a. [ god, why did he ever agree to do this. (it had something to do with erasing history as they knew it, only one with the ability, etc. etc.) days like today, he's not entirely convinced that it's worth it. he'd almost take enemy forces moving in and a bleak forecast over a day this dead. you'd think that centuries-old blades would have better things to do than interrupt his first chance in weeks to catch up on his reading, but no. haru has moved from room to room to room--even resorting to stairs and the kitchen--to try to get a little peace and quiet. in the end, he'd wound up out in the courtyard up in the limbs of a tree. it's not particularly dignified, but here in the keep, he doesn't have to pretend to be, either.
he stiffens as he hears the first telltale sound of footsteps nearing, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's throwing the book. ]
No! Whatever it is, it can wait until after I've finished this chap-- [ a glance to his empty hand. ] --ter. [ he slaps his hands to his face, feeling his ears heat. ] .. Please hand me my book..
b. [ at some point later in the day, he can be found in the kitchen. on the best of days, he's kind of overwhelmed by this whole operation (that's why he has so many extremely capable blades on his side), but one of the few things he can do--and do well--is cook. it comes from having younger siblings, probably. and though he likes to keep the blades busy when they're not out fighting, he also likes to take part in the same work when he can.
.. he is, therefore, chopping vegetables with his ipod tucked in the back pocket of his jeans (when he's just in the keep like this, his clothing tends to be simple and practical), buds in his ears. and.. and he's dancing. he's not very good at it, either. ]
but how do we feel about saniwas
[ god, why did he ever agree to do this. (it had something to do with erasing history as they knew it, only one with the ability, etc. etc.) days like today, he's not entirely convinced that it's worth it. he'd almost take enemy forces moving in and a bleak forecast over a day this dead. you'd think that centuries-old blades would have better things to do than interrupt his first chance in weeks to catch up on his reading, but no. haru has moved from room to room to room--even resorting to stairs and the kitchen--to try to get a little peace and quiet. in the end, he'd wound up out in the courtyard up in the limbs of a tree. it's not particularly dignified, but here in the keep, he doesn't have to pretend to be, either.
he stiffens as he hears the first telltale sound of footsteps nearing, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's throwing the book. ]
No! Whatever it is, it can wait until after I've finished this chap-- [ a glance to his empty hand. ] --ter. [ he slaps his hands to his face, feeling his ears heat. ] .. Please hand me my book..
b.
[ at some point later in the day, he can be found in the kitchen. on the best of days, he's kind of overwhelmed by this whole operation (that's why he has so many extremely capable blades on his side), but one of the few things he can do--and do well--is cook. it comes from having younger siblings, probably. and though he likes to keep the blades busy when they're not out fighting, he also likes to take part in the same work when he can.
.. he is, therefore, chopping vegetables with his ipod tucked in the back pocket of his jeans (when he's just in the keep like this, his clothing tends to be simple and practical), buds in his ears. and.. and he's dancing. he's not very good at it, either. ]
c.
[ hit me with your best shot? ]