Tourniquet sat on the couch, feet propped up on the table. He loved his quarters.
It was all white.
The walls, the carpet, the flooring, the chairs, the tables, the lamps - even the lighting was almost void of color. What wasn't white was a pale silver metal, either accenting some part of the furniture or making up some part of it. The only other color was the hilts of the knives in the couple display cases and the one or two slugthrowers leaned up against one corner. All the furniture was stylish and trendy - when you've been a physician for a few years you can afford to keep up with the times - while being comfortable.
Just because you're a Dark Jedi doesn't mean you can't have some creature comforts.
Besides, a man's allowed his quirks. He thought with a grin. Himself? He wore all black - he looked best in that. Very comfortable, baggy pants, no shoes, sleeveless shirt. His dark glasses were hanging lazily on his collar - when he had to look at things closely, like to read, his eyes were beginning to fail him. Fortunately, he'd made sure his glasses were just as stylish as everything else. In this case, they were close at hand because he wanted to get a good look at his temporary apprentice.
What's his name? Drake? Deaver? Eh, I suppose he'll tell me once he gets here.
In the meantime, Tourniquet pulled out a cigarra with his tentacle arm - his real arms felt very comfortable draped over the back of the couch - and stuck it in his mouth. He then reached for his lightsaber, it was lying on an endtable next to the couch - and used it to light the cigarra.
Yeah. That's about all he used it for.
Oh, well.
He put it back as he pulled out the cigarra and puffed out some smoke, waiting for his new apprentice.
Hm, let's see, how does one make a necessary evil fun? He thought. After all, teaching someone was horribly boring. However, he was sure he would think of something to make it somewhat bearable.
It was all white.
The walls, the carpet, the flooring, the chairs, the tables, the lamps - even the lighting was almost void of color. What wasn't white was a pale silver metal, either accenting some part of the furniture or making up some part of it. The only other color was the hilts of the knives in the couple display cases and the one or two slugthrowers leaned up against one corner. All the furniture was stylish and trendy - when you've been a physician for a few years you can afford to keep up with the times - while being comfortable.
Just because you're a Dark Jedi doesn't mean you can't have some creature comforts.
Besides, a man's allowed his quirks. He thought with a grin. Himself? He wore all black - he looked best in that. Very comfortable, baggy pants, no shoes, sleeveless shirt. His dark glasses were hanging lazily on his collar - when he had to look at things closely, like to read, his eyes were beginning to fail him. Fortunately, he'd made sure his glasses were just as stylish as everything else. In this case, they were close at hand because he wanted to get a good look at his temporary apprentice.
What's his name? Drake? Deaver? Eh, I suppose he'll tell me once he gets here.
In the meantime, Tourniquet pulled out a cigarra with his tentacle arm - his real arms felt very comfortable draped over the back of the couch - and stuck it in his mouth. He then reached for his lightsaber, it was lying on an endtable next to the couch - and used it to light the cigarra.
Yeah. That's about all he used it for.
Oh, well.
He put it back as he pulled out the cigarra and puffed out some smoke, waiting for his new apprentice.
Hm, let's see, how does one make a necessary evil fun? He thought. After all, teaching someone was horribly boring. However, he was sure he would think of something to make it somewhat bearable.
