Snippet #1352809

Since Solomon seemed to have no objections to the plan, Pierre exited the office with the others and immediately left for his apartment to go pack. There wasn't too much to pack, just a few changes of clothes and his alchemical equipment. Most of his clothes were warm and bulky, hardly suitable for the desert-like conditions of the far south, but Pierre picked out a few of the thinner pieces and put them in his briefcase. He could always buy some more fitting attire when they got to their destination. Once he had packed his scientific instruments, no pun intended, carefully into the suitcase, the alchemist swept his research papers into an untidy pile and stuffed them inside. He would be able to sort them out later, once they arrived at Southgate.

As he passed by his bookshelf, Pierre contemplated bringing some reading material with him. After a few seconds' hesitation, he grabbed a few reference books, as well as a novel or two. It was a long ride to Southgate, and the only chance they would have to get off the train would be at the halfway point of Junction City. Perhaps a good book would help distract Pierre from the tedious travel ahead of him.

"If only zere was some sort of flying contraption zat could be used for travel," Pierre mumbled as he walked out of his room, locking the door up tightly behind him. "It would be much faster zan zose bumbling death traps they call trains."

Before long, he was out in the courtyard and ready to go. Pierre walked over to one of the many park-style benches that adorned the grassy plaza, resting his arm on the wrought iron armrest and setting his briefcase on his lap. The man's foot tapped impatiently; Pierre had always been a fast-moving person. I 'ope zat zis will be over soon, he thought, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on his suitcase. I 'ave always 'ated ze South.