(no subject)
By the bulletin board, hands in his coat pockets, Gaeta lets out a long sigh and a wearily muttered, "Frak."
(It's the first time he's caught sight of the notice pinned there.)
The victim's name isn't familiar, special skills probably pertains more to the...magically inclined than him, and he wasn't even in the bar the night it happened. Still, force of habit compels him to read the notice two more times; then he glances up toward the rafters without quite focusing on them, thinking it over.
Which means he's lingering at the board itself perhaps a little longer than he should.
[OOC: open until it scrolls!]
[Tinytag: The Evil Chicken]
(It's the first time he's caught sight of the notice pinned there.)
The victim's name isn't familiar, special skills probably pertains more to the...magically inclined than him, and he wasn't even in the bar the night it happened. Still, force of habit compels him to read the notice two more times; then he glances up toward the rafters without quite focusing on them, thinking it over.
Which means he's lingering at the board itself perhaps a little longer than he should.
[OOC: open until it scrolls!]
[Tinytag: The Evil Chicken]