02-03-2010, 01:46 AM
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300+
>> aim convo ftw
The walls had been finished for a little while now, fully painted with all their glory to shine in the winter sunlight that would stream through curtain-less windows. Usually shiny from the freshness of the color, the walls were more dull now because of the light snow falling outside the glass panes. That did not stop the lounging Strel from staring at the wall as though he were a mindless vegetable, imagination going wild behind flat lavender eyes. Stories were dancing on his walls in multi-color. Halifax, painted black with yellow and white lights, were overrun with greenery but somehow it was still alive with personality and inhabitants. The mural wrapped around the entire room, including the doors to the small closet. In a corner was a strangely out of place tropical beach scene where two specific figures were depicted; they were Strel and a female, Mati Church. The initial sketch for it had been his doing, but the Dreamer's magic brushes fixed his errors quite easily. Now there was a masterpiece he could gaze at whenever he was home.
Just as he was leaning back in the nest that was his bed, piled high with messy bundles of cloth, a knock and call came from the door. The voice was familiar, but the redhead was still tempted to ignore it and stay in his half-vegetative state. But that would have been rude, and the newly promoted Marquis probably should not shirk whatever duties he had. Plus his image would not be able to handle the blow. If anyone really cared, that is.
Strel rose, or half-fell, from the bed, mattress springs groaning. Stepping lightly toward the door, he opened it, leaning against the wall beside it to peer out. A blond, tattooed and pierced, looked back at him as the portal swung inward with a creak. "Hey, Daisuke. What brings you here?" He did not ask how the blond got into the territory without discovery by anyone patrolling. After all, there was a war about, surely someone saw or heard him? Well, it was all good now, especially since he was here with him. No one would question the loner's reasons. "How you doing out there?" No reason to bring up the war, though the blond most likely had already heard of it. "Come in, pardon my messy bed. I have yet to drag a couch in here." He waved the other in, scooting to make a better sitting area out of his bed by pushing some of the blankets and things off for a flatter surface.
>> aim convo ftw
The walls had been finished for a little while now, fully painted with all their glory to shine in the winter sunlight that would stream through curtain-less windows. Usually shiny from the freshness of the color, the walls were more dull now because of the light snow falling outside the glass panes. That did not stop the lounging Strel from staring at the wall as though he were a mindless vegetable, imagination going wild behind flat lavender eyes. Stories were dancing on his walls in multi-color. Halifax, painted black with yellow and white lights, were overrun with greenery but somehow it was still alive with personality and inhabitants. The mural wrapped around the entire room, including the doors to the small closet. In a corner was a strangely out of place tropical beach scene where two specific figures were depicted; they were Strel and a female, Mati Church. The initial sketch for it had been his doing, but the Dreamer's magic brushes fixed his errors quite easily. Now there was a masterpiece he could gaze at whenever he was home.
Just as he was leaning back in the nest that was his bed, piled high with messy bundles of cloth, a knock and call came from the door. The voice was familiar, but the redhead was still tempted to ignore it and stay in his half-vegetative state. But that would have been rude, and the newly promoted Marquis probably should not shirk whatever duties he had. Plus his image would not be able to handle the blow. If anyone really cared, that is.
Strel rose, or half-fell, from the bed, mattress springs groaning. Stepping lightly toward the door, he opened it, leaning against the wall beside it to peer out. A blond, tattooed and pierced, looked back at him as the portal swung inward with a creak. "Hey, Daisuke. What brings you here?" He did not ask how the blond got into the territory without discovery by anyone patrolling. After all, there was a war about, surely someone saw or heard him? Well, it was all good now, especially since he was here with him. No one would question the loner's reasons. "How you doing out there?" No reason to bring up the war, though the blond most likely had already heard of it. "Come in, pardon my messy bed. I have yet to drag a couch in here." He waved the other in, scooting to make a better sitting area out of his bed by pushing some of the blankets and things off for a flatter surface.