Stars and skirts.
Week Name/Date/Time: 'The Minister is Elected' / Thurs, Nov 10 / 5:48 pm
Location: Grounds
Open to: Jory
Currently involving: Dex
What was it they said? Talk is cheap and Time is money and other such expressions that verged on the threshold of proverbdom but never quite made it. Dex supposed it was because they represented too much of the truth in human nature and not the elevation that proverbs were meant to induce. To inspire the human race above their everyday atrocities and mediocrity, to something pure and good. But that was all relative. Even truth was relative. Truth was in the hands of the the one who won the battle. Those who got to write the history. There was something a smart and very mad Frenchman had once said, however, that Dex held above most expressions and proverbs. In order to know virtue we must acquaint ourselves with vice. Only then can we know the full measure of Man. Dex had a certain idea that the Marquis de Sade was not really so mad. And if he was, Dex had another certain idea that to be mad was a much better thing than to be sane.
Several other people had a certain idea that Dex was quite mad, himself.
He lay on his back atop a long stone bench on the edge of the north gardens giving way to the expanse of castle grounds. Dusk and Twilight picked up their skirts and draped them like crinoline lampshades or very fine frocks across the sky. And here was Dex, peeking up under them for all his pleasure. The first stars of the evening winked wantonly down at him, their finery amplified by the dying fire of the Sun who could no longer be seen behind the mountains. It was already quite cold, but Dex paid the chill no mind. He was busy being solicited by stars and skirts.
"You'll have it that way then, will you?" he murmured aloud. Slowly, he reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out his most precious pair of scissors, which were always on his person. They, too, twinkled as if in answer to the call of the stars. He snipped them into the wind; they gave a satisfying slice, as if they took a bite out of the evening. He chewed on it for a bit.
Location: Grounds
Open to: Jory
Currently involving: Dex
What was it they said? Talk is cheap and Time is money and other such expressions that verged on the threshold of proverbdom but never quite made it. Dex supposed it was because they represented too much of the truth in human nature and not the elevation that proverbs were meant to induce. To inspire the human race above their everyday atrocities and mediocrity, to something pure and good. But that was all relative. Even truth was relative. Truth was in the hands of the the one who won the battle. Those who got to write the history. There was something a smart and very mad Frenchman had once said, however, that Dex held above most expressions and proverbs. In order to know virtue we must acquaint ourselves with vice. Only then can we know the full measure of Man. Dex had a certain idea that the Marquis de Sade was not really so mad. And if he was, Dex had another certain idea that to be mad was a much better thing than to be sane.
Several other people had a certain idea that Dex was quite mad, himself.
He lay on his back atop a long stone bench on the edge of the north gardens giving way to the expanse of castle grounds. Dusk and Twilight picked up their skirts and draped them like crinoline lampshades or very fine frocks across the sky. And here was Dex, peeking up under them for all his pleasure. The first stars of the evening winked wantonly down at him, their finery amplified by the dying fire of the Sun who could no longer be seen behind the mountains. It was already quite cold, but Dex paid the chill no mind. He was busy being solicited by stars and skirts.
"You'll have it that way then, will you?" he murmured aloud. Slowly, he reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out his most precious pair of scissors, which were always on his person. They, too, twinkled as if in answer to the call of the stars. He snipped them into the wind; they gave a satisfying slice, as if they took a bite out of the evening. He chewed on it for a bit.