Post by Protégé on Aug 7, 2009 1:40:48 GMT -5
Okay, dumbass, you made it, now what?
His mind was full of brilliant thoughts...berating him, as he walked into the hall for the dance. Okay, so Protégé really hadn't thought much about what to do once he got Teagan to come to the dance. But hey, improvisation was the spice of life, eh?
Except you've got a very volatile ingredient there, and if it doesn't work well with the spice, that dish you call life will just get thrown away.
Sometimes Protégé wished he was drunk more often. The little voice in his head shut up then.
Protégé looked over at Ms. Monolayre to see if she had noticed any sign of his internal argument, and was again struck by how good of a job that weird man had done preparing her for the dance. He looked down at himself and prayed he didn't look too shabby next to her. All he had on were black pants, a black vest, with a dark green shirt on underneath that, and black robes over it all, open in front. His hair was its usual unkempt self, but considering it wouldn't agree to anything in the first place, it was normal. He had even clean shaven for this occasion. Compared to normal, he cut quite a dashing figure.
Looking back at Teagan again, he gestured with his free arm towards the dance hall. Visible within were friends, acquaintances, students, and co-workers. Some sat alone, some danced, some socialized, some just made asses of themselves. Were it not for her here, I'd probably be part of that last crowd. Speaking, he said, "Well, m'dear, shall we join this crowd of barbarians and see if we can walk out again sane and happy?"
His mind was full of brilliant thoughts...berating him, as he walked into the hall for the dance. Okay, so Protégé really hadn't thought much about what to do once he got Teagan to come to the dance. But hey, improvisation was the spice of life, eh?
Except you've got a very volatile ingredient there, and if it doesn't work well with the spice, that dish you call life will just get thrown away.
Sometimes Protégé wished he was drunk more often. The little voice in his head shut up then.
Protégé looked over at Ms. Monolayre to see if she had noticed any sign of his internal argument, and was again struck by how good of a job that weird man had done preparing her for the dance. He looked down at himself and prayed he didn't look too shabby next to her. All he had on were black pants, a black vest, with a dark green shirt on underneath that, and black robes over it all, open in front. His hair was its usual unkempt self, but considering it wouldn't agree to anything in the first place, it was normal. He had even clean shaven for this occasion. Compared to normal, he cut quite a dashing figure.
Looking back at Teagan again, he gestured with his free arm towards the dance hall. Visible within were friends, acquaintances, students, and co-workers. Some sat alone, some danced, some socialized, some just made asses of themselves. Were it not for her here, I'd probably be part of that last crowd. Speaking, he said, "Well, m'dear, shall we join this crowd of barbarians and see if we can walk out again sane and happy?"