 | "And we who seek to balance pleasure and pain We blow against the wind and spit against the rain" It wasn't that long ago when everything in Novus seemed strange to him. The magic, the telepathy, the parties. It was overwhelming at first and almost vulgar, the decadence of it all. He still sometimes feels out of place at these events, bumping shoulders with strangers instead of swinging fists. They remind him of how humble his origins are. Maybe that is why he turns to drink, perhaps too heavily, until the past doesn't weigh him down so much and the crowds don't feel quite so crowded. The masquerade is almost too beautiful to comprehend, especially after a few of those strange drinks. He's winding through rooms at a slow pace, looking for Isra with one eye and admiring her creations with the other. It is no surprise that he nearly runs into someone, as distracted as he is. "Sorry!" He takes a step back that nearly sends a huge vase crashing to the ground. Eik steps forward again, away from the fragile decor, this time careful not to bump into the black mare. He ducks his head sheepishly, feeling the angry glare of strangers on his back. "Would you like this?" He offers her the goblet half-full of something bubbly and blue. "I think I've had enough for now. It's good though." The gesture is part peace offering, part genuine desire to rid himself of the drink before it disappears into his stomach. "For what could be more real than sweat and dust and sun? And what more sure than night and death and sleep?" |
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Time makes fools of us all
