#morosstarter

Now, if this were any other sort of situation. Someone happening to see a young male writing in a book might of mistaken that male for perhaps writing a story, or maybe something like that. Though you could suppose that that was the case, anyway. Because for Moros, this was a story he was writing. He could not stop himself from writing it either. He seemed to just become taken over by some other force when he was writing. Fate wasn't an easy thing to have control over. Being the one who wrote it was not exactly the easiest job in the world.

Lifting his hand up from the book he closes it with his other " You three should be working." He says, then slowly turns away from the table he was sitting at. Standing up he looks up  toward the ceiling and watches as streams of light green swirl over their heads " This one looks like it is swaying a little bit." He blinked then looked away. The threads of fate were obviously very important. Without them, there would be chaos, and the world, and going so far as even the entire universe would all implode on itself, because reasons.