maybe i'm a different breed {{thomas||crona}}

He glanced out of the window of his father's jewelry store. The sky was a sight to behold, blended violets, blues, oranges, and pinks greeting his eyes. Thomas couldn't help but yearn to leave this dusty shop, not with the sunset as enticing as it was. He had a profound appreciation of the natural beauty of twilight, and it was indeed his favorite part of the day. "Son, would you mind locking up the back?" his father called. "I'll be just a moment, I'm with a customer." "Alright, but it'll cost you one of your diamond blades!"

Of course, that was a joke. He couldn't steal a diamond blade even if he wanted to; it wouldn't be theft. The gem-cutting tools belong to Thomas as much they did to his father. In fact, being the more gifted of the pair, Thomas used them more frequently. At any rate, he had disappeared into the back of the store. There was a small bowl that he and his father kept the keys to the building in, and he grabbed the ring and practically materialized in front of the back door. Such was his impatience; he was ready to leave for the night.

Locking the door, Thomas walked back the front of the shop. In an effort to accelerate the process of getting out, he started closing the blinds. Meanwhile, his father was intent upon selling this gentleman on an emerald necklace for his wife, inspiring no small amount of amusement for his mischievous son, who was a good deal more concerned with wondering how the man would react should he be doused with a bucket of ice water. He was a stuffy sort, this gentleman, of around forty five, and Thomas hated boring.

In his life, sharpness was paramount, in every sense of the word. Take that diamond blade, for example. Were it dull, it would lose all its value. Such was how Thomas Augustin viewed mankind. If a person wasn't intriguing, they were not worth his attention span. Or, at least, not more than it took for him to pull a prank or two. After all, perhaps being on the receiving end of a bit of mischief might cause someone as dull seeming  as his father's customer to lighten up a bit.

After what seemed like an eternity, the man finally left. Thomas's father had been unable to convince him to make the purchase, so the necklace remained in its glass display case, shimmering with its loneliness. He was rather glad. That necklace was one of his favorite pieces in the store. See, he was a bit attached to the jewelry he and his father crafted. In fact, occasionally, he would become so attached to them as to name these..these…works of art.

The emerald necklace, as it happened, was named "Envy," for its lush green hue. The necklace's centerpiece was one of the purest pieces of emerald Thomas had ever cut, which had made him swell with pride at the time. Suddenly, the street lamps turned on, starting Thomas and derailing his train of thought. "You alright?" his father asked, raising an eyebrow at his son's surprise. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanna walk for a bit, if that's okay, before I go home." "Go ahead, just don't stay out too late."

Alas, he was finally free! Free to admire the beautiful dusk settling in over District One. He bolted from the shop joyously, heading straight for the tallest hill in the area. Upon that hill was a majestic oak tree, and it was this arboreal giant that towered over Thomas with regularity, as it was the boy's favorite haunt from which to watch the evening fade to night. Out of breath from sprinting, he plunked down at the base of the tree, and gazed back up at the sky. The corners of his mouth twitched upward at the sight, forming his perpetual roguish grin.