Queen of the Riverboats {Meg||Open}
Feb 4, 2010 1:55:35 GMT -5
Post by gracey on Feb 4, 2010 1:55:35 GMT -5
(Sorry that this took so long to make. ^^; )
A pale, almost effeminate hand just barely ghosted over the handrail of the vessel. Cerulean eyes looked up to study the craftsmanship and the black plumes of smoke that billowed out of the stacks. Those bright eyes half lidding, a small, nostalgic smiles graced the man's pale features.
Nostalgia and familiarity was always welcomed to the experienced ghost. He had spent too many of his living days looking up the bizarre and unfamiliar. Now especially, in this new world that he had stumbled into, seeing something as homespun as a steam riverboat brought him relief. His Mansion lied right by a swamp and near the bayou that he often saw these majestic works of engineering chug their way down. It brought a short chuckle out of him to notice that this strange replica of his home was also by a river than contained a steamboat. He had never seen something that could be so different, yet so similar at the same time.
He watched the waters as they went by. The boat was ending its first round about the Rivers of America. The trip was rather leisurely and relaxing, so the Master figured that another round would not hurt. After all, he had time on his side.
He watched as old passengers departed and new ones boarded. He stepped back into the shade of the deck above him, out of the way of any possible children that thought it suitable to rush around the decks of the boat. He found a small collection of chairs towards one of the cabins in the center of the vessel. His halo fluctuated around him in a short, erratic dance as his entire form became tangible. He sat down neatly in the chair and reclined back. He folded his legs at the knee and crosses his arms over his chest. The faint smile still graced his features as he looked about, observing the mortals and the surroundings of another beautiful day at the park.
A pale, almost effeminate hand just barely ghosted over the handrail of the vessel. Cerulean eyes looked up to study the craftsmanship and the black plumes of smoke that billowed out of the stacks. Those bright eyes half lidding, a small, nostalgic smiles graced the man's pale features.
Nostalgia and familiarity was always welcomed to the experienced ghost. He had spent too many of his living days looking up the bizarre and unfamiliar. Now especially, in this new world that he had stumbled into, seeing something as homespun as a steam riverboat brought him relief. His Mansion lied right by a swamp and near the bayou that he often saw these majestic works of engineering chug their way down. It brought a short chuckle out of him to notice that this strange replica of his home was also by a river than contained a steamboat. He had never seen something that could be so different, yet so similar at the same time.
He watched the waters as they went by. The boat was ending its first round about the Rivers of America. The trip was rather leisurely and relaxing, so the Master figured that another round would not hurt. After all, he had time on his side.
He watched as old passengers departed and new ones boarded. He stepped back into the shade of the deck above him, out of the way of any possible children that thought it suitable to rush around the decks of the boat. He found a small collection of chairs towards one of the cabins in the center of the vessel. His halo fluctuated around him in a short, erratic dance as his entire form became tangible. He sat down neatly in the chair and reclined back. He folded his legs at the knee and crosses his arms over his chest. The faint smile still graced his features as he looked about, observing the mortals and the surroundings of another beautiful day at the park.