[ Of the two of them, Adrian is perhaps the most overtly sentimental, but it hadn't taken very much coaxing at all for Fern to agree to have a nice dinner with him to ring in the new year. He's learning that the way to her heart is really through her stomach, and he's picked up a veritable feast's worth of takeout in accordance.
Covering much of their tiny table is an assortment of dumplings, noodles, and rice. It's a much welcome break from pizza or frozen dinners, or whatever they can trade for a hunk of car meat. They can store the leftovers now, Adrian reasons. They don't need to be concerned with leaving the room and losing access to the mini fridge.
Once Fern has settled into her own seat and helped herself, Adrian pours them both drinks. Neither of them are particularly fond of alcohol, so he had opted for a blush pink bottled juice instead.
Dinner is nothing unusual otherwise. Adrian asks after her day, then recounts some anecdotes about his own. There's a companionable lull in conversation before he says: ] It's difficult to believe that it's been nearly half the year already... The time has gone by so quickly.
[ He props his chin up on his hand, idly twisting a few remaining noodles around his chopsticks. ] Everyone I've spoken to is quite convinced that the best course of action is to assume that we won't be returning home.
[ There is something about the end of one year and the start of another to inspire a state of reflection and looking toward the future. That, at least, is nothing new. It isn't something they ever had to experience in Barovia (and for that, Fern is thankful), but now they're here. Further from home than they've ever been, it seems.
When Adrian broaches the subject, Fern can't say she's surprised. It's also been on her mind. She takes a moment to finish the dumpling she'd been chewing and take a sip of her drink, which also happens to give her a chance to think it all over.
Time really has gone by so quickly. Whereas in Barovia a single day could feel like a month, here the days seemed to fly by. People were living here, in a way they hadn't ever been in Barovia, instead trapped under the weight of Strahd's influence and control. Maybe that's why.
And as much as Fern would like to claim that she'd be ready to uproot herself and go home the moment that potentiality presented itself, that's not exactly true. She's met people here, people she would want to say farewells to. She has a strange bond with a man who she hadn't even known before coming to this place, one that baffles both of them. And she's paid off her loan, which both tightens and loosens her tether to Diadem. No more debt, but the motorcycle is hers.
She realizes she's gone quiet for too long, and clears her throat, her gaze settling on Adrian for a moment before she glances away to the television, which is at a low enough volume to not interrupt their conversation. ]
And they might be right. I've heard no word of any record of someone returning to where they came from. Those who vanish might go home... but they could just as well have ended up somewhere else.
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early jan - new years dinner
Covering much of their tiny table is an assortment of dumplings, noodles, and rice. It's a much welcome break from pizza or frozen dinners, or whatever they can trade for a hunk of car meat. They can store the leftovers now, Adrian reasons. They don't need to be concerned with leaving the room and losing access to the mini fridge.
Once Fern has settled into her own seat and helped herself, Adrian pours them both drinks. Neither of them are particularly fond of alcohol, so he had opted for a blush pink bottled juice instead.
Dinner is nothing unusual otherwise. Adrian asks after her day, then recounts some anecdotes about his own. There's a companionable lull in conversation before he says: ] It's difficult to believe that it's been nearly half the year already... The time has gone by so quickly.
[ He props his chin up on his hand, idly twisting a few remaining noodles around his chopsticks. ] Everyone I've spoken to is quite convinced that the best course of action is to assume that we won't be returning home.
no subject
When Adrian broaches the subject, Fern can't say she's surprised. It's also been on her mind. She takes a moment to finish the dumpling she'd been chewing and take a sip of her drink, which also happens to give her a chance to think it all over.
Time really has gone by so quickly. Whereas in Barovia a single day could feel like a month, here the days seemed to fly by. People were living here, in a way they hadn't ever been in Barovia, instead trapped under the weight of Strahd's influence and control. Maybe that's why.
And as much as Fern would like to claim that she'd be ready to uproot herself and go home the moment that potentiality presented itself, that's not exactly true. She's met people here, people she would want to say farewells to. She has a strange bond with a man who she hadn't even known before coming to this place, one that baffles both of them. And she's paid off her loan, which both tightens and loosens her tether to Diadem. No more debt, but the motorcycle is hers.
She realizes she's gone quiet for too long, and clears her throat, her gaze settling on Adrian for a moment before she glances away to the television, which is at a low enough volume to not interrupt their conversation. ]
And they might be right. I've heard no word of any record of someone returning to where they came from. Those who vanish might go home... but they could just as well have ended up somewhere else.
[ Or been turned to dust. ]