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Stranger and stranger. The other-her, the Rinoa that Lady Caraway felt like she was tracking through time and space, apparently owned a store in town, at least according to the tiny blonde Sorceress who worked there. How had she come to settle here? Mr. Sta- Jono said that the Rinoa he knew had gone to school here, but Rinoa had been privately tutored most of her life.
They still had no real progress on the other question, what had caused the rifts and portals, but the emergence of new faces on the island seemed to indicate that more and more of those were opening, almost as though cracks were appearing in a dam just short of bursting. It wasn't a reassuring thought.
The benefit of everyone assuming you owned a store was that you were perfectly free to make use of the merchandise, and so Rinoa had helped herself to several of the books from the back of the room. She would put them back when she was done, but for now, one of them might help.
She was in street clothes today, as there was no one to impress, and she'd replaced the bottle of chianti from the other night with a pinot noir. Rinoa sprawled out on the couch, one of the heavier tomes on her lap, hoping to find something, anything, that might explain what in the world (worlds? universes?) was going on.
(open for housemates or visitors!)
They still had no real progress on the other question, what had caused the rifts and portals, but the emergence of new faces on the island seemed to indicate that more and more of those were opening, almost as though cracks were appearing in a dam just short of bursting. It wasn't a reassuring thought.
The benefit of everyone assuming you owned a store was that you were perfectly free to make use of the merchandise, and so Rinoa had helped herself to several of the books from the back of the room. She would put them back when she was done, but for now, one of them might help.
She was in street clothes today, as there was no one to impress, and she'd replaced the bottle of chianti from the other night with a pinot noir. Rinoa sprawled out on the couch, one of the heavier tomes on her lap, hoping to find something, anything, that might explain what in the world (worlds? universes?) was going on.
(open for housemates or visitors!)
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Date: 2014-03-21 01:31 am (UTC)He suspected that it was in no small part related to the fact that whatever was out there seemed to be causing more chaos, dragging people who had no similarity to the island's existing residents to Fandom now, as well. But after a few hours of focus, he managed to mostly tune it out, and now he was wandering from his room to pretend that he was a social creature for the first time all day.
//Well, you seem comfortable, there. Good evening, Rinoa.//
He couldn't call her Lady Caraway with any measure of seriousness. He couldn't.
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