Post by PAUL VINCENT TYLER on Oct 3, 2012 18:30:30 GMT -5
A certain scent hung in the air; a mixture of cleaning agents and a mildew that could not be dusted away. The writing on the walls acted as visual representation of his emotions. It felt entirely too indicative to be here in this moment. This thought provoked a desire to leave the lavatories and head back to his room and yet his feet remained in place; his hands enduring the strength of the ceramic sink. In the foggy mirror he could see a distorted version of his reflection; the tense lines of his adolescent face, the seedy emotions that danced along those bright sapphire eyes. Dirty blonde hair tickled his wrinkled brow and his orbs searched for life inside the mirror. Perhaps if his past had been different Ty would have turned out to be something more, something great…but alas things are rarely as perfect as that. Had his Father been a different person perhaps his life could have been just a twinge different…so much would be enough for Ty to have been a different person entirely…or so he thought.
A honey glazed hand reached upward and tenderly touched the reflection that stared back at him. The cold of the pane was enough to send a shock through his arm and down his spine and he shivered in its wake. An eerie quiet was surrounding him in the bathroom, something akin to the silence one feels when lost in a dense wood. Somehow Ty was able to feel utterly alone when in a facility made up of hundreds. Surely he could confide in someone, somewhere in this place.
Ty focused on the blue inside of his orbs; they danced like marbles in a string of white light. Near the iris an ash color was flecked as if an artist had deemed him worthy of a splash of paint. His fingertips trace the outline of his face and he watched as dirt was relinquished from the surface of his reflection.
Very suddenly he dropped his arm and lowered his gaze to the sink stained with age and use. A deep sigh rose upward from his lungs and parted his deep rose lips.
I need a drink… He thought while heaving another great sigh into the mouth of the basin. A shiver of compulsion slipped along his spine and regret fell into his head. How long had it been since he had taken his last sip? How long would it be until again he got that refreshing taste that took away the constant retention? It was a malady, something that could not be escaped even now in the thralls of this asylum bathroom.
Ty turned the knob and out came cold water through the tap; he watched the flowing of white for a simple moment before shoving his hands under and feeling the snapping chill of ice cold insipid. It was a sort of refreshment that even alcohol could not give. Another moment and his head lowered to the sink while his hands rose upward and the water splashed along his face covering the stern features with convalescence. Ignoble he was of this blessing of fresh cool water but he took the time to splash his visage greedily again and again until the condensations had run down his neck and darkened his crimson shirt. Short sleeves gripped at the muscles that lay along his arms and clung easily to the rest of his athletic frame while droplets streamed down the lines of his collarbone. A masterpiece his body was on the outside at least whereas in he knew that he was damaged. Something had to give right? Ty could not be perfect after all.
His eyes bounced along outlines of his reflection as if he was attempting to pin-point the feature that could best prevaricate and addle someone from the truth. He found very easily that his eyes conveyed nothing but abysmal questions and that provoked a sly grin across the lips of this man; an amatory image of Ty if anyone ever saw it.
Wc; 676
Ooc; Tagging Ty and Cosette
A honey glazed hand reached upward and tenderly touched the reflection that stared back at him. The cold of the pane was enough to send a shock through his arm and down his spine and he shivered in its wake. An eerie quiet was surrounding him in the bathroom, something akin to the silence one feels when lost in a dense wood. Somehow Ty was able to feel utterly alone when in a facility made up of hundreds. Surely he could confide in someone, somewhere in this place.
Ty focused on the blue inside of his orbs; they danced like marbles in a string of white light. Near the iris an ash color was flecked as if an artist had deemed him worthy of a splash of paint. His fingertips trace the outline of his face and he watched as dirt was relinquished from the surface of his reflection.
Very suddenly he dropped his arm and lowered his gaze to the sink stained with age and use. A deep sigh rose upward from his lungs and parted his deep rose lips.
I need a drink… He thought while heaving another great sigh into the mouth of the basin. A shiver of compulsion slipped along his spine and regret fell into his head. How long had it been since he had taken his last sip? How long would it be until again he got that refreshing taste that took away the constant retention? It was a malady, something that could not be escaped even now in the thralls of this asylum bathroom.
Ty turned the knob and out came cold water through the tap; he watched the flowing of white for a simple moment before shoving his hands under and feeling the snapping chill of ice cold insipid. It was a sort of refreshment that even alcohol could not give. Another moment and his head lowered to the sink while his hands rose upward and the water splashed along his face covering the stern features with convalescence. Ignoble he was of this blessing of fresh cool water but he took the time to splash his visage greedily again and again until the condensations had run down his neck and darkened his crimson shirt. Short sleeves gripped at the muscles that lay along his arms and clung easily to the rest of his athletic frame while droplets streamed down the lines of his collarbone. A masterpiece his body was on the outside at least whereas in he knew that he was damaged. Something had to give right? Ty could not be perfect after all.
His eyes bounced along outlines of his reflection as if he was attempting to pin-point the feature that could best prevaricate and addle someone from the truth. He found very easily that his eyes conveyed nothing but abysmal questions and that provoked a sly grin across the lips of this man; an amatory image of Ty if anyone ever saw it.
Wc; 676
Ooc; Tagging Ty and Cosette
