself up over not wanting to wander around the cold, ice-slicked roads just because he's too stubborn. When he's inside buildings, he's got a handle on things for the most part, though he's wary to go through any doorways with anyone. It's the seventh day since the weather changed, and for the most part, he knows things could be worse.
That doesn't stop him from letting the little things get to him once in a while. While he can let things slide when he isn't stressed out, they pick away at him when he is. This morning, the tipping point is over coffee. All he wants is a cup, and it should be simple. Hell, when he walked in, he could smell someone had made a fresh pot. But when he went to where the sugar's usually kept - which he can recognize by the shape of the jar it's kept in is - it isn't there. It's not on any of the other shelves nearby either.
Logically, he knows he can't actually blame anyone for not keeping things exactly the same way. It doesn't stop the feeling of frustration that rises when he realizes it literally could be anywhere in the kitchen, and his cane - which has also changed, the handle of the piece of technology oddly steampunk-like in design - can only tell him so much through use of vibration. He rubs his temples, nearly toying with the idea of going to the Hub and maybe putting some alcohol in his coffee instead when he hears the telltale sounds of footsteps nearby. It's only how little he actually wants to spend time groping around looking for the jar while his coffee gets cold that makes him speak up.
"Do you see the sugar anywhere?" he asks as soon as he's sure the person is in earshot, and despite a valiant attempt, he can't quite hide the fact he isn't exactly pleased right now.
[OOC: Despite appearances, it's actually never a bad time to meet him. ;) Timed to any time in the morning. If you haven't, I'd love it if you filled out his resource post here.]
Despite his best efforts, the change in landscape is still screwing him up. He's always prided himself in being able to fend for himself despite the worst circumstances. He didn't live through what he did to be coddled, and the last thing he wants is people feeling sorry for him. And yet here he is now, still having to admit to himself that he probably couldn't find much without someone's help. The carriages the island seem to have running all the time now are about the only reason he isn't joined to Annie's hip at this point, because he can tell it where he wants to go and be dropped off in front. That really isn't the same as having independence, though, and he knows it. Knows that if they suddenly stop one day, he's right back to needing assistance to find things he used to be able to walk himself to when the island was an island.
And Annie?
The mistletoe stunt this place pulled didn't help endear him to this new holiday setting. That he can't stop thinking about it as much as he tries not to is getting a little worrying. He's not willing to admit it, but he knows he's been a little more distant with her than usual because of it since then, and he kind of hates this place for doing that too. Considering how early it is, he has to hand it to the place to make him already call the month a complete wash.
For the most part, at least, he hasn't actually let it get to him too much. He hates taking the carriages, but he does anyway more often than not, knowing that he really can't beat himself up over not wanting to wander around the cold, ice-slicked roads just because he's too stubborn. When he's inside buildings, he's got a handle on things for the most part, though he's wary to go through any doorways with anyone. It's the seventh day since the weather changed, and for the most part, he knows things could be worse.
That doesn't stop him from letting the little things get to him once in a while. While he can let things slide when he isn't stressed out, they pick away at him when he is. This morning, the tipping point is over coffee. All he wants is a cup, and it should be simple. Hell, when he walked in, he could smell someone had made a fresh pot. But when he went to where the sugar's usually kept - which he can recognize by the shape of the jar it's kept in is - it isn't there. It's not on any of the other shelves nearby either.
Logically, he knows he can't actually blame anyone for not keeping things exactly the same way. It doesn't stop the feeling of frustration that rises when he realizes it literally could be anywhere in the kitchen, and his cane - which has also changed, the handle of the piece of technology oddly steampunk-like in design - can only tell him so much through use of vibration. He rubs his temples, nearly toying with the idea of going to the Hub and maybe putting some alcohol in his coffee instead when he hears the telltale sounds of footsteps nearby. It's only how little he actually wants to spend time groping around looking for the jar while his coffee gets cold that makes him speak up.
"Do you see the sugar anywhere?" he asks as soon as he's sure the person is in earshot, and despite a valiant attempt, he can't quite hide the fact he isn't exactly pleased right now.
[OOC: Despite appearances, it's actually never a bad time to meet him. ;) Timed to any time in the morning. If you haven't, I'd love it if you filled out his resource post here.]