David wakes from where he fell asleep last night, and stretches.

He goes to the tree first, irritated he hadn't managed to open his gifts yesterday, but picks them up from under the tree anyway.

Gifts from his secret Santa; Nick and Loki, he picks up, and takes them to a table ( Read more... )

[OOC: Last-Minute-Shopping]

David knows it's late when he enters the bar.

He has one last gift in his hands, with a tag that reads simply: "To my Angel", and he lays it beneath the tree. Not to be picked up. Just so he doesn't keep on playing with it.

If the recipient were to open it, it would be a complete copy of Goethe's Faust, along with a ( Read more... )

[ooc: Pre-Milliways]

*Loki walks in, presents piled in his arms. He walks over to the tree and sets them under it.*

( For Richard )

[OOC: Thought We'd Be On Fire Together]

David makes his way down the stairs from the staff quarters, eyes closed, making his way around the bar by memory more than anything, and when he opens them upon reaching the outdoors, there are tears obscuring his vision and he sits on the edge of the lake, and he cries silently.

[OOC: this is just a ( Read more... )

Angelo wanders in from the staff quarters and looks around.

[ooc edit: now includes violence]

*Loki comes in, still dressed in all black, and gets a drink from the wait-rat. He goes and sits in a dark booth.*

[OOC: In Loki's Room - this is both emotionally, sexually, and verbally violent. Please be warned.]

David fucks with Millitime and enters the bar again. He chooses a booth in the dark corner, and sits with his knees drawn up to his chest, eyes blank, staring into nothingness.

He is the broken shell of a man.

In a continuity where he's not sitting talking to Charlie, David is sitting in a booth on his own, his eyes closed, his feet on the bench opposite him.

He's not sleeping, but he's close.

[ooc:Pre-milliways]

*Loki saunters in. He looks around and then goes and sits at a nearby table.*

[OOC: The Decision Has Been Made]

David stops at the door, Lestat passing him by in a swish of his jacket, and he looks around.

When he returns, things will look much different; brighter and darker all at once.

He has no other choice.

His hand is on the doorknob, and all he has to do is push it and step out.

And yet...*