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paixaorpg2006-07-14 04:25 pm
mementojing.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-07-14 04:25 pm
Entry tags:
A Change In Plans [Complete]
Character(s): Jing
Content: Jing ends up at Paixao - and figuring Kir is up to no good, decides to enter. In his own fashion, of course.
Setting: Joutenheim Gate
Time: Midday, Monday2
Warnings: None. Unless stealing isn't your forte - or you realize the alcoholic drink references.
The back of a rickety, old truck did not make a comfortable resting-place (or transportation for that matter). The truck bed, with all of the instability and ruckus of packages moving around, was more similar to sleeping on an avalanche waiting to happen. However, compared to walking an additional fifty miles – this was almost luxury for sore feet. Or sore wings, in the case of the bird fast asleep on top of one of the wooden crates.
The other traveler had neglected sleep for the time being to observe the small parchment in front of him. A small amount of sunset giving eyes just enough light to read the different trails and landmarks. One name seemed to stand out from the rest. Yellow highlighter ink clearly underlined the name Caipirinha as well as the forest around the name. Another name for it, which much easier to pronounce was: ‘his next heist’.
Even though his feet were weary from their travels earlier, even if he could have been irritated from walking so many miles in the sand – he simply smiled. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t resist curiosity and it swept up his mind like a wave. Would their next adventure be just as fulfilling as the last? Before he had time to think, his mind was brought to a halt as a sharp pain slid through him. The world around him bursting into light before his very eyes.
When he had come to his senses, he found himself temporality blinded. Yet, even with this impairment – the boy was quick to notice the fact that what was under him was not a truck bed anymore. Not even the sand of the Mojito Desert seemed to be surrounding him. It was more like cloth.
Oddly enough, his partner seemed to have not noticed a thing. For Kir was uncharacteristically silent – not even a snore coming from the bird.
“Kir..?” He moved a hand around him, slightly frantic. Grey eyes started to focus on the surroundings in hopes of grabbing the albatross’s neck and giving him a good shaking. Upon being able to view the world outside his eyelids, however, he found that Kir was long gone. (As well as the fact he might as well have been out for quite a while; for it seemed almost as though it was the next day.) Even the scenery of the desert had disappeared and turned into hills of domes. The spiky-haired bandit had become accustomed to surprises long ago, but more on the giving end versus the receiving end.
The awe of the scenery change wore off rather quickly when he spotted a line of people in front of a gate. The gate decorated with two giants that, even from a hill away, his eyes could clearly spot. With a clenched fist, he made his way to the line – and observed that people were waiting to get into the domes. Whatever was in there was probably quite special, and no doubt about it that Kir would have wanted to check it out. More or less in the search for ladies rather than any similar interests with his own. (Accordingly, his plans always seemed to change a bit due to Kir’s obsession over beautiful females. No surprise that he’d have to do the same this time.) The albatross probably didn’t have to wait in line either – seeing as he could fly over. In the same spirit of things, neither was he.
He slipped past the crowd with relative ease due to his size and speed. The trademark orange coat visible only for brief moments as he slipped between people to enter the gate.
“Here is your journal, Sir..” A young girl nodded to the man she was talking to, a rectangular object in her hand. However, as she dropped it into the man’s hand - it changed shape considerably. Instead of a small journal, what the man received was a small cardboard drawing of a swirl-eyed cat. And out of the corner of the two’s eyes, a lad clad in an orange coat waved at them before disappearing into the town.
Inside the hand that was once clenched was a rectangular object – the letters ‘J’, ‘I’, ‘N’, and ‘G’ scribbled upon it.
Content: Jing ends up at Paixao - and figuring Kir is up to no good, decides to enter. In his own fashion, of course.
Setting: Joutenheim Gate
Time: Midday, Monday2
Warnings: None. Unless stealing isn't your forte - or you realize the alcoholic drink references.
The back of a rickety, old truck did not make a comfortable resting-place (or transportation for that matter). The truck bed, with all of the instability and ruckus of packages moving around, was more similar to sleeping on an avalanche waiting to happen. However, compared to walking an additional fifty miles – this was almost luxury for sore feet. Or sore wings, in the case of the bird fast asleep on top of one of the wooden crates.
The other traveler had neglected sleep for the time being to observe the small parchment in front of him. A small amount of sunset giving eyes just enough light to read the different trails and landmarks. One name seemed to stand out from the rest. Yellow highlighter ink clearly underlined the name Caipirinha as well as the forest around the name. Another name for it, which much easier to pronounce was: ‘his next heist’.
Even though his feet were weary from their travels earlier, even if he could have been irritated from walking so many miles in the sand – he simply smiled. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t resist curiosity and it swept up his mind like a wave. Would their next adventure be just as fulfilling as the last? Before he had time to think, his mind was brought to a halt as a sharp pain slid through him. The world around him bursting into light before his very eyes.
When he had come to his senses, he found himself temporality blinded. Yet, even with this impairment – the boy was quick to notice the fact that what was under him was not a truck bed anymore. Not even the sand of the Mojito Desert seemed to be surrounding him. It was more like cloth.
Oddly enough, his partner seemed to have not noticed a thing. For Kir was uncharacteristically silent – not even a snore coming from the bird.
“Kir..?” He moved a hand around him, slightly frantic. Grey eyes started to focus on the surroundings in hopes of grabbing the albatross’s neck and giving him a good shaking. Upon being able to view the world outside his eyelids, however, he found that Kir was long gone. (As well as the fact he might as well have been out for quite a while; for it seemed almost as though it was the next day.) Even the scenery of the desert had disappeared and turned into hills of domes. The spiky-haired bandit had become accustomed to surprises long ago, but more on the giving end versus the receiving end.
The awe of the scenery change wore off rather quickly when he spotted a line of people in front of a gate. The gate decorated with two giants that, even from a hill away, his eyes could clearly spot. With a clenched fist, he made his way to the line – and observed that people were waiting to get into the domes. Whatever was in there was probably quite special, and no doubt about it that Kir would have wanted to check it out. More or less in the search for ladies rather than any similar interests with his own. (Accordingly, his plans always seemed to change a bit due to Kir’s obsession over beautiful females. No surprise that he’d have to do the same this time.) The albatross probably didn’t have to wait in line either – seeing as he could fly over. In the same spirit of things, neither was he.
He slipped past the crowd with relative ease due to his size and speed. The trademark orange coat visible only for brief moments as he slipped between people to enter the gate.
“Here is your journal, Sir..” A young girl nodded to the man she was talking to, a rectangular object in her hand. However, as she dropped it into the man’s hand - it changed shape considerably. Instead of a small journal, what the man received was a small cardboard drawing of a swirl-eyed cat. And out of the corner of the two’s eyes, a lad clad in an orange coat waved at them before disappearing into the town.
Inside the hand that was once clenched was a rectangular object – the letters ‘J’, ‘I’, ‘N’, and ‘G’ scribbled upon it.