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Post by QUETZALCOATL on Jul 12, 2010 20:55:31 GMT -5
The day was dull. Dull, drab, quiet, and gray. Perfect for the tastes of someone who just wished sit down and read for a long, relaxing moment. Wide hands glissaded down the hard cover of a book, tapping against the cardboard backing in some lost reverie. Dull, unfocused eyes stared ahead from his seat in front of the quaint bookshop, and a lame sigh was expelled from Tzal’s lips. Carmine orbs fell to the pages and their neat scrawl before he was, once again, devoured by the jowls of concentration.
It was a woman, this time. The dainty thing; she trembled on the floor like a crumpled porcelain doll, waiting, counting the moments until she was finally shattered. She wept, and shook, and shivered and mumbled. She muttered incoherent ululations; undoubtedly the explanations and words saturated, dripping, in trepidation, all in the attempt to help ease the fear and pain that rushed through her system.
He stopped and raised his eyes.
Strange. Why did they never describe those scenes in the good books? The book shut with a gentle tap, the title of "The Picture of Dorian Gray" now showing. Poor Sybil, the unfortunate moll.Tzal’s legs stretched out before him. He was sitting in a wooden chair, one which allowed for his lack of proper posture to revel in what it already was. He sunk into the seat if only a little more, allowing his eyes to droop to a half-closed state. Today was such a long day. Quetzalcoatl was not about to check the time, either. Time would pass with and without permission of individual sources, and thus he let it be. Why bother with something tedious that you had no control over? He was filled to the brim with ennui, but he was content with watching the world pass by him. The torpid thrum of everyday life rung congenially in his ears, making him smile if only minimally.
“Come one, come all, to Wonderland.” His tongue clipped and hissed, hostility brimming his diction from past instinct, though his body language exuded everything but.
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