When Sherral opens the door, he's dressed in the more dressed-down version of his fatigues: Barefoot, with rough-spun woollen trousers and a form-fitting grey t-shirt.
He also has slightly glittery blue-silver dust in his hair.
"Beer, excellent," he says wryly. "I could use a break. Come on in," he eases himself to one side to let Jay by.
Sherral's room is fairly spartan - there's a desk; a few books here and there; a dress uniform hung up with a few medals sitting on a table near it; a desk that currently is covered with maps; and a workdesk that has something covered in cloth and a lot of the same blue-silver dust on it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-01-29 11:53 pm (UTC)He also has slightly glittery blue-silver dust in his hair.
"Beer, excellent," he says wryly. "I could use a break. Come on in," he eases himself to one side to let Jay by.
Sherral's room is fairly spartan - there's a desk; a few books here and there; a dress uniform hung up with a few medals sitting on a table near it; a desk that currently is covered with maps; and a workdesk that has something covered in cloth and a lot of the same blue-silver dust on it.