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discedo_logs2008-04-24 12:14 pm
too-green-eyes.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2008-04-24 12:14 pm
[In Progress]
Who: Razer and Stan. No, seriously.
Where: Somewhere on Ingles Trail, past the slimy department store. XD
When: RIGHT NOW. Er...April 24th, afternoon, after this thread.
Rating: PG-16 (haha) because Stan has a freaking FILTHY MOUTH.
Summary: Razer said he'd go pick up the annoying pottymouthed kid that just showed up, so that's what he's doing. Rain makes him feel like being nice. >_>
the log:
This was stupid. Really. He could have asked someone else to do it--or had Torn or Ashelin tell someone else to do it--and probably should have, but...something about the weather, he supposed. And everyone else was working on making sure the wall did not wash away, or tending to each other, or just not available as far as he was aware.
Besides, he'd been outside the wall already--enjoying the rain, even if it did mess up his hair and make his shirt cling like a second skin, and looking for Yorda--when the foul-mouthed little boy started broadcasting over the network. He really didn't have a reason not to go, and he supposed he could use something to do that didn't involve making someone feel less ill, making fruit grow, or digging around for boxes for Vin.
...Apparently he was busy too, obviously, but some time outside would do him some good. Maybe he'd get lucky and run into a Metalhead, finally have something to break for the first time since the Reaver War.
Left hand bent inward, fingers touching the folded up butterfly knife stowed in the hilt buckled around his blue-tattooed wrist, Razer turned the corner from Lander onto Ingles, and looked around as he made his way past the slime-covered department store for something--someone that didn't belong here.
And quirked an eyebrow.
He always forgot how tiny children were until he saw one again.
Where: Somewhere on Ingles Trail, past the slimy department store. XD
When: RIGHT NOW. Er...April 24th, afternoon, after this thread.
Rating: PG-16 (haha) because Stan has a freaking FILTHY MOUTH.
Summary: Razer said he'd go pick up the annoying pottymouthed kid that just showed up, so that's what he's doing. Rain makes him feel like being nice. >_>
the log:
This was stupid. Really. He could have asked someone else to do it--or had Torn or Ashelin tell someone else to do it--and probably should have, but...something about the weather, he supposed. And everyone else was working on making sure the wall did not wash away, or tending to each other, or just not available as far as he was aware.
Besides, he'd been outside the wall already--enjoying the rain, even if it did mess up his hair and make his shirt cling like a second skin, and looking for Yorda--when the foul-mouthed little boy started broadcasting over the network. He really didn't have a reason not to go, and he supposed he could use something to do that didn't involve making someone feel less ill, making fruit grow, or digging around for boxes for Vin.
...Apparently he was busy too, obviously, but some time outside would do him some good. Maybe he'd get lucky and run into a Metalhead, finally have something to break for the first time since the Reaver War.
Left hand bent inward, fingers touching the folded up butterfly knife stowed in the hilt buckled around his blue-tattooed wrist, Razer turned the corner from Lander onto Ingles, and looked around as he made his way past the slime-covered department store for something--someone that didn't belong here.
And quirked an eyebrow.
He always forgot how tiny children were until he saw one again.