(no subject)

[judgetightpants]

A man has entered the Nexus, barely seeing it. He is dressed, as some might recognize, in the manner of a Victorian gentleman of good standing. He paces, he fumes, he seethes, and at length a cry of frustration tears itself from his lips. "Damn it all, how am I to direct order out of madness and specious rumor?"

((Judge Hotpa-er, Tightpa-no, ahem, Turpin has to go away for a little while, but all tags will be responded to eventually. Thanks for the fun, everyone!))