14 • [voice|action]
[since his 'accident,' Legato has spent too much time indoors. It's confining and depressing, so today he gathers himself and heads out into the snow to clear his head. Finding a nice place to sit near the town square, journal open in hand, he settles down to observe his 'neighbors.' The cold air against the bandaged remains of his arm causes sharp strikes of pain to crash through the bone and into the tight nerves of his shoulder. It's a refreshing feeling, really.]
[filtered from Vash || 86%]
Humanity. It surprises me, a little, to see just how many worlds mankind has spread to.
Why is that, I wonder? Have they simply used up so many worlds that they are doomed to continue to spread, from one host world to another?
[idly flipping pages, thoughtfully]
I wonder if there is a place, out of all these many worlds, where they have managed to curb their destructive tendencies.
[he'll sit back then, distantly listening to the murmurings of the journal and letting his newly-crippled ability stretch as much as he can push it... which is alarmingly little. If anyone happens by the creeper that has obviously had a recent arm amputation, he may not even notice you]
[filtered from Vash || 86%]
Humanity. It surprises me, a little, to see just how many worlds mankind has spread to.
Why is that, I wonder? Have they simply used up so many worlds that they are doomed to continue to spread, from one host world to another?
[idly flipping pages, thoughtfully]
I wonder if there is a place, out of all these many worlds, where they have managed to curb their destructive tendencies.
[he'll sit back then, distantly listening to the murmurings of the journal and letting his newly-crippled ability stretch as much as he can push it... which is alarmingly little. If anyone happens by the creeper that has obviously had a recent arm amputation, he may not even notice you]