sm_monthly Dec 24 theme
Dec. 29th, 2006 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
purplekitteMore Nephrite/Naru.
Title: Real
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
purplekitte
Theme: Shitennou--Image
Genre: Romance
Version: Anime
Rating: PG
The life of a high-class socialite was not so different from that of a Shitennou of the Dark Kingdom. Arrogant and secluded or arrogant while dancing a verbal duel through the rich and influential of the human realms.
Not that Nephrite liked humans any more than he did youma.
There was that car, though; the Dark Kingdom didn’t have anything like that car.
There was a certain elegance in people who lived only for stylishness and appearance, no matter how artificial.
The world seemed too vivid sometimes here, he thought over a cigar and a cup of coffee. Too textured. Like a trump l’oi painting that looked too real to be true.
The coffee was too rich, too bitter, too sweet all at once. The cigar--he still couldn’t see why humans would touch the things.
His mind refused to settle on world affairs or the chess pieces of elegantly carved crystal like ice or even his mission from Beryl. Everything became distant, ghostlike, irrelevant when faced with the memory of green eyes.
Title: Real
Author:
purplekitteTheme: Shitennou--Image
Genre: Romance
Version: Anime
Rating: PG
The life of a high-class socialite was not so different from that of a Shitennou of the Dark Kingdom. Arrogant and secluded or arrogant while dancing a verbal duel through the rich and influential of the human realms.
Not that Nephrite liked humans any more than he did youma.
There was that car, though; the Dark Kingdom didn’t have anything like that car.
There was a certain elegance in people who lived only for stylishness and appearance, no matter how artificial.
The world seemed too vivid sometimes here, he thought over a cigar and a cup of coffee. Too textured. Like a trump l’oi painting that looked too real to be true.
The coffee was too rich, too bitter, too sweet all at once. The cigar--he still couldn’t see why humans would touch the things.
His mind refused to settle on world affairs or the chess pieces of elegantly carved crystal like ice or even his mission from Beryl. Everything became distant, ghostlike, irrelevant when faced with the memory of green eyes.
