In the library, between the stacks, there's a thud followed by a muffled grunt, as though someone has abruptly and unexpectedly fallen from a height of a couple feet - far enough to knock the wind out of them, but not quite far enough to do any significant damage unless they landed very poorly. Silence reigns for a moment, and then...rustling.
Should anyone come investigate the sounds, they will come upon a short, largely humanoid man dressed in the loose and many-pocketed clothing of a veteran traveler, crystal-tipped staff slung over one shoulder, feline tail that matches his red hair in colour lashing unhappily behind him. He picks up a book, rifles briefly through it, picks up another - then pauses. One catlike ear swivels towards his unanticipated company, and he turns, slit pupils widening slightly.
The expression isn't hostile, exactly - anyone not too unnerved by the inhuman characteristics and bloody crimson eyes might read wary puzzlement, and when he speaks, that's matched by his tone.
Unfortunately, he isn't speaking anything approaching English. Fortunately, the tone and body language for "where am I?" transcends the language barrier. It might take some pantomime to get the point across, but it's probably possible to convince him to come along quietly.
II. Well Read
"--I've only just arrived," G'raha Tia is in the middle of protesting when someone passing by - that's you - catches his eye.
He turns to flag down the familiar face (and it might take a moment to recognize him for anyone who's only ever met him on ADI property, because out here he looks purely human, feline attributes hidden and colouring muted), brow knit in a wary sort of puzzlement. He doesn't object to having an account at the local library - quite the opposite - but it's strange. Particularly as that wasn't in the packet of information and identification he'd been issued to make him seem like he belongs, however tenuously, to this star.
"Have they insisted you already have a lending account too?"
III. Burned Bridges
The sight of the landscape streaming by the train windows is lulling, almost meditative, and G'raha has been drifting, lost in thought, for the better part of half an hour when something grabs his attention and yanks. He jerks upright with a sharp intake of breath, then half-rises, turning to follow the shape of the charred body as the train thunders past.
It's possible that if anyone happens to be dozing in the seat next to or in front of him, he might clip them with elbow or tail, the latter invisible, but a solid weight.
Wildcard (If you have an idea for something else, hit me! Or PM if you want to plot something.)
G'raha Tia | Final Fantasy XIV
In the library, between the stacks, there's a thud followed by a muffled grunt, as though someone has abruptly and unexpectedly fallen from a height of a couple feet - far enough to knock the wind out of them, but not quite far enough to do any significant damage unless they landed very poorly. Silence reigns for a moment, and then...rustling.
Should anyone come investigate the sounds, they will come upon a short, largely humanoid man dressed in the loose and many-pocketed clothing of a veteran traveler, crystal-tipped staff slung over one shoulder, feline tail that matches his red hair in colour lashing unhappily behind him. He picks up a book, rifles briefly through it, picks up another - then pauses. One catlike ear swivels towards his unanticipated company, and he turns, slit pupils widening slightly.
The expression isn't hostile, exactly - anyone not too unnerved by the inhuman characteristics and bloody crimson eyes might read wary puzzlement, and when he speaks, that's matched by his tone.
Unfortunately, he isn't speaking anything approaching English. Fortunately, the tone and body language for "where am I?" transcends the language barrier. It might take some pantomime to get the point across, but it's probably possible to convince him to come along quietly.
II. Well Read
"--I've only just arrived," G'raha Tia is in the middle of protesting when someone passing by - that's you - catches his eye.
He turns to flag down the familiar face (and it might take a moment to recognize him for anyone who's only ever met him on ADI property, because out here he looks purely human, feline attributes hidden and colouring muted), brow knit in a wary sort of puzzlement. He doesn't object to having an account at the local library - quite the opposite - but it's strange. Particularly as that wasn't in the packet of information and identification he'd been issued to make him seem like he belongs, however tenuously, to this star.
"Have they insisted you already have a lending account too?"
III. Burned Bridges
The sight of the landscape streaming by the train windows is lulling, almost meditative, and G'raha has been drifting, lost in thought, for the better part of half an hour when something grabs his attention and yanks. He jerks upright with a sharp intake of breath, then half-rises, turning to follow the shape of the charred body as the train thunders past.
It's possible that if anyone happens to be dozing in the seat next to or in front of him, he might clip them with elbow or tail, the latter invisible, but a solid weight.
Wildcard
(If you have an idea for something else, hit me! Or PM if you want to plot something.)