Armand St. Just (young_idealist) wrote in stdympna_rp,
Armand St. Just

Dinner: Date November 1st; Day: 001

Since the people around him insisted, Armand selected some food by pointing. He didn't hear what it was, and upon looking at it, didn't recognize it either. Well, the vegetables perhaps. He found a seat and put his head in his hands. Confusion was what he felt most of all. He didn't want to take in his surroundings, even when his head wasn't spinning.

The food smelled enticing. He couldn't quite remember his last meal; so many things were very vague. But he knew he'd been left here, abandoned by those he loved and trusted the most. Was his trust misplaced, or had the unthinkable happened? His hopelessness was beyond prayer, but this seemed like the time to pray. He mumbled a few words over the food, hoping that the Holy Mother would interpret what his tangled tongue and memory couldn't make clear so that Jesus would have mercy on him. Then he picked up the oddly flexible and fragile-looking fork to poke it into the food.
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