Do you like it uptown, it's quiet uptown.
rain patterns the window with banal recurrence. vapid, polite conversation transitions between otherwise disinterested lips of co-passengers, whilst the chancellor immerses himself with the cryptic anatomy of the night’s streets. SPIRITLESS. against his counsel, the emperor assigned his representative the task of occupying an imperial vehicle with but a confounding assortment of prestigious faces, that is, the supreme commander, general glauca; the oracle of tenebrae, lunafreya; and an unwary youth at the wheel who appears to be going out of his way to drive imprudently within the present weather conditions.
an instance of rumination presents the immortal an alternative — freedom — as silence ( at long last ) embroiders the innermost vehicle. all such trivial attempts at pitiable discourse are brought to an explicit end with a scoff from the supremacy digging at ardyn’s side ( inadvertently ). glauca, servicing the meddling nature of their driver with a discontented crossing of his arms, unsettles what negligent quality the ride had entailed until this point. SLIGHTED, he appears — or so his robust elbow engraves against hip. shifting himself out of its contact, ardyn contemplates whether it is best to rest, as is the lateness of hour. the moon, extorting the impartial attitudes of all but the chancellor and single female commuter, preferentially glows upon those at travel. RADIANT.
“ do you like it uptown ? —— it’s … quiet uptown … ”
as though a bird, she pecks — influence of pitch a reckless connotation. staggered between abhorrence and exasperation, the men revolve their sights so as to impose condescension. a moment’s pause precedes ardyn’s return.
“ forgive me , lady lunafreya . though we — ahn … though i appreciate your endeavor to relieve us the length of this ride , i must ask that you save this —— prattle for a time you reunite with your brother . ”
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