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paixaorpg2006-07-02 07:53 am
thewizardhowl.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-07-02 07:53 am
Entry tags:
In which Howl is agitated... [ACTIVE]
Character(s): Howl, Yuki Eiri (and anyone who wants to join in).
Content: Howl decides that waiting at his hotel will do nothing and decides to wander about. Sitting, though, is better than walking, so he's made himself comfortable on an outside seat at the nearest cafe.
Setting: Exiting the Haja o Que Houver [F4] and then sitting at the
Cafe Ersesat [H4]
Time: Tuesday night around seven-ish.
Warnings: None.
It was unsettling to have woken the previous day to find that she was gone. Moreso, since given her condition the day before he wouldn't have expected her to wake up, much less walk out of the hotel to leave.
Damn girl, he mutters inwardly to himself, nodding absently to the hotel clerk as he makes his way out the lobby and onto the illuminated street, the sounds of music reverberating through the air. One hand holds his coat in place as the air whips about, it's fine whispers running through his hair.
He had waited for most of the day, stayed indoors and in the hotel room enjoying food that he didn't have to bother to share and silence that reminded him of why he'd chosen to become a hermit half the time back where the world made sense and Calcifer was just a stairway away.
He wanted to go and find her, but considering the size of this town, that was going to be difficult in itself. So instead he focuses on not looking for her. He is, afterall, surprised that for someone he had met for such a short time, Asuka has managed to turn him into someone he barely recognizes: a man who actually worries for someone else4's welfare.
It'll pass. You're not one to linger with the dames anyway. Calcifer's voice in his head is a fabrication -- an echo of memory that suits the situation, though the words and sentiment are from another time entirely.
He notes the people around him and inhales, keeping temper in check. Abandonment does not sit well with him, just as the dependency of another soul. He focuses his frustration at something else then. Something shallow, and tells himself with his little fire demon's voice that this, like all bouts of temper, will eventually pass.
Why in bloody heaven are all these people just blonde and blue-eyed? The equivalent of his voice in his head is irritated and he runs one hand through his own pale locks. You'd think that they weren't given to variety at all. His brows slightly furrowed, he ceases his walk and opts to sit in one of the empty seats under the awning of a cafe and proceeds to fiddle with his journal.
Content: Howl decides that waiting at his hotel will do nothing and decides to wander about. Sitting, though, is better than walking, so he's made himself comfortable on an outside seat at the nearest cafe.
Setting: Exiting the Haja o Que Houver [F4] and then sitting at the
Cafe Ersesat [H4]
Time: Tuesday night around seven-ish.
Warnings: None.
It was unsettling to have woken the previous day to find that she was gone. Moreso, since given her condition the day before he wouldn't have expected her to wake up, much less walk out of the hotel to leave.
Damn girl, he mutters inwardly to himself, nodding absently to the hotel clerk as he makes his way out the lobby and onto the illuminated street, the sounds of music reverberating through the air. One hand holds his coat in place as the air whips about, it's fine whispers running through his hair.
He had waited for most of the day, stayed indoors and in the hotel room enjoying food that he didn't have to bother to share and silence that reminded him of why he'd chosen to become a hermit half the time back where the world made sense and Calcifer was just a stairway away.
He wanted to go and find her, but considering the size of this town, that was going to be difficult in itself. So instead he focuses on not looking for her. He is, afterall, surprised that for someone he had met for such a short time, Asuka has managed to turn him into someone he barely recognizes: a man who actually worries for someone else4's welfare.
It'll pass. You're not one to linger with the dames anyway. Calcifer's voice in his head is a fabrication -- an echo of memory that suits the situation, though the words and sentiment are from another time entirely.
He notes the people around him and inhales, keeping temper in check. Abandonment does not sit well with him, just as the dependency of another soul. He focuses his frustration at something else then. Something shallow, and tells himself with his little fire demon's voice that this, like all bouts of temper, will eventually pass.
Why in bloody heaven are all these people just blonde and blue-eyed? The equivalent of his voice in his head is irritated and he runs one hand through his own pale locks. You'd think that they weren't given to variety at all. His brows slightly furrowed, he ceases his walk and opts to sit in one of the empty seats under the awning of a cafe and proceeds to fiddle with his journal.
no subject
Yeah. Some twisted storyline, indeed.
A faint snort was issued at that particular observation, and he paused for a moment, contemplating the other blonde man's words. There was something terribly different about him that the novelist couldn't quite place.
Rather...medieval, probably? He hadn't heard of anyone who had used the world 'quaint' in any particular conversation at all.
He studied him for a few moments, amber eyes mildly thoughtful before he caught himself and he spoke idly. "Where did you come from?"
Yuki supposed he was beginning to get used to all this, the fact that this place had people who came from different worlds - quite literally - and not all of them were particularly sane.
He rubbed at his arm absently, over Asuka's bite and just hoped that she didn't have any rabies. He hadn't bothered to show that particular injury to the medical staff - imbeciles, the lot of them - but damn it, it stung. Did the girl have teeth made of metal, or something?
no subject
"What's your name?" He asked, curious, and knowing well enough that he could have let the conversation continue and end at some point without either of them knowing each other's names. He'd done it often enough in the past as he didn't think that noting passing acquaintances' names was of any real value when he wasn't likely to see them again.
But this... city. This... Paixao, as far as he could tell already, was small, and the possibility of running into people he'd already met once over and over again was high. The least he could do was school himself into remembering basic courtesy. He had spent the last half-hour studying the train routes, the establishments and most of the details that made the city exactly what it was: a damn playground. Big, but a playground nonetheless.
Now if only he could fathom the rules of the game herein.