http://blond-egoist.livejournal.com/ (
blond-egoist.livejournal.com) wrote in
paixaorpg2006-05-16 06:03 pm
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Entry tags:
An Eccentric Entrance [Active]
Character(s): Tamaki, and anyone else who would like to poke fun at the poor host.
Content: Tamaki arrives in Paixao and proceeds to fret.
Setting: The Niflheim Gate.
Time: Late Sunday Afternoon
Warnings: Uh... extreme narcissism?
Content: Tamaki arrives in Paixao and proceeds to fret.
Setting: The Niflheim Gate.
Time: Late Sunday Afternoon
Warnings: Uh... extreme narcissism?
At first, Tamaki had thought this was another of Kyoya's family's resorts. The extensive line and flashy gateway just screamed of a moneymaking gimmick. So he was content to play the game the commoners called "waiting in line" with more enthusiasm than the surrounding people found appropriate. But Tamaki remained oblivious to the various odd looks cast his way.
The handsome youth did not take much notice when the man who was apparently taking tickets waved his money away. He was, after all, an easy face to recognize, and a friend of Kyoya's, at that. The only thing that struck the poor fool as odd, really, was that, after being showered with gifts in the forms of pamphlets and a rather odd gadget, he was asked his name.
"Surely you must know it?" Tamaki asked incredulously, posing his most elegantly, just in case the man at the gate was a little slow. Tamaki figured he must have been, as the gatekeeper continued to stare blankly and demanded Tamaki's name once more.
Tamaki gifted the poor commoner with his name, adding in an extra little flourish, and was slightly put off when he was merely waved through the monstrous doors. If it hadn't been for a few distant squeals at his gracious treatment of the gatekeeper, he would surely have found a corner to sulk in. But, with the adoring praise of faceless women, he was able to trudge forth, pouting only slightly.
The sight beyond the shimmering gate would have caused only those used to greatly excessive lavishness to balk so violently as Tamaki did. Though the setting was hardly the most sordid of locales, it appeared inhospitable to the naive youth. The middle class establishments looked like huts to him, and he wondered why anybody even bothered to keep them standing. The bustle of people was just as curious to Tamaki, and he was jostled about as he stood in slight awe.
He found a bench to sit upon to just watch the late afternoon activity in fascination. He wept for the passing trash collectors, misunderstanding their motives in emptying trash bins. He clapped in foolish delight as he witnessed a game of tag. And, in a small attempt to feel more at home, he gifted every passing lady with a dashing smile, and was glad that the action received just as much adoration as ever.
The handsome youth did not take much notice when the man who was apparently taking tickets waved his money away. He was, after all, an easy face to recognize, and a friend of Kyoya's, at that. The only thing that struck the poor fool as odd, really, was that, after being showered with gifts in the forms of pamphlets and a rather odd gadget, he was asked his name.
"Surely you must know it?" Tamaki asked incredulously, posing his most elegantly, just in case the man at the gate was a little slow. Tamaki figured he must have been, as the gatekeeper continued to stare blankly and demanded Tamaki's name once more.
Tamaki gifted the poor commoner with his name, adding in an extra little flourish, and was slightly put off when he was merely waved through the monstrous doors. If it hadn't been for a few distant squeals at his gracious treatment of the gatekeeper, he would surely have found a corner to sulk in. But, with the adoring praise of faceless women, he was able to trudge forth, pouting only slightly.
The sight beyond the shimmering gate would have caused only those used to greatly excessive lavishness to balk so violently as Tamaki did. Though the setting was hardly the most sordid of locales, it appeared inhospitable to the naive youth. The middle class establishments looked like huts to him, and he wondered why anybody even bothered to keep them standing. The bustle of people was just as curious to Tamaki, and he was jostled about as he stood in slight awe.
He found a bench to sit upon to just watch the late afternoon activity in fascination. He wept for the passing trash collectors, misunderstanding their motives in emptying trash bins. He clapped in foolish delight as he witnessed a game of tag. And, in a small attempt to feel more at home, he gifted every passing lady with a dashing smile, and was glad that the action received just as much adoration as ever.