Kyler Drayke, Marco N
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It’s pretty naughty to think what a mud I’d gotten myself into by the time my conversation started. I was so nervous; my tummy was churning. I kept saying myself that nothing was worth this level of anxiety. If I was right for The Order, they’d observe my potential and sign me up as an Apprentice. There was nothing in God’s name that I’d be able to do to switch their minds once they were made up. But then, my own mind commenced frolicking tricks. If I presented as some sort of neurotic snowflake, I’d immediately put them off and I’d be back on that instruct to nowhere before I could fill my bags. And, of course, the more I attempted to struggle the nerves, the more jumpy I became. I ambled into the chamber and was nearly blinded. Sunlight was streaming in thru the whitest of white, floor-to-ceiling curtains which covered every wall. And sitting in the middle of the space, on a fancy platinum chair, was a fellow I assumed was Tormentor Drayke. He was dressed downright in white, in a gorgeously fitted suit, which seemed to cling to his body, complimenting every one of his features. He was dark-skinned and dark-eyed. His forehead was etched with lines, which gave him a quality of sternness I have seldom found myself so immediately drawn to. There was something about him which thrilled me deeply.
It’s pretty naughty to think what a mud I’d gotten myself into by the time my conversation started. I was so nervous; my tummy was churning. I kept saying myself that nothing was worth this level of anxiety. If I was right for The Order, they’d observe my potential and sign me up as an Apprentice. There was nothing in God’s name that I’d be able to do to switch their minds once they were made up. But then, my own mind commenced frolicking tricks. If I presented as some sort of neurotic snowflake, I’d immediately put them off and I’d be back on that instruct to nowhere before I could fill my bags. And, of course, the more I attempted to struggle the nerves, the more jumpy I became. I ambled into the chamber and was nearly blinded. Sunlight was streaming in thru the whitest of white, floor-to-ceiling curtains which covered every wall. And sitting in the middle of the space, on a fancy platinum chair, was a fellow I assumed was Tormentor Drayke. He was dressed downright in white, in a gorgeously fitted suit, which seemed to cling to his body, complimenting every one of his features. He was dark-skinned and dark-eyed. His forehead was etched with lines, which gave him a quality of sternness I have seldom found myself so immediately drawn to. There was something about him which thrilled me deeply.
Added: 2024-03-30 • Views: 8 • Duration: 46:13