There comes a tired, bitter sigh, breathed into something close. The crook of an elbow, a table, the like. Soon, it's followed by a low groan. He's disappointed. He's disappointed in himself, most importantly.
Somewhere in the distance, far out of attention, is the clinking of glasses, the soft hush of running water, shoes on hardwood. There is a voice, smooth and soothing, but he doesn't seem to respond well to whatever was said.
"My research..."
The other person in the room gives a click of the tongue, but he sighs. How precious his research must have been to him.
"It's all gone... My life's work, up in smoke..."
The weight in his voice is equal parts to the years he lives, it seems—a wizard lives a very long time. Could a wizard as long lived as he have single-handedly pushed an entire world into scientific advancement?
He sighs again into the crook of his elbow, into the bar. Faint in the back of his mind does he register, only scarcely, how the other in the room shuts up shop for the evening, just for his privacy. Blinds pulled shut, latches locked, shoes on hardwood.
"What if..."
The quality of his voice changes, his clothes rustle as he changes position. No longer does he speak despondently into his elbow. His voice carries quiet, but clear through the air.
"What if, after I manage to recoup as much as I can..."
The stool creaks, the footsteps stop. If there could be a sound of gazes locking, the bats would most certainly play that, too.
"...I spread it out, all over the world, hidden? So that should something happen again..."
The other presence sighs, and begins to walk around again. But he continues his thought, mostly to himself, partially to the moon that he cannot see beyond shuttered windows.
sorry for the delay!
There comes a tired, bitter sigh, breathed into something close. The crook of an elbow, a table, the like. Soon, it's followed by a low groan. He's disappointed. He's disappointed in himself, most importantly.
Somewhere in the distance, far out of attention, is the clinking of glasses, the soft hush of running water, shoes on hardwood. There is a voice, smooth and soothing, but he doesn't seem to respond well to whatever was said.
"My research..."
The other person in the room gives a click of the tongue, but he sighs. How precious his research must have been to him.
"It's all gone... My life's work, up in smoke..."
The weight in his voice is equal parts to the years he lives, it seems—a wizard lives a very long time. Could a wizard as long lived as he have single-handedly pushed an entire world into scientific advancement?
He sighs again into the crook of his elbow, into the bar. Faint in the back of his mind does he register, only scarcely, how the other in the room shuts up shop for the evening, just for his privacy. Blinds pulled shut, latches locked, shoes on hardwood.
"What if..."
The quality of his voice changes, his clothes rustle as he changes position. No longer does he speak despondently into his elbow. His voice carries quiet, but clear through the air.
"What if, after I manage to recoup as much as I can..."
The stool creaks, the footsteps stop. If there could be a sound of gazes locking, the bats would most certainly play that, too.
"...I spread it out, all over the world, hidden? So that should something happen again..."
The other presence sighs, and begins to walk around again. But he continues his thought, mostly to himself, partially to the moon that he cannot see beyond shuttered windows.
"...We won't lose it all at once." ]