[center][color=aba000]Orlan Price - Beacon Academy Courtyard - Monday Morning[/color]
[@Thundercrash][/center]

Orlan eventually replaced the sketchbook in his pocket, pushing himself to his feet with a deep sigh. He certainly didn't want to put forth the effort to force an interaction with someone, and nobody looked interested in meeting him anyway. [i][color=aba000]I'll just grab my bag and find someplace a little more out of the way, I think...[/color][/i]

He had only just slung said bag, containing only one change of clothes, his toolbag, and a few small personal items, over his shoulder before an impact from behind caused him to shuffle forward a step. Hand unconciously going to his hip above Axios, Orlan turned to regard the offending stranger. Mild confusion lit his face for a moment as his gaze fell on the girl backing away from him and her excess of clothing.

[color=aba000]"The fault is not wholly yours, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going either,"[/color] Orlan finally says after a long pause and brief shrug, his hand falling away from his weapon. [color=aba000]"Are you... cold?"[/color] he then asks, that being the only conclusion he can come up with for such attire.