The original work from MoH Soul Stealer:
A almost silent sound came from the door as Shora walked past the doorway half-dressed with a dark pants on,he felt water drip from his hair onto the floor as he looked at his sword case, a case with three swords,Shogihin , Souhata, Ougiyahan... Shora moved one hand on his hip as he put on his Black armless shirt lined on the ends with white. he Cliped four belts two belt on each hip Shora looked out his window as a bird passed by he smiled as he enjoyed watching peaceful moments go by
My revision! With a little extension.:
The room was almost quiet. Only slight footsteps could be heard. The young teen walked in the building. The door, creaking, as he entered and closed it. Rain had driven the unknown man in. His hair was soaked with the smell of rain. Droplets of fine beads of water fell on the floor, bouncing off of the hardwood floor.
The man was named Shora. Wearing black tight sleeveless leather shirt and pants, he put his hands on his hips to readjust his belts that held his swords. He had three in all, engraved with their own unique little names. The names were on the blade itself, but in very fine print and in cursive: Shogihin, Souhata, and Ougiyahan.
Shora looked out the window, taking one more glance of the pouring rain. As he looked, a bird flew by, flapping it's wings, searching to find shelter. Shora put up a small smile, admiring the view of the peaceful normal life he now lived in.
Shora walked slowly toward a stool of the salon and sat there, still wet and cool. He had closed his eyes and slightly dozed off when someone came from the back of building. Shora stared into his eyes momentarily, only to soften his gaze when he saw no threat. He was tense.
"What can I get you bud?" There man spoke boasted, smiling and wiping down a glass cup in his hand.
"Nothing right now, I'm already hydrated."
"I can see that," He lay his cup down and turned around, looking at his selection of beverages on the shelves, "By the way, why is a perfectly fine man, like you, doing in a desert ghost town?"
"I could ask the same question."
"Touche!" The bartender grabbed a dusty blue bottle off the shelf. He poured the liquid into the glass rationally. "On the house! A special elixir that will warm you up in no time." Shora held the shiny container and drank it in one gulp. Moments later, a surging energy flowed through him rejuvenating his senses. "You like that, huh? It's my own special stock and only one man knows how to make them, me."
Shora eyes were wide open. Steam was coming off of his body, ridding of the moisture in his cloths. Feeling the need, he stood up, as if he was ready to continue on his venture. Puzzled by what the drink contained, he sat back down, trying to control his urges to leave.
The bartender took the half full bottle and set it back in it's place. He carefully grasped the glass and washed it from a near by sink, then wiped it off with a white cloth. He set the cup aside and waited, standing patiently.
"Shora, that's my name," He said in a slow calm voice. "I came to be here because I'm on a journey to the city. My friend needs my help."
"My name, young sir, is Vice. Vice Fumu of this run down of a Salon," Vice spoke enthusiastically. "If you are hoping to get to the city, I'm afraid you are miles and miles away from your destination. If this is an emergency, I have reason to believe you won't make it in time without an automobile."
"Is there some way to acquire a vehicle?"
"Even If I did know or own one, you'd never come back with it in one piece, now would you?"
"I'll take that as a no, stranger."
Vice cracked up in a huge laughter. The jolly bartender walked to the back of the bar and once again, leaving Shora in the lobby. The sounds of joy overpowered the sound of falling dew. Sounds of metallic clanging and things thrown around could be heard. To Shora, he could only wonder what Vice was doing.
Waiting for the rain to stop was something Shora has done before from as long as he could remember. The rustling stopped and the sound of the dripping water beats could be heard once more. Shora closed his eyes and focused. He began to daydream.
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I plan to write more, but, of course, it seems that I've had a little writer's block. I'm trying to remember what I wanted to write next, though it's not coming back. It should at some random moment when I'm bored.
Till next time... when I feel like it...
