Post by w0lverine123 on May 12, 2009 21:18:01 GMT
Country: Britain
Time: 14:49 (almost 3 PM)
Weather: Cloudy
A blanket of clouds filled the air above Zack, pure white clouds that hid the sky's blue radiance and the sun's golden rays. Although, even through their prison underneath a veil of clouds, the rays of the sun refused to give up, poking through here and there to create a dazzling effect. That is, if Zack had been looking at the sky. There was no danger of it raining; the broadcast was cloudy all day, with not even the smallest mention of rain. Besides, the clouds were white and fluffy, not black and ragged.
Anyways, Zack was back in England, and business to attend to that didn't involve the weather, such as dropping in for a visit with the local tailor. The front lines had left the staff sergeant's simple cloth shirt worn and torn under the strain of rushing and the stress of expecting a full scale battle at any moment. When Zack had set out to serve in the British military, his Lee Enfield standard issue rifle had been shiny and, well, new looking. Now it had scratches, most light and hardly noticeable but a select few were jagged, deep, and ugly. Grime encrusted it from the long days of not being cleaned. Zack hadn't time enough to care for his weapons, which were now in need of repair. Both his rifle an knife had signs of rust. The knife still had some canned beans from one night's dinner dried on the blade. Even his pants and shoes were in need of some love.
Zack didn't know what to expect of the local tailor; after more than a year away, not only could he barely find his way around, but he had no home except for rooms at various inns around the great island called Britain, mostly in England but one in Wales. So he didn't know very many people, which in turn meant nobody knew Zack de Caldicot, staff sergeant of the second World War, as anything but a very scruffy looking man with a small bag of luggage and a gun. So he didn't know whether the man he was seeking would help him, or turn him away.
But still, Zack was surprised to see a short, chubby man off in the corner of the tailor's shop, sitting at a desk in the far corner, using a rusty knife, with a suspiciously maroon color crusted onto the edge, to pick his fingernails. He didn't even look up at Zack when the little bell rang, as if he didn't want customers. By the looks of him, he didn't want anything.
“Um, hello, sir?” Zack asked, relieved when the man looked up to reveal a jolly face, with round features and a cheerful smile on his face.
“Oh, a customer! I'm so sorry, good sir, I must not have heard you come in!” the man tossed the knife away, grinning widely as he trotted up to Zack's side. “I can see why you came in! Those clothes need some sewing up! Anyways, I won't intrude on your business. So, what do you need so I can fix it up and send you on your way?”
He obviously doesn't get much company around here, Zack thought. But he said, “I'd like to have some new clothes, simple and cheap like these, but clean.”
After a few decisions were made and written down, the jolly little man with the round face measured Zack very carefully with his measuring tape and marked down the numbers. Then, he informed Zack that it would be about an hour before the clothes were ready, and that the young soldier was welcome to stay until they were ready. So Zack took a seat and lit a cigarette (after the guy running the store said he could). It could be a bit of a wait.
Time: 14:49 (almost 3 PM)
Weather: Cloudy
A blanket of clouds filled the air above Zack, pure white clouds that hid the sky's blue radiance and the sun's golden rays. Although, even through their prison underneath a veil of clouds, the rays of the sun refused to give up, poking through here and there to create a dazzling effect. That is, if Zack had been looking at the sky. There was no danger of it raining; the broadcast was cloudy all day, with not even the smallest mention of rain. Besides, the clouds were white and fluffy, not black and ragged.
Anyways, Zack was back in England, and business to attend to that didn't involve the weather, such as dropping in for a visit with the local tailor. The front lines had left the staff sergeant's simple cloth shirt worn and torn under the strain of rushing and the stress of expecting a full scale battle at any moment. When Zack had set out to serve in the British military, his Lee Enfield standard issue rifle had been shiny and, well, new looking. Now it had scratches, most light and hardly noticeable but a select few were jagged, deep, and ugly. Grime encrusted it from the long days of not being cleaned. Zack hadn't time enough to care for his weapons, which were now in need of repair. Both his rifle an knife had signs of rust. The knife still had some canned beans from one night's dinner dried on the blade. Even his pants and shoes were in need of some love.
Zack didn't know what to expect of the local tailor; after more than a year away, not only could he barely find his way around, but he had no home except for rooms at various inns around the great island called Britain, mostly in England but one in Wales. So he didn't know very many people, which in turn meant nobody knew Zack de Caldicot, staff sergeant of the second World War, as anything but a very scruffy looking man with a small bag of luggage and a gun. So he didn't know whether the man he was seeking would help him, or turn him away.
But still, Zack was surprised to see a short, chubby man off in the corner of the tailor's shop, sitting at a desk in the far corner, using a rusty knife, with a suspiciously maroon color crusted onto the edge, to pick his fingernails. He didn't even look up at Zack when the little bell rang, as if he didn't want customers. By the looks of him, he didn't want anything.
“Um, hello, sir?” Zack asked, relieved when the man looked up to reveal a jolly face, with round features and a cheerful smile on his face.
“Oh, a customer! I'm so sorry, good sir, I must not have heard you come in!” the man tossed the knife away, grinning widely as he trotted up to Zack's side. “I can see why you came in! Those clothes need some sewing up! Anyways, I won't intrude on your business. So, what do you need so I can fix it up and send you on your way?”
He obviously doesn't get much company around here, Zack thought. But he said, “I'd like to have some new clothes, simple and cheap like these, but clean.”
After a few decisions were made and written down, the jolly little man with the round face measured Zack very carefully with his measuring tape and marked down the numbers. Then, he informed Zack that it would be about an hour before the clothes were ready, and that the young soldier was welcome to stay until they were ready. So Zack took a seat and lit a cigarette (after the guy running the store said he could). It could be a bit of a wait.
