Berrod Armstrong sipped from his mug of juice as he exited the Astral Agency headquarters. The morning air was crisp, and the rising sun glittered upon the metal fixings of the Goblet property's fences. For the sake of minimal decency he donned a pair of loose white trousers; he couldn't fetch the morning news in the raw, after all.
Casually he picked up the tightly folded periodical to give it a quick flip through. The ad of the scantily clad Highlander brought a slight, typically lecherous smirk to his lips -- then he recognized who it was.Â
Needless to say, his mouthful of juice soaked the page through.
Casually he picked up the tightly folded periodical to give it a quick flip through. The ad of the scantily clad Highlander brought a slight, typically lecherous smirk to his lips -- then he recognized who it was.Â
Needless to say, his mouthful of juice soaked the page through.