[ The hopeful glow of all the good news Orpheus has received recently has yet to wear off on Monday. He wakes early, per usual, in Longacre before going through his morning routine. Shower in the boys' locker room, breakfast in the cafeteria. He's got more coins from whatever mysterious benefactor keeps handing them out, so in the hopes of not having to use them for anything else, he heads to the machine and starts loading them in.
Seventy six more trombones come out, which he's narrowly able to sidestep, along with another Death Note - now that Hester's said they have no real power, he's a little less anxious about it, but he still sets it aside with the intent to take it outside and burn it later. He also gets one of those strange blue plush toys of some unidentifiable creature, an entire French flag, and a bunch of other garbage, when at last something clunks in the machine, apparently getting stuck inside. Frowning in confusion, Orpheus kneels next to it and slides his hand into the slot, fishing around until he's able to get a grip on the object lodged inside. He pulls it free, and -
Finally, after all these years; Orpheus, son of Calliope has a gun
He drops it immediately with a yelp and it skitters across the floor, under one of the tables.
Anyway, after that debacle and after he sorts all of his garbage into the appropriate rooms for storage, he'll head outside to the woods to burn the Death Note, sitting down cross-legged next to the fire and humming softly to himself. If anyone happens across him while he's doing that, he'll wave them over cheerfully and gesture to the ground beside him. ]
Hi! Sorry if the smoke worried you, I just got another one of those cursed notebooks out of the machine.
[ He beams, figuring that's explanation enough. When the fire's burned down, he'll make his way up to the art room with a book he found in the library. Gathering a stack of paper in various shades of red and pink, he carefully cuts them into squares before folding each one into a delicate paper flower. Over the course of the day he develops quite the collection of them, covering the table where he's sitting as he tries out a few different styles but mostly sticks to the roughly carnation-looking ones, which look more and more practiced with each one he does. He hums to himself quietly as he works, gradually surrounding himself with flowers. ]
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Seventy six more trombones come out, which he's narrowly able to sidestep, along with another Death Note - now that Hester's said they have no real power, he's a little less anxious about it, but he still sets it aside with the intent to take it outside and burn it later. He also gets one of those strange blue plush toys of some unidentifiable creature, an entire French flag, and a bunch of other garbage, when at last something clunks in the machine, apparently getting stuck inside. Frowning in confusion, Orpheus kneels next to it and slides his hand into the slot, fishing around until he's able to get a grip on the object lodged inside. He pulls it free, and -
Finally, after all these years; Orpheus, son of Calliope has a gun
He drops it immediately with a yelp and it skitters across the floor, under one of the tables.
Anyway, after that debacle and after he sorts all of his garbage into the appropriate rooms for storage, he'll head outside to the woods to burn the Death Note, sitting down cross-legged next to the fire and humming softly to himself. If anyone happens across him while he's doing that, he'll wave them over cheerfully and gesture to the ground beside him. ]
Hi! Sorry if the smoke worried you, I just got another one of those cursed notebooks out of the machine.
[ He beams, figuring that's explanation enough. When the fire's burned down, he'll make his way up to the art room with a book he found in the library. Gathering a stack of paper in various shades of red and pink, he carefully cuts them into squares before folding each one into a delicate paper flower. Over the course of the day he develops quite the collection of them, covering the table where he's sitting as he tries out a few different styles but mostly sticks to the roughly carnation-looking ones, which look more and more practiced with each one he does. He hums to himself quietly as he works, gradually surrounding himself with flowers. ]