*Aramis is leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up upon the splintering wooden table, the thin wisp of smoke trailing from his cigarette dancing affectionately around his head like a crown of mist. His eyes are closed, yet he somehow was able to sense your approach.*
"I'm afraid I can't be of much entertainment this evening. If you need something from me, go to Gaia and look for my art at the Art Arena. Make a comment, vote, do what you will. I just can't be bothered tonight."
*It's blatantly obvious that the conversation between Aramis and the young man named Reckless didn't go very well. You decide that maybe it's better to leave this topic alone for a while, to come back another time, when Aramis is in a far more hospitable mood.*
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Thu Jan 13, 2005 @ 10:06pm · 0 Comments |
