blowfishabq (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blowfishabq) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
high_seas2014-09-10 11:42 am
blowfishabq) wrote in high_seas2014-09-10 11:42 am
Entry tags:
Log 1- Help! (I need somebody!)
Who: Jesse and YOUR FACE HERE
Where: Isla Empieza, Market
When: September 10, afternoon
What: A man with a mission- a mission for information, and possibly some food. And a boat.
Warnings: Just cursing. Probably a lot of it.
Style: Starting prose, whatever you're comfortable with.
Status: OPEN
Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets, heading down the aisles of the marketplace and trying not to smell the air too much. Even if he had discovered some money in his pockets after he'd shed a few layers- it was humid here, he wasn't used to humid- they were gonna have to get off this island at some point, and that meant transportation, right? He couldn't spend all his money on that absolutely fantastic-looking meat on a stick in that booth, Mr. White would probably put him on a stick and sell him.
They'd decided to split up and look for information on this place, but his plan had less to do with looking for stuff to read and libraries and Indiana Jones-ing it and more to do with finding the first friendly face and seeing what he could get out of them. Maybe they'd even have a cigarette. He was starting to get seriously cranky.
Where: Isla Empieza, Market
When: September 10, afternoon
What: A man with a mission- a mission for information, and possibly some food. And a boat.
Warnings: Just cursing. Probably a lot of it.
Style: Starting prose, whatever you're comfortable with.
Status: OPEN
Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets, heading down the aisles of the marketplace and trying not to smell the air too much. Even if he had discovered some money in his pockets after he'd shed a few layers- it was humid here, he wasn't used to humid- they were gonna have to get off this island at some point, and that meant transportation, right? He couldn't spend all his money on that absolutely fantastic-looking meat on a stick in that booth, Mr. White would probably put him on a stick and sell him.
They'd decided to split up and look for information on this place, but his plan had less to do with looking for stuff to read and libraries and Indiana Jones-ing it and more to do with finding the first friendly face and seeing what he could get out of them. Maybe they'd even have a cigarette. He was starting to get seriously cranky.