[limen_inferum]

[permanent_blur]

waiting for guildenstern to come back, rosencrantz sits on the floor of their room in the attic, tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth as he draws in a pile of papers spread around him. each drawing looks, on its own, unremarkable, and the collection an utter waste of paper -- but he stacks them together, flips quickly through the corners. a

Comments

[directionofwind]

He steps in, carelessly, scattering papers with the breeze of his entrance and very narrowly avoiding kicking the cat. "Do you never organize your things?" he asks, petulantly, as though it isn't in some small way endearing to him that Ros doesn't.

[permanent_blur]

cumulus takes that as a cue to jump into the scattered papers, razor claws ripping them to ribbons before ros can save them. "... no?"

[directionofwind]

Cocking his head aside a bit, he notes, "You don't never organize your things; ergo, I must assume that you occasionally organize your things?"

[permanent_blur]

"or i always do. that would be not-never, too." ros tries to salvage the paper he can, but his face falls when he then flips through them, out of sequence and disjointed. "but i don't."