Post by laurent borchardt on Jan 24, 2018 11:18:50 GMT
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◥◤
Long lashes blink demurely as the tailor awakens from his slumber, a gentle yawn stretching pink lips. A naked hand comes to grasp at golden threads, the tips of nails scraping his scalp as he tugs before falling to cover his eyes at the sight of morning's first light. He sighs, a sound of defeat as he realises that he fell asleep at the counter again, finishing the last stitches on his latest pair of trousers. How long has it been since he last went home and slept in his bed? Two days, perhaps? Or maybe three?
[break][break]Sitting up and stretching upon his stool, he feels and hears his spine crack, readjusting itself from his prolonged curled position. Splaying a hand against his lower back as it arches, he groans softly, eyes still closed behind a clenched fist. He takes a deep breath before lowering his arms. Bleary with his surroundings, he stumbles onto the ground, shoes hitting the wooden floor with a hollow clunk and pauses for a second to regain his balance. Once deemed ready for movement, he immediately searches out his familiar.
[break][break]Sigrun lies asleep in front of the counter, her large form curled much akin to that of a household cat, breathing deeply and clearly not about to wake up. Smiling softly, the man decides against waking her as he goes to prepare his shop for another day. Looking to the clock, it reads seven-thirty; enough to time for him to be ready by eight.
[break][break]His hands comes to smooth the creases in his silk vest, pulling the fabric taut to allow for a more decent coverage of his torso. Looking down at his trousers, he grimaces at the visible wrinkles and hopes that his less-than-impeccable state might be forgiven just for today. It shan't happen again, he promises himself.
[break][break]Putting the half-made trousers into the backroom, he clears the counter of last night's mess, tossing cotton spools into a container in a drawer and rearranging the scissors and needles and tapes. There is a reputation to maintain, one that he cannot have compromised for the sake of his own sanity. Once satisfied, he runs a hand through his hair, hoping that he would have enough time to fix it up before the first person walks in.
[break][break]
tag: ninos knight
[break]ooc: HHNGNGG
◥◤
Long lashes blink demurely as the tailor awakens from his slumber, a gentle yawn stretching pink lips. A naked hand comes to grasp at golden threads, the tips of nails scraping his scalp as he tugs before falling to cover his eyes at the sight of morning's first light. He sighs, a sound of defeat as he realises that he fell asleep at the counter again, finishing the last stitches on his latest pair of trousers. How long has it been since he last went home and slept in his bed? Two days, perhaps? Or maybe three?
[break][break]Sitting up and stretching upon his stool, he feels and hears his spine crack, readjusting itself from his prolonged curled position. Splaying a hand against his lower back as it arches, he groans softly, eyes still closed behind a clenched fist. He takes a deep breath before lowering his arms. Bleary with his surroundings, he stumbles onto the ground, shoes hitting the wooden floor with a hollow clunk and pauses for a second to regain his balance. Once deemed ready for movement, he immediately searches out his familiar.
[break][break]Sigrun lies asleep in front of the counter, her large form curled much akin to that of a household cat, breathing deeply and clearly not about to wake up. Smiling softly, the man decides against waking her as he goes to prepare his shop for another day. Looking to the clock, it reads seven-thirty; enough to time for him to be ready by eight.
[break][break]His hands comes to smooth the creases in his silk vest, pulling the fabric taut to allow for a more decent coverage of his torso. Looking down at his trousers, he grimaces at the visible wrinkles and hopes that his less-than-impeccable state might be forgiven just for today. It shan't happen again, he promises himself.
[break][break]Putting the half-made trousers into the backroom, he clears the counter of last night's mess, tossing cotton spools into a container in a drawer and rearranging the scissors and needles and tapes. There is a reputation to maintain, one that he cannot have compromised for the sake of his own sanity. Once satisfied, he runs a hand through his hair, hoping that he would have enough time to fix it up before the first person walks in.
[break][break]
tag: ninos knight
[break]ooc: HHNGNGG
[attr="class","alive_mucha"]
[attr="class","alive_much2"]-- Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.
[attr="class","lemcred"]lemming--