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· 🙤 •° · ︻╦デ╤━━╾ ·°• 🙦 ·
╔═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╗
❝ Looks like we still make a good team. ❞
╚═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╝
FOR THE MOST PART, THE rest of the day was rather uneventful. When Vanya told Flare that Ben had died, the girl didn't know how to feel. One second, she feels like a knife has been driven through her chest. Hearing that one of her friends is gone forever stings in a way she has felt one too many times.
But she swiftly reassures herself. Whatever happens in this time period is irrelevant. She won't be staying here long. Eventually, Flare will return to her original time period, and learn how to prevent doomsday from there. She could bide more time that way.
This is only temporary, she reminds herself.
After receiving the bad news, something positive did come her way: Reginald's funeral. Unsurprisingly, it didn't go smoothly. Luther and Diego began to quarrel barely five minutes in, which escalated into a full-on kickboxing match. They ended up knocking over a massive statue in the process. Flare wasn't even there for half of it, only stepping outside just in time to see the thing crash to the ground before laughing at their failure and returning inside.
To make things even better, Flare rummaged through the cabinets in hopes of finding some coffee, only to be met with nothing. After a moment's confusion—because, who in America doesn't have a single ounce of coffee grounds?—she remembers that the old man hated caffeine.
The only way she could have gotten any was by sneaking into town during the middle of the night with the Hargreeves siblings. She hasn't guzzled any in a long, long time, and wants to redevelop the caffeine addiction she somehow obtained as a child. Thus, in honor of their old traditions, she decides go on the hunt for a decent cup of coffee (and maybe some pastries, too).
At some late hour in the evening, Flare walks down a dimly lit street. It is a barren, lonely sight, with the sole source of light emitting from a handful of street lamps. Most of them are burnt out, and the others flicker ominously every now and then.
She thought about taking the car, but realized that would only end in disaster, since she doesn't have much experience driving. The only time she can remember operating a vehicle was in Ancient Rome, where she stole a chariot to flee the mob of citizens who tried to persecute her for being an ignifer maga de roma (a fire-bearing witch of Rome). She ended up careening the horses into a fountain, which did not feel pleasant to say the least.
Maybe I can make this trek a little shorter.
Flare cracks her knuckles and stretches. She scans her surroundings to ensure no one is nearby, before disappearing in a whoosh of flames. A gust of embers flutter onto the concrete below. When she reappears, she does so about a foot off the ground.
