Prince Dastan ◊ 012
Who: hides_thedagger and anyone that wants to visit him in prison
Where: The small, secondary police station in district 4 in Somni
Style: Starts in third, but any is good with me.
Status: Open to the following ONLY: anyone in the police force and anyone that saw him getting arrested at the crashed castle. If you still want to visit, contact me, we'll work something out.
Thankfully for the cops, the car ride to the station had subdued the Prince slightly, and had followed instructions obediently upon his arrival, despite his face clearly showing his discontent about the situation. They directed him to his cell, removing the shackles only once he was inside. He had to turn a deaf ear to the taunts of the guards, wondering slightly if they thought of him to be Altaïr as they commented that the force had finally caught the eluding man. Once inside and able to give a better look to his holding place, Dastan had to admit that the cell wasn't like anything he had imagined: it was cleaner than expected, and even had a cot and a wall-less bathroom. A small, barred window was letting through the chilling breeze of the night and by the looks of the still black sky, the night was still wearing on.
After removing his armor and arm bracers, Dastan had washed off as much dust as he could, cleaning the scratches on his arms and face. It was a good thing he wasn't clean shaven, the bruise on his jaw would have been terribly apparent then. Now, it only darkened his skin slightly. Giving in to exhaustion, the Prince laid on the cat, moving an arm over his eyes as he tried to find some sleep, though he was sincerely doubting he could. He was still worrying about Ezio, as he was unable to know if the Italian man had successfully run back to the village. He could only wait for the morning to come, for his moment of release to make sure his 'brother' was all right.
Where: The small, secondary police station in district 4 in Somni
Style: Starts in third, but any is good with me.
Status: Open to the following ONLY: anyone in the police force and anyone that saw him getting arrested at the crashed castle. If you still want to visit, contact me, we'll work something out.
Thankfully for the cops, the car ride to the station had subdued the Prince slightly, and had followed instructions obediently upon his arrival, despite his face clearly showing his discontent about the situation. They directed him to his cell, removing the shackles only once he was inside. He had to turn a deaf ear to the taunts of the guards, wondering slightly if they thought of him to be Altaïr as they commented that the force had finally caught the eluding man. Once inside and able to give a better look to his holding place, Dastan had to admit that the cell wasn't like anything he had imagined: it was cleaner than expected, and even had a cot and a wall-less bathroom. A small, barred window was letting through the chilling breeze of the night and by the looks of the still black sky, the night was still wearing on.
After removing his armor and arm bracers, Dastan had washed off as much dust as he could, cleaning the scratches on his arms and face. It was a good thing he wasn't clean shaven, the bruise on his jaw would have been terribly apparent then. Now, it only darkened his skin slightly. Giving in to exhaustion, the Prince laid on the cat, moving an arm over his eyes as he tried to find some sleep, though he was sincerely doubting he could. He was still worrying about Ezio, as he was unable to know if the Italian man had successfully run back to the village. He could only wait for the morning to come, for his moment of release to make sure his 'brother' was all right.