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@SELFCROWNED
Jun. 6th, 2020 04:29 am[The boy's dorm room in Abyss hasn't gotten any less messy in the seven months since the war started.
In fact, some would argue it's only gotten worse. (Some being Constance, primarily, in a forty minute tirade that only ended when Yuri threatened to surface for some sun.) He's commandeered the back shelves to transform them into a makeshift desk, littered with papers and books and maps and quills, organized in a way that seems to only make sense to Yuri. The colorful bottles that used to be strewn about here haven't been tidied up, just pushed to one side. He's nesting, Hapi titters whenever she's within earshot. Yuri wishes he had the energy to jab back.
He doesn't have the energy for anything other than Abyss, right now. And for that, just barely. He's added up the budget four times now and still can't get it where he needs. Yuri knows why, can't fool himself. They just plain don't have enough funds. So many mouths to feed, and so few hands to feed them. The cost for food is sky-high, and most merchants don't even make it close to the hollowed-out shell of Garreg Mach monastery-- deserted, supposedly. And it is, save for the forgotten that inhabit its basement. There's hardly even a soul to steal from. Yuri is used to solving difficult problems, enjoys the puzzle of it, but... he's nearing the end of his frayed rope.
He sighs deep, buries his face into his hands. There's a dull, throbbing pressure that's started to well up in his temples, refusing to dissipate even when he presses his thumbs into it. Maybe if he skips dinner for a week, there'll be enough gold to replace the most tattered of the children's clothing.
Maybe he's accidentally bet on something that can't win, this time.
Without realizing it, Yuri has begun to find the surface of his desk rather inviting. His head keeps tilting down every few minutes, hair falling into his face. And then, with little fanfare, Yuri's slumping forward onto his notebooks, falling asleep right there with his face buried into his arms. There's only so much avoiding sleep he can do before his body forces him to catch up like this.]
In fact, some would argue it's only gotten worse. (Some being Constance, primarily, in a forty minute tirade that only ended when Yuri threatened to surface for some sun.) He's commandeered the back shelves to transform them into a makeshift desk, littered with papers and books and maps and quills, organized in a way that seems to only make sense to Yuri. The colorful bottles that used to be strewn about here haven't been tidied up, just pushed to one side. He's nesting, Hapi titters whenever she's within earshot. Yuri wishes he had the energy to jab back.
He doesn't have the energy for anything other than Abyss, right now. And for that, just barely. He's added up the budget four times now and still can't get it where he needs. Yuri knows why, can't fool himself. They just plain don't have enough funds. So many mouths to feed, and so few hands to feed them. The cost for food is sky-high, and most merchants don't even make it close to the hollowed-out shell of Garreg Mach monastery-- deserted, supposedly. And it is, save for the forgotten that inhabit its basement. There's hardly even a soul to steal from. Yuri is used to solving difficult problems, enjoys the puzzle of it, but... he's nearing the end of his frayed rope.
He sighs deep, buries his face into his hands. There's a dull, throbbing pressure that's started to well up in his temples, refusing to dissipate even when he presses his thumbs into it. Maybe if he skips dinner for a week, there'll be enough gold to replace the most tattered of the children's clothing.
Maybe he's accidentally bet on something that can't win, this time.
Without realizing it, Yuri has begun to find the surface of his desk rather inviting. His head keeps tilting down every few minutes, hair falling into his face. And then, with little fanfare, Yuri's slumping forward onto his notebooks, falling asleep right there with his face buried into his arms. There's only so much avoiding sleep he can do before his body forces him to catch up like this.]