[Unlike certain know-it-all chocobo-enthusiasts, Santa had been sleeping when this shit had gone down. He wakes up shivering on a cold floor, dressed only in a pair of black boxers, a white tank top, and his beloved black arm-warmers. He pushes himself up, hissing as rough stone floor sucks the warmth out of his bare feet.]
What the fuck?
[It's not that life hasn't prepared him for this moment. He's pretty sure of what he's gonna have to do, and it's not like it's coming at him out of the blue. He had always half-expected the Nonary Games to come back to haunt him. But that doesn't mean he's not allowed to be PISSED.]
[After a few moments of cathartic swearing, he finally loses a little steam and starts preparing himself to get this shit done.]
no subject
What the fuck?
[It's not that life hasn't prepared him for this moment. He's pretty sure of what he's gonna have to do, and it's not like it's coming at him out of the blue. He had always half-expected the Nonary Games to come back to haunt him. But that doesn't mean he's not allowed to be PISSED.]
[After a few moments of cathartic swearing, he finally loses a little steam and starts preparing himself to get this shit done.]