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tampered2006-10-07 09:24 pm
natty-boy.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-10-07 09:24 pm
Log: On-going.
When; Backdated to Oct. 2, the night of the Masque' Ball.
Rating; Strong PG-13 for language.
Characters; Nathaniel (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
natty_boy) and Kitty Jones (kittyjones).
Summary; A few hours after the start of the Masque' Ball, and a few hours before sunrise. Nathaniel, upon arrival at the Ball, has a realisation after meeting a masked young woman by the drinks. The magician goes to the rooftop of Building 7 to wait and hope that it isn't too late.
Log;
Was it still too late to be there? Nathaniel wondered as he hurried down the dark streets of the City. It was late, he knew that. It couldn't be long now before dawn, and he was suddenly grateful for the thick velvet of his costume -- the night was certainly cold and he could use the warmth. Especially if he was going to wait on the rooftop for her. If she still came.
His mouth was a grim slash of determination as he strode quickly past the Fountain towards his building. Up the stairs, and up and up and up, past his apartment door and keep on going up. He panted against the gold mask, breath steaming and warm as it bounced back at him, and his brow wrinkled with disgust when he realised he had, in his haste, not taken off the damn thing. His breath was laced with the light scent of champagne. I'm not drunk, he reminded himself as he leant against the railing for a brief rest. I wouldn't be thinking this clearly if I was.
Finally, he burst through the door that led to the rooftop and he allowed himself a slight smile as he surveyed the distantly sparkling lights of the Ball across the City. On the horizon, he could see the dark sky, dark sky, stretching out over the walls and beyond into unknown territory and sand dunes. Was dawn close? Had she come back? He looked over the City again, hopeful. Was she in the streets?
Nathaniel leant against the ledge of the roof and pulled away the bottom half of his mask again, set it on the ground. He let the cold night air flood into his lungs, wash over his face, cool the sweat from his hurried departure of the Ball.
Will she come...
Now all he had to do was wait.
Rating; Strong PG-13 for language.
Characters; Nathaniel (
natty_boy) and Kitty Jones (kittyjones).Summary; A few hours after the start of the Masque' Ball, and a few hours before sunrise. Nathaniel, upon arrival at the Ball, has a realisation after meeting a masked young woman by the drinks. The magician goes to the rooftop of Building 7 to wait and hope that it isn't too late.
Log;
Was it still too late to be there? Nathaniel wondered as he hurried down the dark streets of the City. It was late, he knew that. It couldn't be long now before dawn, and he was suddenly grateful for the thick velvet of his costume -- the night was certainly cold and he could use the warmth. Especially if he was going to wait on the rooftop for her. If she still came.
His mouth was a grim slash of determination as he strode quickly past the Fountain towards his building. Up the stairs, and up and up and up, past his apartment door and keep on going up. He panted against the gold mask, breath steaming and warm as it bounced back at him, and his brow wrinkled with disgust when he realised he had, in his haste, not taken off the damn thing. His breath was laced with the light scent of champagne. I'm not drunk, he reminded himself as he leant against the railing for a brief rest. I wouldn't be thinking this clearly if I was.
Finally, he burst through the door that led to the rooftop and he allowed himself a slight smile as he surveyed the distantly sparkling lights of the Ball across the City. On the horizon, he could see the dark sky, dark sky, stretching out over the walls and beyond into unknown territory and sand dunes. Was dawn close? Had she come back? He looked over the City again, hopeful. Was she in the streets?
Nathaniel leant against the ledge of the roof and pulled away the bottom half of his mask again, set it on the ground. He let the cold night air flood into his lungs, wash over his face, cool the sweat from his hurried departure of the Ball.
Will she come...
Now all he had to do was wait.