Father's Day
Who: The Baron and Alba
What: Father's Day
When: Evening, just after sunset
Where: The Balaz/DeTamble Residence
Rating: D for D'awww
On the shortest day of the year, Baron Byron Balaz woke early, oil lamps flickering to life all around the wide bedroom at a thought. The lid of his broad, gold and black coffin swung open noiselessly, revealing a face both ageless and warm. Out of place with the plush interior of the coffin was a note, pinned at eye level and written in flawless script--
Father's Day
Warm features faltered into uncertainty for the briefest moment as he rose, eyes the color of midnight darting to a narrow wooden box leaning against the end of the coffin. It wasn't at all traditional from everything he'd read, for the...father to get something for their daughter, but from where The Baron stood, tradition failed in expressing, well, quite a bit, in this world.
It was all rather confusing, if he cared to really think about it.
Slender hands scrubbed at lean features as The Baron reached for a container tucked in a compartment in the coffin that, all things considered, shouldn't be able to exist--it extended into nothingness, negative space. Just one of the many quirks of his sleep place. Extra-dimensional storage. Taking the packet of plasma and popping it open, The Baron took a moment to ignore the fact that it didn't sate his hunger at all before downing it in one go.
Today of all days he would put aside nature itself.
Taking a deep breath, he checked himself once in a nearby mirror and picked up the box at the foot of the coffin, making the short trip past the library and to his ward's room.
"Alba, is it permissible for me to enter?"
What: Father's Day
When: Evening, just after sunset
Where: The Balaz/DeTamble Residence
Rating: D for D'awww
On the shortest day of the year, Baron Byron Balaz woke early, oil lamps flickering to life all around the wide bedroom at a thought. The lid of his broad, gold and black coffin swung open noiselessly, revealing a face both ageless and warm. Out of place with the plush interior of the coffin was a note, pinned at eye level and written in flawless script--
Father's Day
Warm features faltered into uncertainty for the briefest moment as he rose, eyes the color of midnight darting to a narrow wooden box leaning against the end of the coffin. It wasn't at all traditional from everything he'd read, for the...father to get something for their daughter, but from where The Baron stood, tradition failed in expressing, well, quite a bit, in this world.
It was all rather confusing, if he cared to really think about it.
Slender hands scrubbed at lean features as The Baron reached for a container tucked in a compartment in the coffin that, all things considered, shouldn't be able to exist--it extended into nothingness, negative space. Just one of the many quirks of his sleep place. Extra-dimensional storage. Taking the packet of plasma and popping it open, The Baron took a moment to ignore the fact that it didn't sate his hunger at all before downing it in one go.
Today of all days he would put aside nature itself.
Taking a deep breath, he checked himself once in a nearby mirror and picked up the box at the foot of the coffin, making the short trip past the library and to his ward's room.
"Alba, is it permissible for me to enter?"