They sing "raindrops falling on my head"
Who: Melchior Gabor and anyone
Where: The lounge
When: Afternoon of the day after Melchior's depressing almost non-conversation with Jason
Summary: Melchior comes out to ponder the rain and is starting to feel a little more like himself than he has in a long time -- you know, whatever the hell that means.
Melchior wasn't sure what to think of the rain.
He welcomed the change with a kind of hunger -- as though he'd been thirsty all this time and finally the water had come. At first he could've run out and danced in it. But as the days passed the thunder and flashes of lightning seemed like an awful omen -- Melchior usually scuffed at superstition, but his ideas on a lot of things were changing.
He pulled a chair up to a window in the lounge, twisting his body so he could stare out the window for a while. The raindrops hurried down the window like a race, and when he reached out to touch the glass, as though he'd be able to feel them there, it was cold to his touch -- so strange.
He'd spent the night after his encounter with Jason locked up in his room, he was a little embarrassed to recall, crying. He couldn't even remember when he had last really cried. He just... never had time for that before -- could never afford to let himself break down. There were always people he had to stay strong for or things he had to think about. It was only recently that he was losing his sense of fight at the hotel -- he didn't see any way out and a lot of people smarter than him couldn't either, so for now he allowed himself to settle in there, and so it seemed okay to feel "normal" for the first time in almost a year. Though he hadn't really changed much at all and his secrets he still kept bitterly only to himself, at least now he felt like he could open his eyes a little more -- to really see everything around him outside of the turmoil inside himself. And so he could sit and see the rain and not feel like he had to think about the world he left behind.
Instead he could think about other people, since at heart he was a bit of a gossip and the hotel network gave him the opportunity to snoop around in a lot of people's business. Lots of new arrivals, lots of drama of which he was only seeing the edges. He felt like he had been fairly well separated from the other goings-on at the hotel and he wasn't sure if that was such a good thing anymore. He was badly in need of some quality distraction.
Where: The lounge
When: Afternoon of the day after Melchior's depressing almost non-conversation with Jason
Summary: Melchior comes out to ponder the rain and is starting to feel a little more like himself than he has in a long time -- you know, whatever the hell that means.
Melchior wasn't sure what to think of the rain.
He welcomed the change with a kind of hunger -- as though he'd been thirsty all this time and finally the water had come. At first he could've run out and danced in it. But as the days passed the thunder and flashes of lightning seemed like an awful omen -- Melchior usually scuffed at superstition, but his ideas on a lot of things were changing.
He pulled a chair up to a window in the lounge, twisting his body so he could stare out the window for a while. The raindrops hurried down the window like a race, and when he reached out to touch the glass, as though he'd be able to feel them there, it was cold to his touch -- so strange.
He'd spent the night after his encounter with Jason locked up in his room, he was a little embarrassed to recall, crying. He couldn't even remember when he had last really cried. He just... never had time for that before -- could never afford to let himself break down. There were always people he had to stay strong for or things he had to think about. It was only recently that he was losing his sense of fight at the hotel -- he didn't see any way out and a lot of people smarter than him couldn't either, so for now he allowed himself to settle in there, and so it seemed okay to feel "normal" for the first time in almost a year. Though he hadn't really changed much at all and his secrets he still kept bitterly only to himself, at least now he felt like he could open his eyes a little more -- to really see everything around him outside of the turmoil inside himself. And so he could sit and see the rain and not feel like he had to think about the world he left behind.
Instead he could think about other people, since at heart he was a bit of a gossip and the hotel network gave him the opportunity to snoop around in a lot of people's business. Lots of new arrivals, lots of drama of which he was only seeing the edges. He felt like he had been fairly well separated from the other goings-on at the hotel and he wasn't sure if that was such a good thing anymore. He was badly in need of some quality distraction.