timebethine (
timebethine) wrote2024-03-19 01:37 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
[Semi-Closed Post: Aornis Is a Real Headache]
Somewhere around midnight, a migraine descended on Laertes like a thunderhead, and he still hasn't come out from beneath its anvil. He's spent most of the day hiding in bed with the curtains drawn, feeling as though he's about to be sick--and that feeling's only grown worse as the sun has drifted sluggishly to a low apex in the sky.
It isn't until mid-afternoon that he feels well enough to make progress on all his plans. He needs to speak to SecUnit about its drones, to Dionysus about whether Avernus (that is her name, isn't it?) is a goddess, and to Nightingale about whether he can offer magical support in case their confrontation goes sour. He needs to talk with Claudius about what to say when he does speak to her.
So it is that he starts making his rounds through the mansion and its grounds, seeking out friends old and new, clinging grimly to the thermos of coffee that smells sickeningly strong but also helps drive back the pain. His face is wan, his eyes shadowed. He would rather be doing anything but this.
It isn't until mid-afternoon that he feels well enough to make progress on all his plans. He needs to speak to SecUnit about its drones, to Dionysus about whether Avernus (that is her name, isn't it?) is a goddess, and to Nightingale about whether he can offer magical support in case their confrontation goes sour. He needs to talk with Claudius about what to say when he does speak to her.
So it is that he starts making his rounds through the mansion and its grounds, seeking out friends old and new, clinging grimly to the thermos of coffee that smells sickeningly strong but also helps drive back the pain. His face is wan, his eyes shadowed. He would rather be doing anything but this.
no subject
"So what is your plan exactly? Walk right up and say 'hello, I'm Shakespeare's Laertes, are you a goddess and are you planning on sending me to -- back to my story? Also, while we're chatting, have you been dishing out nightmares? What are your thoughts on driving people mad?'" He rubs his face. This day just keeps getting worse. "Sorry. That was mean, I'm sorry. I'm just worried."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
There is still absolutely nothing about this entire situation he approves of, but it doesn’t seem like he has any choice in the matter.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject