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02-02-2015, 08:30 PM
MIDAS
THE POISONED YOUTH
THE POISONED YOUTH
Men would never understand the befuddlement which was the opposite species. Women...Earth have mercy.
She seemed neither pleased or displeased with my appearance; I would've expected the Mason to be grateful for whatever aid was offered -- but yar, tis well known women bore a strange alteration of logic. My attention wavers to the mountain, the cracking and crumbling of inner stones. Just as enough debris has tumbled to the dirt for me to carry off, Elsa pauses, my name on her lips.
Gilden gems, alive and warm rise curiously. She poses a rather...intriguing question that sits hesitantly between us. The pale lady might find my manner unusual -- but it was habit rearing from equally mannered parents to treat even close friends the same as enemies. Respectfully. Elsa was prying into a container, one she would find lay empty once the lid was removed. I find myself wanting to chuckle, yar, the only thing holding me from it is the serious expression on her face...giving me reason to believe that this wasn't a jest.
With my flesh still warm from work I attempt to maintain a small smile, "Aye, wrath is saved for moments of true need." Say true, such as when Seele died -- slight beam falters to the wayside, disappearing beneath a heavy cloud that veils my mind with such a thickness that I'm withholding a sigh. Grief, those inky talons still had some hold on me. "What stirs ye to ask?"
She seemed neither pleased or displeased with my appearance; I would've expected the Mason to be grateful for whatever aid was offered -- but yar, tis well known women bore a strange alteration of logic. My attention wavers to the mountain, the cracking and crumbling of inner stones. Just as enough debris has tumbled to the dirt for me to carry off, Elsa pauses, my name on her lips.
Gilden gems, alive and warm rise curiously. She poses a rather...intriguing question that sits hesitantly between us. The pale lady might find my manner unusual -- but it was habit rearing from equally mannered parents to treat even close friends the same as enemies. Respectfully. Elsa was prying into a container, one she would find lay empty once the lid was removed. I find myself wanting to chuckle, yar, the only thing holding me from it is the serious expression on her face...giving me reason to believe that this wasn't a jest.
With my flesh still warm from work I attempt to maintain a small smile, "Aye, wrath is saved for moments of true need." Say true, such as when Seele died -- slight beam falters to the wayside, disappearing beneath a heavy cloud that veils my mind with such a thickness that I'm withholding a sigh. Grief, those inky talons still had some hold on me. "What stirs ye to ask?"
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