Apprentice Sage Roux, Chapter 1: The Dialogue 1080p
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I can’t embark to explain how appalled I was when I ambled into the room. Everything was gleaming and white; so milky that it took my eyes several moments to adjust to what I was seeing. Sir Stone sat in the space alone, dressed smartly in a pristine alabaster suit. I stood at the door for a moment, not knowing what to do, somewhat mesmerized by the floor-to-ceiling milky curtains billowing delicately in the early spring breeze. He taught me to sit down; his voice sounding a little terse. I assumed he was irritated that he’d needed to give me such an evident instruction. I sensed beads of sweat prickling on my forehead and my facehole went dry. I sat on the stool next to him, abruptly perceiving self-conscious and shabbily dressed, despite having spent what sensed like forever attempting to get my bind to sight just so in the mirror. He reeked expensive. He looked expensive. There wasn’t a hair out of place on his head. Even his stubble looked well-groomed. I didn’t know why I was there. They said it was an interview, and they said there was nothing I could do to get ready for it. I just had to be there, on time, looking as acute as possible. Sir Stone told me I needed to be totally fair with him, which instantaneously made me sense like I’d done something wrong. He seemed aware of this, but wished me to admit to whatever I was guilty of in my own words. I racked my brain to invent past misdemeanors, but I was too jumpy to process thoughts. His voice was low, resonant.
I can’t embark to explain how appalled I was when I ambled into the room. Everything was gleaming and white; so milky that it took my eyes several moments to adjust to what I was seeing. Sir Stone sat in the space alone, dressed smartly in a pristine alabaster suit. I stood at the door for a moment, not knowing what to do, somewhat mesmerized by the floor-to-ceiling milky curtains billowing delicately in the early spring breeze. He taught me to sit down; his voice sounding a little terse. I assumed he was irritated that he’d needed to give me such an evident instruction. I sensed beads of sweat prickling on my forehead and my facehole went dry. I sat on the stool next to him, abruptly perceiving self-conscious and shabbily dressed, despite having spent what sensed like forever attempting to get my bind to sight just so in the mirror. He reeked expensive. He looked expensive. There wasn’t a hair out of place on his head. Even his stubble looked well-groomed. I didn’t know why I was there. They said it was an interview, and they said there was nothing I could do to get ready for it. I just had to be there, on time, looking as acute as possible. Sir Stone told me I needed to be totally fair with him, which instantaneously made me sense like I’d done something wrong. He seemed aware of this, but wished me to admit to whatever I was guilty of in my own words. I racked my brain to invent past misdemeanors, but I was too jumpy to process thoughts. His voice was low, resonant.
Added: 2025-03-27 • Views: 13 • Duration: 21:41
