[Clothed in his full set of spiky armor and weapon on his back, Fenris is an intimidating sight. The vibrantly colored vegetation casts bright hues across gleaming silver. He'd followed that little green line all the way, trepidation heightening as the light had begun to fade -- however time seems to work here, he's no longer in the brightly lit corridors of the place where he woke, but it doesn't feel like day has turned to night.
The field of glowing flowers is beautiful, Fenris thinks privately, beyond anything he's seen in his life. It's not a sentiment he'll say aloud.
Wandering for some time, he begins to feel... strange. Light-headed, though not dangerously so. When he turns and finds the silhouette of someone in the shadows, he's compelled to approach.]
Are you here to admire the view?
[Does he sound playful? It's not your imagination.]
orientation
[After gritting his teeth through the tedium of the seminar, Fenris is handed a piece of paper. He takes it in one gauntleted hand, metal claws tearing an immediate hole through one flimsy corner. Brows drawn together in a frustrated wrinkle, he directs a glare down at the paper. He can't decipher the text at all.
Aware of the time limit with a mounting flare of anger, Fenris approaches the nearest individual and thrusts the paper at them. It hangs off the tip of one pointed claw.]
You, tell me what this missive says. Quickly.
sleepover
[Fenris doesn't sleep. Completely dressed, he sits upright in a corner. Not that it's difficult to remain awake and watchful with the level of noise in the room: an inexplicable whirring from somewhere further away; noisy snoring from at least two other slumbering bodies on the floor; and the haunting avenue of his thoughts in the dark, meanwhile, as the night drags on.
At some point, he decides to stand and cross the room. He's not particularly careful about it, so if he happens to crush fingers or toes underneath the heel of his bare foot, then so be it.]
fenris | dragon age
[Clothed in his full set of spiky armor and weapon on his back, Fenris is an intimidating sight. The vibrantly colored vegetation casts bright hues across gleaming silver. He'd followed that little green line all the way, trepidation heightening as the light had begun to fade -- however time seems to work here, he's no longer in the brightly lit corridors of the place where he woke, but it doesn't feel like day has turned to night.
The field of glowing flowers is beautiful, Fenris thinks privately, beyond anything he's seen in his life. It's not a sentiment he'll say aloud.
Wandering for some time, he begins to feel... strange. Light-headed, though not dangerously so. When he turns and finds the silhouette of someone in the shadows, he's compelled to approach.]
Are you here to admire the view?
[Does he sound playful? It's not your imagination.]
orientation
[After gritting his teeth through the tedium of the seminar, Fenris is handed a piece of paper. He takes it in one gauntleted hand, metal claws tearing an immediate hole through one flimsy corner. Brows drawn together in a frustrated wrinkle, he directs a glare down at the paper. He can't decipher the text at all.
Aware of the time limit with a mounting flare of anger, Fenris approaches the nearest individual and thrusts the paper at them. It hangs off the tip of one pointed claw.]
You, tell me what this missive says. Quickly.
sleepover
[Fenris doesn't sleep. Completely dressed, he sits upright in a corner. Not that it's difficult to remain awake and watchful with the level of noise in the room: an inexplicable whirring from somewhere further away; noisy snoring from at least two other slumbering bodies on the floor; and the haunting avenue of his thoughts in the dark, meanwhile, as the night drags on.
At some point, he decides to stand and cross the room. He's not particularly careful about it, so if he happens to crush fingers or toes underneath the heel of his bare foot, then so be it.]
bangr