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
Entry tags:
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!]
action
...You heard that?
[He hadn't been aware of the book at that time, and still wasn't fully aware of all of its capabilities. Barnaby huffed and looked away.]
I'm going to have a talk with Management about that problem.
action
And which Management would you be talking to, dearest?
action
The people who run this place, of course...[The answer was quiet, almost thoughtless, before he looked up at her with obvious questions in his eyes.]
You're saying that this book is like a cellphone?
action
And I do wish you luck talking to them - they're usually reluctant to speak with us unless they're asking us to fight their wars, causing a Shift, or apparently bringing people back from the dead.
action
[He sighed. Of course there was a war.]
I don't appreciate being used. [Not after he retired to live his own life and make his own choices. Although the thought of people returning from the dead was a tempting offer-- he could see Aunt Samantha again, and his parents...
They probably wouldn't recognize him as the same man. He was afraid of what his parents would say.]
But, I should have known. Of course it's something like this.
action
And different rules.
Unfortunate rules, even. It's a strange thing being here. Do be careful, dear.
action
[It was the rational way to approach the situation. He shifted in his jacket uncomfortably-- the wings, the one detail that he couldn't shake, were cramps under the seams and lines of his leather jacket.]
action
As would letting those wings out. Leaving them trundled up like that shall only make you more uncomfortable.
action
[He huffed irritably and looked away from the woman.]
I like this jacket. It's made with real leather, and I doubt it can be tailored properly.
action
A tailor is a tailor. It's their job to tailor properly, or they would lose said job.
[Grell shrugged and pushed off the edge of the roof, landing next to Barnaby.]
There are two tailors in town - so long as one of them hasn't been Shifted out of here. I'd suggest looking into them.
Re: action
One word in her entire explanation caught his attention.]
Why are they called 'shifts' anyway?
action
[Grell shrugged and then paused, looking at Barnaby a little closer.]
...
Do I know you from somewhere? You seem terribly familiar.
action
I don't believe so, Miss. You'd be a hard woman to forget.
action
[Grell smiles and steps closer, leaning the umbrella back a bit.]
I could have sworn you were familiar though - and I do try ever so hard not to forget pretty faces.
action
It takes a little practice, but I make it a point to remember everyone I speak to.
[She knew something, or there were more problems than he wanted to admit.]
action
Name?
[Grell knows why she might know someone without them knowing her. She reaches into her jacket, pulling out a black leather folder to peruse the stacks of paper inside. Unlike the journals, this folder has no name on it and is rather nondescript.]
action
[He watched her leaf through the folder.]
Miss, what are you looking for?
action
[She stops on a page and looks up at him, then back down the page. Definitely him. Same name, same looks.
But that date is all wrong.]
Finding.
You're quite the fashionably late sort, aren't you? He's waited a year to see you again and here you are - just a moment too late.
action
There was only one man who could be mentioned like that.]
What are you talking about?
action
I suppose it has been quite awhile. Normally it only takes one week, but here you are, a year later. They all gave up on seeing you again, you know.
action
I still don't know what you're talking about. Please, speak clearly.
action
If you're still unclear, that's less my fault and more the fault of you being dead for a year.
action
Forget being dead.]
How do you know that name?
action
Grell smirked at his question and slipped the folder back into her jacket.]
Privilege.
Strange, that you're more concerned for that than you are about your rumoured demise.
action
Don't try to change the subject. Only one man calls me that. Where's Kotetsu-san?
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