Post by V on Apr 3, 2006 13:09:06 GMT -5
The lights around the mirror glowed dimly. The owner of it didn't need much to see what he was doing. He hadn't gone near it yet. Not yet. First his shirt, then his pants would go on. Delicately but swiftly he moved. He hated this part. The transformation. gazing upon the shell of burned skin that was not his. That was not him. The black silk was his dominion.
He sat in his chair in front of the mirror, his back to it. Not yet. On went the boots, he ran his hand down them to straighten th leather. His gloves slipped over the flaky red palms. The wig came off the foam head and found one of flesh.
The porcelain representation of Guy Fawkes starred smiling empty at a face unspeakable. Now
His eyes darted into the mirror as he dawned the mask, his true face.
V stood and retrieved his holstered leather straps, is knives in place. He tossed the straps over is arm and snapped them in like a military man. The cloak found his shoulders and the, his head.
"To thine own self be true."
He sat in his chair in front of the mirror, his back to it. Not yet. On went the boots, he ran his hand down them to straighten th leather. His gloves slipped over the flaky red palms. The wig came off the foam head and found one of flesh.
The porcelain representation of Guy Fawkes starred smiling empty at a face unspeakable. Now
His eyes darted into the mirror as he dawned the mask, his true face.
V stood and retrieved his holstered leather straps, is knives in place. He tossed the straps over is arm and snapped them in like a military man. The cloak found his shoulders and the, his head.
"To thine own self be true."
