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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Dirigible" data-source="post: 1207782" data-attributes="member: 12631">MarksmanLucian swaggers up to his rooms, and sets his man Clydely to packing his tote bag. Meanwhile, he stepped into the dressing room and opened his clean, pressed 'costume'. He slid on the grey undershirt with the crosshairs symbol, and then the stylish, fur-necked jacket. Turning, he admired himself in the full length mirror. "Thank gawd I don't have to wear fatigues," he muttered with a curl of the lip. When he saw this expression on his face in the mirror, he paused and carefully observed it, watching the effect and storing it away for future reference.Stepping out, he took his tote bag from the pantiently waiting manservant, and instructed "Do have the car brought around front, Clydely". As his man glided out, Lucian went to see Bessie. Ahh, she was beautiful, from polished-walnut butt to gleaming blue steel, a work of art. Lucian picked her up reverently, checking her mechanisms with practised fingers. He lowered the rifle into it's carry case; she would not suffer the indignity of being slung over someone's shoulder like a common M1.With the case under his arm, Lucian made his way to the stairs down to the main hall. As he passed, he paused, glancig at his father's door. Everything that needed to be said had been said last night, and perhaps a little more. The prospect of absense lubricated the tongue in a sometimes uncomfortable way.Then he passed Bethany's door. Though his heart ached to go in and see her once more, everything he needed to say, though not perhaps waht he wanted to say had been said. He didn't think he could take the tears a second time. Slightly subdued now, he passed his bag to Clydely and slipped into the back seat of the car. It hurt that he would not be able to see his dear fiance one last time.</blockquote>

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