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Mar. 15th, 2016 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i_am_your_hostA short while ago, the Master of Ceremonies received something from Abe no Seimei via the bar. It was a poem written in German, in beautiful calligraphy, on a white-flecked sheet of blue paper. It read:
Like the fisherman's boat,
I must depart with the rising sun.
But keep a beacon burning for me
On the shore,
And some twilight,
I shall return.
Well, that was one of the nicest morning-after notes he'd ever received. He kept it in one of the drawers in his vanity table upstairs in his room.
Tonight, Emcee is lounging at a table, a combat-booted foot propped up almost indecently on a chair. Almost indecently, because he's wearing the leather kilt he wore to Bonnie's wedding.
Otherwise clad in just a white, sleeveless undershirt, he has very little makeup on besides his usual smoky eyeliner. While he takes intermittent sips from a glass of red wine, he busies himself with re-painting his fingernails silver.
Like the fisherman's boat,
I must depart with the rising sun.
But keep a beacon burning for me
On the shore,
And some twilight,
I shall return.
Well, that was one of the nicest morning-after notes he'd ever received. He kept it in one of the drawers in his vanity table upstairs in his room.
Tonight, Emcee is lounging at a table, a combat-booted foot propped up almost indecently on a chair. Almost indecently, because he's wearing the leather kilt he wore to Bonnie's wedding.
Otherwise clad in just a white, sleeveless undershirt, he has very little makeup on besides his usual smoky eyeliner. While he takes intermittent sips from a glass of red wine, he busies himself with re-painting his fingernails silver.
