Mementomori was hunched over the bag, arms braced on either side, one of the wounds on the side slowly seeping once more through the carefully applied wrappings on the half open shirt (having been unable to close it all the way without disturbing the bandages). His face was unseen, blocked by a cascade of hair, the silver patch as clear as day at this angle. He was trembling slightly. When they spoke, their voice was cold, hollow, a shell of social niceties barely held together by a fraying string, a poor actor reciting their lines with nothing behind them.
"I should go. I've overstayed my welcome, clearly. Have a lovely night." He stood, face still shadowed, taking the bag's handle and pulling it to his side as he turned away.
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Date: 7 Jul 2025 19:45 (UTC)"I should go. I've overstayed my welcome, clearly. Have a lovely night." He stood, face still shadowed, taking the bag's handle and pulling it to his side as he turned away.