1st Secret [written/action]
[If there is anyone who hates being poorly informed, out of the loop and left in the dark more than anything in the world, it's Xellos. Which is exactly what he is right now, so believe it or not, yes he is a touch cross. Actually, he's very cross, and was he a man monster of any less fortitude, he'd have taken it upon himself to rampage around town in a most violent and intimidating manner, threatening all the good innocent folks and making small children cry until someone spits out just what the blue fuck he's doing here.
As it is, the closest Xellos is getting to rampaging is...
okay, maybe he's just going to get up and think this over like a logical person. Rampaging is for dragons. Needless to say, he's found his nifty little book, summoned up his clothes (though his staff and satchel seem to have gotten themselves lost), and has quickly deduced that, at the very least, the book seems to act as some kind of... communication. What with all the correspondence going on in it. May as well give it a go.]
Hello!
[In some strange mixture of a dyslexic scrawl and elegant script. At least it is legible]
I'm afraid I have gotten myself turned around.
[And bewinged]
Might I ask, where is here?
[At least he found the town. If anyone is near to the fountain today, there's a rather pleasant looking young man sitting on the edge of it, half paying attention to the book, half fiddling around with the still sore little wings on his back.
Seriously what the hell]
As it is, the closest Xellos is getting to rampaging is...
okay, maybe he's just going to get up and think this over like a logical person. Rampaging is for dragons. Needless to say, he's found his nifty little book, summoned up his clothes (though his staff and satchel seem to have gotten themselves lost), and has quickly deduced that, at the very least, the book seems to act as some kind of... communication. What with all the correspondence going on in it. May as well give it a go.]
Hello!
[In some strange mixture of a dyslexic scrawl and elegant script. At least it is legible]
I'm afraid I have gotten myself turned around.
[And bewinged]
Might I ask, where is here?
[At least he found the town. If anyone is near to the fountain today, there's a rather pleasant looking young man sitting on the edge of it, half paying attention to the book, half fiddling around with the still sore little wings on his back.
Seriously what the hell]