Dim lamplight lit up the cobblestone path Garret walked, the brightness seeming to promise warmth though the promises was quickly shattered by the chill given off by the night sky. Sipping from his cold metal flask as he always did when chilled, relying on the warmth of liquor to keep him warm, though he knew that too was a facade. Liquor would settle and he'd be left feeling cold, but that didn't matter now, all that mattered was he felt warm for the time being as he traveled. And he did travel, reaching the destination of a house, the house was common, bland, and could easily be lost in the sea of homes surrounding it. With another swig from his flask, he sighed and entered.
Inside was simple, everything you'd expect from a common home but with little more. Personal Deandroc inspired pieces hung here and there along with a painting of the family who used to be together. Garret picked up the creaking wooden chair, setting it down harshly against the floor and falling into as he stared at the painting in thought. Depicted was a young tanned women, patting a hand atop a teenagers messy long hair, while a young man flashed a wide smile in the background, his attire loose and sailoresqe.
Garret stared and drank, keeping on with the routine before a draft brought him back to reality. Shivering the chill off he shook his head, standing up before he dislodged the painting carefully and rested it against the wall. The wall paint faded where the painting used to hang and there, Garret stared some more. Silence filled the room and despite all the furniture that was there, the room still felt empty.
He felt happy today, being accepted into the closest thing to arena fighting in Regalia, something to remind him of his childhood, of home. But that happiness would leave him, he would manage to mess things up as he did so in the past, and despite the overwhelming grief that overtook him, he refused to cry. He refused to be weak, he refuses to watch himself buckle from stress, and all he could do is hold it in. Instead Garret slipped off his gloves, staring at the faded wall before sending a fist towards it. Splinters surrounded his fist but he didn't care, he pulled back and sent another fist, and another. Garret kept going biting his lip further as the already torn skin tore further.
In the end he slipped on his gloves, took the picture and started off. The home would be forgotten soon, being passed on to another family in hopes they will live happily ever after, But he didn't care, he was selfish and only wanted himself to be happy.
Inside was simple, everything you'd expect from a common home but with little more. Personal Deandroc inspired pieces hung here and there along with a painting of the family who used to be together. Garret picked up the creaking wooden chair, setting it down harshly against the floor and falling into as he stared at the painting in thought. Depicted was a young tanned women, patting a hand atop a teenagers messy long hair, while a young man flashed a wide smile in the background, his attire loose and sailoresqe.
Garret stared and drank, keeping on with the routine before a draft brought him back to reality. Shivering the chill off he shook his head, standing up before he dislodged the painting carefully and rested it against the wall. The wall paint faded where the painting used to hang and there, Garret stared some more. Silence filled the room and despite all the furniture that was there, the room still felt empty.
He felt happy today, being accepted into the closest thing to arena fighting in Regalia, something to remind him of his childhood, of home. But that happiness would leave him, he would manage to mess things up as he did so in the past, and despite the overwhelming grief that overtook him, he refused to cry. He refused to be weak, he refuses to watch himself buckle from stress, and all he could do is hold it in. Instead Garret slipped off his gloves, staring at the faded wall before sending a fist towards it. Splinters surrounded his fist but he didn't care, he pulled back and sent another fist, and another. Garret kept going biting his lip further as the already torn skin tore further.
In the end he slipped on his gloves, took the picture and started off. The home would be forgotten soon, being passed on to another family in hopes they will live happily ever after, But he didn't care, he was selfish and only wanted himself to be happy.
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