![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Omega is quiet on the first Monday after Snow White’s execution. He keeps to himself mostly, patrolling dutifully, keeping to his thoughts to himself.
It’s after the sun goes down that he decides to act on those thoughts, sliding a poorly scrawled note under Ferdinand’s door. The writing is barely legible, but it reads: “MEET ME AT THE ARENA.”
It’s there that he waits for his friend, staring up at the moon, nervousness and guilt weighing on his mechanical heart.
It’s after the sun goes down that he decides to act on those thoughts, sliding a poorly scrawled note under Ferdinand’s door. The writing is barely legible, but it reads: “MEET ME AT THE ARENA.”
It’s there that he waits for his friend, staring up at the moon, nervousness and guilt weighing on his mechanical heart.
