Post by Orca on Jun 16, 2010 5:33:46 GMT -5
It was hot, oh so hot, without even the smallest breeze to help cool him off. Orca lay sprawled across a bench, one tanned arm draped over his face, mouth parted slightly to allow exasperated sighs every now and again.
Jesus, it was hot.
He thought fleetingly of procuring some sort of cold beverage, preferably alcoholic, but dismissed the idea immediately as it would have to involve him, you know, actually getting up and moving around. Craziness! The heat was definitely getting to him.
The lycan would have probably spent the rest of the afternoon as such, slowly baking in the summer sun, except for just then a small child ran into the back of the bench, causing it to budge perhaps an inch. Orca was up like a cat -- by which I mean he sat up slowly, blinked, yawned, stretched, and then stared into empty space for several long seconds before finally focusing on what had just happened.
"Shit," he iterated to no one in particular. He'd been so comfortable, too!
Well, what the hell. Now that he was up, he might as well do something, right? Something, something exciting. Problem was, nothing seemed to happen in Spain nowadays. He'd even welcome something like a giant mechanical dragon busting shit up, but unfortunately for him that had happened in an entirely different thread.
He stood, brushing shaggy brown locks out of his bright blue-green eyes, practically the embodiment of summer in his khaki shorts and white t-shirt. Orca looked like just another kid out of school for a couple months, ready to enjoy the heat and freedom while it lasted.
It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, no, not at all. Just meant he could blend into the crowd easier. He had no problem donning the sheep's clothing for a short bit, not if it ended in some sort of profit for him. A good thing, to be sure.
The lycan spotted an ice cream vendor a short ways away and instantly made a beeline for it, effectively cutting in front of a group of boys who had just gotten the same idea as him. They started to protest, but one sharp look (with eyes that seemed to flash gold) and a very vulpine smile (with what seemed to be a glimmer of fang), and they were silent.
A conversation I don't feel like writing out ('cuz fuck Spanish srsly) and an exchange of money later, Orca strolled away, contently licking away at a vanilla cone.
Now then: adventure?
[ooc: open to all you fags, but first post goes to a very special fag who inspired me to start writing again in the first place :O ]
Jesus, it was hot.
He thought fleetingly of procuring some sort of cold beverage, preferably alcoholic, but dismissed the idea immediately as it would have to involve him, you know, actually getting up and moving around. Craziness! The heat was definitely getting to him.
The lycan would have probably spent the rest of the afternoon as such, slowly baking in the summer sun, except for just then a small child ran into the back of the bench, causing it to budge perhaps an inch. Orca was up like a cat -- by which I mean he sat up slowly, blinked, yawned, stretched, and then stared into empty space for several long seconds before finally focusing on what had just happened.
"Shit," he iterated to no one in particular. He'd been so comfortable, too!
Well, what the hell. Now that he was up, he might as well do something, right? Something, something exciting. Problem was, nothing seemed to happen in Spain nowadays. He'd even welcome something like a giant mechanical dragon busting shit up, but unfortunately for him that had happened in an entirely different thread.
He stood, brushing shaggy brown locks out of his bright blue-green eyes, practically the embodiment of summer in his khaki shorts and white t-shirt. Orca looked like just another kid out of school for a couple months, ready to enjoy the heat and freedom while it lasted.
It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, no, not at all. Just meant he could blend into the crowd easier. He had no problem donning the sheep's clothing for a short bit, not if it ended in some sort of profit for him. A good thing, to be sure.
The lycan spotted an ice cream vendor a short ways away and instantly made a beeline for it, effectively cutting in front of a group of boys who had just gotten the same idea as him. They started to protest, but one sharp look (with eyes that seemed to flash gold) and a very vulpine smile (with what seemed to be a glimmer of fang), and they were silent.
A conversation I don't feel like writing out ('cuz fuck Spanish srsly) and an exchange of money later, Orca strolled away, contently licking away at a vanilla cone.
Now then: adventure?
[ooc: open to all you fags, but first post goes to a very special fag who inspired me to start writing again in the first place :O ]