Richard of Windor (
jewelboxes) wrote2017-11-19 09:47 pm
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[ B. These Boots Were Made for Sinking. ]
[Perhaps he should have expected things to turn out this way. After all, Richard does have a rather accidental penchant for finding himself in precarious situations. After having awakened in an unknown land, strange and disorienting both, Richard has begun journeying in search of a nearby settlement or town.
He trudges through a forested area with arms folded in front of him in an effort to block out some of the chill - not that it proves particularly effective, mind you. His nerves are already on edge, and it isn't long before he's dearly wishing he possessed a more practical pair of footwear. The overly saturated ground tugs at his heels with each step, sending him stumbling on more than one occasion with a hiss of frustration muttered under his breath.]
[As he's making his way around a creek bed, his luck completely runs out. There's a terribly undignified yelp as Richard windmills, and his leg sinks in above the rim of his thigh high boot. He tries to use his other leg to lever himself backwards and out of the muck, but already that foot, too, is beginning to sink.]
Curses! It would appear that I've gotten myself into quite the predicament... [There's a note of self-deprecation, too raw to have been knowingly transmitted. He's far from being in the best of moods at the moment. Perhaps he should call for help? Or perhaps that would make matters even worse, as who knows what sort of person might come to his aid. Either way, he is most certainly...stuck.]
[ C. Trust Issues Extend to Scanner Pods as Well. ]
[Don't panic, you say? Unfortunately after nearly losing his life and his favorite pair of boots to the sinking swamps, Richard is not particularly thrilled about being tailed by this...scanner pod. The machine is scuttling far too close for comfort, and there really is no way for him to know if it's purpose is merely surveillance or if it possesses combat abilities as well. As such, Richard's fingers hover just above his rapier as he takes on a defensive stance, his tone a command lacking any of its usual warmth.]
[ D. ]
[Perhaps he should have expected things to turn out this way. After all, Richard does have a rather accidental penchant for finding himself in precarious situations. After having awakened in an unknown land, strange and disorienting both, Richard has begun journeying in search of a nearby settlement or town.
He trudges through a forested area with arms folded in front of him in an effort to block out some of the chill - not that it proves particularly effective, mind you. His nerves are already on edge, and it isn't long before he's dearly wishing he possessed a more practical pair of footwear. The overly saturated ground tugs at his heels with each step, sending him stumbling on more than one occasion with a hiss of frustration muttered under his breath.]
[As he's making his way around a creek bed, his luck completely runs out. There's a terribly undignified yelp as Richard windmills, and his leg sinks in above the rim of his thigh high boot. He tries to use his other leg to lever himself backwards and out of the muck, but already that foot, too, is beginning to sink.]
Curses! It would appear that I've gotten myself into quite the predicament... [There's a note of self-deprecation, too raw to have been knowingly transmitted. He's far from being in the best of moods at the moment. Perhaps he should call for help? Or perhaps that would make matters even worse, as who knows what sort of person might come to his aid. Either way, he is most certainly...stuck.]
[ C. Trust Issues Extend to Scanner Pods as Well. ]
[Don't panic, you say? Unfortunately after nearly losing his life and his favorite pair of boots to the sinking swamps, Richard is not particularly thrilled about being tailed by this...scanner pod. The machine is scuttling far too close for comfort, and there really is no way for him to know if it's purpose is merely surveillance or if it possesses combat abilities as well. As such, Richard's fingers hover just above his rapier as he takes on a defensive stance, his tone a command lacking any of its usual warmth.]
[ D. ]