((This is Cicero from the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim... Hopefully people will recognize him 
))
Dark. Gray, gray. Cicero is sick of the rain! Pitter-patter singing to lonely Cicero is not pleasant! No, not at all!
The jester looked out from his shelter underneath the trees, pressing his chin in his palm as he watched the rain steadily drizzle. Usually he would squeal in laughter and dance in the storm, but it had been raining for so long, and so many days! Cicero had hoped to run across someone in the road, to either brawl with or just sing merry tunes with, but nobody had come. Not that he enjoyed meeting new people very much. Whenever one would meet him, they'd come and go. It was quite pathetic, but Cicero would never admit it aloud or to himself.
He let out a forlorn sigh as his stomach grumbled. He stood up, and decided to walk out into the steady shower. He had heard of a small village near here, so maybe he could go get something to eat. Beads of water lined up on strands of his ginger hair, and it was Cicero's turn to mumble. He just hated the feeling of wet hair plastered against his forehead, and it stuck to his shoulders like glue. He released a whiny groan, and grumpily began to tramp in the mud.
As soon as Cicero reached the village, he darted into a door that was held open instantly. He didn't stop to check what it was he had run into, but he realized as soon as he came in. It was a bar. Cicero just stood there. He wasn't used to being around new people, and this bar was full of... people. Ish... He had no idea what to do, so he just waited, hoping for a sign...
))Dark. Gray, gray. Cicero is sick of the rain! Pitter-patter singing to lonely Cicero is not pleasant! No, not at all!
The jester looked out from his shelter underneath the trees, pressing his chin in his palm as he watched the rain steadily drizzle. Usually he would squeal in laughter and dance in the storm, but it had been raining for so long, and so many days! Cicero had hoped to run across someone in the road, to either brawl with or just sing merry tunes with, but nobody had come. Not that he enjoyed meeting new people very much. Whenever one would meet him, they'd come and go. It was quite pathetic, but Cicero would never admit it aloud or to himself.
He let out a forlorn sigh as his stomach grumbled. He stood up, and decided to walk out into the steady shower. He had heard of a small village near here, so maybe he could go get something to eat. Beads of water lined up on strands of his ginger hair, and it was Cicero's turn to mumble. He just hated the feeling of wet hair plastered against his forehead, and it stuck to his shoulders like glue. He released a whiny groan, and grumpily began to tramp in the mud.
As soon as Cicero reached the village, he darted into a door that was held open instantly. He didn't stop to check what it was he had run into, but he realized as soon as he came in. It was a bar. Cicero just stood there. He wasn't used to being around new people, and this bar was full of... people. Ish...
He had no idea what to do, so he just waited, hoping for a sign...
