crimson

[heymcfly]

[ It was so quiet anymore.

Before the string of murders started, it seemed like the Academy had been bursting with energy. Petitions for chicken rooms, men to run around shirtless. There had been parties to help strangers become friends, rather than to boost morale because there had been another murder and a following execution. Things were so light compared to how they were now.

With Logan gone and the sleepovers taking place, Marty could hardly keep his head on straight anymore. It was like this place was slowly driving you crazy, not knowing whether you'd make it to see the next day or not. Whether it was because of someone you knew or a weird shadow thing, your existence was always questionable here.

He wanders through the building, but eventually he gravitates back up to the bar. After seeing his mother cling to alcohol for every answer through the years, Marty swore he would never do the same and turn to the can when he was in doubt. Her life was never in question though, not like his here. Not like anybody's, for that manner. One little beer wouldn't hurt him, age be damned.

Up the stairs he goes, through the pool room and into the bar. Marty'll look around once, twice. And if the coast is clear, he'll try and hit himself up with a can or two, just for today. ]

Comments

[forcegalactic]

[Modecai jumps at the noise and his hand twitches before he notices the glass on the floor.]

Wh- [What was he thinking? Or not thinking, in this case?] Well, now I got a perfectly good glass broken. This won't do.

[Like hell he's going to leave this pointy mess on the floor. He sidesteps the glass and walks across the length of the bar, looking for a dustpan or anything to sweep it up.]

Sorry about that. [He takes out the dustpan and brush and pulls the wastebasket over to the mess.] Lemme clean this up real quick.

[He kneels on the floor and begins carefully sweeping it up.]

[heymcfly]

[ Marty watches Mordecai gather a dustpan, starting to sweep the little pieces of glass into a pile. He breathed out the air he just realized he had been holding, before slipping out of his chair and onto the floor. ]

Hang on. Glass is kinda tricky. Least that's what my mom always said. [ Then something about cleaning the area with a wet paper towel, so you wouldn't leave any fragments lying around. Didn't want people getting their feet cut up, anyway. ] Glass is always a pain in the ass.

[ Poetry.

He looks around for a trash bin when the glass is swept up. ] Is that it?