Post by Nine on Jul 5, 2018 17:57:06 GMT -5
He can hear the sizzling - those Bacons, you know. Not from his own senses, but through machines. His eyes wandered over to the kitchen with a deep gleam. It had been forty-six hours since he last had a sleep and no where near prepared for his next eventful crash. It was 8:42 and 51 seconds in the morning as the machines commanded. Technology, man. It had been fourteen years since his awakening and, at first, was a gentle comfort but as Robert grew to a man, the comfort become an irritant scratch, like crown of stinging nettles woven tightly around his head - Hail to the King.
Sizzle. Splash. Sizzle.
The Bacon had company. The egg slowly spreads out to a crescent like voluptuous woman spreading herself on bed. He exhaled. He wanted poached eggs but the fight within him was hardly there. The world moved on, the people in Karakura Spiritual Network moved on and one meagre failure and he gave up. He packed it all in and wandered throughout the city like a restless ghoul. He felt stronger than he was in the past and not a single thing had changed.
“Coffee,” He beckoned restlessly. It was a British themed Café, one of its kind in this town. He pushed the mug forward and to the edge for its eventual pour. The ambience of the small room was hushed, only a small screech and scratch of wooden legs rubbing off the faded floor. Perfect for the meek soul to reminiscence the err of his ways. 32 years of age and he hadn’t changed. In all his five years of wandering he still looked the same.
‘What can I do today,’ toaster did it deed and delivered the piping hot bread, seared on surface. It doesn’t need technology to vividly think of words to describe the aromatic cocktail of breakfast mixed together. Mushroom and tomato cut in halves to dive flat first into the oiled skillet and bloomed with the mixture of herbs. He righted himself on the chair and leaned forward, unfolding the paper. Redundant when you have the whole world signalling, but a sense of normality was all he craved for. Mouth salivating as a gust of hot heat laced with stench of cooked meat bathed in oil and herbs. The bacon starts to curl, and the mushroom browned. Nine opened the newspaper with intention to look for jobs. It’s all a front, he had enough money to keep him alive. With his power he could live like kings, but it brings up unwanted attention. With all that power surge through his tempered mind, Nine could only lament at the ruination it brings if pressed far beyond his needs.
His head slump, his spine slowly arching forward. ”Boy,” he drawled. Tell a lie, the inactivity lately had hastened the need for slumber. Only coffee or a sudden noise could spark him from a spiraling drowse.
[512]
