"Are you sleeping okay?"
❝Ah, Angela. I didn’t expect you to be up.❞
ᒥ ∽♔∽ ᒧ Randall was perched just outside, on the balcony overlooking the city. There was something weighing on his mind, something that prevented him from sleeping much anymore. He’d lay down in the quiet of his room, finally relaxing after a long day’s struggle against the Masked Gentleman, when his mind would start racing. From there he’d be sent into a downwards spiral on how none of this would be happening if he had just...
❝I, ah, never was one to get a full nights sleep.❞
ᒥ ∽♔∽ ᒧ He’d shake himself from this train of thought as long as he could. He wouldn’t show weakness in front of Angela. He was Randall Ascot for crying out loud, a world famous archaeologist, there was no way he’d be able to tell her what was wrong, what happened to make him this way, and especially not about the nightmares. But looking out to Monte d’Or didn’t help. His bustling city founded on the grounds of friendship and loyalty. A city that never would have had to be founded in the first place if he...
❝But... there is something that’s been...❞
ᒥ ∽♔∽ ᒧ Yes, there was something weighing heavily on his mind, and he knew he needed help, someone, anyone to be by his side and help him through this rough time. Since the Masked Gentleman had appeared, that constant reminder of the Mask of Chaos has only made his mind wander more and more often towards...
❝Never mind, it’s nothing.❞
ᒥ ∽♔∽ ᒧ That’s right, he had to be alone in his endeavor, in his struggle against guilt and regret. His mind flashed to Hershel once again, and the kind smile he’d give Randall when the redhead would cave and go to him for help. That’s a smile he’d never see again, because he was a fool. Because he dropped his best friend down into a bottomless abyss, because he was weak, prideful, and stupid.