12-19-2015, 10:41 PM
And the wind dropped to a low whine. As a narrowly slitted eye looked careful at the array of cards sat into a pyramid shape. One over the corners of the two cards above it to a set of 28 cards. Another eye opened as the head ferried itself a few inches up, finger tapping chin. 3 and ten to stack. Flip one from deck, another three. He winced. This could be bad. A glint of yellow from a light shone through the window as he blinked, momentarily distracted. But he returned. Flip one from deck. Yes! Ace and queen,, opening another ten to go with the three, opening a king, King to stack, Flip from deck, 4, flip, 8. Nothing. And he finally stopped stretching his back with a soft pop, He should probably give it a rest. 63+ games of pyramid in a row... 63 being what he counted only since he'd started counting.
He wrinkled his face in personal disgust. Well then, yeah, definitely about the time to stop. He turned away from the table and unfinished game and rubbed his forehead. Sudden headache. "Uhhg." A few footsteps, a flop into a chair. The flutter of long clothing, and padding of a body in a plush suede chair. The most pricy bit of furniture in the room, with a ply-wood table, and rough sanded lengths of unvarnished wood for shelving. The window let a new tone out as he heard a 'thump, thump' upon it, and leaned forwards. Yellow eyes scanning the window to see naught but a tree branch broken from it's former position, banging at it. A sigh, and the inward glare of closed eyes. Pallid cloth sat on this form, not quite white, but a somber ember cream robe, overly simple in design to look like it was made while wearing it. Like it didn't come off.
Sitting here playing games felt like such a waste, and yet he thought little upon it most of the time. He sat, unable to remember how long he'd been at it. Days? Weeks? Years? It bled together for him. Red brows creasing in thought. What really DID he remember? A sudden weight in his lap almost startled him as he heard a purr-like sound. Although he reached down and ran a soft skinned hand through the spinous fronds of the grey coat of his little friend. Little more than a physical manipulation of his former cat. "Hello Sandrise." His voice a boring overly neutral drawl, dwelling uncomfortably long on any S to the point they sounded like "thhhh"s. He looked human, maybe a little bit too skinny. Hair medium length, dull brownish red pulled back into a U-loop. Standing at only a shallow 4'8", pale skin not helped by his choice of clothing. His face angular and child-like.
"Yes... What DO I remember..?" He asked her as she continued plying his leg with that simple sound of contentedness. As far as he could think... Nothing.
//This is why I am always nervous of attempting to join.
He wrinkled his face in personal disgust. Well then, yeah, definitely about the time to stop. He turned away from the table and unfinished game and rubbed his forehead. Sudden headache. "Uhhg." A few footsteps, a flop into a chair. The flutter of long clothing, and padding of a body in a plush suede chair. The most pricy bit of furniture in the room, with a ply-wood table, and rough sanded lengths of unvarnished wood for shelving. The window let a new tone out as he heard a 'thump, thump' upon it, and leaned forwards. Yellow eyes scanning the window to see naught but a tree branch broken from it's former position, banging at it. A sigh, and the inward glare of closed eyes. Pallid cloth sat on this form, not quite white, but a somber ember cream robe, overly simple in design to look like it was made while wearing it. Like it didn't come off.
Sitting here playing games felt like such a waste, and yet he thought little upon it most of the time. He sat, unable to remember how long he'd been at it. Days? Weeks? Years? It bled together for him. Red brows creasing in thought. What really DID he remember? A sudden weight in his lap almost startled him as he heard a purr-like sound. Although he reached down and ran a soft skinned hand through the spinous fronds of the grey coat of his little friend. Little more than a physical manipulation of his former cat. "Hello Sandrise." His voice a boring overly neutral drawl, dwelling uncomfortably long on any S to the point they sounded like "thhhh"s. He looked human, maybe a little bit too skinny. Hair medium length, dull brownish red pulled back into a U-loop. Standing at only a shallow 4'8", pale skin not helped by his choice of clothing. His face angular and child-like.
"Yes... What DO I remember..?" He asked her as she continued plying his leg with that simple sound of contentedness. As far as he could think... Nothing.
//This is why I am always nervous of attempting to join.