quicktoanger: (Ow)
[Action]

Well, sure, I was just sitting on the roof. I mean, hey, it was a bit chilly, but I'm used to that. And I wasn't sure where I was, but hell, that's hardly any change.

The fact that I couldn't figure out how to get down was entirely irrelevant. I assure you. So there I sat, on the roof, scribbling in my journal.

The wings, it seems, didn't come off. Damn near fell off the roof figuring that out. They still throbbed.

The journal was an interesting thing, actually. It had my name on it. Apparently it updated to represent the journals other people used? I'd tried to look at it through the Sight. Luckily, the freezing cold was doing wonders staving off that headache.

I looked over the side again. Considered trying to climb. But, well, it was a rather tall building, and there weren't many handholds within reach. No. No, better to find some other method. So I'll just keep writing in that journal.

[Written]

Hey. Don't know if there's some sort of etiquette to this... journal thing, or whatever it's called, but I have a question.

Where the hell am I, why do I have wings, and how did I get on top of this building without any clothing?

I don't think I was that drunk last night...

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