
"Boooored!"
Laying across the counter of the shop, the bulky Midlander had draped himself, one unshod foot dangling over the front of the counter, the other propped up on the wooden surface. His left hand held a child's toy, one of those stupid little sliding puzzles that he could never quite get or figure out with any timeliness, while in his other he clinked a small pile of gil at his side over and over again. His thumb moved lazely across the sliding puzzle pieces--he knew it was a picture of a Phoenix chick--or rather, what the artist THOUGHT was a phoenix chick--and the one tile with the beak just didn't want to go into place.
The shop had been dead for nearly a week now. Money wasn't a problem--it never was. The problem was that he had no one to taunt or berate or amuse himself with at the moment. Moggie-Moglin was still gone enjoying the beginning festivities of the Moonfire Fair and Tarot was stuck manning the shop. Sure he could go and have some fun but--well, actually there was no reason beyond making sure everything stayed where it was supposed to stay. He didn't know why he hesitated to go enjoy himself. Maybe because he'd be enjoying them alone again...? Gods what he wouldn't give for a posse again. The good old days.
He tilted his head up and looked to the corner of the store. He'd come to Ul'dah quite on his own. He missed his old band--the Phoenix Talon. Vitti would always stand in the corner there, reading palms and nicking a few gil every now and then as her customers departed. Waisal would be at the front to greet people as they came in, looking them over for any kind of personal information the Phoenix could use later; oh, and then there was Azziu...dear, dear Azziu who would dig up dirt on everyone and then blackmail them later...
Wait. That wasn't right.
He blinked and sat up slightly. He never had a group like that--and he'd never known anyone by those names. The boredom was driving him mad!
"GODS! Send me SOMEONE!" he moaned dramatically, flopping back down onto the counter again.
Laying across the counter of the shop, the bulky Midlander had draped himself, one unshod foot dangling over the front of the counter, the other propped up on the wooden surface. His left hand held a child's toy, one of those stupid little sliding puzzles that he could never quite get or figure out with any timeliness, while in his other he clinked a small pile of gil at his side over and over again. His thumb moved lazely across the sliding puzzle pieces--he knew it was a picture of a Phoenix chick--or rather, what the artist THOUGHT was a phoenix chick--and the one tile with the beak just didn't want to go into place.
The shop had been dead for nearly a week now. Money wasn't a problem--it never was. The problem was that he had no one to taunt or berate or amuse himself with at the moment. Moggie-Moglin was still gone enjoying the beginning festivities of the Moonfire Fair and Tarot was stuck manning the shop. Sure he could go and have some fun but--well, actually there was no reason beyond making sure everything stayed where it was supposed to stay. He didn't know why he hesitated to go enjoy himself. Maybe because he'd be enjoying them alone again...? Gods what he wouldn't give for a posse again. The good old days.
He tilted his head up and looked to the corner of the store. He'd come to Ul'dah quite on his own. He missed his old band--the Phoenix Talon. Vitti would always stand in the corner there, reading palms and nicking a few gil every now and then as her customers departed. Waisal would be at the front to greet people as they came in, looking them over for any kind of personal information the Phoenix could use later; oh, and then there was Azziu...dear, dear Azziu who would dig up dirt on everyone and then blackmail them later...
Wait. That wasn't right.
He blinked and sat up slightly. He never had a group like that--and he'd never known anyone by those names. The boredom was driving him mad!
"GODS! Send me SOMEONE!" he moaned dramatically, flopping back down onto the counter again.