[ Yeah. Alan is just dumbfounded, staring at his hands. He's only been this confused and at a loss once in his entire life - well his new life as a reaper. Just once. When he woke up from the dead as a reaper. It feels like all the air was sucked out of the room. He feels like he's disconnected from his body, from this moment.
Grim Reapers can die? Well, yes at the hands of a demon certainly and Alan was prepared and fully aware of that but this? What was this? Just as things had settled and he was finding his footing, adjusting to this new existence the rug, the floor and any sense of a stable foundation seemed to be ripped from beneath his feet. Now he found himself falling into quicksand; sinking fast.
But then there's Mr. Spears an he's offering a hand. Alan stares up at him for a moment, still lost, still dazed. But there's something about William, either his expression or the familiarity when he feels he's drowning in uncertainty -
Alan is taking his hand tightly in his own and moving to his feet. Mentally, bracing himself to go back out there and make the walk back to the offices.
It's a walk that doesn't happen and Alan can't help but be profoundly grateful for this fact. ]
A seat? Yes, thank you, Sir.
[ His voice is a little strained an hoarse - from shouting, crying, sobbing. Alan sits in the chair across from William's desk. There's a faint tremble to his hands but he presses them against his lap. He's already cried himself out so there's no more tears to come out.
His eyes drift closed after making a sweep of William's office. Thankfully, no one really dares to come in here without permission; or maybe it could be that most of them have long gone to their own homes for the evening? He doesn't know it doesn't matter.
At that question, Alan swallows hard. It feels like there's still a thick lump lodged in his throat that has been there this whole time. No amount of water he'd drank in the infirmary had been able to dislodge it or make it go down. ]
I - I don't know.
[ He gestures his hands, still shaking before he balls them up once again resting them in his lap. ]
I don't know what I feel. Or how I'm supposed to feel. [ A pause. ] Angry? Ashamed? Foolish? Disappointed? Like I failed? Like... everything was just ripped away and I'm floating anchorless?
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Grim Reapers can die? Well, yes at the hands of a demon certainly and Alan was prepared and fully aware of that but this? What was this? Just as things had settled and he was finding his footing, adjusting to this new existence the rug, the floor and any sense of a stable foundation seemed to be ripped from beneath his feet. Now he found himself falling into quicksand; sinking fast.
But then there's Mr. Spears an he's offering a hand. Alan stares up at him for a moment, still lost, still dazed. But there's something about William, either his expression or the familiarity when he feels he's drowning in uncertainty -
Alan is taking his hand tightly in his own and moving to his feet. Mentally, bracing himself to go back out there and make the walk back to the offices.
It's a walk that doesn't happen and Alan can't help but be profoundly grateful for this fact. ]
A seat? Yes, thank you, Sir.
[ His voice is a little strained an hoarse - from shouting, crying, sobbing. Alan sits in the chair across from William's desk. There's a faint tremble to his hands but he presses them against his lap. He's already cried himself out so there's no more tears to come out.
His eyes drift closed after making a sweep of William's office. Thankfully, no one really dares to come in here without permission; or maybe it could be that most of them have long gone to their own homes for the evening? He doesn't know it doesn't matter.
At that question, Alan swallows hard. It feels like there's still a thick lump lodged in his throat that has been there this whole time. No amount of water he'd drank in the infirmary had been able to dislodge it or make it go down. ]
I - I don't know.
[ He gestures his hands, still shaking before he balls them up once again resting them in his lap. ]
I don't know what I feel. Or how I'm supposed to feel. [ A pause. ] Angry? Ashamed? Foolish? Disappointed? Like I failed? Like... everything was just ripped away and I'm floating anchorless?