closed | for want of wit, to memory now i can't recall,

[murderbaby]

WHO: Mhav, Jone, Amos, and some others.
WHAT: This is a catch-all post for some starters I owe.
WHEN: Post-dream, Mid-Guardian.
WHERE: Gallows, Kirkwall generally.
NOTES: I will keep you informed if something horrible happens.

Comments

[muckspout]

Edgard sighs tremendously and fidgets with his hands while looking down at them.

"Some of them I have, some I can--track down. But, I--"

He looks up at Mhavos and whispers barely audible. "I took them. It's my fault."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos hadn't expected that. He allows his expression to change: a furrowed brow. "Whyever for?"

The real question on his mind, honestly.

[muckspout]

Edgard shrugs and bites at his lip a little.

"Gifts." He says simply. "A couple I just didn't bring back. But, mostly gifts."

He sighs.

"You have a lot of books."

He gestures expansively.

[murderbaby]

This is a failure of poverty, Mhavos realizes, a poverty he has never truly experienced. Never owning anything, borrowing even the air in his lungs, that creates a sort of seperation, but at least Mhavos was always given access to whatever his masters deemed necessary.

Mhavos finds he cannot be angry. Was he even truly angry before? Disappointed, perhaps, but this washes away.

"Yes," he answers, "and they are for everyone." It's as close to chiding as he can get. "Those that can be returned, please do. Otherwise, we'll speak no more of this, yes? Only... promise me it will not happen again."

[muckspout]

Edgard nods, guilt still pulsing through him.

"It will not. Didn't think anyone would ever notice."

He shrugs. It feels important to explain.

"Usually when you take a little from someone who has a lot, it doesn't matter so much. Not trying to--"

He's not sure how to finish the sentence. He hums a little and then,

"You don't have anything to worry about."