[ it's the little things that make people human. little things dusted over each day, a twinkling of icing in a world that moves and swirls like ocean. it is full of colours, full of life and laughter - a far cry from the abyss that fills his veins and pours in a sedate sort of madness. yet, he knows that it too has value, a world that exists to be beautiful... even if it is destined to fall into ruin one day.
after all, the abyss is merely the other side of this coin. ]
I see...
[ he does not question mozart's own boast. for all he knows, it may be true. who is he to understand the whims of mortals?
though... that second statement. his ears flick a little, just once ]
no subject
after all, the abyss is merely the other side of this coin. ]
I see...
[ he does not question mozart's own boast. for all he knows, it may be true. who is he to understand the whims of mortals?
though... that second statement. his ears flick a little, just once ]
Is that a good thing?