((This is going to be a short addition - had to rewrite completely once I realized my timescale was off and what I had written wouldn't' make any sense - that and it's already 1am Est and I should get some sleep before the beta "today"))
  Iitryo sat at his cluttered desk,his head resting in his hands. No, no, no.I thought as suddenly leaned back into the chair and pounded the top of the desk with his right fist. He grimaced and shook his hand, at the sudden pain that the action caused. He dropped his head into his left hand, pressing his forehead into his left palm, and his fingers sinking into his now longer hair. This can’t be happening, not now… not after two years of working non-stop… and still can’t find one word of them anywhere.
               Â
  He looked at the piece of parchment setting in front of him, re-reading it over for the umpteenth time, hoping beyond hope, that he had misread it all those previous times. But still it said the same thing; we have no knowledge, no records of them passing through. Two years since Bahamut raged, two years of worrying whether or not his parents, out there somewhere that night, survived. Iitryo took a deep breath and looked up at the dusty looking ceiling. It was foolish… I should have known, all those years traveling… Even if they are still alive, finding them blind.  Impossible.
      Â
  He slumped forward in the chair, and took a deep breath. He slowly looked around his small, sparse room. “Three years†he muttered “Three years and this is all I have…“ He sighed.Â
  Iitryo winced as he kicked the desk without thinking. He kicked his desk, not out of frustration of failing yet again, but because as much as he didn't want to admit it. He always knew that it was an impossible task even before the calamity occurred.
  Iitryo sat at his cluttered desk,his head resting in his hands. No, no, no.I thought as suddenly leaned back into the chair and pounded the top of the desk with his right fist. He grimaced and shook his hand, at the sudden pain that the action caused. He dropped his head into his left hand, pressing his forehead into his left palm, and his fingers sinking into his now longer hair. This can’t be happening, not now… not after two years of working non-stop… and still can’t find one word of them anywhere.
               Â
  He looked at the piece of parchment setting in front of him, re-reading it over for the umpteenth time, hoping beyond hope, that he had misread it all those previous times. But still it said the same thing; we have no knowledge, no records of them passing through. Two years since Bahamut raged, two years of worrying whether or not his parents, out there somewhere that night, survived. Iitryo took a deep breath and looked up at the dusty looking ceiling. It was foolish… I should have known, all those years traveling… Even if they are still alive, finding them blind.  Impossible.
      Â
  He slumped forward in the chair, and took a deep breath. He slowly looked around his small, sparse room. “Three years†he muttered “Three years and this is all I have…“ He sighed.Â
  Iitryo winced as he kicked the desk without thinking. He kicked his desk, not out of frustration of failing yet again, but because as much as he didn't want to admit it. He always knew that it was an impossible task even before the calamity occurred.
