You and your cronies, you forget so easy [OPEN; in-progress]
Characters; L and... maybe YOU! [Open]
Setting/Location; New Utopia
Date & Time; 2nd full day of NU stay.
Warnings; None so far.
Briefing; L lurks around NU (presumably near the main square)
L finished the eclair, setting his fork carefully on the small porcelain plate, and draining the remainder of his cup of sweet coffee. He couldn't spare much change, but he left some on the counter for the girl who worked at the counter in the small pastry shop: the eclair had been delicious, and the service, exemplary.
Slipping his hands into his pockets, slinging the bag containing his communication device over his shoulder, and making sure to tug his sleeve down over his wrist, he left the shop. His destination was the library, where he had already spent the morning.
He saw the green marking on his wrist as a problem. It was his habit to wear his sleeves long, long enough to cover much of the palm of his hand; sometimes, when he was tired, or cold, he would tuck his fingers up into the sleeves for a few minutes. The magical element of the brand made it impossible to cover for more than an hour without the skin itching to a maddening degree. The result was that he had to wear his sleeve rolled up a little, which caused minor discomfort -- no, he thought, I am irritated. The marking was another representation of what amounted to his enforced servitude for Ex Favila.
It could have been worse, though: at least there was work to do. Boredom wasn't a risk so much as not being sure where to start, so he adopted his usual method and jumped in. It would be necessary to compile data before attempting to sort it, after all.
In the meantime, the library wasn't so far away that he needed to show the marking on the street; he suspected that covering it might increase his chance of overhearing something of interest on the way. And so he ambled, slouched and deceptively frail-looking, through the streets of New Utopia.
Setting/Location; New Utopia
Date & Time; 2nd full day of NU stay.
Warnings; None so far.
Briefing; L lurks around NU (presumably near the main square)
L finished the eclair, setting his fork carefully on the small porcelain plate, and draining the remainder of his cup of sweet coffee. He couldn't spare much change, but he left some on the counter for the girl who worked at the counter in the small pastry shop: the eclair had been delicious, and the service, exemplary.
Slipping his hands into his pockets, slinging the bag containing his communication device over his shoulder, and making sure to tug his sleeve down over his wrist, he left the shop. His destination was the library, where he had already spent the morning.
He saw the green marking on his wrist as a problem. It was his habit to wear his sleeves long, long enough to cover much of the palm of his hand; sometimes, when he was tired, or cold, he would tuck his fingers up into the sleeves for a few minutes. The magical element of the brand made it impossible to cover for more than an hour without the skin itching to a maddening degree. The result was that he had to wear his sleeve rolled up a little, which caused minor discomfort -- no, he thought, I am irritated. The marking was another representation of what amounted to his enforced servitude for Ex Favila.
It could have been worse, though: at least there was work to do. Boredom wasn't a risk so much as not being sure where to start, so he adopted his usual method and jumped in. It would be necessary to compile data before attempting to sort it, after all.
In the meantime, the library wasn't so far away that he needed to show the marking on the street; he suspected that covering it might increase his chance of overhearing something of interest on the way. And so he ambled, slouched and deceptively frail-looking, through the streets of New Utopia.