[CLOSED] everybody knows that

[subtract]

Who: Add & others
When: April
What: catch all for the month!! giving out apologuns, the end of divorce era.... etc
Warnings: slightly less depression than last month

source

((Closed prompts only for this month!! please i'm drowning in march tags still. If you'd like to do something with Add, feel free to hit me up on plurk at BlueFlewFedUQueen, ping me through the game discord, or comment to my plotting thread!))

Comments

for Noah, backdated to March dreamshare event because who's gonna stop me

[devrian]

[sometimes, you get stuck in a bad dream because you wandered into the spooky forest, and sometimes, you then try to escape that dream by wandering into... a different dream. this is how the wrong white-haired child experiment ends up in the Ebalon household.

... well, at least he stumbles into Noah's room before alerting anyone else of his presence. he looks pretty anxious, not in chains (thank fuck) but his clothes are a bit singed and torn, and he slams the door behind him and holds it there for a few seconds like he's expecting someone to chase after him... but when no one does, he gradually remembers how to relax.

anyway, there's some sick kid here asking about medicine

he looks over at Noah, frowning... like, obviously he isn't here to give him medicine? he's like 8??? but something about this situation...]

... Are you okay?

[dolent]

[Noah's eyes focus on this other child. When he heard the door open and shut he'd falsely assumed it was a servant... how did some other kid get in here? He assumes that this kid is from one of the neighbouring houses, rightfully so; Noah knows they exist, but it's not like he's ever met another kid his age. It's not like he can sneak into their yards, sick as he is.

Despite looking like he might keel over and die at any moment, Noah scrambles to the edge of his bed closer to the door, moving through his pile of books at the foot of the bed.]

Your clothes are torn up...

[Sir, that is not an answer to the question?]

The servants are supposed to give me my medicine, [which glows, ominously, on the bedside table nearby; Noah does not so much as give it even an acknowledging glance.] They say it's supposed to make me feel better, but it never does.