Peridot already had one empty bed. And when the dorm starts crawling awake, they are missing one more. When Solomon finally emerges from the bed with the weight of so many things suddenly arriving at once, he can't do much but sit. Sit, with the silence, with the heaviness, with the urge to crumple up every paper and toss it into the gardens.
Still, he finds the outfit left for him with his things, a tan coat thrown over a dark ensemble and extravagant hanging necklaces of gems and metal, one that flutters behind him in the length of its coattails as he makes his way down the stairs. At his neck, what was once bare skin now blots black like ink over the top of his collar, like a stain spreading.
The second Solomon sees Pinocchio, it hits. The sensation. The knowledge. Another with an agreement.
Immediately, his eyes narrow.
Hello buddy, here comes grandpa, immediately in your direction. Think fast.]
[If by "think fast", you mean, stand there like a vaguely dazed deer in headlights, then that's exactly what he's doing.
The growing emptiness of their dorm feels oddly cavernous, but this morning, with Solomon's appearance drawing nearer, he feels it, too: a connection. The knowledge of a shared agreement. A signed contract. For a moment, that's all that matters, all that fills his mind, and he can't help but mutter a-]
I didn't- Sika offered something in exchange in the future if I ever asked, but I couldn't think of anything on the spot. And yes, I signed a contract.
[ ...
He is getting the sense that maybe this was unwise, now. But in his defense:]
It's nothing I wouldn't have agreed to, contract or no. I didn't see anything wrong with wanting to protect someone who needed it...
[There's a deep sort of pain that crosses Solomon's face, glancing down towards the floor as his thoughts race.
The boy is naive. It's not his fault. But it's a painful lesson to learn, and when the entity is unknown...]
Pinocchio, listen very carefully. I am saying this as someone who makes these contracts very, very often, understood?
Do not do that again.
You never sign something like that, no matter who it comes from, unless you know exactly what they are going to make you do to get what they want. And you never sign something related to a god or a demon on nothing but faith. They will take your soul and eat you alive.
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WEEK THREE - MONDAY
Peridot already had one empty bed. And when the dorm starts crawling awake, they are missing one more. When Solomon finally emerges from the bed with the weight of so many things suddenly arriving at once, he can't do much but sit. Sit, with the silence, with the heaviness, with the urge to crumple up every paper and toss it into the gardens.
Still, he finds the outfit left for him with his things, a tan coat thrown over a dark ensemble and extravagant hanging necklaces of gems and metal, one that flutters behind him in the length of its coattails as he makes his way down the stairs. At his neck, what was once bare skin now blots black like ink over the top of his collar, like a stain spreading.
The second Solomon sees Pinocchio, it hits. The sensation. The knowledge. Another with an agreement.
Immediately, his eyes narrow.
Hello buddy, here comes grandpa, immediately in your direction. Think fast.]
no subject
The growing emptiness of their dorm feels oddly cavernous, but this morning, with Solomon's appearance drawing nearer, he feels it, too: a connection. The knowledge of a shared agreement. A signed contract. For a moment, that's all that matters, all that fills his mind, and he can't help but mutter a-]
Wait... you, too?
[-as he approaches. Help.]
no subject
Pinocchio. Please, tell me what I'm sensing here is not what I think it is.
What did you give them? What did you give Sika?
no subject
I... um. I just gave them my word? That I would come to their and Mikaela's protection if needed?
[IT SOUNDED SO HARMLESS AT THE TIME?]
no subject
Did you ask for anything in return? Sign anything?
no subject
I didn't- Sika offered something in exchange in the future if I ever asked, but I couldn't think of anything on the spot. And yes, I signed a contract.
[ ...
He is getting the sense that maybe this was unwise, now. But in his defense:]
It's nothing I wouldn't have agreed to, contract or no. I didn't see anything wrong with wanting to protect someone who needed it...
no subject
The boy is naive. It's not his fault. But it's a painful lesson to learn, and when the entity is unknown...]
Pinocchio, listen very carefully. I am saying this as someone who makes these contracts very, very often, understood?
Do not do that again.
You never sign something like that, no matter who it comes from, unless you know exactly what they are going to make you do to get what they want. And you never sign something related to a god or a demon on nothing but faith. They will take your soul and eat you alive.
Never again. Understood?