Apr 1, 2021 9:17:41 GMT -5
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With all the chaos surrounding them, Wynn couldn’t help but slip past the instructors and centurions to hide away in the gardens. He wasn’t bothered as much by the arrival of the Greeks as others who gave the impression that the hatred and loathing were assigned upon birth. Greeks here, Greeks there. Greeks everywhere!
He found himself a nice and sunny spot between various flowers, indulging himself in their scents. His head rested on one arm tucked underneath it, a golden brown lock falling in his eye as he shifted slightly on the ground. The weather inside the camp, which was usually just the perfect temperature and always sunny with a clear sky, had acted up lately due to no apparent reasons. But today it seemed restored back to normal. Wynn pushed his hair back, laying the back of his free hand on the bridge of his nose to cover his eyes after he closed them.
Taking a deep breath he relaxed, listening to the sound of laughter and giggles in the distance, the clashing of blades against another, the thud an arrow made as it hit its target, the yells of instructors, and he could swear someone was crying somwhere.
A variety of random images flickered against his lids. It was as if he was browsing through Netflix, trying to decide which movie to watch. Illusions often acted as some sort of drug. Once one began they couldn't stop. Their desire to see what they wanted to see and ignore the real world around them grew stronger and stronger the more they indulge themselves in the bittersweet nectar of a dreamlike state.
When the warmth of the sun was stolen from him and the light he could make out through closed lids was dimmed to a shadow, he let out a slightly annoyed sigh. His hand moved up to rest against his forehead before he rolled his head to the side, glancing up at whoever was disturbing his peaceful afternoon.
„Did the gods send you to bring and feed me grapes?“ he asked, one corner of his lips curling up into a smug grin.
With all the chaos surrounding them, Wynn couldn’t help but slip past the instructors and centurions to hide away in the gardens. He wasn’t bothered as much by the arrival of the Greeks as others who gave the impression that the hatred and loathing were assigned upon birth. Greeks here, Greeks there. Greeks everywhere!
He found himself a nice and sunny spot between various flowers, indulging himself in their scents. His head rested on one arm tucked underneath it, a golden brown lock falling in his eye as he shifted slightly on the ground. The weather inside the camp, which was usually just the perfect temperature and always sunny with a clear sky, had acted up lately due to no apparent reasons. But today it seemed restored back to normal. Wynn pushed his hair back, laying the back of his free hand on the bridge of his nose to cover his eyes after he closed them.
Taking a deep breath he relaxed, listening to the sound of laughter and giggles in the distance, the clashing of blades against another, the thud an arrow made as it hit its target, the yells of instructors, and he could swear someone was crying somwhere.
A variety of random images flickered against his lids. It was as if he was browsing through Netflix, trying to decide which movie to watch. Illusions often acted as some sort of drug. Once one began they couldn't stop. Their desire to see what they wanted to see and ignore the real world around them grew stronger and stronger the more they indulge themselves in the bittersweet nectar of a dreamlike state.
When the warmth of the sun was stolen from him and the light he could make out through closed lids was dimmed to a shadow, he let out a slightly annoyed sigh. His hand moved up to rest against his forehead before he rolled his head to the side, glancing up at whoever was disturbing his peaceful afternoon.
„Did the gods send you to bring and feed me grapes?“ he asked, one corner of his lips curling up into a smug grin.
[attr="class","THREAD2BLTAG"]Ophelia Lucille Rainecourt
