There's not much else in Maruki's mind other than that, and very little holding him together aside from residual adrenaline, as he makes his way back to the castle. He's healed from the wounds sustained toward the end of the fight. His hands haven't stopped trembling. He's exhausted. Azathoth is, perhaps somewhat concerningly, much less exhausted.
Food. Shower. Sleep. Possibly for sixteen hours minimum.
It's quiet; everything is quiet with the sudden loss of the Green Knight, his beasts and his army of the enthralled. But it's a welcome sort of quiet. Home. Maruki takes a moment to lean against the front door after he closes it behind him (Etiquette Lessons For Bugs) and breathe. Considers foregoing the first two points of business and just passing out. Forces himself up to care for himself like a true adult.
Care for anyone else who might be around, too. It's barely a dinner, more reminiscent of what little he had the energy to throw together during the most harrowing times in endless graduate school hell – spaghetti neapolitan assembled in a clumsy, half-aware manner. It's a miracle he manages to chop sausage and mushrooms to add. It'll taste good – a simple comfort food, of course it will – but his mind is so far elsewhere, it's all done by pure muscle memory.
A text fired off to Akechi when it's nearly done: ]
I just finished making dinner if you're anywhere near home.
[ Easy. Simple. Back to routine as normal. As if the Green Knight's forest hasn't relinquished its hold on Somnius after two long weeks.
night of june 26
There's not much else in Maruki's mind other than that, and very little holding him together aside from residual adrenaline, as he makes his way back to the castle. He's healed from the wounds sustained toward the end of the fight. His hands haven't stopped trembling. He's exhausted. Azathoth is, perhaps somewhat concerningly, much less exhausted.
Food. Shower. Sleep. Possibly for sixteen hours minimum.
It's quiet; everything is quiet with the sudden loss of the Green Knight, his beasts and his army of the enthralled. But it's a welcome sort of quiet. Home. Maruki takes a moment to lean against the front door after he closes it behind him (Etiquette Lessons For Bugs) and breathe. Considers foregoing the first two points of business and just passing out. Forces himself up to care for himself like a true adult.
Care for anyone else who might be around, too. It's barely a dinner, more reminiscent of what little he had the energy to throw together during the most harrowing times in endless graduate school hell – spaghetti neapolitan assembled in a clumsy, half-aware manner. It's a miracle he manages to chop sausage and mushrooms to add. It'll taste good – a simple comfort food, of course it will – but his mind is so far elsewhere, it's all done by pure muscle memory.
A text fired off to Akechi when it's nearly done: ]
I just finished making dinner if you're anywhere near home.
[ Easy. Simple. Back to routine as normal. As if the Green Knight's forest hasn't relinquished its hold on Somnius after two long weeks.
Nailed it. Nothing questionable about this! ]