[After the dollhouse incident resolves it takes Diavolo a short while to work up the strength to head back to Hestia's Place. There was a brief period where he deeply considered pretending the conversation between the two of them had never happened, shoving it down in his mind as something never to confront. Ignore it. It's not worth the time.
But wasn't confronting his problems head-on once his reason for living? Hadn't it given him purpose? He's been drifting, unable to take action, frightened into hiding away. The only time he's come close to his former resolve was when his mind was so clouded with hunger and desperation that he was acting more on instinct than any rational thought. If the Diavolo of the past could see him now... what would he feel? Shame? Disgust?
That's certainly what the Diavolo of the present is feeling. To think that he was once something better than he is now... he'd been so desperate to never fall from his peak. Now the thought of even beginning to ascend to those heights again feels like an impossible dream.
It's late in the evening when he makes his way to the apartments, preferring the unease of walking alone at night to the risk of being seen - or worse, talked to - in the full light of day. He doesn't bring much with him, just the laptop he'd received weeks earlier... and the doll of himself. That's something to be disposed of somewhere safer than he was staying. He'd thought for a moment about bringing some sort of weapon to defend himself should the need arise, but last time it was utterly useless. If the two are doomed to fight then Diavolo dying is a foregone conclusion. Trying to defend himself only prolongs the inevitable.
When he reaches Doppio's apartment he stands at the door for a bit, ruminating on everything that led up to this point. He'd left no message to alert Doppio when he was coming. He hopes that, somehow, catching him off-guard will be to his advantage. He needs all the advantages he can get.
And so with a hand he struggles to contain the tremor in, he knocks.]
this would have been... august 23rd-ish
But wasn't confronting his problems head-on once his reason for living? Hadn't it given him purpose? He's been drifting, unable to take action, frightened into hiding away. The only time he's come close to his former resolve was when his mind was so clouded with hunger and desperation that he was acting more on instinct than any rational thought. If the Diavolo of the past could see him now... what would he feel? Shame? Disgust?
That's certainly what the Diavolo of the present is feeling. To think that he was once something better than he is now... he'd been so desperate to never fall from his peak. Now the thought of even beginning to ascend to those heights again feels like an impossible dream.
It's late in the evening when he makes his way to the apartments, preferring the unease of walking alone at night to the risk of being seen - or worse, talked to - in the full light of day. He doesn't bring much with him, just the laptop he'd received weeks earlier... and the doll of himself. That's something to be disposed of somewhere safer than he was staying. He'd thought for a moment about bringing some sort of weapon to defend himself should the need arise, but last time it was utterly useless. If the two are doomed to fight then Diavolo dying is a foregone conclusion. Trying to defend himself only prolongs the inevitable.
When he reaches Doppio's apartment he stands at the door for a bit, ruminating on everything that led up to this point. He'd left no message to alert Doppio when he was coming. He hopes that, somehow, catching him off-guard will be to his advantage. He needs all the advantages he can get.
And so with a hand he struggles to contain the tremor in, he knocks.]