23rd Confession [Voice/Action]
[Fine, he tells himself-he might as well check out the journal; while he's normally on top of things (you never know what crazy shit's gonna go down), he's been pretty laid back, he'll admit. It's been calm, despite the last event. He's managed to just relax and take it as a small vacation, or some sort of half-assed blessing. Yeah, he'll go with that.
And now, to pester the new people.]
[VOICE]
Welcome to Luceti, all you new people out there-do I have some samurai out there? Gunslingers? How about the ever-popular pirate? I swear, I've never seen so many in one place before. [Granted he'd never seen a pirate in his life prior to Luceti, but eeeeh, whatever.] I'm starting to notice this place has just about every type of person around. Well, except for people the size of mountains. I imagine it wouldn't be very comfortable being around this rough terrain, actually.
[a thoughtful hum] I imagine some of you are from the usual interesting places... space? The desert? Worlds full of dragons or monsters or swords that're way too big to be lugging around?
[and a beat]
And don't forget to speak to your local spirit, around here. Just avoid the fire one-he's a real bastard.
[FILTERED TO VASH // 70 PERCENT UNHACKABLE]
Hey, how the hell long has it been since we've had a drink? I think I'm feeling game for a few rounds. Unless you're too busy having hair contests with porcupines.
[So it goes, things feel a little more normal again. He prefers it; the days where his cross sits unused in the corner of his room are pleasant ones, to say the least. Granted, poor Amelia's stuck in there house now thanks to the hideous hand she'd been dealt in the last shift. He makes sure to check in with her in the apartment to see if she's settling well enough, before giving himself a breather outside on the path with cross in hand. As much as he enjoys the whole 'not using it' thing, he's gotta keep himself sharp.
You never know, right?
By the time he's done at the battle dome, chipping away at the usual horde of 50 or so moving targets that totally look like bandits, he's ready to get on home and hit the hay. Uneventful, for the most part. It's one of those times where the clock seems to be at 7 in the morn' one moment and then 11:30 at night the next.
He slips into his room after dinner, and smokes on a cigarette as he gets ready to end one day and start the next.]
And now, to pester the new people.]
[VOICE]
Welcome to Luceti, all you new people out there-do I have some samurai out there? Gunslingers? How about the ever-popular pirate? I swear, I've never seen so many in one place before. [Granted he'd never seen a pirate in his life prior to Luceti, but eeeeh, whatever.] I'm starting to notice this place has just about every type of person around. Well, except for people the size of mountains. I imagine it wouldn't be very comfortable being around this rough terrain, actually.
[a thoughtful hum] I imagine some of you are from the usual interesting places... space? The desert? Worlds full of dragons or monsters or swords that're way too big to be lugging around?
[and a beat]
And don't forget to speak to your local spirit, around here. Just avoid the fire one-he's a real bastard.
[FILTERED TO VASH // 70 PERCENT UNHACKABLE]
Hey, how the hell long has it been since we've had a drink? I think I'm feeling game for a few rounds. Unless you're too busy having hair contests with porcupines.
[So it goes, things feel a little more normal again. He prefers it; the days where his cross sits unused in the corner of his room are pleasant ones, to say the least. Granted, poor Amelia's stuck in there house now thanks to the hideous hand she'd been dealt in the last shift. He makes sure to check in with her in the apartment to see if she's settling well enough, before giving himself a breather outside on the path with cross in hand. As much as he enjoys the whole 'not using it' thing, he's gotta keep himself sharp.
You never know, right?
By the time he's done at the battle dome, chipping away at the usual horde of 50 or so moving targets that totally look like bandits, he's ready to get on home and hit the hay. Uneventful, for the most part. It's one of those times where the clock seems to be at 7 in the morn' one moment and then 11:30 at night the next.
He slips into his room after dinner, and smokes on a cigarette as he gets ready to end one day and start the next.]