Chapter 169 The Encounter of Stars and Stars
The bar is very large and spacious, and the overall style leans toward steel and tough guys. Most of the people who come here to drink are working-class people, and it is rare to see anyone dressed as an aristocrat.
Leonard came to the bar and asked the waiter if he had any recommended wine.
He also just came to Backlund and didn't know much about this big city. In order not to show his timidity, he ordered two types of wine recommended by the waiter, and then only ordered Southwell beer.
Rather than drinking slowly in small sips, he prefers to drink in large gulps. Only by drinking half a glass or a full glass at a time can his melancholy thoughts be relieved.
What the old man said just now really scared him.
When you look up, you can see the stars. If the mysterious existence really sees that he is pretending to be a believer in the stars, will he directly drop a meteor and kill him?
Should I go to a relatively deserted place and wait to die quietly?
Otherwise, it would be bad if the meteor fell into the world and affected innocent lives. He is not so selfish that he must drag others to die with him.
Should I take advantage of this time to write more poems?
Even if you are no longer alive in the future, you can still leave behind a few poems that can be sung by bards.
In the poem, you should deliberately describe your appearance and talents, and then write about your legendary experience of being killed by a meteor.
Sure enough, for people like me, even if they die, they must die vigorously.
Half an hour passed before Leonard came out of that sentimental mood. This was one of the negative effects of using sealed objects.
Amplifying your own negative emotions is not suitable for use when you have death intentions, otherwise you will not be able to resist the desire to commit suicide.
The chill in his body was gradually dissipated due to drinking, and his almost frozen body finally began to warm up. This was also one of the negative effects.
There is also a negative effect. Walking around is easy to encounter incredible events, which last for twenty-four hours.
Incredible events are not necessarily bad things, but most of the sealed artifact holders died tragically due to encountering extremely horrific and unexplainable phenomena.
That's why when he teleported to this nearby area, he didn't dare to go back to the church directly. Instead, he chose this nearby bar as a temporary residence.
As long as the bar doesn't turn away customers, he plans to stay here until dawn tomorrow.
Leonard tapped the five fingers of his right hand rhythmically in front of the bar. He held the handle of the wine glass with his left hand and took a sip of beer from time to time. He looked at the faces of the people in the bar one by one.
He glanced around, looked away, and began to compose new poems in his mind.
Compared to the role of Nightmare, he preferred the previous Midnight Poet. At first, he felt that the Midnight Poet was too compatible with him, so he chose this extraordinary path.
He, Leonard Mitchell, was born a poet, a great romantic poet.
"Have a glass of blue love."
While Leonard was thinking a lot, a voice from the side attracted his attention.
His eyes followed the direction of the sound. At first glance, he felt amazed, then unwilling, and finally sighed, feeling ashamed.
In terms of appearance and temperament, he has always been very confident. If he wanted to, he could be on the cover of those magazines at any time.
As for the overall temperament, it goes without saying that he rarely takes care of his hair, looks messy and unruly, and has a unique sense of beauty. His eyes are slightly confused and can see through the world but pretend to be unrestrained, which makes him look very vicissitudes of life. feel.
This is how he evaluates himself: Leonard Mitchell is the protagonist in the sung poem. He is the poem itself. To be close to him is to embrace the poem.
But the man who appeared in front of him had blond hair dyed like the sun, a well-proportioned and strong figure, and no faulty features. He always maintained a light smile on his face, giving people a very gentle and elegant feeling.
Maybe he had been staring at someone else for a long time. That person came over in his direction, sat down near him, and said with a smile: "Friend, is this your first time here?"
Leonard retracted his gaze, picked up the wine glass and said with a smile, "Am I making it obvious?"
"Sort of. I'm a regular at this bar. Whether I'm a stranger or a regular customer, I can tell just by looking at him."
"So that's it. This is indeed my first time here. It's a very nice bar."
"This is a paradise for the brave."
"That's why I chose this bar."
When Leonard saw that the visitor had extraordinary conversational skills, was gentle and elegant, and was young, he gradually let down his guard and began to chat casually.
After chatting with each other, we actually found it very interesting. When I learned that the other person also specialized in poetry, I finally couldn't help but ask for the other person's name.
Hastur Campbell is really a good name, as mysterious and elegant as his person.
"The love poems written by Emperor Russell are very good, especially the one "When You Get Old". The poems are concise, affectionate, and full of romantic feelings."
