08-19-2018, 06:24 PM
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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS
BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES
Sure, the scenery was pretty, but Bastille had never really had much of an eye for nature or pretty sights. He could appreciate beautiful literature or even art (art made by others, that was), knew a gorgeous waltz when he heard it, but other such general beauties? He barely even wasted a thought on how the night sky looked or the wide expanse of flowers dotting the Ascendants' territory. Often times he would meet newcomers who commented on it during their first tour, so naturally he knew it was beautiful, he just... didn't care, or rather, just didn't notice.
He was not, however, at odds with the beauty of the place. It didn't quite suit him much -- he was not personally a peaceful person, even if he was obligated to be given his role -- but he had come to consider the quiet plains his home, and he was relieved that they were finally out of the Observatory. He'd take weirdly serene views over being trapped inside. He was patrolling that morning, taking advantage of the freedom to do so, when he came upon the stranger waiting on their border.
[b]"Yo," he greeted idly, eyeing her briefly but not really wasting time of meaningless small talk, "What'd'ya need? You're on the Ascendants border."
He was not, however, at odds with the beauty of the place. It didn't quite suit him much -- he was not personally a peaceful person, even if he was obligated to be given his role -- but he had come to consider the quiet plains his home, and he was relieved that they were finally out of the Observatory. He'd take weirdly serene views over being trapped inside. He was patrolling that morning, taking advantage of the freedom to do so, when he came upon the stranger waiting on their border.
[b]"Yo," he greeted idly, eyeing her briefly but not really wasting time of meaningless small talk, "What'd'ya need? You're on the Ascendants border."
[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]