an act of brevity
Jun 29, 2020 15:04:02 GMT -5
Post by Aristotle Foxblood on Jun 29, 2020 15:04:02 GMT -5
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 | [attr="class","LYRICS1"]but the real tragedy of life is [attr="class","LYRICS2"]when men are afraid of the light. |
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The New York Institute’s Sanctuary, like all of its counterparts, had been an afterthought. Built later and on unhallowed grounds, its walls were newer but just as weathered. Fortunately for Shadowhunters, it was as far as an unwelcomed Downworlder could get to an Institute. And for those who were welcomed, it was a place to conduct all sorts of business. But for one particular Shadowhunter, it was the best place for miles to finally finish and send off a slightly overdue report.
Aristotle Foxblood was without a care about the world, now that his report had been typed up and emailed off. Settled in an alcove, he was nestled more comfortably than you’d expect of a guy with his muscle mass. And in hand, he held Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. He’d only just started it, but he was already three chapters in and utterly hooked with Miss Shelley’s writing. Ares was also very convinced that Miss Shelley had been a part of the Shadow World. A Downworlder was his first guest, but as he read on, a mundane with the Sight made more sense.
And that made a world of sense to Ares, being a former Sighted Mundane, himself. Before choosing to Ascend, be was bound for university with a literature degree in mind. Given all that he’d seen, it’d sparked some creativity in him. He might have been able to publish a moderately successful one-off before finding work as an editor, or something. It would have been amazing to become the next big hit, but the former just seemed more realistic, if a little disheartening.
Still, he had no regrets about Ascending over a decade ago. Ares turned the page with the confidence of someone who was completely comfortable in his own skin. After all, this was the life he’d chosen for himself over a decade ago. Even though it was a demanding one, with a life expectancy that was unpredictable at best, it was better than the alternative. And besides, he was an exceptional Shadowhunter. Others might be inclined to agree, if not for his relations with Downworlders. Which is why he’d taken up temporary residence in the Sanctuary.
Ares, who was in danger of making himself an outcast, decided against putting two assholes in their place. It was the smarter option with the head of the Institute within earshot. A good book and hiding out in the one place that most preferred to avoid just seemed like the better idea, for now.
The New York Institute’s Sanctuary, like all of its counterparts, had been an afterthought. Built later and on unhallowed grounds, its walls were newer but just as weathered. Fortunately for Shadowhunters, it was as far as an unwelcomed Downworlder could get to an Institute. And for those who were welcomed, it was a place to conduct all sorts of business. But for one particular Shadowhunter, it was the best place for miles to finally finish and send off a slightly overdue report.
Aristotle Foxblood was without a care about the world, now that his report had been typed up and emailed off. Settled in an alcove, he was nestled more comfortably than you’d expect of a guy with his muscle mass. And in hand, he held Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. He’d only just started it, but he was already three chapters in and utterly hooked with Miss Shelley’s writing. Ares was also very convinced that Miss Shelley had been a part of the Shadow World. A Downworlder was his first guest, but as he read on, a mundane with the Sight made more sense.
And that made a world of sense to Ares, being a former Sighted Mundane, himself. Before choosing to Ascend, be was bound for university with a literature degree in mind. Given all that he’d seen, it’d sparked some creativity in him. He might have been able to publish a moderately successful one-off before finding work as an editor, or something. It would have been amazing to become the next big hit, but the former just seemed more realistic, if a little disheartening.
Still, he had no regrets about Ascending over a decade ago. Ares turned the page with the confidence of someone who was completely comfortable in his own skin. After all, this was the life he’d chosen for himself over a decade ago. Even though it was a demanding one, with a life expectancy that was unpredictable at best, it was better than the alternative. And besides, he was an exceptional Shadowhunter. Others might be inclined to agree, if not for his relations with Downworlders. Which is why he’d taken up temporary residence in the Sanctuary.
Ares, who was in danger of making himself an outcast, decided against putting two assholes in their place. It was the smarter option with the head of the Institute within earshot. A good book and hiding out in the one place that most preferred to avoid just seemed like the better idea, for now.
[attr="class","TAG"]TAG: Scarlet Spiegelseele
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