Cliff Fittir (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aerialassault) wrote2013-12-08 06:22 pm
aerialassault) wrote2013-12-08 06:22 pm
003 [action/text]
[Action: Locked to Fayt Leingod and (maybe) Albel Nox]
[It was cold.
Cliff shifted under the blankets and stretched his legs, not caring about anything but the familiar knitted sheets that touched his bare skin and the familiar scent of what he knew was his apartment in town. It was simple. It was a taste of the freedom he would grab once he slept off his aching muscles and refreshed his weary mind.
For the moment he just wanted to appreciate the warmth. He didn't remember the beds being this comfortable...]
[Action: Open]
[People in town might notice an unfamiliar young woman wandering about the shops that afternoon in search of something that fitted better than the oversized leather bomber jacket and heavy boots that covered her thin white dress. Her striking blue hair and green eyes bore a startling resemblence to another young man, Fayt Leingod-- but, that had to be coincidence.
Passers by might even find her asking them a simple question in a tone that hinted at her contained frustration:]
Hey. Could ya gimme a hand for a minute?
[Clearly, she wasn't used to asking for this sort of help.
Later on, a quick message in a familiar hand is scrawled out in the journals for everyone to read:]
[Text]
I'm back. Anyone miss me?
[It was cold.
Cliff shifted under the blankets and stretched his legs, not caring about anything but the familiar knitted sheets that touched his bare skin and the familiar scent of what he knew was his apartment in town. It was simple. It was a taste of the freedom he would grab once he slept off his aching muscles and refreshed his weary mind.
For the moment he just wanted to appreciate the warmth. He didn't remember the beds being this comfortable...]
[Action: Open]
[People in town might notice an unfamiliar young woman wandering about the shops that afternoon in search of something that fitted better than the oversized leather bomber jacket and heavy boots that covered her thin white dress. Her striking blue hair and green eyes bore a startling resemblence to another young man, Fayt Leingod-- but, that had to be coincidence.
Passers by might even find her asking them a simple question in a tone that hinted at her contained frustration:]
Hey. Could ya gimme a hand for a minute?
[Clearly, she wasn't used to asking for this sort of help.
Later on, a quick message in a familiar hand is scrawled out in the journals for everyone to read:]
[Text]
I'm back. Anyone miss me?