The lordling paced up and down the cabinet, every now and again looking up at the banister, shooing away at the maids in bonnets and butlers in suits. At one point he sat down into his throne, and locked the small golden gates that led to it, feeling the carpet of velvet smooth under his feet, when a little man bustled by and he called a guard to come take him to the dungeons. Feeling somewhat bored, he stretched his hand to candidly take a sip of his drum wine, slurping as he ran his spare hand through locks of red hair, steel-black eyes focusing on the feel of his tresses.
He did not appear to at all feel like an animal in a cage, as he looked up at the walls, all illustrated with him at graveyards, planting blades into necks, bloodied on the ground kissing maidens, looking like a raging storm on the battle-field, landing an arrow at a green boy's chest and... a painting much similar to another one, with him pinning a woman with her hair up in a beehive against the walls of his stone castle, in her skin-revealing dress, all bruised and sweaty from the workout but still able to push his lips against her cheek, hand gripping her backside. That was love he growled to himself. That was love at its fullest and then she hit me hard, right in the heart...
He touched his thraes (bear-like) skin cape, fingers gripping at the pink quartz intertwining at the loose fabric, velvet like his carpet. A large canvas with illustrations of him walking in an alley, so narrow three relatively-slender man could not walk abreast, with an apple-like fruit glowing bronze in his hand, heard covered by a hood, showed in front of him, much with the other deeds that he had done.
A bowl of fruit-like objects sat beside the teacup on a table of ivory, but there seemed to be something missing . . . ? Puhkinz. They were, in Earthian, much like pumpkins, — actually, they were pumpkins, except that the outsides were crisp and crusty while the insides were all orange goo, one that was not meant to be devoured, but rather left on the face for a Time or two, until it were taken off and put in the bin. Ahh. Not quite like pumpkins, but still pumpkins.
Arachphat "Arach" had, irritated, pulled at the string on the bell attached to the wall, which clipped to it, as if the rope were a cord. A ding-ding-drrrrr echoed upstairs, over the bannister, and to the left, where the kitchen was, and out of a little pebble by the string there projected a voice. "What is it, Royal Prince Arach?" The pale cheeks of the twenty-six-year-old (so to say if he were Earthian) sighed, feeling tired.
His eyebrows, previously like caterpillars (on Earth) but now smoothly cut to two slanting lines, furrowed and knotted, eyes steel-black, as he flexed his jawline, running a hand through red, unmattered hair, face chiselled, high-defined... nose was long and straight, like a Russian one (Earthian references again, bare with me), his body taught, shoulders extremely large, thighs thick, he lean and strong, back pulled and massaging his temples.
No comments:
Post a Comment