Post by Jack of Blades on May 13, 2006 13:13:49 GMT -5
Tyler Hale woke up in a world in which ‘paradox’ is just a signpost. As the hyoscyamine coursed through his veins, Tyler Hale confronted mimics, magicians and the like in the pursuit to escape back into reality. As it permeated the receptors, Tyler Hale was swallowed by the screaming mouth of a board member. As his eyes diluted, Tyler Hale continued a conversation with a figure that had died previous to his birth. And as his liver won control over the toxin, Tyler Hale was being confronted by his young son being composed of clicking and talking mouths. And yet, the thing that invoked the greatest degree of fear within Tyler Hale was the sense of rationality running throughout. Despite the tips of his fingers turning into the face of his sister, he felt an intrinsic warmth that was absent from the world of grey skyscrapers and Styrofoam coffee cups. But then again, Jack of Blades doubted that Tyler Hale had ever experienced this world.
As Tyler Hale was passed out on his mahogany table, Jack of Blades took the opportunity to truly check his credentials. Scans of Tyler Hale’s person revealed that his suit was a fake and that his faux-leather shoes smelt like asparagus. A few flicks through the documents that Tyler Hale had perceived to be an official laptop combined with calls to Jack’s ominous contacts provided the truth about one Tyler Hale. Tyler Hale was not a graduate of Caltech. Tyler Hale did not appreciate fine suits nor did Tyler Hale have any contact with the board members except for offering them coffee. Tyler Hale was the coffee-boy who had picked apart the board’s theory. Suffering from a kind of schizophrenia, Tyler Hale had wanted to succeed in the WCF at any cost. His two-decade career of handing out bear claws had become tiresome for Tyler Hale. After hearing two senior members discussing the problematic issue that is Jack of Blades, Tyler Hale had decided to be pro-active and go confront Jack of Blades as a way of getting in good. Stealing the necessary documentation and trying to create the illusion, Tyler Hale bought into it. When Tyler Hale saw a limo, Jack of Blades saw a taxicab.
Tyler Hale awoke from his existence of screaming silence and bleeding pathways with his heard crumpling the makeshift pillow of papers that he had fallen upon. He was still in the abode of Jack of Blades but the lack of light both inside and out recommended the time of day to Tyler Hale. Picking up his briefcase/paper dossier, he stumbled out of the beautiful mansion supporting a headache and a shell of sweat. Tripping every few seconds, Tyler Hale resigned himself into thought. Tyler Hale realised that he was lying to himself and that his belief had been a false one. And yet, even in fantasy, Tyler Hale had not made himself the chairperson. Tyler Hale had made Tyler Hale an adviser. Tyler Hale considered himself to be pathetic before switching over to the consideration that it took ingenuity to create that persona. And like that, Tyler Hale forever switched into the belief that he was a financial advisor for the WCF. Tyler Hale snorted at Jack of Blades’ abode to his own when he entered his the limozine and asked the driver to escort him back to his superior homestead. The driver agreed. The driver with his hooknose, sleek shoulder length hair, insane laugh and Television title agreed. And the two crazies drove off together into the sunset.
As Tyler Hale was passed out on his mahogany table, Jack of Blades took the opportunity to truly check his credentials. Scans of Tyler Hale’s person revealed that his suit was a fake and that his faux-leather shoes smelt like asparagus. A few flicks through the documents that Tyler Hale had perceived to be an official laptop combined with calls to Jack’s ominous contacts provided the truth about one Tyler Hale. Tyler Hale was not a graduate of Caltech. Tyler Hale did not appreciate fine suits nor did Tyler Hale have any contact with the board members except for offering them coffee. Tyler Hale was the coffee-boy who had picked apart the board’s theory. Suffering from a kind of schizophrenia, Tyler Hale had wanted to succeed in the WCF at any cost. His two-decade career of handing out bear claws had become tiresome for Tyler Hale. After hearing two senior members discussing the problematic issue that is Jack of Blades, Tyler Hale had decided to be pro-active and go confront Jack of Blades as a way of getting in good. Stealing the necessary documentation and trying to create the illusion, Tyler Hale bought into it. When Tyler Hale saw a limo, Jack of Blades saw a taxicab.
Tyler Hale awoke from his existence of screaming silence and bleeding pathways with his heard crumpling the makeshift pillow of papers that he had fallen upon. He was still in the abode of Jack of Blades but the lack of light both inside and out recommended the time of day to Tyler Hale. Picking up his briefcase/paper dossier, he stumbled out of the beautiful mansion supporting a headache and a shell of sweat. Tripping every few seconds, Tyler Hale resigned himself into thought. Tyler Hale realised that he was lying to himself and that his belief had been a false one. And yet, even in fantasy, Tyler Hale had not made himself the chairperson. Tyler Hale had made Tyler Hale an adviser. Tyler Hale considered himself to be pathetic before switching over to the consideration that it took ingenuity to create that persona. And like that, Tyler Hale forever switched into the belief that he was a financial advisor for the WCF. Tyler Hale snorted at Jack of Blades’ abode to his own when he entered his the limozine and asked the driver to escort him back to his superior homestead. The driver agreed. The driver with his hooknose, sleek shoulder length hair, insane laugh and Television title agreed. And the two crazies drove off together into the sunset.
