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[Dymm Crowley]

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Dymm finally got out of the Garden. He had wanted to see his friend’s wedding, but he hadn’t particularly wanted to leave the house. He vaguely remembered Murdoc asking him to entertain a friend of Tyra’s, whom he figured was Earendil, but he had just barely mustered the energy for conversation. When he got back to his office, he changed out of the suit Murdoc had provided for him and back into his own clothes. There was a lot to be done, with rest being just one of the many. It wasn’t until Dymm sat to do paperwork when he realized how tired he really was. He caught himself nodding off at his desk several times before he resigned to his bed upstairs.

Of course, though, once in bed, he couldn’t find any sleep. He wasn’t sure how safe his home was at the moment. The doors were locked, of course, but that didn’t mean anything if Vesper law enforcement decided to turn up for a visit – or, better yet, a money-hungry bounty hunter. As he lay in bed, his mind wandered to the events that had occurred the previous night. He knew it would be more calming to think of Murdoc’s wedding and reception, but his mind was too focused now.

Phyrra had been speaking to Metios. She was disappointed that he was with the Order of the Ebon Skull. Dymm knew that he didn’t much care either way. Not to mention, he had some contracts left to fill for the Ebon Skull. The disapproval, though, had quickly escalated to a fight – not only with Phyrra, either. Dymm saw a woman sneaking around, speaking to him as if she knew him. He dropped his hand to his side, where his concealed kryss rested. He hadn’t ever had to draw it at such a public place and didn’t expect to now, but just to be safe… It was then that Metios revealed he knew about Phyrra’s job, though. Dymm felt nearly frozen in place, caught off-guard and unsure of what to do.

Before he knew it, one of Metios’ gang was attacking Phyrra. Dymm experienced a moment of consideration, then. Should he forget Phyrra now, keep himself safe, finish up the contracts and make some money? It wasn’t long, though, before his instinct overrode that thought and he drew his kryss. The moment of hesitation, though, proved to be a moment too long – Phyrra had already fallen. Dymm dropped his hands to his sides, holding his kryss stupidly in the middle of Poet’s Garden. He stared with eyes of disbelief – of Metios? of Phyrra? of himself?

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Metios,” Dymm muttered. He was a bit surprised by the shakiness in his own voice. “Good-bye, Metios, and have a nice life, yes?”

There was nothing left to do so Dymm went downstairs, putting away his kryss but not bothering to conceal it at all. He heard Metios following him, explaining he was trying to stop the other fellow, but he didn’t want to hear it at all. Metios worked with the man and Dymm considered Metios to be just “one of them” now. He had gone back home a bit later, but didn’t get any sleep.

And now, a day later, he lay awake in his bed once again. The contracts on his desk were as good as null – they were from the Ebon Skull. His life, also, would be as good as null if he stuck around here too long. He had to go on a vacation, he figured – Phyrra, too, probably. He remembered once speaking about necessary camping, and figured that would probably come again soon.

Giving up on the prospect of sleep for now, Dymm walked to his drawer to begin the necessarily quick process of packing up, writing short letters and setting off. For now, shop was closed up.

[Dymm Crowley]

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*the letter is apparently quickly sprawled and left on the desk of Dymm Crowley*

Ra’ja,
Gone for now. Take a break yourself.
I’ll write more later. Take care and
don’t mention my name.

*an Ace of Spades card is left underneath the message*