horace - jupiter - seventeen
everything was neat and tidy, however his bed wasn't done at all. it was ruffled. his pillow was on the floor. his nightstand held two pictures of his mum, one of him, her, and her serval cat jimmy, and one of her alone. horace keeps any rings, or spare daggers in a drawer beneath his bed. his clothes are neatly piled up in his drawer.
horace leans on his bedpost as he watches the others get dressed. his purple camp shirt was fresh and smells of washing machines and febreze. his hair was gelled, and like usual; cut short and perfectly done. his jeans were the pair he had worn yesterday, so they were slightly dirty. there were rips at the knees, but horace liked it that way. he had done up the shoelaces on his black converse neatly and orderly. he looked almost immaculate, like always. a grin was spread out across his handsome face, watching as his friends got ready. he runs a hand through his dark blonde hair, then rummages around in his drawer to get out a bronze rod. he clips presses the small button, and his golden shield spins out. he puts on his spartan helmet with white horsehair plume, slings the shield over his shoulder so it's positioned at his back, and puts his gladius in it's shaft. he gives his friend a light punch in the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "'urry up, slowpoke."
Last edited by jake. on 4/14/2015, 10:56 am; edited 2 times in total