[visual | location (whichever floats your boat): en route to the birdhouse]

[hasaheart]

Cain is in a foul mood. Why? All will be revealed shortly.

In crisp, curt tones accompanied by a glare so lacking in amusement and good nature he might as well be possessed by an evil witch, Cain addresses the city at large while getting dressed.

"Does anyone know what is goin' on with the weather? And please, no smart-ass comments, I'm not in the fuckin' mood."

Wintertime means snow means cold weather means his entire body aches like it's stuck in a vise and someone keeps cranking up the pressure.

Not. Funny.

-
To Paul:

"I need to get stuff secured up top in case a storm's comin'. I'm heading over."




((Backdated to yesterday morning, for IC reasons. Cain has a green house project in progress what needs covering up because of the goddamned weather. <3<3<3))

Comments

[ visual ]

[cametolife]

"Since October? Wow, that's almost a full year."

Maybe it wasn't much in comparison to others, but a year was still a long time. Especially to Liz Parker. A year was a whole grade of schooling. An age you'd never get back. Time gone that can't be replaced. A lot could happen in a year, but it could also go by very quickly. Idly, she wondered if she'd end up stuck here for that long.

"It's different," she says. "Roswell's pretty much hot year round, so I'm not really used to the cold."