Information

Knell has a minion!

Minion the Blue Lovebird

Knell
Legacy Name: Knell_654

The

Angelic Paralix
Owner:

Tattered

Age: 16 years, 4 months, 2 weeks

Born: December 22nd, 2007

Adopted: 16 years, 4 months, 2 weeks ago (Legacy)

Adopted: December 22nd, 2007 (Legacy)

Statistics

Level: 7
Strength: 14
Defense: 14
Speed: 14
Health: 15
HP: 15/15
Intelligence: 0
Books Read: 0
Food Eaten: 1
Job: Unemployed

He didn't like the way his sleeve rubbed against his wrist.

At once his mind capsized and his words desperately swam to shore, slurring and dragging out in babbled incoherence. Without regard to where and why his body rebelled against every attempt at blah blah blah. His hands clamped over his eyes and dragged downward; down his front to claw at the invisible bindings that constricted his chest. In that moment he was dying; his every breath choked and gasped between the frenzied thumps of his racing heart. The world around him spun and pulsed, darting away from his grasp as he groped desperately for a shred of stability.

He didn't like the way his sleeve rubbed against his wrist.

The city, crowded daily and positively bursting on such an occasion where metal gates and giant orange tubs barricaded the road for pedestrians to peruse the fanciful booths within that day's festival, had all but swallowed Knell whole upon his arrival, eager to drain his wallet and patience and fuel the graying fog that threatened to fray the very edges of his tranquility. With unspoken reluctance he'd entered a gilded tower--second tallest in the city's skyline--and boarded the crowded elevator in which he now found himself held hostage. His arm pressed against the wall, forced aside by the mass of restless, fidgeting businessmen and women.

Immediately, his unaffected arm began to pulse and tense, aching as a force unseen clawed and pulled and threatened to rip the limb from its socket. Fists clenched he made attempt to rotate his body to where both arms made equal contact with the wall, but a stray elbow jolted him back into place. He shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the glowing red floor numbers beside the elevator door with increasing desperation. Dreadful, panicked thoughts flooded Knell's mind while he glanced around for some imaginary means of escape.

Salvation finally came in form of a ring of a bell and the heavy yielding of metal doors. The crowd surged forward, eager to be relieved of their time spent amongst impatient strangers; none so much as Knell, however. Practically bolting out of the metallic prison, Knell darted into the first restroom within reach--fortunately for him, the men's room--and locked himself within a vacant stall. He slumped against the door, arms outstretched to brace against the surrounding walls and head turned downward as he struggled to steady his hurried breaths. As he pressed both arms firmly against the unsteady surfaces, his pounding heart slowed to its former, healthy rhythm and his eyes closed in relief.

His sound senses and mind returned, and his cheeks flooded with embarrassment. Gracelessly, he straightened his back, smoothed out the wrinkles in his suit, and pushed out of the stall. As he preened and reassessed his appearance in the mirror, his eyes wandered to the sleeve of his right arm. He sneered at the offending limb, and waltzed pointedly back out into the hall, forcing the irrational behaviors and thoughts he'd hosted several minutes previous into the deepest recesses of his mind.

He was ashamed.

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