[Sunday came and went in much the same way as a Thundaga. Sudden, bright, and with a lot of ensuing chaos.]
[But all things considered, when Monday rolled around Ardyn seemed in reasonably good spirits; the occasional blank looks and general distant stares seemed mostly under control as he went to the kitchen early in the morning. It occasionally registered as strange that he had to actually eat and sleep again--memories of living so long otherwise tended to make one forget--but heaven forbid he fail to take advantage of the others' cooking.]
[For most of the afternoon, Ardyn was in the dance studio. The glass vase with its flowers was set outside the door (it seemed a waste to risk damaging it) and his black coat was left draped over the bar with Luscinia perched beside it.]
[Ardyn himself would be standing at one end of the hall, taking careful aim at an invisible target...and then throwing an ordinary pen like it was a knife or a dart. Normal enough, until the next fraction of a second when he disappeared in an outline and trail of bright red light, reappearing only a few feet away and catching the pen out of midair.]
[He'd glance back at where he'd come from every time, as though evaluating the vanishing trail left behind. Ardyn went back and forth that same way four or five throws at a time, and whenever he stopped he was out of breath but confident in whatever results he was looking for.]
no subject
[But all things considered, when Monday rolled around Ardyn seemed in reasonably good spirits; the occasional blank looks and general distant stares seemed mostly under control as he went to the kitchen early in the morning. It occasionally registered as strange that he had to actually eat and sleep again--memories of living so long otherwise tended to make one forget--but heaven forbid he fail to take advantage of the others' cooking.]
[For most of the afternoon, Ardyn was in the dance studio. The glass vase with its flowers was set outside the door (it seemed a waste to risk damaging it) and his black coat was left draped over the bar with Luscinia perched beside it.]
[Ardyn himself would be standing at one end of the hall, taking careful aim at an invisible target...and then throwing an ordinary pen like it was a knife or a dart. Normal enough, until the next fraction of a second when he disappeared in an outline and trail of bright red light, reappearing only a few feet away and catching the pen out of midair.]
[He'd glance back at where he'd come from every time, as though evaluating the vanishing trail left behind. Ardyn went back and forth that same way four or five throws at a time, and whenever he stopped he was out of breath but confident in whatever results he was looking for.]