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Who: David Long and OPEN
What: A new arrival to Baedal is attempting to get his bearings... looking like he just stepped out of a history book.
Where: just outside the Valhalla Inn
When: Mid-afternoon
Notes: Poor, poor man will be suffering from extreme culture shock throughout almost every second of every thread.
Warnings: Mild swearing. Will edit if anything else comes up.
Even the most unobservant person could likely tell that David Long was far from home, unhappy about it, and very confused. He stands outside the Valhalla Inn -- a very pagan name suiting the very pagan place he found himself now in -- desperate for a breath of fresh air.
He doesn't understand how he got here, but he is slightly annoyed by the condition he is in. His arm is wholly healed by now, thankfully, but he had been at work overseeing the application of a fresh coat of paint to Revelation. So, rather than white wool breeches with brass buttons, he has cloth trousers with pewter buttons. His white linen shirt is clean, at least, as is his white, light wool waistcoat. Of course, it's the one with pewter buttons, too. The uniform has brass buttons, but every officer's always does. It bothers him less that it's his undress. It is still very respectable. His black neckcloth has been set to right since his arrival, and the black ribbon that starts at the base of his skull and wraps his hair into a tight queue down his back ends at his shoulder-blades with two inches of hair left loose. That hair and what is visible on his head is dark brown and curly, with a slight red tint to it in the light.
Still, wherever he is, David has promised himself he will give no cause for shame to any brother officers who may be here.
He stands, dark eyes casting in one direction then the other. he holds the pamphlet in one hand, his... device? as it was called... in the other. the money he was given when let out of his room is safely in his waistcoat pocket. That gives him some sense of security, but it does not help his most pressing question:
What now?