Set February 1st. Your character may recognize Lou from the most recent issue of Witch Weekly.
Daniel had told him a few days ago that he could hardly just loiter around the cottage feeling depressed for the rest of his life. The problem was that that wasn't true, and they both knew it. The last time that Lou had had his life's plans derailed so entirely, it had taken him six years to decide he wanted to move on, and that had been... different. He wasn't even really sure if it was better or worse, but it was certainly different. He'd thought, prior to this year, that Xena had moved on and forgotten all about him. Lou didn't know whether the idea of starting over with a new life again where she hadn't forgotten him was more difficult, or less. It wasn't as though she was any more accessible to him, this time around, though now he had no one to blame except himself.
Anyway. The point was that he could mope around the cabin forever. It probably wouldn't be a very enjoyable way to spend the rest of his life. So although he didn't feel like going out (he didn't feel like doing anything), Lou had sighed and told Daniel he was right and taken the rather meager grocery list from the other man. The very idea of going out and buying food brought up a fresh wave of resentment in him - because, for all of his pontificating about how he no longer considered himself to have a family, Charles Jameshill was still paying for his daily food. It was his money in Lou's pocket when he finally dragged himself out of the house - without Daniel, although the other man offered to accompany him, because Lou was feeling sore enough about the money and didn't want to drag along his 'babysitter' as well. Daniel meant well. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
He went to Irvingly because he told himself there was less chance of anyone recognizing him, though really that had ceased to be a concern several months ago. He was going to Irvingly because there was less chance of accidentally seeing Xena.
Lou had shaved and put on clean clothes before he left, more for Daniel's sake than his own, but by the time he walked out of the Apparition closet at the Casino this felt almost normal, almost routine. He had worked here, after all, for nearly half a year, and he had made this journey every day. The butcher's shop, which he'd decided to start with, was just across the street from his former employers. Lou wondered, vaguely, whether they still resented how abruptly he'd left their service. Not that he'd felt he had a choice, at the time.
There was a moderate line at the counter, so Lou wandered over to the window nearest the street and leaned up against the wall, waiting. He glanced down at the list he'd been sent with, then noticed that one of his fresher wounds was visible poking out from the edge of his sleeve cuff. He didn't get many scars each month during the full moons, with Gabriel around to calm him, but one or two were inevitable. This one seemed to have opened up during the walk, because there was a bright red stain on the edge of his shirt that was starting to creep out in jagged directions.
There were plenty of ways to solve this, but at the moment Lou couldn't think of a single one that didn't involve magic. He blinked at the blood stain, wondering vaguely how long his wrist would bleed before it stopped without any intervention from him.
Daniel had told him a few days ago that he could hardly just loiter around the cottage feeling depressed for the rest of his life. The problem was that that wasn't true, and they both knew it. The last time that Lou had had his life's plans derailed so entirely, it had taken him six years to decide he wanted to move on, and that had been... different. He wasn't even really sure if it was better or worse, but it was certainly different. He'd thought, prior to this year, that Xena had moved on and forgotten all about him. Lou didn't know whether the idea of starting over with a new life again where she hadn't forgotten him was more difficult, or less. It wasn't as though she was any more accessible to him, this time around, though now he had no one to blame except himself.
Anyway. The point was that he could mope around the cabin forever. It probably wouldn't be a very enjoyable way to spend the rest of his life. So although he didn't feel like going out (he didn't feel like doing anything), Lou had sighed and told Daniel he was right and taken the rather meager grocery list from the other man. The very idea of going out and buying food brought up a fresh wave of resentment in him - because, for all of his pontificating about how he no longer considered himself to have a family, Charles Jameshill was still paying for his daily food. It was his money in Lou's pocket when he finally dragged himself out of the house - without Daniel, although the other man offered to accompany him, because Lou was feeling sore enough about the money and didn't want to drag along his 'babysitter' as well. Daniel meant well. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
He went to Irvingly because he told himself there was less chance of anyone recognizing him, though really that had ceased to be a concern several months ago. He was going to Irvingly because there was less chance of accidentally seeing Xena.
Lou had shaved and put on clean clothes before he left, more for Daniel's sake than his own, but by the time he walked out of the Apparition closet at the Casino this felt almost normal, almost routine. He had worked here, after all, for nearly half a year, and he had made this journey every day. The butcher's shop, which he'd decided to start with, was just across the street from his former employers. Lou wondered, vaguely, whether they still resented how abruptly he'd left their service. Not that he'd felt he had a choice, at the time.
There was a moderate line at the counter, so Lou wandered over to the window nearest the street and leaned up against the wall, waiting. He glanced down at the list he'd been sent with, then noticed that one of his fresher wounds was visible poking out from the edge of his sleeve cuff. He didn't get many scars each month during the full moons, with Gabriel around to calm him, but one or two were inevitable. This one seemed to have opened up during the walk, because there was a bright red stain on the edge of his shirt that was starting to creep out in jagged directions.
There were plenty of ways to solve this, but at the moment Lou couldn't think of a single one that didn't involve magic. He blinked at the blood stain, wondering vaguely how long his wrist would bleed before it stopped without any intervention from him.
Who alone suffers, Suffers most in the mind
Leaving free things and happy shows behind
Leaving free things and happy shows behind
