just here...... tending my plants

[zinit]

[Has it been six months? A year? Three? Qilby thinks it would be depressing to count, so he tries not to; still, the effects of days tick on his mind. The Zinit is busted, as an old piece of metal sometimes Just Does, and with Valerius gone, Qilby can't seem to find the muse to fix it.]

[But he tries: just going through day by day on an awkward momentum, like a top that stubbornly keeps spinning even though it's been put off-balance. He'll find what he's looking for somewhere no, he won't, his sister is dead and she isn't coming back or he'll die trying, with his wakfu back to his Dofus fuck-wherever and his body wilting into these half-dead shores.]

[If someone were to pop in on him, he'd have set up a bit of a camp for himself on the beach, all messy tarps and woven palm leaves. The Zinit towers in the distance, useless for now, next to a pile of failed experiments. He looks tired, but he's still at it, watering his little garden next to the sand.]

[Just a dude, tending his plants. No big.]