PropFeds

In the middle of a room, sisters Tilde and Cedilla lie over an jaded red rug, pondering over a game of chess. As usual, the game is largely comprised of constant stares at the board, and sometimes close artistic examinations of the pieces' intricate wooden textures. They would know it quite well, and occasionally giggle at the thoughts of it. Occasionally, they would wipe the entire board in a brisk motion of their small arms, then quickly pick the pieces up and proceed to arrange a new game. They would well know also, that the so-called 'professional chess' games would become ever so slightly more exciting to watch. The timer would keep players in concentration, and sooner or later, one would have to make a move amidst all the streams of thought. Or rather, a deliberate mistake, so the games can finally advance at a slightly faster pace. Cedilla thinks that it should not be called chess at all, but woodstare. Hell, most of the other sports are hardly ever different. And she thinks