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Rorick Skyve
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Morning in Paris, the city awakes

To the bells of Notre Dame

The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes

To the bells of Notre Dame

To the big bells as loud as the thunder

To the little bells soft as a psalm

And some say the soul of the city is

The toll of the bells

The bells of Notre Dame


It was tempting, so very tempting to continue the lyrics in his head. Maxim almost caught himself humming the melody along as well. As stupid as it sounded, that little tune was actually sufficient to lift his mood by a considerable bit. He had thought of it as soon as he had heard the first ring of the bells, echoing from far away. Not just anywhere though, the sound clearly originated from where he had took off, back from the asylum, now that he listened closer. One more reason for him to be glad he had left earlier. Now people would swarm the place all the more, like vultures circling around their dying prey. Not really prey, but he couldn't think of a better term to use.

He smiled a little. There had been others in the distance, as he had crossed the bridge, as he had walked across that eerily yet almost comfortingly empty terrain. He had ignored them and they had either done so as well or simply not spotted him altogether. Either way, it worked out for him. He was still by his own, with the only person he could truly trust around here. Well...almost.

Looking to his right on the bridge earlier, he had seen nothing but ocean. Or sea, whatever hopelessly large body of water had been chosen as their prison. More like a cage, really. Speaking of cage, he had to consider trying to get into one of the many buildings around him, standing out in the open like this was bound to get him into trouble sooner or later.

Once again, he saw himself faced with a choice to make, decide where to go next. Only this time, it seemed the actual decision had to be postponed. Maxim was certain that he was making out movement, not too far away, a sort of crunchy sound, steps. Someone was on their way towards him and fast. Coming from around the corner of the building.

Maxim had almost no time to react, think about what he'd be doing. So in the old tradition of people being caught off-guard, he remained frozen on the spot, his hand tightly clutching his bag. Just in case. Maybe he'd have to try and pull a bluff, depending on who had just decided to drop in at this rather inconvenient moment.
Edited by Rorick Skyve, Sep 4 2016, 06:46 PM.
Peoples and Sheeples for V6
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