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Description

Verdigris stared at himself in the mirror with a smug smile, gently tossing the tuft of hair atop his head in an effort to perfect the manner in which it naturally fell. He was beautiful, far prettier than any of the other stumps here. But of course he was, he was just naturally better than all of them. He told himself that so often, and every day it became more and more true.

He was well aware of the fact that nobody liked him. Some of the other stumps were even afraid of him. This was fine by him. If the others couldn’t stand up to his wit, why pay them any mind? Everyone had their flaws (some more than others, of course). He had been bombarded with his own and, clearly, he was the better for it. Thus, he would weave his own lies and insults. It meant safety, you see, to have a weapon to defend yourself with, to test others with. His tongue had to be sharp, akin to a sword, for everyone’s good.

In the back of his head, Verdigris imagined the faint cries of a child, the cold scoldings of a mother, tongue laced with gold. Instinctually, he stuck out his own tongue, the inky black of his magic gland staring back at him. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. His mouth wasn’t tainted in this manner and it never would be.

When he grew up, his tongue would be silver.
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Tiny hits towards Verdigris' background and his thoughts on people liking him. He's a butthead, plain and simple.

Word Count: 250 exactly

5/253 Beans
docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d…

Description

Verdigris stared at himself in the mirror with a smug smile, gently tossing the tuft of hair atop his head in an effort to perfect the manner in which it naturally fell. He was beautiful, far prettier than any of the other stumps here. But of course he was, he was just naturally better than all of them. He told himself that so often, and every day it became more and more true.

He was well aware of the fact that nobody liked him. Some of the other stumps were even afraid of him. This was fine by him. If the others couldn’t stand up to his wit, why pay them any mind? Everyone had their flaws (some more than others, of course). He had been bombarded with his own and, clearly, he was the better for it. Thus, he would weave his own lies and insults. It meant safety, you see, to have a weapon to defend yourself with, to test others with. His tongue had to be sharp, akin to a sword, for everyone’s good.

In the back of his head, Verdigris imagined the faint cries of a child, the cold scoldings of a mother, tongue laced with gold. Instinctually, he stuck out his own tongue, the inky black of his magic gland staring back at him. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. His mouth wasn’t tainted in this manner and it never would be.

When he grew up, his tongue would be silver.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tiny hits towards Verdigris' background and his thoughts on people liking him. He's a butthead, plain and simple.

Word Count: 250 exactly

5/253 Beans
docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d…