(no subject)
*somewhere very public, like say... outside the Mess Hall, there is an idiot boy with a megaphone. also, for the sake of annoying everyone equally, it’s a magic~ megaphone, so you can hear it everywhere in camp as if you were standing a few feet away from said idiot boy*
Attention, campers! I have an important announcement to make that I am sure you will all care to hear!
Through the industrious use of my own brilliance, I have managed to outsmart the camp itself and bypass the rules! And I, Asano Keigo, have become a man, in one of various figurative senses! ...But I couldn’t have done so without the help of that beautiful Onee-chan... Her fiery enthusiasm, her lack of inhibitions, her huge ti- ...teeth? And her eyes...
Oh, how those golden lights do shine within
That snow white visage like twin burnings fires
Which call seaward lovers safe home again
With thoughts of better halves and flesh desires.
But turned onto their own her suns would seem,
To color rosy petals in the snow.
And make as one descending crimson beam
A path for wandering thoughts to follow.
Down past the roses kings would beg to tend,
And through encircling arms o’er full breast.
E’en past that on which most boy’s hopes do end,
To trail down long and shapely legs to rest
On soft grass near a gently bubbling stream
And wonder where surreal fades into dream...
...Yay me!
Attention, campers! I have an important announcement to make that I am sure you will all care to hear!
Through the industrious use of my own brilliance, I have managed to outsmart the camp itself and bypass the rules! And I, Asano Keigo, have become a man, in one of various figurative senses! ...But I couldn’t have done so without the help of that beautiful Onee-chan... Her fiery enthusiasm, her lack of inhibitions, her huge ti- ...teeth? And her eyes...
Oh, how those golden lights do shine within
That snow white visage like twin burnings fires
Which call seaward lovers safe home again
With thoughts of better halves and flesh desires.
But turned onto their own her suns would seem,
To color rosy petals in the snow.
And make as one descending crimson beam
A path for wandering thoughts to follow.
Down past the roses kings would beg to tend,
And through encircling arms o’er full breast.
E’en past that on which most boy’s hopes do end,
To trail down long and shapely legs to rest
On soft grass near a gently bubbling stream
And wonder where surreal fades into dream...
...Yay me!