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Aug. 17th, 2005 02:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lastgunslingerYou'd never know the occupant of Room 99 at Milliways Bar was gone.
It still smells of tobacco here, and gun-oil, and the outside breeze and forest. That's what happens when you smoke with the windows open, your feet thrown up on the windowsill, in order to contemplate the sunset.
In the CD/DVD player is Johnny Cash's last album -- American IV: The Man Comes Around. One odd Manni hymn doesn't make a bad album, after all.
The bed is made, white coverlet neat...except for one wrinkled spot, where maybe a gunslinger sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots and gather his wits before descending for the last time.
No paper on the writing desk. Instead, certain objects are lined along the surface. Joe Manco glares across the room towards the door, on his white box -- only here he is Blondie, a man with no real name.
The occupant of Room 99 knew better.
A sword handcrafted by the master Hattori Hanzo rests in the more used of two armchairs by the window.
There are a few scattered kernels of popcorn still on the floor.
And lined up on the edge of the bed are a series of creamy-white envelopes.
It still smells of tobacco here, and gun-oil, and the outside breeze and forest. That's what happens when you smoke with the windows open, your feet thrown up on the windowsill, in order to contemplate the sunset.
In the CD/DVD player is Johnny Cash's last album -- American IV: The Man Comes Around. One odd Manni hymn doesn't make a bad album, after all.
The bed is made, white coverlet neat...except for one wrinkled spot, where maybe a gunslinger sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots and gather his wits before descending for the last time.
No paper on the writing desk. Instead, certain objects are lined along the surface. Joe Manco glares across the room towards the door, on his white box -- only here he is Blondie, a man with no real name.
The occupant of Room 99 knew better.
A sword handcrafted by the master Hattori Hanzo rests in the more used of two armchairs by the window.
There are a few scattered kernels of popcorn still on the floor.
And lined up on the edge of the bed are a series of creamy-white envelopes.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-17 12:17 am (UTC)She glances around, and her gaze rests for several moments on the carefully arranged objects on the desk, then moves to the envelopes on the bed.
There is a very soft sigh from the Aes Sedai as she picks up the one with her name on it, and sits in the lesser-used chair to read it.
She is very quiet for several minutes after she finishes, the letter held loosely in her hand. Eventually, she folds it very carefully and places it inside her journal, then rises.
Moiraine collects the rest of the letters from the bed as well, and leaves the room, locking the door behind her and taking the key.