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Luke Valentine
20 March 2013 @ 07:46 pm
 
First day of spring. Aside from the year round in bloom sakura tree, the plants have yet to shake off winter. Last week's curse may have thrown them a bit out of sync.


( (Private to Solomon) )
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Current Mood: thoughtful
Current Location: Xanadu
 
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James E. Wilson, MD
20 March 2013 @ 11:53 pm
[ 98th consult | action ]  
[ Wilson hasn't been at the apartment much since the curse on the Ides of March, generally trying to avoid House (inasmuch as he can, since they do still work together). Most of his anger, though, is aimed at the City - the curse, for compelling him to keep fueling the argument. It's more difficult than usual to dismiss it, though, since everything they argued about was real. Points were made that were more uncomfortably true than he could shrug off. While the anger is primarily for the City, the guilt is all his own.

So tonight he's taking some time to think, to reflect quietly and alone as he walks through the streets. He stays in the central areas near the square, a years-old discomfort with being out alone in the City - a discomfort which is worse at night, when the streets are less populous and he can't identify threats as quickly - never entirely leaving him.

As a gust of wind grants him a nice, leftover chill from winter that lingered behind, and he finds himself ducking into a building - The Hall of the Missing.

He used to come here, sometimes, to reflect, to think back on those who have left and consider just how many he's seen come and go. It's been a long time since he had last done so, but it's warm and quiet. Idly, he wonders about his own portrait, one that he intellectually knows has appeared on these walls but which of course he's never seen himself.

He will remain for a while, before again venturing out into the night, for anyone who might happen to see him in passing. ]
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