[The business back home regarding never showing his face was simply a by-product of his telepathy-blocking plates having been embedded in his full face mask. As he...awoke on the Marsiva without it due to circumstances he thoroughly volunteered for, he isn't complaining. Besides. Jean-Phillipe is well aware he's a very attractive man, he was created to be after all, and literally made to be the charming, debonaire man currently smiling amicably at the comm feed. He's reclining on what must be his bunk bed, from the angle at least, and holding a brandy snifter in one hand, a dark amber liquid bobbing gently against the glass. When he speaks, his accent is French, or nearly Orlesian to all those Thedosians around.]
As infinitely charming as the intra-system World Cup of Yandrolla was, and as intriguing a mystery as this "Drade" is, I have a question for all you...veterans, or...those of tenure. Whatever it is you'd like to call yourselves: are we ever in a system long enough to actually enjoy it? Thus far, we've visited enough of an entire cultural system to write a travel brochure. Are we actually the Atroma's holiday advertisement, or is it their target audience has the collective attention span of a saccharine-addled preschooler?
action | Iskaulit - Library
[It's a blessing, the Iskaulit, and in more ways than one. It gets him away from the small confines of his ship, it gives him something to explore, things to experience, people to meet, something other than processed, food-flavored protein to eat, but also...the library.
Of course, as he's browsing what one can only call shelves in the vaguest of senses, he makes no effort to hide his look of disgust, or to mask the sound of frustration as he pulls yet another copy out of place from a shelf he was browsing.]
No catalog, minimal organization. Who organized these shelves, a half-intoxicated co-ed?
Fantomex | Marvel 616 | OU
[The business back home regarding never showing his face was simply a by-product of his telepathy-blocking plates having been embedded in his full face mask. As he...awoke on the Marsiva without it due to circumstances he thoroughly volunteered for, he isn't complaining. Besides. Jean-Phillipe is well aware he's a very attractive man, he was created to be after all, and literally made to be the charming, debonaire man currently smiling amicably at the comm feed. He's reclining on what must be his bunk bed, from the angle at least, and holding a brandy snifter in one hand, a dark amber liquid bobbing gently against the glass. When he speaks, his accent is French, or nearly Orlesian to all those Thedosians around.]
As infinitely charming as the intra-system World Cup of Yandrolla was, and as intriguing a mystery as this "Drade" is, I have a question for all you...veterans, or...those of tenure. Whatever it is you'd like to call yourselves: are we ever in a system long enough to actually enjoy it? Thus far, we've visited enough of an entire cultural system to write a travel brochure. Are we actually the Atroma's holiday advertisement, or is it their target audience has the collective attention span of a saccharine-addled preschooler?
action | Iskaulit - Library
[It's a blessing, the Iskaulit, and in more ways than one. It gets him away from the small confines of his ship, it gives him something to explore, things to experience, people to meet, something other than processed, food-flavored protein to eat, but also...the library.
Of course, as he's browsing what one can only call shelves in the vaguest of senses, he makes no effort to hide his look of disgust, or to mask the sound of frustration as he pulls yet another copy out of place from a shelf he was browsing.]
No catalog, minimal organization. Who organized these shelves, a half-intoxicated co-ed?