06-08-2007, 11:58 PM
Colds eyes were lower than they usually sweep, which was about his waist where the average person stood to him. Instead his chin was pressed into the earth, his elbows digging into the soil. The days had shown on his features, his face blemished by the stains of hardened clay given time to conform to his visage. Wearines was in his eyes. Koola stood over him, shaking his head slightly.
"Father has lost it by this point in this lackluster competition," Koola commented. He sighed and folded his arms before his chest. "But I think he's just doing it for the ratings."
"Fuck their ratings." Cold reminded Koola, tugging him downward with an effortless performance on his part.
The mist had been replaced with a cool nonchalant demeanor in the case of the weather. The sun hadn't even begun to peek over the edge of the lands yet.
"Seriously Koola, leg or no leg, we're going to go get something to eat." Cold squirmed to a crouching position, nearly forgetting that his own arm had been lost to Dante's Abyss. Cautiously, he peeked over the hillside and saw no one of threatening demeanor. "And kill people."
"I agree, it is getting rather boring out here." Koola admitted, rubbing his shotgun. "Ah, pristine death rolled into a sleek package of badassery, primed to blow balls off of elephants. I can see why the postal servicemen--"
"Seriously Koola," Cold shaved off whatever was left unsaid. He jabbed a finger at his son. "You're fuckin' narrating it all wrong."
Koola's eye twitched slightly, but just enough for Cold to notice. He snapped back. "And you don't break the fourth wall properly."
"Shuddup Dundee."
"Father has lost it by this point in this lackluster competition," Koola commented. He sighed and folded his arms before his chest. "But I think he's just doing it for the ratings."
"Fuck their ratings." Cold reminded Koola, tugging him downward with an effortless performance on his part.
The mist had been replaced with a cool nonchalant demeanor in the case of the weather. The sun hadn't even begun to peek over the edge of the lands yet.
"Seriously Koola, leg or no leg, we're going to go get something to eat." Cold squirmed to a crouching position, nearly forgetting that his own arm had been lost to Dante's Abyss. Cautiously, he peeked over the hillside and saw no one of threatening demeanor. "And kill people."
"I agree, it is getting rather boring out here." Koola admitted, rubbing his shotgun. "Ah, pristine death rolled into a sleek package of badassery, primed to blow balls off of elephants. I can see why the postal servicemen--"
"Seriously Koola," Cold shaved off whatever was left unsaid. He jabbed a finger at his son. "You're fuckin' narrating it all wrong."
Koola's eye twitched slightly, but just enough for Cold to notice. He snapped back. "And you don't break the fourth wall properly."
"Shuddup Dundee."