whenever ember was unsure of what to do next, he decided to study. there was no problem that couldn’t be solved by looking at the situation, learning from the past, and deciding from then what to do in the future. in this case, that meant watching old games.
he decided to start by rewatching the most recent ones, pixel’s games, taking notes on decisions that people had made that had ended them up in a bad situation, one that had left them injured, impaired somehow, or dead. he watched as pixel waited in that tight spot, clearly uncomfortable, watched as the last canon fired, and wondered if he would ever make it to that point.
with a sigh, he turned off the tv and looked over his notes. it was two pages of barely readable nonsense, his handwriting had never been the best, but he could read it and that was that. he set the notebook aside, twiddling his thumbs for a moment before the door to the apartment opened.
he stood, fixed his hair, fixed his shirt and then looked back at the person who had entered. “mr. dorian, hi again, i’m, um, i’m ember, in case you forgot, from the reaping and the train ride. that’s me, hi.” // starter for @dorian-hawthorne
