Post by Maximilien on Jul 24, 2007 20:37:40 GMT
The sun had set a few hours ago, and Maximilien rose from his slumber. He was awful at waking early, but after decades of dealing with it he had become good at planning around it. Tonight some of his more subdued works were on exposition in a special club, and he was planning to make a special uninvited appearance. He dressed in some of his clean clothes and walked out of his apartment.
Hopping into his car, he drove to the club. No one there would know what he looked like and his slightly flushed skin and natural breathing allowed him to pass as a human. He slipped the bounce the invitation he had recieved for being the artist and walked in. He made his way into the middle of the club, listening to the soft classical music emanating from everywhere. He enjoyed how everyone looked at his paintings with interesting. He decided to pay a visit to his favorite among all the paintings. This painting was of the trenches during WW1, but it was more that that. It showed those trenches as what they really were: a hell on Earth where demons rejoiced and angels lost their wings.
Hopping into his car, he drove to the club. No one there would know what he looked like and his slightly flushed skin and natural breathing allowed him to pass as a human. He slipped the bounce the invitation he had recieved for being the artist and walked in. He made his way into the middle of the club, listening to the soft classical music emanating from everywhere. He enjoyed how everyone looked at his paintings with interesting. He decided to pay a visit to his favorite among all the paintings. This painting was of the trenches during WW1, but it was more that that. It showed those trenches as what they really were: a hell on Earth where demons rejoiced and angels lost their wings.