I need to sleep more.
I start a lot of blog entries with “I’ve been really busy this week”, and this is another case where that’s true. Instead of actual anything, this is a snippet of backstory for one of my D&D characters: Fia, who I’ve definitely mentioned before. This is just a moment from her backstory as a rebel in a cell of the sorcerous underground, fighting against the establishment, except this bit is her and her best friend talking. (I haven’t slept enough this week, this is not eloquent, but I’m putting this out there because otherwise there shalt not be anything here.)
— — —
It had been a stressful mission, and Fia was curled up in the corner of the safehouse's broom closet in the comfortable dark. She was enjoying the quiet and playing with a bit of her hair when someone opened the door.
"Go away," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I just need a broom, don't worry," a voice with a thick British accent said. "I'll be out of your hair soon."
Fia sighed. "What did you do this time, John Wells?"
"Nothing! I just need to eat something. Don't worry about it." He pulled a broom out of the closet, narrowly missing her head with the bristles, then closed the door again. She heard him sit down and start chewing on something, probably the broom handle.
A couple minutes later, she broke the comfortable silence. "What do you do when you feel like you failed everyone?"
"Eat a brick. Plot the destruction of the government. Die." She couldn't see, but got the feeling he was shrugging. "You didn't fail."
"I'm the reason you had to get us all out of there before our job was done. I made the noise. I made us fail the mission."
"And? You're also the reason we knew they were coming before we got caught. That's not failure, Fiametta."
She leaned back in the closet a bit and hummed. A minute later she mumbled something John Wells didn't catch.
"Huh?"
"Just... thanks." She smiled a bit.
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