Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2018 23:39:49 GMT -5
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hells bells
[attr="class","reasonsmallmac"]I'm a rolling thunder, a pouring rain I'm comin' on like a hurricane My lightning's flashing across the sky You're only young but you're gonna die
hells bells
[attr="class","reasonsmallmac"]I'm a rolling thunder, a pouring rain I'm comin' on like a hurricane My lightning's flashing across the sky You're only young but you're gonna die
[attr="class","reasonbodmac"]Mac didn't consider herself to be a particularly religious person. She'd grown up in a family of Buddhists, but her parents rarely practiced beyond the occasional meditation session to clear their heads. When Mac had gone to Mahoutokoro, she'd all but abandoned those ideas to forge her own path. One that was strictly concerned with earning her Golden Robes by the time.
When she’d graduated from Mahoutokoro, her priorities had shifted once again. This time, her religion was schooling and her career. Devoted to music and to what it meant for her, Mac rose in popularity like a firework taking to the sky. And then, just like that firework, she faded from existence a few years later. But by then, her priorities had shifted once again. She didn’t want to be in the limelight. She wanted to live behind the scenes.
So, she’d chosen a career that had never occurred to her in the beginning: managing others’ careers. Without her own to stand in the way, she was perfectly able to structure the careers and projections of other rising stars. And, because she’d already experienced the rise and fall of fame, Mac knew exactly how to position them for maximum impact. As a manager, she was a no-brainer.
She’d had a few meetings in Scotland and then she’d decided to take the rest of the afternoon to herself. After all, there weren’t many days that Mac could say were hers. Not that she actually enjoyed that sort of thing. To be honest, she would rather be neck deep buried in her client’s paperwork then spending the afternoon pampering herself, but she had been feeling rather run down as of late.
There was no magic to glamour her baggy eyes away and no magic to brew Pepper-Up in her own home. And people were starting to notice. Not that they said anything – and even if they had, it wasn’t like Mac cared – but she could feel them staring.
She was just being paranoid, she assured herself, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked up the large hill towards The Carillon. There was nothing wrong with her. She would be able to keep on like this for the rest of her life because this was the career that she had chosen.
A sound ran out from the top of the hill and Mac paused, the air around her still for a moment before she heard it again: another chime. Ten more times it ran, denoting that it was finally noon. She was close, she thought, taking her steps more quickly now. Louder and louder the sound grew until she was face-to-face with it. Bells, she thought with a smile. For a moment, she realized just how much she missed her career in music. But, that was all the past, now.
She was a new woman. With a sigh, she turned around to look over Sidhe down below. It was beautiful this time of year.
When she’d graduated from Mahoutokoro, her priorities had shifted once again. This time, her religion was schooling and her career. Devoted to music and to what it meant for her, Mac rose in popularity like a firework taking to the sky. And then, just like that firework, she faded from existence a few years later. But by then, her priorities had shifted once again. She didn’t want to be in the limelight. She wanted to live behind the scenes.
So, she’d chosen a career that had never occurred to her in the beginning: managing others’ careers. Without her own to stand in the way, she was perfectly able to structure the careers and projections of other rising stars. And, because she’d already experienced the rise and fall of fame, Mac knew exactly how to position them for maximum impact. As a manager, she was a no-brainer.
She’d had a few meetings in Scotland and then she’d decided to take the rest of the afternoon to herself. After all, there weren’t many days that Mac could say were hers. Not that she actually enjoyed that sort of thing. To be honest, she would rather be neck deep buried in her client’s paperwork then spending the afternoon pampering herself, but she had been feeling rather run down as of late.
There was no magic to glamour her baggy eyes away and no magic to brew Pepper-Up in her own home. And people were starting to notice. Not that they said anything – and even if they had, it wasn’t like Mac cared – but she could feel them staring.
She was just being paranoid, she assured herself, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked up the large hill towards The Carillon. There was nothing wrong with her. She would be able to keep on like this for the rest of her life because this was the career that she had chosen.
A sound ran out from the top of the hill and Mac paused, the air around her still for a moment before she heard it again: another chime. Ten more times it ran, denoting that it was finally noon. She was close, she thought, taking her steps more quickly now. Louder and louder the sound grew until she was face-to-face with it. Bells, she thought with a smile. For a moment, she realized just how much she missed her career in music. But, that was all the past, now.
She was a new woman. With a sigh, she turned around to look over Sidhe down below. It was beautiful this time of year.
[attr="class","reasontagmac"]@ OPEN | 494 | OUTFIT
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