[ In the wake of this month's -- well, in the wake of everything, Claude has chosen to keep a low profile these days. Just wait for things to blow over, he figures, and everything will be fine. It's to that end that he's dressed down in a simple white cotton shirt, hanging open at the neckline, and sturdy brown trousers, blending in with the crowd as he goes about his shopping. There's always more to buy (sometimes it's a wonder he makes any money at all, he thinks), but today? He's looking for some personal items.
Starting off with a good pen. He's sick of all of those flimsy ballpoint pens they're expected to use these days. He wants a proper pen so that he can better note down his thoughts. With a frown, he stands by the sampler section, doodling lines across the provided notepad and going down across the white plastic table beneath it, his etchings joining those of many, many others with an elaborate, curlicued finish.
Little does he know that he's being watched by someone who is suddenly encumbered with less patience for such petty misdemeanors. It's just a table, after all. Who could possibly care? ]
VASH
Starting off with a good pen. He's sick of all of those flimsy ballpoint pens they're expected to use these days. He wants a proper pen so that he can better note down his thoughts. With a frown, he stands by the sampler section, doodling lines across the provided notepad and going down across the white plastic table beneath it, his etchings joining those of many, many others with an elaborate, curlicued finish.
Little does he know that he's being watched by someone who is suddenly encumbered with less patience for such petty misdemeanors. It's just a table, after all. Who could possibly care? ]