Boys At Play {Loki + SHR!MP}
Aug 26, 2014 16:41:43 GMT -5
Post by Loki on Aug 26, 2014 16:41:43 GMT -5
Lucifer Crown
BIO
I have been exited for days, to the point that waiting had become torture, and the anticipation had shortened my temper to the point where I was being less than my charming self to friends and family. Now, finally, the morning of the annual Hunger Games Society convention was at hand. I'd been out of bed early, and showered and shaved and then it took me at least an hour to get dressed. I finally settled on an absinthe colored suit trimmed in maroon, eyecatching enough to draw attention to myself as I wanted, and I streaked several maroon stripes in to my hair, put on my makeup (dark brown eyeliner and pale peach lipgloss) and then finally the eggplant colored dungeon boots that added another four inches to my height.
I knew there would be virtually no parking at the convention, so I walked to the nearest innercity train, over shoulder bag containing my drawings of mutts I would like to see used someday and my Victor's View to collect autographs in. Finally, the train arrived at the stop on the block I needed, and I strolled (forcing myself not to run,) towards the convention building and went inside. I bought a VIP pass, of course, and then the whole place was mine to explore and discover and meet with like-minded people. I don't really need friends, I don't think, but I do enjoy having my opinions agreed with at times.
I roamed the different booths, and bought a few trinkets and guides, including of course a glossy framed Leon, I couldn't help but tell the girl at that booth that I'd bet on Krigel as soon as it was down to the last eight. And no, not just because he's gorgeous. I actually though he would win, just had a feeling. I put the picture in my bag, and crossed the concourse and happened to catch the scent of the food stands, which reminded me with a grumbling belly that I had skipped breakfast in my excitement.
I headed to the stand with the almost erotically luscious flavor of cinnamon buns, and I ordered one, and a latte, and then headed for the circle of tables and sat; while I ate, I did so left handed, so that I could outline in ink one of my unfinished drawings of mutts - this one was a seven foot land octopus with mouths full of teeth at the end of each of ten tentacles. It moved sort of like a wheel with a top speed of fifteen miles per hour. More than fast enough to run down unlucky tributes, really.
I know people stopped to look at the drawing and I even heard a few soft compliments, but i pretended not to notice as I snacked and outlined, though there was a little smile dancing on my lips...
BIO
I have been exited for days, to the point that waiting had become torture, and the anticipation had shortened my temper to the point where I was being less than my charming self to friends and family. Now, finally, the morning of the annual Hunger Games Society convention was at hand. I'd been out of bed early, and showered and shaved and then it took me at least an hour to get dressed. I finally settled on an absinthe colored suit trimmed in maroon, eyecatching enough to draw attention to myself as I wanted, and I streaked several maroon stripes in to my hair, put on my makeup (dark brown eyeliner and pale peach lipgloss) and then finally the eggplant colored dungeon boots that added another four inches to my height.
I knew there would be virtually no parking at the convention, so I walked to the nearest innercity train, over shoulder bag containing my drawings of mutts I would like to see used someday and my Victor's View to collect autographs in. Finally, the train arrived at the stop on the block I needed, and I strolled (forcing myself not to run,) towards the convention building and went inside. I bought a VIP pass, of course, and then the whole place was mine to explore and discover and meet with like-minded people. I don't really need friends, I don't think, but I do enjoy having my opinions agreed with at times.
I roamed the different booths, and bought a few trinkets and guides, including of course a glossy framed Leon, I couldn't help but tell the girl at that booth that I'd bet on Krigel as soon as it was down to the last eight. And no, not just because he's gorgeous. I actually though he would win, just had a feeling. I put the picture in my bag, and crossed the concourse and happened to catch the scent of the food stands, which reminded me with a grumbling belly that I had skipped breakfast in my excitement.
I headed to the stand with the almost erotically luscious flavor of cinnamon buns, and I ordered one, and a latte, and then headed for the circle of tables and sat; while I ate, I did so left handed, so that I could outline in ink one of my unfinished drawings of mutts - this one was a seven foot land octopus with mouths full of teeth at the end of each of ten tentacles. It moved sort of like a wheel with a top speed of fifteen miles per hour. More than fast enough to run down unlucky tributes, really.
I know people stopped to look at the drawing and I even heard a few soft compliments, but i pretended not to notice as I snacked and outlined, though there was a little smile dancing on my lips...