Post by Adam Urie on Sept 10, 2013 20:05:26 GMT -5
it's getting harder and harder to breathe
Bhujerba, the skycity, it was a rich scheme of brawn shades and luscious greenery. Adam was a stranger to Bhujerba, but he was so used to being the stranger that he felt at home just as much as his actual hometown--or, more keenly, he didn't have a place that felt like home, nor a place he could call home. That was okay, though, because a life of adventure sounded infinitely better than spending his life in the same place, up until he croaked on a lonely night.
The sky was brighter here, and the green was greener. People here felt more alive, not husks and hollow shells. There was a lot to see here, and his feet were irking him by the time he was satisfied. Adam slowly drifted towards the side of the bridge he was on, which had a vast width compared to what he was used to. He sat against the edge, which was protected by a wall-esque rail, decorated with intricate engraving and shape. His legs stuck out, and his elbows rested on his knees.
The outfits passing by differed from each individual, but none of them quite resembled Adam's simple apparel. He had a long-sleeved, cotton shirt on, which had a green plaid design, it was button-up and had only slightly wider cuffs, that were connected by a button--a short-sleeved, white tee was hidden underneath. Other than that, he wore dark blue jeans and brown, solemn shoes. His face always had a hint of misanthropy on it--call it a mild dread--which was, admittedly, a result of the demeanor that his past had called for. This was the most content he felt in a while, disregarding the fact that he still had a sense of purpose to find.
The sky was brighter here, and the green was greener. People here felt more alive, not husks and hollow shells. There was a lot to see here, and his feet were irking him by the time he was satisfied. Adam slowly drifted towards the side of the bridge he was on, which had a vast width compared to what he was used to. He sat against the edge, which was protected by a wall-esque rail, decorated with intricate engraving and shape. His legs stuck out, and his elbows rested on his knees.
The outfits passing by differed from each individual, but none of them quite resembled Adam's simple apparel. He had a long-sleeved, cotton shirt on, which had a green plaid design, it was button-up and had only slightly wider cuffs, that were connected by a button--a short-sleeved, white tee was hidden underneath. Other than that, he wore dark blue jeans and brown, solemn shoes. His face always had a hint of misanthropy on it--call it a mild dread--which was, admittedly, a result of the demeanor that his past had called for. This was the most content he felt in a while, disregarding the fact that he still had a sense of purpose to find.
LAIKA OF GS!
