12-12-2018, 11:53 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Christmas. He hated it. The holiday wasn't all pretty decorations and candy and presents- not in his experience. It was just an excuse for everyone to get wasted -not that they ever really needed an excuse- and a day for them to go out, steal shit, come back for Ambroise to pick glass shards out of their skin where they'd gotten overzealous with smashing lights. Cleaning up after dumbasses had been his job since he was a kid dragged off the side of the road by masked fiends- the very same dumbasses he took care of later, for whom Christmas was just another opportunity to take and take. That'd been more of a problem when he was younger, closer to gentle memories of cookies and a tiny, worn tree. Got easier when he grew older.
The same way death became easier.
Hard to see Christmas now as anything but tainted and greedy. The lion stalked the halls, managing to avoid most people on his own; his glower shooed away anyone who did cross paths with him, though it was aimed more at the decorations strewn about. So loud, so obnoxious, so unnecessary. Reminded him of the sleeping lion. Christmas was probably his favorite holiday, wasn't it? That or- Valentine's Day. Seemed like the type to enjoy over-the-top shit, and he didn't particularly care if he was wrong about that. Wasn't like he planned on finding out the truth.
Hazel eyes went from the decorations placed on him, to Atticus stringing up more of the shit, and then back to the lion. He wasn't going to let him sleep. "You might oughta should wake up, couillon," Ambroise grunted, kicking at the slumbering feline's shoulder. "Trussed up like some kinda gaudy turkey."
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The same way death became easier.
Hard to see Christmas now as anything but tainted and greedy. The lion stalked the halls, managing to avoid most people on his own; his glower shooed away anyone who did cross paths with him, though it was aimed more at the decorations strewn about. So loud, so obnoxious, so unnecessary. Reminded him of the sleeping lion. Christmas was probably his favorite holiday, wasn't it? That or- Valentine's Day. Seemed like the type to enjoy over-the-top shit, and he didn't particularly care if he was wrong about that. Wasn't like he planned on finding out the truth.
Hazel eyes went from the decorations placed on him, to Atticus stringing up more of the shit, and then back to the lion. He wasn't going to let him sleep. "You might oughta should wake up, couillon," Ambroise grunted, kicking at the slumbering feline's shoulder. "Trussed up like some kinda gaudy turkey."
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[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; font-family:georgia; max-width:400px; color:black; font-variant
mall-caps; line-height:1.1;"]there is no such thing as a dawn or a dusk — it's daylight until it is night; and there is no such thing as a dying man — we are alive 'til the moment we are dead
mall-caps; line-height:1.1;"]there is no such thing as a dawn or a dusk — it's daylight until it is night; and there is no such thing as a dying man — we are alive 'til the moment we are dead