07-24-2008, 05:08 PM
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aw, halifax. for someone I've never RP'd with before, plz. :o
Another day, another bookstore. He had decided that he liked the quaint and tiny corner bookstores better than the larger chains and libraries. He had never been particularly claustrophobic, and the cramped space felt more comfortable somehow, more personal, more friendly. It made him feel more secure that he knew what was in his immediate surroundings, and that there was usually just one or two entrances. These places, for the most part, always smelt the same. The scent of dust and aged leather and yellowed pages that had not seen light in many long years. Though the curiosity of his youth remained, for the most part, in his youth, Laruku found himself reading more in the last several weeks than he had in the last two years combined. He had forgotten about the comforts of fantasy worlds hidden between covers, and he had forgotten about the beauty of the words, of the voices.
Today though, the hybrid found himself sitting on the floor against a wall with a few dozen music books sprawled out on the aged carpet around him. They ranged from very easy to very difficult in skill level and the genres spanned further, from his favorites in the classicals to things he could not remember having ever seen before. He was not so skilled at being able to hear the notes in his head as he read them, but he missed the piano for the first time in years. The early afternoon sunlight poured through the dust-caked window at the front of the small store and birds called loudly to each other just outside. But Laruku wasn't really there with them; he was somewhere else, a place that couldn't even be described with the most graceful of words.
Another day, another bookstore. He had decided that he liked the quaint and tiny corner bookstores better than the larger chains and libraries. He had never been particularly claustrophobic, and the cramped space felt more comfortable somehow, more personal, more friendly. It made him feel more secure that he knew what was in his immediate surroundings, and that there was usually just one or two entrances. These places, for the most part, always smelt the same. The scent of dust and aged leather and yellowed pages that had not seen light in many long years. Though the curiosity of his youth remained, for the most part, in his youth, Laruku found himself reading more in the last several weeks than he had in the last two years combined. He had forgotten about the comforts of fantasy worlds hidden between covers, and he had forgotten about the beauty of the words, of the voices.
Today though, the hybrid found himself sitting on the floor against a wall with a few dozen music books sprawled out on the aged carpet around him. They ranged from very easy to very difficult in skill level and the genres spanned further, from his favorites in the classicals to things he could not remember having ever seen before. He was not so skilled at being able to hear the notes in his head as he read them, but he missed the piano for the first time in years. The early afternoon sunlight poured through the dust-caked window at the front of the small store and birds called loudly to each other just outside. But Laruku wasn't really there with them; he was somewhere else, a place that couldn't even be described with the most graceful of words.