[ Emporio may not have gone to school, but that leaves just enough room for one memory to make its way to him. Visions of classrooms and hallways peek through the rain. A group of boys surrounds him again, pushing him back and forth between each other until he finally hits the ground hard. His books and papers scatter across the floor, and wild laughter fills the air. Oops, they say through crooked smiles, but he gives them nothing, focused only on reaching for the journal in front of him.
One kicks him back when he gets too close, and another snatches it up and away. What a freak, they call him, jeering at his notes and drawings before ripping at the pages and tossing the scraps in his face. The sound is enough to make his ears burn, but with no other reaction elicited, they eventually leave him to pick up the pieces, all alone.
Laios, for what it's worth, is running back toward the Archives, caught in a sudden storm and none the wiser. ]
stormy moods (i'll take uuuh one dark and sad please)
One kicks him back when he gets too close, and another snatches it up and away. What a freak, they call him, jeering at his notes and drawings before ripping at the pages and tossing the scraps in his face. The sound is enough to make his ears burn, but with no other reaction elicited, they eventually leave him to pick up the pieces, all alone.
Laios, for what it's worth, is running back toward the Archives, caught in a sudden storm and none the wiser. ]