Observation log: 6-20-10, 0700 hours...
Who: Vash (and Valen (and Romano)).
When: Sunday, June 20th. A cool summer morning.
Where: The border between Vash's house heaven and the Vargas house hell.
What: Vash goes about his daily routine (and Valen guards Vash's abode against intruders (and Romano apprehends an intruder on 'his' property)).
There was something about a quiet Sunday morning that stirred a chord in Valentina's heart; the undisturbed dew on the grass, the warm sunlight on the back of her neck, the incredibly attractive Europeans who pruned their rosebushes in skimpy, pink nightgowns. She had been a little bewildered when she had first seen it, of course, and heartbroken, because if Mr. Zwingli was a joto then that would mean she but now she could clearly see that this was how real Europeans dressed, and for good reason, too.
Mr. Zwingli worked that color.
Her yellow notepad, designated specifically for observation notes such as these, was already half-filled with her tidy scrawl describing all of Mr. Zwingli's morning's activities thus far:
0700 Mr. Zwingli wake up.
0710 Mr. Zwingli make breakfast. Have hot chocolate and toast.
0730 Mr. Zwingli feed goats.
0740 Mr. Zwingli clean pen of goats.
Now, Mr. Zwingli was tending to his lovely garden. Every great man had a secret talent, and it seemed that his was his green thumb. Ah, if only she were a rose, to be tended to by that gentle hand- No. She was not jealous of plants. She had a job to do.
Valentina tucked her notepad into her back pocket and army-crawled closer through the hedges for a better view. Her jersey and forearms were covered in dirt from laying low all morning, and she was pretty sure that she felt a few twigs poking her in the head, but it was definitely worth it because nothing could compare to being able to view the pure majesty of Mr. Zwingli in his natural habitat.
When: Sunday, June 20th. A cool summer morning.
Where: The border between Vash's house heaven and the Vargas house hell.
What: Vash goes about his daily routine (and Valen guards Vash's abode against intruders (and Romano apprehends an intruder on 'his' property)).
There was something about a quiet Sunday morning that stirred a chord in Valentina's heart; the undisturbed dew on the grass, the warm sunlight on the back of her neck, the incredibly attractive Europeans who pruned their rosebushes in skimpy, pink nightgowns. She had been a little bewildered when she had first seen it, of course, and heartbroken, because if Mr. Zwingli was a joto then that would mean she but now she could clearly see that this was how real Europeans dressed, and for good reason, too.
Mr. Zwingli worked that color.
Her yellow notepad, designated specifically for observation notes such as these, was already half-filled with her tidy scrawl describing all of Mr. Zwingli's morning's activities thus far:
0700 Mr. Zwingli wake up.
0710 Mr. Zwingli make breakfast. Have hot chocolate and toast.
0730 Mr. Zwingli feed goats.
0740 Mr. Zwingli clean pen of goats.
Now, Mr. Zwingli was tending to his lovely garden. Every great man had a secret talent, and it seemed that his was his green thumb. Ah, if only she were a rose, to be tended to by that gentle hand- No. She was not jealous of plants. She had a job to do.
Valentina tucked her notepad into her back pocket and army-crawled closer through the hedges for a better view. Her jersey and forearms were covered in dirt from laying low all morning, and she was pretty sure that she felt a few twigs poking her in the head, but it was definitely worth it because nothing could compare to being able to view the pure majesty of Mr. Zwingli in his natural habitat.