(She taps her fingers on the cover of the journal, and gazes out across the fountain. The others have tried to talk to her about what will happen to her writing if something happens to the seven of them but Lucretia journals anyway, despite the chance that it all may culminate in nothing. Writing grounds her. It's what she does.
no subject
(She taps her fingers on the cover of the journal, and gazes out across the fountain. The others have tried to talk to her about what will happen to her writing if something happens to the seven of them but Lucretia journals anyway, despite the chance that it all may culminate in nothing. Writing grounds her. It's what she does.
The mood feels a little somber, now.)