07-21-2009, 01:08 AM
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Gah, work makes me slow, sorry! 
. 233 words.
If the members of Dahlia weren't mean and nasty like Tokyo, then they were blind idiots, accepting her facade as truth. She was so fucking transparent! He shook his head, mistrusting her statement on the good character of some Dahlians. The only ones that were worth anything were the kids - they didn't have too much of a choice, really. Even his sister couldn't be truly forgiven; as much as he wanted to rescue Princess, it was as much from herself as from Tokyo. "My mother - Tokyo Chance." Simply put, but a brief explanation followed: "But I'm safe here, she's not allowed on Crimson Dreams territory."
Flayra queried about his name, and his mind flitted back to his recent encounter with Mati, who had said he didn't look much like a god of war. It had been teasing in nature, but it hurt a little, all the same, for two reasons - it emphasized how far he was from achieving his goals, and it made him feel unimpressive. Cause that's what a guy was supposed to be like, right? Muscle-y and brave, leather jackets and cigarettes and motorcycles. Working out and wrestling. He was just a skinny adolescent with a mop of dark hair and a fondness for reading. He answered anyway, although his voice was heavy with hesitancy: "It's the name of the Greek god of war, but I know I'm not."
. 233 words.If the members of Dahlia weren't mean and nasty like Tokyo, then they were blind idiots, accepting her facade as truth. She was so fucking transparent! He shook his head, mistrusting her statement on the good character of some Dahlians. The only ones that were worth anything were the kids - they didn't have too much of a choice, really. Even his sister couldn't be truly forgiven; as much as he wanted to rescue Princess, it was as much from herself as from Tokyo. "My mother - Tokyo Chance." Simply put, but a brief explanation followed: "But I'm safe here, she's not allowed on Crimson Dreams territory."
Flayra queried about his name, and his mind flitted back to his recent encounter with Mati, who had said he didn't look much like a god of war. It had been teasing in nature, but it hurt a little, all the same, for two reasons - it emphasized how far he was from achieving his goals, and it made him feel unimpressive. Cause that's what a guy was supposed to be like, right? Muscle-y and brave, leather jackets and cigarettes and motorcycles. Working out and wrestling. He was just a skinny adolescent with a mop of dark hair and a fondness for reading. He answered anyway, although his voice was heavy with hesitancy: "It's the name of the Greek god of war, but I know I'm not."