Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new
"There isn't a second. I like more than just his eyes - he has a pretty cock." Adam said bluntly, hoping that the filth might put Amalia off asking any more. She had always seemed quite shy, especially about bedroom things. As for whether he had asked Pet to make out right away, he snorted and shook his head. "No, I think I took him for a drink. You're special."
A librarian. Adam struggled to not pull a face at the thought of being surrounded by books all day. Horrid boring things that had never been open to him; words that danced all over the page with no meaning. "Well, you could do that again, I guess."
To be better, though. In some ways he thought it quite a good and noble goal, but he suspected Amalia held it more as something to berate herself with. "As you...y'know, learn stuff and do things, you'll naturally get better though, right? I mean, I'm better now than I was at 17. Fuck that guy." Speaking of...Adam nearly began his story, then he was asked a question. Maybe one that could actually lead into it better than his own words.
"Eerrrr, well. For a while I wanted to be like my old man. He was a farmer, first, but that's not what he was famous for -- he was this really cool rebel when our town got taken by this noble cunt. But...uh.." Adam sighed and looked out into the room, only able to speak because of the light feeling the drugs gave him. "He died, doing it. But I always thought that was good. You know, fighting to help people and all that. ...It's um...all of that is why I got the scars, actually. Kinda."
