08-29-2018, 09:46 AM
[table][tr][td][div style="width: 70px; height:70px; background-image:url(https://i.imgbox.com/4XVwGFUK.png); background-size: cover; background-position: top;"][/td][td][div style="width: 100px; text-align: center; font-family: arial; font-size: 7pt; color: #8A8A8A; line-height: 100%; padding-top: 5px; padding-left: 10px; opacity: 0.75; text-transform: lowercase"]Secrets on Broadway to the freeway, you're a keeper of crimes; Fear no conviction, grapes of wrath can only sweeten your wine
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One couldn't hear crashing waves against the shore, no matter how romantic it would've been, from the Ferris wheel more inland - but watching over the beach at the top of it, if one was brave enough to slowly climb up from one carriage to the other through all the swaying and eerie creaks of metal, made it seem like they could. Just observing the water flush ashore and scatter over the sand, drawing back, to then again gather a sweeping tide larger than the last. The Ferris wheel carriages were just barely suitable for residing in; its rotating function being less gravity-based and more through mechanical control, for the most part the Ferris wheel was stable, but the carriages rocked and clanked in the wind, seeming to shudder at every movement. As Ferris wheel carriages did.
This, Rialto had trained himself not to mind. Having been living in one for months after the initial scrub at his carriage's rusting varnish, painting over it with tongues of gold and blue to mark, it was as though he no longer even noticed it swinging. Any reasonable living being wouldn't consciously put themselves at risk if there were clearly second options; it was understandable that while one could claim a carriage of their own to live in, as some did in the interest of shelter, it wasn't smart. Cooping up in long-abandoned apartment buildings with cobwebs between the broken wood panels and growing moss in the roof was wise. Setting up camp in a little metal cubicle with permanently opened windows, owing for the glass all shattering from the tsunami, and hardly enough room to even stand? Utterly appalling. Terrible. Not fun at all.
Essentially why he'd elected for one as his primary haunt, Rialto might suppose. It was temporary, cold scrap metal over his head and the whole thing jam-packed with more creative materials than living necessities - a little distant, a lot dilapidated. Keeping himself on his toes, or whatever it was.
The vampire was perched on the top of a carriage just three from the bottom, not out of sight but not in itself low, one leg hanging off the side and a mess of beads and strings in his lap that he was assembling absentmindedly. Bracelets for your phone: in the works. (Complexly interwoven loops that were even smaller than rings. Where would they even adhere to your phone? Good Question.) A pity that having a longer life and a tweaked digestive system meant half of nature was set on denying him; watching the sunset was about as romantic as watching the ocean, except he had to deck himself in full sun-protection gear. One turtleneck. Gloves. Hockey helmet. Carefully angled away from the sun. The whole shebang. He looked, hard, in the distance, as though he were contemplating something very deep and indeed worthy of looking long at the horizon for, wind tousling the hair around his face.
He wouldn't be making his sales target this month, it seemed. That had been the case for the past six months as well. Silently lighting a candle for himself, Rialto took a long swig of blood soda, only to realise the can was empty. With that, he gave an aggrieved sigh and promptly tossed the can somewhere over his shoulder. Please. It was so hard being talented.
This, Rialto had trained himself not to mind. Having been living in one for months after the initial scrub at his carriage's rusting varnish, painting over it with tongues of gold and blue to mark, it was as though he no longer even noticed it swinging. Any reasonable living being wouldn't consciously put themselves at risk if there were clearly second options; it was understandable that while one could claim a carriage of their own to live in, as some did in the interest of shelter, it wasn't smart. Cooping up in long-abandoned apartment buildings with cobwebs between the broken wood panels and growing moss in the roof was wise. Setting up camp in a little metal cubicle with permanently opened windows, owing for the glass all shattering from the tsunami, and hardly enough room to even stand? Utterly appalling. Terrible. Not fun at all.
Essentially why he'd elected for one as his primary haunt, Rialto might suppose. It was temporary, cold scrap metal over his head and the whole thing jam-packed with more creative materials than living necessities - a little distant, a lot dilapidated. Keeping himself on his toes, or whatever it was.
The vampire was perched on the top of a carriage just three from the bottom, not out of sight but not in itself low, one leg hanging off the side and a mess of beads and strings in his lap that he was assembling absentmindedly. Bracelets for your phone: in the works. (Complexly interwoven loops that were even smaller than rings. Where would they even adhere to your phone? Good Question.) A pity that having a longer life and a tweaked digestive system meant half of nature was set on denying him; watching the sunset was about as romantic as watching the ocean, except he had to deck himself in full sun-protection gear. One turtleneck. Gloves. Hockey helmet. Carefully angled away from the sun. The whole shebang. He looked, hard, in the distance, as though he were contemplating something very deep and indeed worthy of looking long at the horizon for, wind tousling the hair around his face.
He wouldn't be making his sales target this month, it seemed. That had been the case for the past six months as well. Silently lighting a candle for himself, Rialto took a long swig of blood soda, only to realise the can was empty. With that, he gave an aggrieved sigh and promptly tossed the can somewhere over his shoulder. Please. It was so hard being talented.
[ wc >200 if youd like to cross out a bingo!!
watch the sunset 1/3
winks w/ both eyes it's also possible to make a purchase... from rialto. if u dare ]
watch the sunset 1/3
winks w/ both eyes it's also possible to make a purchase... from rialto. if u dare ]