Leonard's words showed a bit more admiration for Emperor Russell. In his opinion, the combined talents of later poets could not compare to one Emperor Russell.
Even though he is very confident, he still knows that he is still far from the level of Emperor Russell.
Hasta smiled and said, "Emperor Roselle is indeed a great poet. He writes both love poems and narrative poems very well. It's a pity that he can't concentrate on being a poet. This is very incompetent for a poet full of romantic colors."
Leonard's eyes lit up slightly. This sentence touched his heart.
He also felt that Emperor Roselle became idle in his later years. He actually ran to be the governor of the Republic of Intis and wasted his limited time on such boring things. It was a great waste of his talent.
In terms of the ethics of being a qualified poet, he felt that he was much better than Emperor Roselle.
"For a long poem, this is a shortcoming, but for a long history, this is an inevitable result of the times."
"After all, Emperor Roselle not only showed his talent in poetry, but also made extraordinary achievements in the field of science and technology, and he also opened the industrial age."
"The only regrettable thing is that he doesn't seem to be very decent in relationships between men and women, although this has always been the traditional culture of the Republic of Intis."
Leonard listened to the other party talking and couldn't help asking: "You seem to know a lot about the life of Emperor Roselle?"
"I am committed to studying the history and culture of the time of Emperor Roselle, and I do have a deep understanding of this great man who opened a new era."
Leonard nodded and continued to chat with the other party. This time their topic shifted from Roselle to poetry creation.
Leonard is still very confident in this regard.
Poets who write better poems than him are not as handsome as him, and people who are younger and more handsome than him do not write poems as well as him.
Hasta smiled and shook his head, saying, "I'm not very good at poetry."
"Writing poetry requires spirituality, freedom, and unconstrainedness. Anyone can try."
Leonard encouraged the other party to write a poem, and then threw out his own poem.
There was no way. When he met someone who couldn't beat him in appearance, he wanted to try to win back a game in poetry creation.
"Can I listen to your poem first?"
Hasta hadn't thought of a suitable poem for the time being.
He did have a lot of beautiful poems in his mind, but who knew if Russell had gotten there first.
Wouldn't it be embarrassing if they bumped into each other? Let Leonard show his talent first.
"Okay."
Leonard didn't force it. He thought about the second best poem he wrote, so that even if he made a fool of himself, he would have a better backup.
"Flying swallows fly across the vast land, tourists walk along the Rhine, the coffee shops on the left bank are still steaming, but you have long lost the direction to return home, the whips that whip the horses have lost their hunting grounds, and the hunting dogs guarding outside the house can't wait for their owners to return..."
Leonard slightly opened the collar of his shirt, held a glass of Southwell beer, raised his head slightly and began to sing softly.
His voice was romantic with a strong and indissoluble sadness, as if he was letting go, and seemed to be reminiscing about something.
The original playful sounds in the bar decreased a lot, and everyone turned their eyes to it.
Attracted by the crowd, Leonard drank a glass of Southwell beer in one gulp, slammed the empty wooden cup heavily on the table, making a bang, and his voice became high and radical.
When Leonard finished singing, there was applause and cheers around.
Several guests also ordered more than a dozen glasses of beer for Leonard. Leonard accepted them all, drank another full glass, and began to chant another of his poems.
After reciting three poems in a row, Leonard held the glass in one hand, bent down slightly, and saluted the drinkers in front of him.
Hasta also applauded. Leonard's poetry level and good voice, no matter in which aspect, blasted Alger's hoarse voice and untalented poetry talent.
"It's so refreshing!"
Leonard took another big sip of Southwell beer, his face was slightly flushed, and he was in high spirits. It was obvious that he had a great time drinking tonight.
"Hasta, where are your poems?"
Leonard, who gradually recovered his mood, looked at Hasta. Although he didn't think that the other party could write a better poem than himself, he was still interested in listening.
Hastur thought for a moment and then sang softly: "
The winding Tussock River
The black horse that was flying away with dust
The flash of white lightning;
Hurrying
Running wildly
Where are you going without looking back?
You actually ran into a desolate grave
Waiting for a miracle in your sleep
The plump body stepped over the rotten bones
The girl holding flowers in her hands
Who are you waiting for to come..."
His voice was very soft, as if he was sighing and regretting.