Robb Killian
Character
OOC NOTE: (I apologize for the long post but I figured I would set the scene, I also need the practice
).
Robb started awake with a twitch, and was surprised to find himself on the floor beside his bunk instead of in it, could've sworn I was falling... . With a groan he clawed his way back into his bunk, and tried to fall back asleep.
He tossed, and turned, and tossed some more, yet sleep would not return. He counted nerfs only to give up after twenty, never works. He tired replaying an old fight in his head and only frustrated himself more for picking one he had lost. As a last resort he pulled the book he had been reading from the netting above his bunk, only making it through a page before switching it off and stowing back in its place.
I guess it's time to start the day. Robb threw the covers aside and dragged himself to feet, and stretched.
It was quiet aboard the Lost Cause that night, and Robb still couldn't sleep. They had arrived on Tatooine late the night before, landing on a pad not far from Mos Entha, and all a day ahead of schedule. The crew had voted to take a personal day, deciding they could use a breather after weeks on the job, and Robb was anxious to get his boots back on the ground.
His bare feet padded softly against the deck as he stepped to the other end of his small cabin to retrieve some clothes, picking out his tan fatigues, the only extra piece of clothing he owned outside of his usual attire, purchased specifically for desert worlds.
Setting his trousers down on the small desk in the corner, Robb began his morning fitness routine: First he did push-ups until he could no longer hold himself up, not as long as I'd like. Next he did sit ups until he could no longer rise, not as many as I'd like. Finally he did cross jumps until he was sweating so hard the fabric of his small shorts clung to his thigh just above the knee. Satisfied that his workout was complete, he grabbed his towel from where it hung on the wall and wrapped it around himself before stalking out from his cabin to the shower in the "fresher".
After a brief shower he toweled off the best of his ability, deposited the wet towel in the small cleansing receptacle while retrieving his freshly dried shorts. With that he donned his shorts and returned hastily to his room, trying hard not to disturb the rest of the crew, wherever they were.
Once Robb was back in his room he dressed in his fatigues, pulled his (supposedly) sweat resistant shirt over his head, and laced up his boots.
With his morning rituals complete, and all ahead of schedule no less, he went straight for the "mess" to fix himself some grub, hoping all the while that this day off would prove to be a nice vacation.
[member="Kohai Drenn"] , [member="Davik Tren"] , [member="Corvetta Salvo"]
Robb started awake with a twitch, and was surprised to find himself on the floor beside his bunk instead of in it, could've sworn I was falling... . With a groan he clawed his way back into his bunk, and tried to fall back asleep.
He tossed, and turned, and tossed some more, yet sleep would not return. He counted nerfs only to give up after twenty, never works. He tired replaying an old fight in his head and only frustrated himself more for picking one he had lost. As a last resort he pulled the book he had been reading from the netting above his bunk, only making it through a page before switching it off and stowing back in its place.
I guess it's time to start the day. Robb threw the covers aside and dragged himself to feet, and stretched.
It was quiet aboard the Lost Cause that night, and Robb still couldn't sleep. They had arrived on Tatooine late the night before, landing on a pad not far from Mos Entha, and all a day ahead of schedule. The crew had voted to take a personal day, deciding they could use a breather after weeks on the job, and Robb was anxious to get his boots back on the ground.
His bare feet padded softly against the deck as he stepped to the other end of his small cabin to retrieve some clothes, picking out his tan fatigues, the only extra piece of clothing he owned outside of his usual attire, purchased specifically for desert worlds.
Setting his trousers down on the small desk in the corner, Robb began his morning fitness routine: First he did push-ups until he could no longer hold himself up, not as long as I'd like. Next he did sit ups until he could no longer rise, not as many as I'd like. Finally he did cross jumps until he was sweating so hard the fabric of his small shorts clung to his thigh just above the knee. Satisfied that his workout was complete, he grabbed his towel from where it hung on the wall and wrapped it around himself before stalking out from his cabin to the shower in the "fresher".
After a brief shower he toweled off the best of his ability, deposited the wet towel in the small cleansing receptacle while retrieving his freshly dried shorts. With that he donned his shorts and returned hastily to his room, trying hard not to disturb the rest of the crew, wherever they were.
Once Robb was back in his room he dressed in his fatigues, pulled his (supposedly) sweat resistant shirt over his head, and laced up his boots.
With his morning rituals complete, and all ahead of schedule no less, he went straight for the "mess" to fix himself some grub, hoping all the while that this day off would prove to be a nice vacation.
[member="Kohai Drenn"] , [member="Davik Tren"] , [member="Corvetta Salvo"]