The clockwork orange so feared. -- Library

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Date Posted: 06:11:55 06/20/02 Thu
Author: Julian Emberson
Subject: The clockwork orange so feared.
In reply to: Draco Malfoy 's message, "Re: .:: When the spirit is so digital, the body acts this way. ::." on 04:07:21 06/20/02 Thu

Julian smiled broadly, mirroring the maniacal grin but with a lack of the insanity meant to fit within a pair of lips. The rest of the world seemed to block out for a moment as the words took Julian over, satisfied with what the words had done. He was right when he said they were just the same. The character shaped to be someone he wanted to be was what Draco was. The one Julian strived to be, the equal he sought to replace the hero in his story. Every second that passed melted into the other�s voice, and Julian happily listened. His disheveled locks wisped across his eyes as they were nonchalantly set on the reciting other, who was nearly finished by the time Julian spoke again.

�Well,� Julian said, his smile situating into a smirk. �You learn something new every day.� He mocked mischievously. He chuckled through his smirk, letting his swoop over to the small, leather-bound book he�d formerly put down upon the stack of larger books. He looked thoughtfully at it before returning his green-eyed gaze to Draco, appreciative of his knowledge. �I guess you wouldn�t want this,� He said with a small laugh, bringing the book to his other hand and flipping through the pages. He stopped, eyeing Draco straight in the eye, putting false effort into intimidation. He was being comical in all his seriousness, sly smile dressing his face.

�After all� How should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any �lifted from the no of all nothing �human merely being doubt unimaginably you?�

That was from a poet far more destructive and rousing to Julian�s character than Frost could have ever been. Each word reminded him of the emotion he had wanted to feel welling up inside him. They described the being of passion that would be Julian, the words of becoming and living and thinking of death. He reached up to brush his hair back and pull up the falling collar of the shirt he wore. With an excessive toss of his head, he turned back �round and seated himself again, feet back up and crossed upon the table. It was a pretentious position for reading that he liked.

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Replies:

I wasted my time -- Claire Rieera, 08:56:33 06/24/02 Mon