01-05-2010, 03:04 PM
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@&#&$Reading was a tricky subject for the bronze male. Stagnation was a feeling he despised and sought to avoid, but books were only one of the means he'd found to improve upon his own mind. He still had a rough time finding the optimum distance at which to place printed material--his eyes were scarcely accustomed to focusing on detail in very close range, and he succumbed to eye strain after only half an hour or so of sustained concentration. At the same time, the text was often printed so small it was unreadable more than an arm's length away. Anselm mostly liked field guides and reference manuals, books that primarily focused on pictorial demonstration and the sparse use of captions. Otherwise, he was more likely to go out, observe, and experiment on his own. It was debatable which method was more efficient, but he certainly found the latter more enjoyable. Ultimately, he was as much a "doer" as a "thinker;" if either half of him was left unfulfilled he got cranky.
@&#&$This store only had a limited selection of books, none of which interested in him the slightest. Even if he had the patience to pour through hundreds of pages of tiny print, he'd be somewhat repulsed by the "gushy junk" of the dime a dozen romance novels and unimpressed by the "horror." All of it would pale in comparison to his own life; one violent werewolf? Try being surrounded by dozens! Cheesy novels aside, the store did have a number of supplies that he wanted. It didn't take him long to find the blankets he wanted; several comforters, still in their original plastic bags for easy and clean transport. They were bulky to carry but extremely light. He glanced too quick at a nearby sign and inadvertently found himself in "hardware" rather than "housewares"--not that he cared. He stared at some of the tools, knowing already to pass by anything in a cardboard box. These things usually required electricity; the more primitive, still helpful tools were kept in clear plastic casements or just on the shelf. He grabbed a handful of things that looked interesting (of these, he understood the intended purpose of maybe three quarters), then awkwardly carried his little pile onward to his original destination.
@&#&$Along the way he passed by some utility storage containers--behemoths of plastic that were far more impressive than the tiny Tupperware things he'd imagined in housewares. He pried the lid off of one and dumped everything he'd accumulated into it. What a convenient discovery! It even had little wheels (which would be useless in a forest), making transport easier than ever. He kicked it along with his foot to the last stop on his agenda and began to toss random things inside. When he was done, he secured the lid on his bin and tried the weight--it would make keeping up with Cotl's horse on the way back more interesting, but Anselm would enjoy the challenge. By the time he found his companion at the entrance, it seemed as if both of them had accumulated a good amount of swag. He couldn't really tell what was encased by Cotl's new hammock, but he could see it was swollen with looted goodies. "Good haul for both of us, yeah?" he asked with a grin before lifting up his newly acquired treasures. "Might as well get back home. You should hit me up whenever you're ready for that tattoo; I'll be looking forward to it." After finagling all of their junk out the door and a quick double check to make sure all was in order (i.e. the bong), they were off.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +609
@&#&$This store only had a limited selection of books, none of which interested in him the slightest. Even if he had the patience to pour through hundreds of pages of tiny print, he'd be somewhat repulsed by the "gushy junk" of the dime a dozen romance novels and unimpressed by the "horror." All of it would pale in comparison to his own life; one violent werewolf? Try being surrounded by dozens! Cheesy novels aside, the store did have a number of supplies that he wanted. It didn't take him long to find the blankets he wanted; several comforters, still in their original plastic bags for easy and clean transport. They were bulky to carry but extremely light. He glanced too quick at a nearby sign and inadvertently found himself in "hardware" rather than "housewares"--not that he cared. He stared at some of the tools, knowing already to pass by anything in a cardboard box. These things usually required electricity; the more primitive, still helpful tools were kept in clear plastic casements or just on the shelf. He grabbed a handful of things that looked interesting (of these, he understood the intended purpose of maybe three quarters), then awkwardly carried his little pile onward to his original destination.
@&#&$Along the way he passed by some utility storage containers--behemoths of plastic that were far more impressive than the tiny Tupperware things he'd imagined in housewares. He pried the lid off of one and dumped everything he'd accumulated into it. What a convenient discovery! It even had little wheels (which would be useless in a forest), making transport easier than ever. He kicked it along with his foot to the last stop on his agenda and began to toss random things inside. When he was done, he secured the lid on his bin and tried the weight--it would make keeping up with Cotl's horse on the way back more interesting, but Anselm would enjoy the challenge. By the time he found his companion at the entrance, it seemed as if both of them had accumulated a good amount of swag. He couldn't really tell what was encased by Cotl's new hammock, but he could see it was swollen with looted goodies. "Good haul for both of us, yeah?" he asked with a grin before lifting up his newly acquired treasures. "Might as well get back home. You should hit me up whenever you're ready for that tattoo; I'll be looking forward to it." After finagling all of their junk out the door and a quick double check to make sure all was in order (i.e. the bong), they were off.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +609