Burns Too Bright, Lives Too Fast

Most of the preparations for the afternoon's frat session were already in place, so Arthur had allowed himself the, up until Fandom rare, luxury of some time to slouch about by himself. He was starting to consider investing in a dart board; if nothing else, it could make for some decent practice, right?

For now, that just amounted to fancy, though. Instead he had a book and a radio set attuned to a local news programme. The volume was very, very low, but it was still distracting enough that he was starting to find himself forced to debate whether learning about radio was more important than having some quality time with his book.

One day, he was going to run out of French sci-fi. One day.

[[ half-open door, open post ]]

Later that day, Arthur was slated for a spar with Lord Deadpool and Zack; he supposed he should be using this time to work out his strategy (and work it around Zack's still-too-obvious weaknesses in battle, as he had a fear the man might flail his way into a wrong position eventually and cost them the battle, nevermind his more than realistic picture of Lord Deadpool's skills in battle). He didn't feel the inclination to, however, as happy as he was to focus on anything that wasn't the usual sense of battle-dread in his guts that usually found its way there during a tournament.

Instead, he was choosing to spend this early morning by reaching over and getting himself a book from the bottom of the pile, unassuming, unadorned with any claims to knowledge of tactics or weaponry. It was a novel, the name of Jules Verne writ small across the cover, but Arthur was giving it his full attention.

It was better than lingering on his situation, Katina's situation, the upcoming fight, or the everpresent fact that he was still stuck here-- and, thankfully for Morgana, he was in no mood to seek out anyone to annoy badger bother, although the urge to seek out certain big-eared parties was starting to crop up.

The door was closed.

[[ but the post was not! ]]