Chaoslord29
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2009
Allister regarded the largish, fog engulfed village with mixed emotions. It was good to be returning home in one sense, more a home than he had anywhere else, and were another in his position, they might have felt a sense of anticipation and excitement for what this particular trip entailed. Moving down the hill however, pulling his pea-coat tighter around himself more out of habit than any discomfort in the cold, Allister could not help a sense of foreboding, that his decisions were not his own, and that the doom that now confronted him did not bode well for the future. 'Still', he thought, 'There can be no reason to fret for things which are beyond our control, and you've hardly ever been one to just play a part.' His own voice felt chiding, mocking in his head and brought a pursed smirk to his striking features, prompting him to remove his hat and run his hand through, dark curly locks before replacing it.
The morning was still early as he made his way onto the cobbled streets of the main road, and people were just beginning to busy themselves about morning chores. In passing a grocer pushing a cart of his vegetables inside, Allister tipped his hat, and the grocer responded with a nod and quick 'milord', as he continued on. There was something about the isles that always captivated Allister's interest, something about the attitude of the peoples and in particular their take on the proprieties of status and rank. He did everything he could to be the Englishman when he was here, and if it weren't for the faint tan that he seemed to invariably retain, he might have made a passable Londoner.
Deciding that it was still too early to call on the party of interest, or at the very least, too early to begin such an endeavor such as his, he made his way towards the Inn, where he was greeted warmly and made himself comfortable by the fire with a mug of tea and a small breakfast. Removing his coat and setting his cane and hat aside, he saw his reflection in the fire, and it did nothing to ease his state of mind.
The morning was still early as he made his way onto the cobbled streets of the main road, and people were just beginning to busy themselves about morning chores. In passing a grocer pushing a cart of his vegetables inside, Allister tipped his hat, and the grocer responded with a nod and quick 'milord', as he continued on. There was something about the isles that always captivated Allister's interest, something about the attitude of the peoples and in particular their take on the proprieties of status and rank. He did everything he could to be the Englishman when he was here, and if it weren't for the faint tan that he seemed to invariably retain, he might have made a passable Londoner.
Deciding that it was still too early to call on the party of interest, or at the very least, too early to begin such an endeavor such as his, he made his way towards the Inn, where he was greeted warmly and made himself comfortable by the fire with a mug of tea and a small breakfast. Removing his coat and setting his cane and hat aside, he saw his reflection in the fire, and it did nothing to ease his state of mind.