Room 206, Friday Morning
Jun. 15th, 2007 03:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dark_slippy_thingWhy no, Valentine wasn't sitting on his bed feeling doomed and possibly particularly helpless. Honest.
Except that he mostly was. Because there was no way to weasel out of this 'save the world' shtick that Will had dragged him into. And he didn't much want to die. And he was not hero material. And he hadn't stocked up enough non-perishable foodstuffs to sneak under his bed and hide until this whole thing blew over.
"To starve under the bed, or not to starve under the bed," he asked a mask that he held in one hand.
"Die one way, die the other, what difference does it make?"
His masks were being jerkfaces today. Even if he was the one supplying the voice. He didn't want to talk to them anymore.
(For Rikku)
Except that he mostly was. Because there was no way to weasel out of this 'save the world' shtick that Will had dragged him into. And he didn't much want to die. And he was not hero material. And he hadn't stocked up enough non-perishable foodstuffs to sneak under his bed and hide until this whole thing blew over.
"To starve under the bed, or not to starve under the bed," he asked a mask that he held in one hand.
"Die one way, die the other, what difference does it make?"
His masks were being jerkfaces today. Even if he was the one supplying the voice. He didn't want to talk to them anymore.
(For Rikku)
