i found a fox caught by dogs
WHO: Kevin Flynn and whoever shows up.
WHERE: In the Outlands, but not by much. He refused to be more accessible. I'm sorry.
WHEN: Post-Legacy, but Flynn's canon origin point is pre-Legacy/early Legacy.
WHAT: Flynn can't stay indoors all the time.
WARNINGS: None. Can you tell I'm new? Hi.
Flynn's milling around in some low terrain, far enough from he and Quorra's safehouse that he'll actually have to think about the best route back. He does know better, but he still calls this 'getting some fresh air.' It sounds a lot less grim than 'staving off cabin fever.' He stretches on the spot, making an effort to perceive himself in nature.
His lightcycle is resting not far away, its white body stark against the bleak terrain. It has presence, fully deployed. Flynn wouldn't prefer to have a cycle baton on hand. In defiance of logic, he feels more secure with a vehicle in sight, not in reach. His time in the system has made him realize his appreciation for random and cumbersome objects; things with more character than practical function.
He's been trying not to give the city skyline much attention - when he does, some vague apprehension intrudes at the edge of his awareness. This is the closest he's been to civilization in a while. He's beginning to think he should be more careful about where his joyriding takes him.
He starts pacing a wide and uneven circle of the area, chasing lethargy out of his joints.
WHERE: In the Outlands, but not by much. He refused to be more accessible. I'm sorry.
WHEN: Post-Legacy, but Flynn's canon origin point is pre-Legacy/early Legacy.
WHAT: Flynn can't stay indoors all the time.
WARNINGS: None. Can you tell I'm new? Hi.
Flynn's milling around in some low terrain, far enough from he and Quorra's safehouse that he'll actually have to think about the best route back. He does know better, but he still calls this 'getting some fresh air.' It sounds a lot less grim than 'staving off cabin fever.' He stretches on the spot, making an effort to perceive himself in nature.
His lightcycle is resting not far away, its white body stark against the bleak terrain. It has presence, fully deployed. Flynn wouldn't prefer to have a cycle baton on hand. In defiance of logic, he feels more secure with a vehicle in sight, not in reach. His time in the system has made him realize his appreciation for random and cumbersome objects; things with more character than practical function.
He's been trying not to give the city skyline much attention - when he does, some vague apprehension intrudes at the edge of his awareness. This is the closest he's been to civilization in a while. He's beginning to think he should be more careful about where his joyriding takes him.
He starts pacing a wide and uneven circle of the area, chasing lethargy out of his joints.