
✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘
Thus far, it had been a rather strange sort of day for Gilbert.
It was almost as if he had woken up under a bad star, had gotten out of bed on the wrong side, or had accidentally broken a mirror in his sleep. From the movement golden eyes had blinked open to stare blearily up at the ceiling, the dark haired man had been blanketed with the strangely stifling sensation that things were a little out of whack. He couldn't say what exactly, nor why, but the feelings of paranoia had been impossible to ignore. Maybe, if he had been someone else, he might have brushed it aside as a silly, idle thought and not spared another moment from his day thinking about it. But the sort of life Gilbert Nightray had lived up to that morning had made him aware of one thing, if only one thing: that it is always best to be wary, especially when one's nerves insist upon it. And, as it was, Gil's premonition, if it could be called as such, had served him well. 'Well', as in his feelings of an unusual day before him had been spot on. It had indeed been a strange day, a day only a smidgen away from having been a bad day. The only reason it hadn't been labeled the latter yet was that it was still relatively early in the day; Gilbert didn't want to issue a challenge to the universe by saying things were as bad as they could get. Because they really weren't, considering, and besides, the universe had a habit of rising to such a challenge without fail. So, despite the barrage of bad luck Gil suffered through, the young man stayed mostly silent as to his fate, a twitching eye and a look of irritation for the universe in general the only reaction he allowed as the morning progressed. He maintained this response even when he nearly fell down the stairs leaving his home, even when he missed getting run down by a carriage by the seat of his pants, even when he was forced to run from an oddly affectionate cat that had clearly seen better days, even when he was nearly arrested in a case of mistaken identity, even when a pack of hooligans had attempted to steal his wallet, and even when his hat had been picked up by a particularly strong breeze and deposited into a rather dirty looking river. Well, perhaps he did falter slightly when it came to the situation with the cat; it was difficult to stay furiously stoic when one was retreating in such an alarmed fashion.
So, needless to say, it was almost noon, and Gilbert was not in the best of moods.
"I would say this day can't get any worse..." the dark haired man muttered as he wandered down the worn cobblestone street. "But it can."
Stuck in a pessimistic mood, Gilbert sighed, then lifted a gloved hand to tilt back the brim of his black hat. It was a beautiful day despite the misfortune that he personally had been experiencing; there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and as fate had already shown, there was a nice breeze blowing to keep it from getting too hot. It was a good day to be outside, and the streets were inhabited with shopkeepers, possible patrons of said shopkeepers, and people like Gil, who seemed to have just stepped outside of their doors for an aimless walk. In good company, Gil shoved his hands into his pockets and moved forward through the moderate crowd, his bright eyes scanning those he passed only idly.
Truth be told, it was strange for Gil to be just wandering out by himself without any long term destination in mind. Usually his time was evenly split between spending time with Oz, arguing with Alice, dodging Pandora plans via Sharon and Break, or at the very least making the mandatory appearance at the Nightray manor that was occasionally necessary to remind them that, yes, he was still around. But, as previously stated, it had been a strange sort of day, and the golden eyed man felt almost like taking some time away from the norm would probably be best for the norm's health. It was by no means scientific, but Gil didn't want to show up at his friends' doors already in a bad mood. So instead of focusing on gaining himself company, the man in the hat turned his attention to his stomach. And his stomach was politely informing him that it was lunchtime, and it was very much in need of food. Had he been at home, Gil would have gladly just cooked but, seeing as he wasn't, it was clearly time to visit one of the outdoor food vendors or open air bakeries. There were plenty of options, and the tempting smells that were wafting his way were certainly inviting.
A goal in mind, Gil followed his nose into the crowd, forgetting, for the moment, that the universe was out to get him on this particular day.
✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘
✘ gilbert ✘ nightray ✘
❝ R A V E N ❞