Day 60: Intercom, Evening
The intercom jingled at its standard time, with the Head Doctor still in his over-the-top, jovial mood. It seemed not even the evening light could keep down the love he held for his job.
"Good evening, everyone! I hope your soul is filled with music from last shift; I know mine is ( Read more... )
"Good evening, everyone! I hope your soul is filled with music from last shift; I know mine is ( Read more... )
However, the younger man was not in the room by the time his nurse escorted him in. It was no trouble, of course; he could simply start on dinner and eat as much as he could before the rest of the short interlude between day and night was devoted to explaining all that he had learned throughout the day.
Kratos sighed as he sat down, pushing aside the pumpkin pie for his dinner proper, and began cutting up his turkey.
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Tolten was quiet as his nurse returned him to his room, though he smiled when he saw Kratos already seated to dinner. He worried, now and again, that he'd come back and find the man gone like in the horrible stories he heard. He couldn't say he counted the warrior an intimate companion, but...
He was kind and Tolten liked him.
"Good evening," he said, as he took a seat with his own meal. "I hope last night wasn't terrible for you."
And if Kratos wished conversation, there was more than enough opening for it. If he didn't, the young king was just as content to eat in silence.
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"No, it wasn't," Kratos said automatically, too caught up in the task of properly carving his slice of turkey to turn around in greeting. "It was actually rather mundane." Aside from its beginnings, of course, but Tolten hadn't been there to see him writhe in pain as his power manifested itself for the first time in over a month, so he could lie and claim that it had all been very boring.
Turkey cut up properly, he finally shifted in his seat to look at his roommate. "I heard some interesting news today regarding what happened last night, though." Perhaps Tolten had also heard, in which case, he would not need to pull out the note yet again. If not, though, he could continue doing as he had told Castiel that he would.
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"Oh?" The young king cocked his head, rather curious. He didn't find Kratos' mannerisms rude, he was used to the same from Kaim. "I've heard a great deal of supposition and speculation as to what occurred, but it's difficult to say what has a grain of truth and what doesn't."
But that was quite often the way. Everyone had an idea or an opinion, informed or not. And they all ran rampant, twisting and turning together and into one another to craft an intricate web of gossip and possibility. What was pure truth? What was pure fabrication? If anything was either, and everything wasn't just a mix of the two.
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"I would hope that this has that required grain of truth," Kratos said as he extricated his copied note for the second time that day from his pants pocket and handed it over. "The original writer of this is an acquaintance of mine who, as far as I know, has no reason to make any of this up." Castiel seemed like the type who unknowingly wore his heart on his sleeve and who could not tell a lie even if his life depended on it--key word being "seemed", of course. There was always the possibility that something darker lurked underneath the surface, but he did not see any reason for anyone to lie about this sort of thing unless they were that given to trouble-making. Hardly Castiel.
"I am admittedly interested in what you heard, though." Probably simply just theories: everyone had one, of course.
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