Ludwig had discovered something horrible about himself.
He was bored, and not in the mild sense that could be fixed by reading a book, taking a walk, or watching Thomas repeatedly fail to convince the kitchen staff that a fire spirit should be allowed near the liquor cabinet. Ludwig was genuinely, painfully bored, and it took him longer than it should have to understand why.
He sat in one of the restored rooms of Bastos manor with one leg hanging over the arm of a sofa. Nothing happened while he stared at the ceiling, so he waited a little longer in case the world had merely been delayed.
Still nothing.
His fingers tapped against the fabric several times before he muttered, "Fuck."
Thomas floated nearby and turned toward him. "What happened? That sounded like something went wrong."
"Nothing happened," Ludwig replied. "That's the problem."
