>> E l l i o t W i n c h e s t e r <<
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
Elliot sighed at the beautiful and utterly perfect way humans had of wording their stories. It was as though correct usage of syntax paired with thier exquisite imaginations, they could paint whole worlds before the very eyes of the reader and transport them back hundreds of years to the time the story took place. It was absolutely lovely, and Elliot had been curled up in a chair in the library since early this morning, drinking in one story after the other, feeding his soul with the rich words of the writers of long ago. There were no others in the library, and the employees had been watching his horror-stricken, pained, or jubilant facial expressions with quiet giggles ever since he began reading. Because he became so absorbed in the stories, it seemed he had no control over his emotions, which fluctuated with the emotions of the characters in whatever book he happened to be reading at the time. It was comical, but Elliot hardly noticed.
He was eventually pulled from his trance by the faint pattering of a few raindrops on the large window across from him. He watched the falling of the rain owlishly for a few moments, then glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and Elliot wondered if his fellow nature spirits would be looking for him. They had only recently found their way into this fascinatingly dreamlike world, and they had already become frustrated with him several times for wandering off in his curiosity about the strange things he saw everywhere. But he really couldn't help himself, and he was smart enough to find his own way back to his place of residence, so he didn't see what the problem was with him exploring a bit.
In any case, Elliot knew he should probably locate them. He sighed, looking sadly down at his books at the thought of leaving them. He chose two that he had not finished, checked them out hastily, and left. Once outside, he absorbed the sweet, earthy scent that only rain could bring and began walking toward Jack's apartment, the closest of them. However, he soon found that it would scarcely be necessary to knock on the door, as was the custom in this world, because Jack was already outside. He was speaking to Priscilla, a light-hearted vampire who had joined them on their journey into this world, along with a small number of others. He absently watched them playfully converse from a fair distance away, clutching his books tightly. He was never sure of how to approach social rituals, such as interfering with a conversation without offending either party. He stood there awkwardly, considering it, as Jack began a exuberant game of 'tag'.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
Elliot sighed at the beautiful and utterly perfect way humans had of wording their stories. It was as though correct usage of syntax paired with thier exquisite imaginations, they could paint whole worlds before the very eyes of the reader and transport them back hundreds of years to the time the story took place. It was absolutely lovely, and Elliot had been curled up in a chair in the library since early this morning, drinking in one story after the other, feeding his soul with the rich words of the writers of long ago. There were no others in the library, and the employees had been watching his horror-stricken, pained, or jubilant facial expressions with quiet giggles ever since he began reading. Because he became so absorbed in the stories, it seemed he had no control over his emotions, which fluctuated with the emotions of the characters in whatever book he happened to be reading at the time. It was comical, but Elliot hardly noticed.
He was eventually pulled from his trance by the faint pattering of a few raindrops on the large window across from him. He watched the falling of the rain owlishly for a few moments, then glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and Elliot wondered if his fellow nature spirits would be looking for him. They had only recently found their way into this fascinatingly dreamlike world, and they had already become frustrated with him several times for wandering off in his curiosity about the strange things he saw everywhere. But he really couldn't help himself, and he was smart enough to find his own way back to his place of residence, so he didn't see what the problem was with him exploring a bit.
In any case, Elliot knew he should probably locate them. He sighed, looking sadly down at his books at the thought of leaving them. He chose two that he had not finished, checked them out hastily, and left. Once outside, he absorbed the sweet, earthy scent that only rain could bring and began walking toward Jack's apartment, the closest of them. However, he soon found that it would scarcely be necessary to knock on the door, as was the custom in this world, because Jack was already outside. He was speaking to Priscilla, a light-hearted vampire who had joined them on their journey into this world, along with a small number of others. He absently watched them playfully converse from a fair distance away, clutching his books tightly. He was never sure of how to approach social rituals, such as interfering with a conversation without offending either party. He stood there awkwardly, considering it, as Jack began a exuberant game of 'tag'.
[NOTE: My first post for the roleplay I joined most recently. Not the best, but it's alright.]
