Information
oh you the Shmancy
Suave
Legacy Name: Suave
The
Steamwork KanisOwner:
JoanneAge: 13 years, 5 months, 1 week
Built: November 11th, 2010
Adopted: 13 years, 5 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: November 11th, 2010
Statistics
- Level: 355
- Strength: 887
- Defense: 887
- Speed: 888
- Health: 887
- HP: 878/887
- Intelligence: 657
- Books Read: 653
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Hotel Chain Owner
ARE ♥️Art by User not found: seven
Art by
Choco1 + 2 + 3 + 4!! by
Cupcake- Keys
- Tea
- Painting, watercolour
In the few years I travelled to see the world, I found myself in an impossibly tricky situation. I was heading to visit my auntie. Small woman, refined taste but loathed outsiders. A story for another time though. I arrived at the destination she sent me to - the elevator stated there were nine-hundred and fifty floors. How on earth was this possible? I brushed the thought aside and waited for the elevator that felt like it would never come; it did seem very long when a small, angry woman was waiting for you at the top. Finally the elevator arrived and as I stepped inside, that's when I noticed him.
I always thought these types of men were too polite, too eloquent, too briskly formal to be even remotely interesting. For it was the way he presented himself that was not standoffish yet not entirely inviting one in the vicinity to engage with him. During the first fifty floors, I often felt the urge to speak with him; clear my voice or even to make myself visible to him. I don't believe that he was ignoring me out of spite but that he thought it was impolite to stick his nose in another person's business. Instead of being what I considered courageous and strike up a conversation with this man, I spent those few minutes wondering what he was like. Did he enjoy croissants? Did he, indeed, need those spectacles? I wondered why his hand was sprayed in some sort of black liquid. Was he an extremely fast writer or did he have a penchant for cooking squid?
'Sir,' he spoke to me, 'Sir. May I ask why you are staring at me?'
For all the obvious answers in the world would have taken me a seemingly long time to tell him, I did only what I could in this situation.
'You!' I blurted out, 'Who are you?'
He looked at me quizzically. I assume he thought I was a mad man; one of those delights which you could only find on public transport. Of course, next to him I'm sure this is what I seemed like. I was out of my league next to this man. And it seemed as such that I wasn't even worthy of an answer to my debilitating question.
The edges of his mouth twitched and he chuckled.
'A lot of people seem to ask me these types of questions. Who am I? What do I do? Why am I here? But the questions really are: Who am I not? What don't I do? Why am I not here? For these questions pose the answers to what is true in myself and in all subsequent gentleman. We do not divulge our true secrets but only which is not.'
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