(no subject)
There's a man in the Nexus, decked out in your average, everyday probably-sixteenth-century top-brass-soldier-type gear. One might be able to detect a hint of vanity about him, but they're clothes meant for practicality, and it may be due more to the bearing of the man himself, rather than the garments.
For a man who was last seen about to be tortured and executed, Iago seems to be in a remarkably collected state of mind. He sits himself down on a Convenient Nexus Couch and looks up at the various Nexusites around him - normal, friendly, honest.
"How does one judge a man? What does one use to measure his worth? His deeds, his kin, his wealth? His wife, his stature, or his strength, or his wit?" Iago pauses, examining the back of his hand as if it were infinitely fascinating before drawing his eyes away. A slight smile plays at his lips, "His skin, perhaps? All of them, or none of them? For all that they're of equal import..."
ooc: Mun must be off to bed, because -- seriously. I really do need to sleep. But I'll be on again tomorrow, so keep the tags coming!
For a man who was last seen about to be tortured and executed, Iago seems to be in a remarkably collected state of mind. He sits himself down on a Convenient Nexus Couch and looks up at the various Nexusites around him - normal, friendly, honest.
"How does one judge a man? What does one use to measure his worth? His deeds, his kin, his wealth? His wife, his stature, or his strength, or his wit?" Iago pauses, examining the back of his hand as if it were infinitely fascinating before drawing his eyes away. A slight smile plays at his lips, "His skin, perhaps? All of them, or none of them? For all that they're of equal import..."
ooc: Mun must be off to bed, because -- seriously. I really do need to sleep. But I'll be on again tomorrow, so keep the tags coming!