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"What inspired the arts of the underworld."

He had tried as much as possible to ignore that thought but he wasn't just so skilled. He had thought that he could steer clear of it and have his own way.

He had thought that he would be able to free his instinct from it. He didn't know that it had had the best part of him. Of course he didn't want to be the slave of the feeling.

He wanted to steer clear of the odds. He wanted to be sure that he was still in charge of what he was doing and would keep doing. He didn't know what he would set his hands on.

He didn't know what art he would fiddle with next. He didn't know what next he was going to find himself in. He didn't care.

He simply wanted to figure out whatever was there to be figured out. He knew that he would have his way around it. He couldn't be really sure but he was already. He hoped that he would be sane.

"You mean inspires?"

He didn't know how long the marred monster would keep correcting his mistakes. It seemed to had gotten to an extent when he wouldn't have to say anything around him again.

He didn't know if that was the best feeling. He didn't know if he could truly bank on that thought. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

His corrections of course did have their own course which he would love to mend. He didn't give a damn what the monster did think right. He didn't know how he was so skilled in the use of the language.

He didn't know how he was always able to figure out his mistake. He quit thinking that thought. He tried to process what the thoughts was all about. He hoped that he would be able to make meaning of it.

He began to split the words into splinters. He was wasn't sure if that was the best thing to do. Did that mean that new inventions were yet still made in the he depth of the ocean?

For that was the only meaning he could read to the argument of the so called Poseidon. He wouldn't allow his instinct to be pawned.

He did know what he was supposed. He wouldn't give a damn. He matter-of-factly was a poet:

"Whatever."

He threw his eyes sideways. That was the best thing he thought he could do. He knew that the monster didn't see the expression he was wearing on his face. It didn't really matter.

He didn't know what perception the monster had of him. He didn't know what he would be thinking of him. He had no idea what kind of person he would had thought him to be.

He wasn't so sure. He seemed to be concerned. He didn't know why he felt so concerned. He shouldn't give a damn of course. He shouldn't nurse any sort of nuances.

He should stick to the rigidity of heart which had brought him that far. He didn't even know why he was being daring to the monster.

Twasnt like if there was a fight between the two of them,he would be able to bruise his guts or something.

He didn't even know what was wrong with him. Twas quite advisable that he did steer clear of any odd. That should help him of course.

"You seem to be quite rude though."

Really? Like seriously? That was what he had just leapt outta his thoughts from. So the monster was listening to his thoughts or something?

No! He was just being a blockhead. How would Poseidon had listened to his thoughts? That was in no way possible. Even if twas possible, he didn't give a damn.

He was just simply worried. He didn't know how long he would keep telling lies to himself and keep complicating things. He had no idea yet, but he was trying to figure out.

That was all that he could do. That was all that did matter to him. He seemed to had arrived at a sane conclusion after all the shits. He then knew what perception the monster did have of him.

He had been worried before but no more. He didn't know why he was feeling that peace. He had no idea who had lent him that peace. That didn't really mean a lot to him.

He would get himself ready for more blow. He didn't know what to say to him. He knew that he also must be skillful with words.

That was the only thing which would be able to bail him outta the mess he had been drenched in.

"We all have our weakness."

He noticed excitement flushed through the face of the monster. He didn't know what he was supposed to owe that to. He didn't know what would be ready to set him so off.

He couldn't really be sure. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to put up with. He knew that something might come off it.

He knew that he would soon be able to make meaning of it. He wasn't so sure how true that was. He didn't know what would happen next. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.

He didn't know what he was supposed to put up with. That of course was some cliche. He would learn to fix the odds and spell out things which wouldn't work out in his own favor.

He was not in for some charade. He did know that the monster was in for something. What that thing was was what did leave him on a spot. He couldn't be sure what twas.

He didn't know what to think. He was trying as much as possible to think to no avail. There was nothing he could do about it obviously. He heard him speak:

"Are you really sure about that?"

He was trying to process his thoughts. Was the monster trying to fiddle with words? Was he actually trying to play around the words. He hadn't known him for that.

He didn't know what he didn't know about the monster. The only thing he did know was the fact that as time did go on in that world of fantasy, he would learn more things.

He wasn't so sure how true that was. There was nothing to be sure about. There was no lie about it. He could see it everywhere. He had noticed it overtime. He had been noticing.

Most times he had been caught off guard. He felt like he should had braced his hankering heart for whatever would come its way. He wished that he could do that.

He wished that he could simply ignore what surprise did have for him. But he couldn't bring himself to doing it.

He couldn't put up with it. He was trying as much as possible. He didn't know what that was. He hoped that he would be able to.

"Do you have a weakness?"

He looked at the green back of the monster. Poseidon's skin was green at that moment. He had noticed that he did change his colour.

He didn't know on what occasions though. He knew that sooner or later, he would figure out. He couldn't be so sure about it. He hoped that he would be able to figure out.

But at least he had been able to figure out the three colours the monster always did swap. If he wasn't blue,he would be white or green. He didn't know why he had been ignoring what he did look like since the first day.

Maybe because he already did believe that Poseidon was a monster and his shape and form must not be some surprise. He wasn't obviously expected to be normal.

And even truth be told, the poet didn't know what day he was in in that world of fantasy. He wasn't even counting the days. He couldn't be sure.

He hoped that he would be able to figure out soonest. He hoped that he would be able know what would happen soonest. He steered clear of that thought. He wanted to supplant a new one.

He noticed that Poseidon was unusually silent. He didn't know if the question he had asked him had had the best part of him.

Probably the monster was trying to choose his words. He couldn't be so sure. He didn't know what to be sure of anymore. If twas true that the monster was caught unawares, how glad he would be.

He had always been looking for that day. He had always been expecting that pull of fate. He had always been wanting to be a part of it.

He noticed several movements outside the tower but he couldn't see anyone. He wouldn't allow himself to be fooled. He knew what he was up against.

"Welcome to the hall of inspiration, weak Vulcan."

He tried to process what just happened. He didn't know how to process it. He didn't know how to go about the procession.

The only thing he was sure of was the fact that Poseidon didn't say anything. He was more than sure about it. The voice came from the walls of the tower.

Wonders would never cease! So walls could speak in the world of fantasy? He tried to ignore it but simply couldn't. He didn't know what to do or how to go about it.

He hoped that he would be able to find his way around. Then! The gate of the tower opened. While the serpent without being urged skipped into the smoky hall.