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<blockquote data-quote="Vexed" data-source="post: 845671" data-attributes="member: 7361">:: Sitting in his chair, closing his eyes to try and stop the light from the fireplace from intensifying his headache, opening them only to take note of the man in the armor.&nbsp; A mercenary?&nbsp; The veins pulsing to the side of his temple causing him to grind his teeth slightly, while trying to remain indifferent, giving off the apperance nothing is bothering him.&nbsp; The constant irritation mixed with pangs of pain. Looking over at the man who seems so interested in himself and the others.&nbsp; Now taking notice of his wide eyes, he is going to actually say something now?::&quot;...the man in the breastplate turns toward you, his eyes round with drink . &quot;You're a quiet one,&quot; he says, not seeming to expect a response. &quot;What's with the blade? Trying to convince us something?&quot;*Thinking~Coward.&nbsp; They all want to hear the word &quot;we&quot; or &quot;us&quot;.&nbsp; Filling stadiums and arenas to hear the words.&nbsp; Don't like to hear the singular voice?&nbsp; They fear themselves.&nbsp; Hide in the cancerous folds of unity.&nbsp; Breed fear into everything they do, life is too short.&nbsp; Be yourself.&nbsp; No, that is to hard.&nbsp; You can't take off the mask you wear for everyone you met, that is,&nbsp; if you could get it over the alcohol you shove in your face. .... I bet i could convince you a human can drown in three inches of water~:: Looking down at the hilt of his dagger, and making sure the hilt feels comfortable he sets the dagger on the table and takes a long drink from his glass of water.&nbsp; He sighs loudly afterward , leaning back in the chair, and tilting his head slightly, he looks at the man with his eyes, and says in a calm voice::Draven::&quot; Well... you know what they say about the quiet ones...</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Vexed, post: 845671, member: 7361"] :: Sitting in his chair, closing his eyes to try and stop the light from the fireplace from intensifying his headache, opening them only to take note of the man in the armor. A mercenary? The veins pulsing to the side of his temple causing him to grind his teeth slightly, while trying to remain indifferent, giving off the apperance nothing is bothering him. The constant irritation mixed with pangs of pain. Looking over at the man who seems so interested in himself and the others. Now taking notice of his wide eyes, he is going to actually say something now?:: "...the man in the breastplate turns toward you, his eyes round with drink . "You're a quiet one," he says, not seeming to expect a response. "What's with the blade? Trying to convince us something?" *Thinking ~Coward. They all want to hear the word "we" or "us". Filling stadiums and arenas to hear the words. Don't like to hear the singular voice? They fear themselves. Hide in the cancerous folds of unity. Breed fear into everything they do, life is too short. Be yourself. No, that is to hard. You can't take off the mask you wear for everyone you met, that is, if you could get it over the alcohol you shove in your face. .... I bet i could convince you a human can drown in three inches of water~ :: Looking down at the hilt of his dagger, and making sure the hilt feels comfortable he sets the dagger on the table and takes a long drink from his glass of water. He sighs loudly afterward , leaning back in the chair, and tilting his head slightly, he looks at the man with his eyes, and says in a calm voice:: Draven::" Well... you know what they say about the quiet ones... [/QUOTE]

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