bright and early for the daily races

Vesper · 07-24-2012, 10:00 AM

[html]<style>#sieLoc td {vertical-align:top; text-align:center; padding:3px; font-size:11px; }
#sieLoc td.header { font-size:15px; }
#sieLoc #location{background-image:url('http://www.soulsrpg.com/images/BSMapPixels_subterr.jpg'); width:100px;height:100px;border:1px solid #000000;background-position:36% 16%;}
#sieLoc #pushpin{position:relative;left:45px;top:45px;}</style>

Setting	Form	NPCs
Location: Cumberland County Museum, Amherst Date: 26 July Weather: Sunny, humid Time: Noonish

(350) For Temeraire!

Vesper is by Sie!

Blinding sunlight slanted down through the broken glass of the building, causing Vesper inside to wince and draw her small body back into the dark corner. It was too goddamn sunny to match the rest of the muggy, wet day, but at least it was drier inside; she’d splashed through one too many puddles on her way here, and had far too many drops of water leaping forth from a tree branch and splattering on her forehead. She almost wanted it to rain, just to justify the humidity in the air left over from the downpour the night before.

There was a black, fidgeting shape near the window, and with a loud rattling sound the blinds dropped down. The coyote flinched back at the noise, hackles rising, but then she saw what the gesture had accomplished and grinned at her companion. Thanks. Looking smug perched on an old school desk, the raven nodded back.

Boy must looking for all things, yeah? Stark pointed out. Now, seeing all inside this dump. He flapped over to a bookshelf and started prying at the books with a claw, while Vesper shook herself and meandered around the classroom. Or—it looked like a classroom, at least, and she had no way of knowing that it was a replica, just one section of many in the museum she’d stuffed herself into to escape the wetness of the day.

All of this is junk, the hybrid declared, snorting disdainfully at a rusted sousaphone. There were some shoes in the corner, but they were outdated even by post-apocalyptic standards, and she didn’t dare put her mouth around them to chew; they might disintegrate in her mouth or something equally disgusting.

The bird flapped back onto the desk and stared at the old blackboard, tutting the best he could. Humans being mindless. Folding his wings in a dignified manner, he croaked, Cat, ball, boat, sky, arm, duck. No sense. Stove, house, dress—

You can read? Vesper asked in bewilderment, but when she turned around, Stark had flown off somewhere else. Narrowing her eyes, she chased after him.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?