[There are many figures milling about - and one standing in a corner pinching his nose, like this is some sort of penance. To Johannes Cabal, it is. He's unsure of where he stands in life at the moment, but that didn't have to be literal, and didn't have to involve... the commonwealth. He's an unknown in these waters, certainly, although they are not literal waters, and he's sure he can get a new lease on life... But he doesn't really want one.
He's caked in ash and looks exhausted, but he's still frowning, eyes moving like he's trying to solve a riddle. He's certainly not paying attention to anyone who may approach, and if spoken to, will simply raise a suspicious eyebrow.]
B: Curti Center
[At the news he must share a space, Cabal physically recoils.]
Unacceptable. [His voice is curt, clipped, and slightly accented. Hesse German, to those who would recognize it.] I need my own space to work.
[He's assured he'll be able to acquire such a space, given time and resources, and settles down, face grim and dour. This is a complete waste of time. He marches away, shoving past people with an assertiveness not betrayed by his lithe frame.]
C: Up In The Sky
[Cabal's been on airships before. He's flown small ones, even. They didn't work like this, but he's been studying the principles, and he's quite sure that in the event of an emergency he could replace the pilot.
It's still boring until that happens, though, and he spends most of the time studying his environs, reading a newspaper, and checking his watch. That doesn't mean he doesn't pay attention to the people, however. Now and then he'll be caught staring at someone.
Who can blame him, after his last trip.]
D: Guilds
[Cabal has heard rumors, of late, of a group of people known as Chemists. It's said that with enough study, one can even raise the fallen... And that perked his ears even more than the name. He's actually not sulking, or frowning, or otherwise dour as he approaches the guild hall. In fact, he's simply very serious, which is usually as close as the former necromancer gets to jovial, as he listens to the lectures and signs the docket.
... However, he's not sure what to make of the uniform. For one, it's not black, and it doesn't involve a cravat. It's completely out of his purview.]
Johannes Cabal | The Fall of the House of Cabal (And Preceding Novels)
[There are many figures milling about - and one standing in a corner pinching his nose, like this is some sort of penance. To Johannes Cabal, it is. He's unsure of where he stands in life at the moment, but that didn't have to be literal, and didn't have to involve... the commonwealth. He's an unknown in these waters, certainly, although they are not literal waters, and he's sure he can get a new lease on life... But he doesn't really want one.
He's caked in ash and looks exhausted, but he's still frowning, eyes moving like he's trying to solve a riddle. He's certainly not paying attention to anyone who may approach, and if spoken to, will simply raise a suspicious eyebrow.]
B: Curti Center
[At the news he must share a space, Cabal physically recoils.]
Unacceptable. [His voice is curt, clipped, and slightly accented. Hesse German, to those who would recognize it.] I need my own space to work.
[He's assured he'll be able to acquire such a space, given time and resources, and settles down, face grim and dour. This is a complete waste of time. He marches away, shoving past people with an assertiveness not betrayed by his lithe frame.]
C: Up In The Sky
[Cabal's been on airships before. He's flown small ones, even. They didn't work like this, but he's been studying the principles, and he's quite sure that in the event of an emergency he could replace the pilot.
It's still boring until that happens, though, and he spends most of the time studying his environs, reading a newspaper, and checking his watch. That doesn't mean he doesn't pay attention to the people, however. Now and then he'll be caught staring at someone.
Who can blame him, after his last trip.]
D: Guilds
[Cabal has heard rumors, of late, of a group of people known as Chemists. It's said that with enough study, one can even raise the fallen... And that perked his ears even more than the name. He's actually not sulking, or frowning, or otherwise dour as he approaches the guild hall. In fact, he's simply very serious, which is usually as close as the former necromancer gets to jovial, as he listens to the lectures and signs the docket.
... However, he's not sure what to make of the uniform. For one, it's not black, and it doesn't involve a cravat. It's completely out of his purview.]
Anything Else
((Any other prompt tickle your fancy? HMU!))