[ The little after-trial gatherings they've taken to having every week are always a little strange. Nobody dares call them funerals or wakes – even though that's precisely what they are – and no matter what's happened, they inevitably turn into a process of licking each other's wounds to prop themselves back up for the week to come.
Aesc is expected to attend, so she attends. She is expected to eat, so she eats. The tradition she can't bring herself to abide by is the part where everyone puts on false smiles and lies through their teeth that they won't allow such a horrible thing to happen again. The worst part is, some of them even seem to believe it.
She's brooding over all this (or, let's be real, sulking) off to the side by herself, so wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely even notices Ardyn's approach. She jolts in surprise and blinks like a person drawing herself out of a dream and– ]
... is this... safe to drink?
[ Coffee is... not supposed to be that colour or consistency. Is it? ]
oughh they are so norma.
Aesc is expected to attend, so she attends. She is expected to eat, so she eats. The tradition she can't bring herself to abide by is the part where everyone puts on false smiles and lies through their teeth that they won't allow such a horrible thing to happen again. The worst part is, some of them even seem to believe it.
She's brooding over all this (or, let's be real, sulking) off to the side by herself, so wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely even notices Ardyn's approach. She jolts in surprise and blinks like a person drawing herself out of a dream and– ]
... is this... safe to drink?
[ Coffee is... not supposed to be that colour or consistency. Is it? ]