ᴙ 08 [Action]

[teenwonder]

[There's no reason to celebrate birthdays in a place like Luceti. It's just another indicator that something's gone terribly wrong and there's reason to mark another year older that may or may not count if the legends are true and ages revert once people return home. If this is all a virtual reality simulation, then birthdays matter less. The passage of time can't be trusted any more than anything else can. So even though Robin's having a birthday today, he has no intention of acknowledging it.

He'll follow his standard routine instead: After waking up at sunset, he'll prop open the journal and let it play through the audio messages posted through the day while he showers, followed by a review of his other surveillance equipment. He'll take another glance over the responses to that unsettling Joker transmission from yesterday, hoping there'll be an extra clue or bit of evidence that will lead them closer to finding him. Barring any leads or suspicious activities, he'll shadow that Artemis girl for a while, mostly because she seems entirely okay and that's reason enough to suspect her.

Is your character a nocturnal sort? He or she might encounter a Robin on a rooftop. Or perhaps elsewhere. He might not be available to those seeking him, but that won't stop him from finding others. What kind of nighttime activity is occupying Luceti tonight? Loitering around the fountain? Clandestine nighttime transactions? The odd damsel in need of a late-night escort? Robin's hoping to find at least some action tonight.]

Comments

[greenjacketed]

[ darkness is no excuse for shoddy shooting. sharpe is out behind the barracks, where he's lined up a series of shielded lanterns at the forest's edge. with their glow so muffled, they are only dim presences among the shadows. and, still, the rifleman crouches a fair two hundred (maybe two-fifty) paces away. he draws back the heavy hammer and raises the gun to his shoulder, carefully training one lantern in the rifle's stubby foresight.

the barrel barks a cracking report, higher-pitched than a musket's cough. smoke wreathes sharpe's head but even still he watches the lantern explode in a miniature ball of lamp oil and flame. he smiles. and he understands that his night-time shooting will likely bring attention down on him, but he doesn't mind. he's doing nothing wrong. ]

[teenwonder]

[The shooting does indeed draw attention, though Robin's familiar enough with Sharpe's methods and habits that it's not exactly cause for alarm. Robin's not fool enough to interrupt a man with a loaded gun though, so he'll wait until the soldier breaks to reload before breaking the silence.]

It's not past your bedtime, Major?

[greenjacketed]

[ his fingers know the routine; he could reload a rifle while blindfolded. but...

he glances up from his task. ] Not sure I have one of those, lad. [ sharpe pushes onto his feet, the rifle falling harmlessly to his side. his fingers only loosely grip the stock. ] You, on the other hand...