Keisuke Uesugi (catchyourshadow) wrote in haunted_roads, @ 2008-04-08 01:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | keisuke |
Week Five: Wednesday
Who: Keisuke and Open
What: Riding out the storm
Where: The Towers
When: Wednesday night
Rating: TBA
Keisuke stretched his arms over his head as he stood there, barefoot in his room, the rain pounding away at his tinted windows. Lightening struck outside, thunder adding a hint of gloom and melancholy to the mood. Behind the heavy curtains, he knew there would be buildings and people, random cars scurrying from one place to the next, either trying to get away from the storm or reveling in the suddenly changed world because of it. Did Americans really enjoy dancing in the rain?
He padded over the the night stand, bare feet enjoying the feel of soft carpet as he passed over the usual black silk handkerchief and opted for a thick leather band instead, strapping it onto his wrist. The dark brown leather wrist-let was good for holding pencils and pens while he was sketching and of course also covered the tattooed name of his own province, one which had long ago fallen into disuse except in textbooks. He had the characters re-tattooed every few years though, the inked kanji letters a promise and reminder of what he'd lost and where he'd come from. Out of his entire clan, he'd always been the most emotionally bound to the past, a fact that many of the others he knew had teased and sometimes mocked him for. How ironic it was that he would be one of the few to leave their motherland.
Pulling on a loose long-sleeved shirt, he slipped his feet into a pair of white converses, the low-tops comfortably worn, just as he liked them. The storm continued outside, the rain a noisy soundtrack as he prepared himself and his art supplies. He did not particularly feel like leaving today, not when he'd already fed and the rain outside was not going to let up for a while. He did not particularly feel in the mood to paint or work in his room either. Perhaps he would go sit in the garden and draw designs to the sound of distant angry skies, or sit in the commons room doing charcoal sketches of the comings and goings there. There was time and he was in no particular hurry. That was one thing he'd learned since he'd been turned. For the undead, you had all the time you needed.