In trying to develop a character to deem worthy of a villain, the best of them seem to temp the ear with seeds of doubt covered in lyrics of honey. Or something like that. I was dealt a hand of brashness and directed force. Boundaries are blurred while invisible lines draw borders limiting movement until a flinch beckons contact. A primeval heart beat drives the mind wild with adrenaline! Words are basic and gruntal, almost overwhelmingly devouring senses, while a clash of flesh and armor pierce the air. When the battle is exhausted, the beasts retire removed from breath. Drenched, drowning in thirst, quenched by a deep inhale of sky. Romance? Its everything i say to get you to say yes. To see you rival the sun with a smile, golden and beautiful. I'm strong in body basking in your spirit, if only you will let me feel your light against the cheek, I would gladly return favor.

     Now the character at hand is porous, brutally rough, obviously offensive and wearing his lust on his sleeve rather than his heart. He does not feel but grasps at, clinging to familiar words, easily broken down and deciphered revealing a repetitive rotation of cogs in the cranial attic. There is no depth only a puddle of linguistics. His eyes project the channels aping his sitcom like response. Vugarly spewing wanting, whaling waspy words of desperation.