[Well! That happened! And despite how exhausted he is, spent from his burst of adrenaline and emotion combined, life goes on. Stephen has the medical care locked down, and eventually everyone is settled into wherever place they decide to lick their wounds.
Mephisto opts to keep busy. He returns to the courtyard where he and Stephen had sat only a short while ago, knocking over pieces and putting them away. He was losing anyway, so he's fine with the loss of progress.
After that, he heads to the garden, deciding that he needs... something to help him wind down. He isn't there long, studying flowers as hard as he can before ultimately coming away with a few red buds. He carries these up to the library and... searches for a few books while still clutching the flowers in his hand.
... Whatever he's looking for, he inevitably comes up empty, and after casting the flowers aside, settles down with a book on history. There's a lot to catch up on, dry as it all seems to be.
Eventually he returns to his room, book in hand. Though he's fond of his privacy, he leaves the door open in the event that anyone... just needs somewhere to be. He's still worried about his new found charges, and he's not... coping well with that.
Just... don't focus on the fact that he's sitting with his shirt off at the moment. He's sprawled out on the bed, hand braced against the pages as he re-reads the same paragraph again and again. It's hard enough to focus, let alone with something as lengthy as all this.]
no subject
Mephisto opts to keep busy. He returns to the courtyard where he and Stephen had sat only a short while ago, knocking over pieces and putting them away. He was losing anyway, so he's fine with the loss of progress.
After that, he heads to the garden, deciding that he needs... something to help him wind down. He isn't there long, studying flowers as hard as he can before ultimately coming away with a few red buds. He carries these up to the library and... searches for a few books while still clutching the flowers in his hand.
... Whatever he's looking for, he inevitably comes up empty, and after casting the flowers aside, settles down with a book on history. There's a lot to catch up on, dry as it all seems to be.
Eventually he returns to his room, book in hand. Though he's fond of his privacy, he leaves the door open in the event that anyone... just needs somewhere to be. He's still worried about his new found charges, and he's not... coping well with that.
Just... don't focus on the fact that he's sitting with his shirt off at the moment. He's sprawled out on the bed, hand braced against the pages as he re-reads the same paragraph again and again. It's hard enough to focus, let alone with something as lengthy as all this.]