Barnaby Brooks Jr. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tsunderebunny) wrote2013-05-10 08:16 pm
tsunderebunny) wrote2013-05-10 08:16 pm
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Episode 1: The Day After is Always the Hardest to Handle [accidental audio/action]
[That was some adrenaline rush.
Barnaby groaned when the distant rumble of thunder and the cold patter of raindrops on his bare skin pulled him back to consciousness. The muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back ached like he knew they would. The battle atop the Justice Tower had been long and vicious-- sleep was bliss after that beating, that rage-- He fisted a hand in the sand, and his thoughts ground to a halt.
Why was there sand?
Thunder rumbled once more, closer than it had been moments before. Barnaby abruptly sat up, his already electrified instincts snapping him into action in less than a heartbeat. He knew that there was no more reason for him to fight, but there were some habits that would never change. Not so quickly.
His momentary spark of irritation quickly gave way to confusion. Barnaby ran a hand through his sodden curls with sand covered fingers as his mind tried to register the sudden change in his surroundings. This wasn't his bed, his flat, or even anywhere in Sternbild.
Why was he at a beach?
The rain started to fall harder, prompting Barnaby stiffly pull himself up from the sand. He hadn't noticed the book that was lying on it's open pages nearby, just barely within reach of the receeding tide.]
...Honestly. [His voice was weary, exasperated.] They couldn't have bothered to put up a shelter?
[Later that day, after he's settled (after a fashion), Barnaby can be found in the shops around the plaza, gathering his few belongings and proper furnishings for his new flat, or holed up in a quiet corner of the library to peruse both his journal and any informational book that he could find. He just couldn't trust any of the evidence he had, not when it was so blatantly absurd.
It'd be wise to avoid mentioning any large, stuffed pink bunnies that he might be seen with that day. He couldn't just leave it in the shops for anyone to take!]
Barnaby groaned when the distant rumble of thunder and the cold patter of raindrops on his bare skin pulled him back to consciousness. The muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back ached like he knew they would. The battle atop the Justice Tower had been long and vicious-- sleep was bliss after that beating, that rage-- He fisted a hand in the sand, and his thoughts ground to a halt.
Why was there sand?
Thunder rumbled once more, closer than it had been moments before. Barnaby abruptly sat up, his already electrified instincts snapping him into action in less than a heartbeat. He knew that there was no more reason for him to fight, but there were some habits that would never change. Not so quickly.
His momentary spark of irritation quickly gave way to confusion. Barnaby ran a hand through his sodden curls with sand covered fingers as his mind tried to register the sudden change in his surroundings. This wasn't his bed, his flat, or even anywhere in Sternbild.
Why was he at a beach?
The rain started to fall harder, prompting Barnaby stiffly pull himself up from the sand. He hadn't noticed the book that was lying on it's open pages nearby, just barely within reach of the receeding tide.]
...Honestly. [His voice was weary, exasperated.] They couldn't have bothered to put up a shelter?
[Later that day, after he's settled (after a fashion), Barnaby can be found in the shops around the plaza, gathering his few belongings and proper furnishings for his new flat, or holed up in a quiet corner of the library to peruse both his journal and any informational book that he could find. He just couldn't trust any of the evidence he had, not when it was so blatantly absurd.
It'd be wise to avoid mentioning any large, stuffed pink bunnies that he might be seen with that day. He couldn't just leave it in the shops for anyone to take!]