[Tuesday. The final day, according to Walt, but despite the fact that with no further contact from the enigmatic man Lefou's suspicion is beginning to return, they have no choice but to believe him... right?
So after spending two days effectively grieving and feeling sorry for himself, there's an almost familiar routine in the way that he sorts through the things he's amassed. The door to room 116 is open; it doesn't lock anymore, not since Maui died. And Lefou sits in the middle of the floor, sorting through his and Maui's things. There's a pile for his black and gold waistcoat and the two tuxedos, never worn (except for Maui's trousers), and a pile for the rest of the random items that he never got rid of. Propped against the wall sits an unlit torch, and next to Lefou on the floor is Maui's oar.
Heihei is pecking at some of the gold coins that had scattered across the floor, his practical little harness tied at the other end to Lefou's wrist.
Mulan's armor is laid out in pieces on top of the dressers and on top of his trunk.
Later, after he's done with packing his kit up, Lefou retreats back to room 103 for a while and when he comes out it's clear he's decided to deal with grief by returning to pure, military routine. His hair is cut from the two months of growth that had been making it downright unreasonably long, although it's longer in the back than in the front for lack of a barber. His face is shaved completely and his sideburns brought down to manageable levels, and he is Clean.
Which makes his shirt look even dingier in response, but what do you do when you have no lye and don't know what bleach is. He's wearing the waistcoat that Elsa made for him, with his wet hair pulled back into a ponytail, and he's feeling out the weight of the oar like it's a sword.
Not that he's practiced at swordfighting, either, but swing thing, hit thing, repeat isn't too hard. In theory.
In practice, he ends up panting for breath with grunts and yowls of frustration while he wails on a pillow that he'd brought out from his room.
There are now feathers all over the foyer. Heihei eats one. It's fine. He's fine. His wet hair starts coming out of his ponytail and sticks to his forehead, and he has to stop his rampage to wipe it out of his face. He's eaten nothing but four slices of bread over the last two days and spent three times as much time in bed crying than he has sleeping.]
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So after spending two days effectively grieving and feeling sorry for himself, there's an almost familiar routine in the way that he sorts through the things he's amassed. The door to room 116 is open; it doesn't lock anymore, not since Maui died. And Lefou sits in the middle of the floor, sorting through his and Maui's things. There's a pile for his black and gold waistcoat and the two tuxedos, never worn (except for Maui's trousers), and a pile for the rest of the random items that he never got rid of. Propped against the wall sits an unlit torch, and next to Lefou on the floor is Maui's oar.
Heihei is pecking at some of the gold coins that had scattered across the floor, his practical little harness tied at the other end to Lefou's wrist.
Mulan's armor is laid out in pieces on top of the dressers and on top of his trunk.
Later, after he's done with packing his kit up, Lefou retreats back to room 103 for a while and when he comes out it's clear he's decided to deal with grief by returning to pure, military routine. His hair is cut from the two months of growth that had been making it downright unreasonably long, although it's longer in the back than in the front for lack of a barber. His face is shaved completely and his sideburns brought down to manageable levels, and he is Clean.
Which makes his shirt look even dingier in response, but what do you do when you have no lye and don't know what bleach is. He's wearing the waistcoat that Elsa made for him, with his wet hair pulled back into a ponytail, and he's feeling out the weight of the oar like it's a sword.
Not that he's practiced at swordfighting, either, but swing thing, hit thing, repeat isn't too hard. In theory.
In practice, he ends up panting for breath with grunts and yowls of frustration while he wails on a pillow that he'd brought out from his room.
There are now feathers all over the foyer. Heihei eats one. It's fine. He's fine. His wet hair starts coming out of his ponytail and sticks to his forehead, and he has to stop his rampage to wipe it out of his face. He's eaten nothing but four slices of bread over the last two days and spent three times as much time in bed crying than he has sleeping.]