09-08-2008, 01:20 PM
[html]mall-caps;color:#880000;font-family:verdana;font-size:10px;">seven for a secret, never to be told
He was growing steadily bored with the constant rainfall. The non-stop feeling of dampness in his hair and coolness touching his skin. He had found a coat in the city, a black trenchcoat styled in a pseudo-victorian manner, with silver buckles and clinched at the waist. At his waist gently bumping against his hip was his bag filled with "tools"—devices and such that had filled his fancy. Scalpels and knives that tore through the flesh so beautifully, parting skin with effortless ease. He loved to see what was inside creatures. To see their still beating hearts grow still before his eyes and lungs draw their last breath. He held a scalpel in one hand, the blade resting between his lips as he entered the building, slowly allowing his eyes to adjust to the contrast in light.
There was a woman sitting at the bar, bottle in hand and looking as though she'd like to drown herself in it. He smiled elegantly, sliding onto a stool beside her and drawing a bottle of wine toward himself with a single motion, scalpel slid discretely into the pocket of his coat. "A lovely day to drown yourself," he said lightly, filling a glass with the crimson liquid of his choice. Eyes the shade of blood turned back toward the woman, smiling as he raised the glass to his lips and sipped at the burning drink. It warmed him even as it dripped down his throat, another sip drawn with the same unwavering half-smile.[/html]
He was growing steadily bored with the constant rainfall. The non-stop feeling of dampness in his hair and coolness touching his skin. He had found a coat in the city, a black trenchcoat styled in a pseudo-victorian manner, with silver buckles and clinched at the waist. At his waist gently bumping against his hip was his bag filled with "tools"—devices and such that had filled his fancy. Scalpels and knives that tore through the flesh so beautifully, parting skin with effortless ease. He loved to see what was inside creatures. To see their still beating hearts grow still before his eyes and lungs draw their last breath. He held a scalpel in one hand, the blade resting between his lips as he entered the building, slowly allowing his eyes to adjust to the contrast in light.
There was a woman sitting at the bar, bottle in hand and looking as though she'd like to drown herself in it. He smiled elegantly, sliding onto a stool beside her and drawing a bottle of wine toward himself with a single motion, scalpel slid discretely into the pocket of his coat. "A lovely day to drown yourself," he said lightly, filling a glass with the crimson liquid of his choice. Eyes the shade of blood turned back toward the woman, smiling as he raised the glass to his lips and sipped at the burning drink. It warmed him even as it dripped down his throat, another sip drawn with the same unwavering half-smile.[/html]