INT. CROW CLUB - NIGHT
Enter : @wanderermanu
Aris had performed most of the mindless tasks he was used to putting his mind to, a habit inherited from his mother that he reconnected with in Hellgate. He'd counted the people there and the number of empty glasses, read every label on every bottle put up against the wall, tried to sort out the players by countries and memorized their accents, every result of every little chore immediatly leaving his head as he started on with the next, straining not to look at his worst enemy, the clock. Though he was used to waiting, he had also gotten used to giving into his boredom. No matter how many fingers he counted, he wouldn't lose sight of himself, and of the fact that in a few moments, he would break down, head out and go do something that would get him reprimanded at some point or another. The more he focused on the voices outside, the voice inside his head counting, the letters on the labels and the colors in the corners of the cards, the more the rest of his vision seemed to blur into darkness. Something behind his thoughts seemed to tick, and the air, bursting with opportunities of small rewards, crowded around him, tickling his back and obscuring everything else. His hand tensed up on the glass (of which he had counted every chiseling) and then let go. He got up and made his way to the door, stopping for a second as he had forgotten which arm was going into each sleeve first. The struggle with his coat was at its height when he caught sight of a blonde head in the corner. He doubted a conversation, even with someone who didn't seem too much annoyed by him, would be enough to keep him put the rest of the night. But then again, it cost him nothing to try. The fishes weren't leaving the Barrel anytime soon. He let go of his godforsaken coat and walked as silently as he could toward the corner where Manu was sitting in his usual position : head bent over a piece of paper, gripping a pencil with the strenght of a dead man. -What is that ? Aris asked as he leaned slightly over his shoulder. He'd barely gotten a look at the paper -it was just manners to announce his appearance, after all. He didn't take a step back once he was noticed, simply smiled, and added : -Don't tell me you've been scribbling all night. How much practice do you need ?
