Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Tristan T. Travers (alliterative) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

He didn't know if he were leaving yet or not. He actually hadn't thought this whole thing through, which, he supposed, meant he wasn't leaving just yet. He gave a little shrug and said, "Well, I don't have anything pressing at the moment, so I suppose I'm not leaving yet."

Really, was that so hard? He sighed internally, wondering if this awkward feeling with people he knew when he was younger would ever go away. He hoped so. If not, he didn't know what he'd do with himself. Hole up in Pandora's flat or his parents' house for the rest of his life? No. That wouldn't do. He still didn't know if he was wanted back home. That meant he'd have to hope it'd end. And the only way to do that was to engage properly with people. Well, people who wanted to engage with him. Like Vikesh. He didn't seem against it, so he'd just have to go with it and hope for the best. But he wasn't stupid. He was also prepared for the worst.

Tristan took a step to the side and took his right hand out of his pocket. "After you," he said, motioning to the door. He inclined his head in a slight bow and smiled. His stomach gave a slight flutter of excitement at catching up with an old friend, and he let himself bounce once on the balls of his feet.