Post #2023358 in The Lines Between Black and White, a roleplay on RPG

This was an admittedly imperfect situation. Joseph's chin dropped to his upper chest in a particular exhalation, some tiny droplets of now-diluted sunscreen and sweat falling from the tip of his nose and onto the street below. Stare to the ground, the young man’s feet never stopped moving… his head only occasionally tipping to the side to nudge his dark-framed glasses against one of his shoulders in a moderately-successful attempt to slide them back up the bridge of his nose. The sun appeared to be growing only hotter, but that was more likely a symptom of his darkened attire: a dark gray button-up with cuffs rolled up to his elbows and tails tucked into leather-belted black slacks. Suddenly, the shrill burst of a horn honked out as a car whirred past Joseph's right ear, causing him to return his face sharply upright. Well, that seemed highly unnecessary. He was neither in the road nor on the wrong side of it. The traffic was simply restless today: an exceptional degree of speeding and tailgating, it seemed. Although, perhaps that was the norm here; he didn’t have nearly enough data to say.

As a matter of fact, this was the first time Joseph had ever been in this area. He had discovered a bus that departed a point almost tangential to the edge of the university campus, but the route's closest stop to his new settlement remained a decent distance away. Legs continuing to pull his dark rubber soles in a dull scuffle against the pavement, Joseph glanced between the sky above and the letters printed on a passing street sign. All of the cab companies charged far too much, but if memory of his planned pathway served, it was not that much farther now; he should still arrive well within his estimated time range. For a second instance, the young man tipped his face to glance peripherally at the sun. North. South. East. West. Yes, that would seem correct. Likely, the linked metal watch that was attached around his right wrist would have provided a more accurate and efficient assessment, but unfortunately, both Joseph’s right and left hands were, at the moment, otherwise occupied.

It was the most reasonable option that he could think of if he was to walk the last leg on his own: a total of four pieces of luggage, so two per hand, weight evenly distributed. Each had a duo of wheels along its edge and a case of gray, waterproofed hard-plastic—not the soft-shelled sorts that were most commonly seen. Tying each pair together back-to-front—as if it was gift-wrapped—in thick rope, the two-suitcase units both leaned at an ideal angle when all four wheels were on the ground, so Joseph didn’t need to exert extra energy constantly pulling the handles up and into his hands. Aesthetically, it was all rather ridiculous looking, but practically, it made the load seem a great deal lighter than it was, and that was certainly saying something. Books, binders, papers, clothes, tools, collections, his guns, his supplies, more books… Granted, lighter did not necessitate that it was light.

Rolling his neck clockwise 360-degrees and then counterclockwise 180, Joseph let the base of his head relax against the back of his neck before shaking it cuttingly from side-to-side in yet another attempt to jolt his glasses back up and in front of his eyes. At the moment, he was only able to read the street signs by tipping his chin and staring down toward the base of his nose like some pretentious old librarian, but eventually, they re-settled. Cautiously, the young man lowered his head and—stalling his breath—turned his gaze up to the approaching intersection, only to, ever so slowly, have the sign blur into illegibility as the frames slid leisurely back down the length of his nose like the flattened cartoon character that falls down a plate of recently-crashed-into glass. He blinked. Joseph had likely witnessed that image some youthful Saturday morning. How ridiculously inaccurate it was, but well, it wasn’t an issue worth losing any ground over. In his brief moment of visual clarity, Joseph had learned that this was, at last, his final turn.

Back at the very start of his travels, a particularly inquisitive fellow bus-passenger had remarked that the young man was quite “lucky” to find such a location at such a rate. Of course, that particular construct was mere superstition and did not exist, but Joseph could presume what the grizzled fellow meant: it seemed to be a beneficial discovery, and he could agree with that. After all, he had been comparing the classifieds of various newspapers for a great period of time before even announcing his temporary leave, but it was to minimal effect. Then, once the decision had been officially recorded, there was the increased pressure of time; the young man would need to vacate the dormitories soon if no longer enrolled. Some of his excess records and collections, he put into his already-rented storage unit, but there remained the greater question of where he would place himself. Just then, Joseph’s pace decreased to a halt and he stared up the driveway to the residence that now stood before him. Ultimately, however, there had been limited complications. The young man found his answer mid-afternoon, one week before deadline, in paper number six, and now here it was, as described and at last: Blanchett Manor.

(OOC: I know that he is not all the way up to the house. I cut out that bit because I (as a reader) don't want him to go in just yet. I'll send him up the rest of the way later.)

Snippet #2023358

located in Agalia, a part of The Lines Between Black and White, one of the many universes on RPG.

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Characters Present

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