(no subject)
Title:
Characters: Sephiroth {a_general_chaos} // Edward von Muir {melodiesoflute} // Vaan {desert_baby} // Genesis Rhapsodos {aegri_somnia} // Cloud Strife {puppetsoldier} // The Masamune {themasamune} // Open
When: Evening
Where: The Sandsea, Rabanastre
Warnings: Er, sarcastic General?
Summary:
Yet another place. But somewhat thankfully, this one seemed to be a major city of sorts, with enough bustle to remind him of Midgar. Sephiroth never figured he'd ever be yearning for that unlovely place, complete with smog, steel and MAKO. A dry snort; the latter he could definitely live without.
But he'd done his share of sight-seeing, careful to move through the crowds as unobtrusively as possible, which, ironically, wasn't too difficult as the city seemed to be in full preparation for some sort of major event. Which suited the General fine; less stares at the tall silver-haired stranger taking in the sights. Oh, he was sure he was noticed; he'd not missed some of the more...urbane folk tailing him a bit, but a sharp glance was enough to send the misfits scurrying back to their burrows.
Now, however, he'd made his way to what appeared to be the local bar in the city, a nice enough place which had excellent service and didn't ask too many questions about the curiousness of his gil. The odd creatures bustling about serving drinks were curiously interesting, but as they posed little threat, Sephiroth just accepted their refills with a nod and a quiet word of thanks, seated at a rather out-of-the way table in a not-so-bright corner. Keeping to water - as he hardly trusted any sort of spirits in such strange places, he kept watch on the crowd, sharp cyan eyes missing very little.
Characters: Sephiroth {a_general_chaos} // Edward von Muir {melodiesoflute} // Vaan {desert_baby} // Genesis Rhapsodos {aegri_somnia} // Cloud Strife {puppetsoldier} // The Masamune {themasamune} // Open
When: Evening
Where: The Sandsea, Rabanastre
Warnings: Er, sarcastic General?
Summary:
Yet another place. But somewhat thankfully, this one seemed to be a major city of sorts, with enough bustle to remind him of Midgar. Sephiroth never figured he'd ever be yearning for that unlovely place, complete with smog, steel and MAKO. A dry snort; the latter he could definitely live without.
But he'd done his share of sight-seeing, careful to move through the crowds as unobtrusively as possible, which, ironically, wasn't too difficult as the city seemed to be in full preparation for some sort of major event. Which suited the General fine; less stares at the tall silver-haired stranger taking in the sights. Oh, he was sure he was noticed; he'd not missed some of the more...urbane folk tailing him a bit, but a sharp glance was enough to send the misfits scurrying back to their burrows.
Now, however, he'd made his way to what appeared to be the local bar in the city, a nice enough place which had excellent service and didn't ask too many questions about the curiousness of his gil. The odd creatures bustling about serving drinks were curiously interesting, but as they posed little threat, Sephiroth just accepted their refills with a nod and a quiet word of thanks, seated at a rather out-of-the way table in a not-so-bright corner. Keeping to water - as he hardly trusted any sort of spirits in such strange places, he kept watch on the crowd, sharp cyan eyes missing very little.