Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 4, 2013 22:28:54 GMT -5
One spoke of ludicrously bending the rules of reality. The other stupidly commented on the suit's fashionableness. Oba – he was caught in the middle, having to listen to some variation of himself speak nonsense and the lone human in his company regurgitate what had already been said with, of course, words spiced with a strange flux of idiocy and odiousness. Bringing one's attention to the human's form, his dressings, his mannerisms – or lack there of – there was little doubt that, indeed, he was well off. He was the kind of person Oba detested. Little more than virulent speech with a water-like consistency disgorged from his mouth, staining the very air he certainly did not deserve to breathe with wasted breath. He appeared to be the kind of filth without purpose, without a means of contribution to the rest of the world around him – the kind that, regardless of status, regardless of the illusion that is political power, would die a painful, indigent death – likely not by his own hands, but certainly, somebody within Earthland would prove the wrong one to cross.
Despite it all, Hoax didn't seem to be paying attention to much of anybody. He just stood there with his hands on his hips. “Oh, well!” he finally started up. “Then Hoax will just have to find something to do in the mean time!”
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