Sol Badguy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
immoralflame) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vatheon2013-07-13 10:20 pm
immoralflame) wrote in vatheon2013-07-13 10:20 pm
Entry tags:
Here and There
Who: Sol (back from his canon update) and open!
Where:in a fountain Plaza
When: Saturday night
Style: I'll match
Status: Open~
Somehow, it was like deja-vu.
A lot like deja-vu, actually.
Coming to half-sprawled in a fountain would do that, he mused absently. Didn't happen too often. Lifting a gloved hand, he ran it through soaked hair to push what of it he could from his face though some remained trapped in place by his worn and somewhat chipped headguard. Few differences this time, mostly in the form of his red coat floating up around by his shoulders and the duffle bag across his (still dry) feet, keeping a few different gadgets he'd come up with over the past couple years. Little things, superficial things.
Except for the one big thing. Sol hauled himself up out of the water once it clicked. "Worry" wasn't really the word for it, but something about it was close enough. It stood out enough when the flood of memories hit, and even as his magic flared--vapourized the water still clinging to his clothes, hair, and skin--his mouth set in a hard line. That sure was something that didn't come with him, from the looks of it.
Vatheon. Back in this hole, if it could be called that. Spend a few years out, end up right back in. The Hell did he do to get brought here again? Not that he could remember anything about it when he was wandering through the broken remains of Europe again, only to end up in the middle of some new-fangled attempt by the "UN" (Sol wasn't sure he thought they really grasped what they were supposed to be) to unite people, not to mention the rest of the shit that was sprung on him between those kids and...
Sol paused in the middle of popping his neck, and that not-worry tapped him on the shoulder again. He rolled it as if it would help; nah, not workin'. Well, there was always the chance...
...He wouldn't be that lucky. Again, didn't come with him, from the looks of it.
Strange feeling.
Sol wasn't sure he liked it, but nothing he could do about it for now. Just gotta pick back up where he left off. Which meant leaving the plaza and looking to see if anything'd changed since he'd last been here. Or figuring how long it'd been.
Stooping, the man hefted up the bag and slung it over his shoulder, thumb hooked under the strap to shift it into the "right" spot.
"Round two, huh?" Least they could've done was drag the brat with him so he could keep an eye on him, fluidity of time be damned.
... ... ...Nah, that'd shift the balance of everything, wouldn't it?
Where:
When: Saturday night
Style: I'll match
Status: Open~
Somehow, it was like deja-vu.
A lot like deja-vu, actually.
Coming to half-sprawled in a fountain would do that, he mused absently. Didn't happen too often. Lifting a gloved hand, he ran it through soaked hair to push what of it he could from his face though some remained trapped in place by his worn and somewhat chipped headguard. Few differences this time, mostly in the form of his red coat floating up around by his shoulders and the duffle bag across his (still dry) feet, keeping a few different gadgets he'd come up with over the past couple years. Little things, superficial things.
Except for the one big thing. Sol hauled himself up out of the water once it clicked. "Worry" wasn't really the word for it, but something about it was close enough. It stood out enough when the flood of memories hit, and even as his magic flared--vapourized the water still clinging to his clothes, hair, and skin--his mouth set in a hard line. That sure was something that didn't come with him, from the looks of it.
Vatheon. Back in this hole, if it could be called that. Spend a few years out, end up right back in. The Hell did he do to get brought here again? Not that he could remember anything about it when he was wandering through the broken remains of Europe again, only to end up in the middle of some new-fangled attempt by the "UN" (Sol wasn't sure he thought they really grasped what they were supposed to be) to unite people, not to mention the rest of the shit that was sprung on him between those kids and...
Sol paused in the middle of popping his neck, and that not-worry tapped him on the shoulder again. He rolled it as if it would help; nah, not workin'. Well, there was always the chance...
...He wouldn't be that lucky. Again, didn't come with him, from the looks of it.
Strange feeling.
Sol wasn't sure he liked it, but nothing he could do about it for now. Just gotta pick back up where he left off. Which meant leaving the plaza and looking to see if anything'd changed since he'd last been here. Or figuring how long it'd been.
Stooping, the man hefted up the bag and slung it over his shoulder, thumb hooked under the strap to shift it into the "right" spot.
"Round two, huh?" Least they could've done was drag the brat with him so he could keep an eye on him, fluidity of time be damned.
... ... ...Nah, that'd shift the balance of everything, wouldn't it?