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NewYork Org Tower - Xaldin - Open
He has an office, of sorts, in the building. It is rimmed in windows, high up in the tower, and the windows are often open; causing high-speed winds to scream through fairly regularly. He doesn't have a chair, preferring to float above the floor crossed-legged as he works at the desk. Small notes, fastened with glue, or tape, or post-Solution variations on the same cover every available surface. They range from finish the Slug report to DID YOU EAT TODAY? in a variety of handwritings, including his own.
The door is always open if he is in there. Xaldin has developed a claustrophobia that must be experienced to believe. They do call air that doesn't move dead air, after all, and for all that he hurts and hates, he is not yet ready to die.
He was settled behind his desk, writing last thoughts on the Shibuya slug incident in a fine, beautiful hand that used paper as efficiently as possible. Mouseasaurous Rex, the small kitten he has most lately been carrying, played on the ground with a string of ribbon left by someone at some time.
The door is always open if he is in there. Xaldin has developed a claustrophobia that must be experienced to believe. They do call air that doesn't move dead air, after all, and for all that he hurts and hates, he is not yet ready to die.
He was settled behind his desk, writing last thoughts on the Shibuya slug incident in a fine, beautiful hand that used paper as efficiently as possible. Mouseasaurous Rex, the small kitten he has most lately been carrying, played on the ground with a string of ribbon left by someone at some time.