

Matrix: A Strange QuickeningMatrix/Highlander: A Strange QuickeningMatrix: A Strange Quickening
It was night in New York City, and the park near the river was surprisingly quiet for a weekend. Nobody was around; not even the usual hobos or hippies or drug abusers...
And two men, dressed in coats and prowling the river's edge seemingly nonchalantly. even in the shadows' darkness however it was clear to both men that each was eyeing the other. They stopped at arm's length; their intentions clear to each other by now. They had been drawn here by an ancient practice, an instinct that they had no way of escaping...they were immortals, far older than the city itself, trapped in a hor
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"Character is strength born of struggle."
member of: :iconpenned-from-darkness: :iconthe-dark-arts:
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Damnit Jim, I'm a writer, not an artist!
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