ext_260359 (
deadly-velvet.livejournal.com) wrote in
paixaorpg2006-06-16 01:49 am
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Entry tags:
Where's Mother? [Active]
Character(s): Yazoo, Olette, Ivy, and open to anyone around.
Content: Yazoo enters Paixao and gets a little pushy 'cause, hey, the boy does not do lines.
Setting: Niflheim Gate.
Time: Sunday morning.
Warnings: None at the moment.
With an almost childish scoff, Yazoo realized he hadn't recalled how he'd gotten here. One moment he'd been minding quite a bit of his own business, and the next he'd found himself staring at an excruciatingly long line a good five feet in front of him. Anything that had transpired between the changing of locations conveniently consisted of nothing more than darkness and emptiness; memories that didn't exist, that nagged at him the way confusion and complicated, intelligent matters nagged at a child.
In all honesty, he didn't care where he was. All he wanted to know was where Kadaj and Loz were, and whether or not this -- he took a moment to examine his surroundings with such disinterest he didn't bother retaining much of the information he took in, and stepped up to the back of the line -- place would hinder the plans that were crucial to Reunion.
He had plenty of time to wonder on these important matters, he found. Lots of time. Too much time. So much, in fact, he eventually ran out of things to think about and started all over again from topic #1.
One thing was for certain: this line wasn't cutting it.
With a snarky, holier-than-thou click of his tongue, he stepped from the line and proceeded toward the front, Hell-bent on bypassing anyone who wasn't worth his time, which just so happened to be everyone. Unfortunately, entrance through the oddly attractive gate wasn't so easy, and a hand was held up before him, blocking his passage. He glanced beside and behind him at the several people in the line who looked as though they wanted to rip his head off, then looked back at the man blocking him just in time to hear "Hello! May I have your name, ma'am?"
Insert a blank expression here, please and thank you. Have a nice day!
"Where is mother?" he asked, precise and to the point, as he stared the man down with a deceptively sweet expression. Again, his name was asked, and his question repeated, though the tone of his voice began to grow quite irritated by the fifth cycle.
Eventually, he caved in. "Yazoo- I don't care where I am- Where's Mother?" Again, his question went largely unanswered, instead replied to with a pathetically sympathetic expression as he was handed a small rectangular device, several pamphlets, and enthusiastic "welcome to Paixao!" greetings. This was all regarded with a confused expression, one that only seemed entirely too obvious as he stared up at the icy gate, his arms full of what he was sure was useless garbage.
This was...
He pouted for a moment, figuring Loz and Kadaj had had to endure the same problem and must have already entered the city. The thought was encouraging and he passed through the gate with an alarmingly superior "I couldn't care less~" attitude, without muttering so much as a "thank you" to those who had offered him these strange gifts.
Content: Yazoo enters Paixao and gets a little pushy 'cause, hey, the boy does not do lines.
Setting: Niflheim Gate.
Time: Sunday morning.
Warnings: None at the moment.
With an almost childish scoff, Yazoo realized he hadn't recalled how he'd gotten here. One moment he'd been minding quite a bit of his own business, and the next he'd found himself staring at an excruciatingly long line a good five feet in front of him. Anything that had transpired between the changing of locations conveniently consisted of nothing more than darkness and emptiness; memories that didn't exist, that nagged at him the way confusion and complicated, intelligent matters nagged at a child.
In all honesty, he didn't care where he was. All he wanted to know was where Kadaj and Loz were, and whether or not this -- he took a moment to examine his surroundings with such disinterest he didn't bother retaining much of the information he took in, and stepped up to the back of the line -- place would hinder the plans that were crucial to Reunion.
He had plenty of time to wonder on these important matters, he found. Lots of time. Too much time. So much, in fact, he eventually ran out of things to think about and started all over again from topic #1.
One thing was for certain: this line wasn't cutting it.
With a snarky, holier-than-thou click of his tongue, he stepped from the line and proceeded toward the front, Hell-bent on bypassing anyone who wasn't worth his time, which just so happened to be everyone. Unfortunately, entrance through the oddly attractive gate wasn't so easy, and a hand was held up before him, blocking his passage. He glanced beside and behind him at the several people in the line who looked as though they wanted to rip his head off, then looked back at the man blocking him just in time to hear "Hello! May I have your name, ma'am?"
Insert a blank expression here, please and thank you. Have a nice day!
"Where is mother?" he asked, precise and to the point, as he stared the man down with a deceptively sweet expression. Again, his name was asked, and his question repeated, though the tone of his voice began to grow quite irritated by the fifth cycle.
Eventually, he caved in. "Yazoo- I don't care where I am- Where's Mother?" Again, his question went largely unanswered, instead replied to with a pathetically sympathetic expression as he was handed a small rectangular device, several pamphlets, and enthusiastic "welcome to Paixao!" greetings. This was all regarded with a confused expression, one that only seemed entirely too obvious as he stared up at the icy gate, his arms full of what he was sure was useless garbage.
This was...
He pouted for a moment, figuring Loz and Kadaj had had to endure the same problem and must have already entered the city. The thought was encouraging and he passed through the gate with an alarmingly superior "I couldn't care less~" attitude, without muttering so much as a "thank you" to those who had offered him these strange gifts.