Aşa-i lumea trecătoare.. C-aşa-i lumea trecătoare.
There wasn't so much singing as there was a short jeremiad. A low hymn that purred more than hummed and shivered down in baritone to the bones. An old lyric that met the man and told of his addiction to the world.
Unul naşte altul moare.. Unul naşte altul moare.
Wondering if he would ever tire of it despite it's transient, sojourn beauty.
Lume, soră lume.
Wondering if he would tire of watching the new-borns suffering, and the dead ones rotting. Oh world, what a world.
Ăl de naşte necăjeşte.. Ăl de moare putrezeşte.
Oh what a crazy world.
Lume, soră lume.A world he watched from high above, where the vampire sat on edge like a gargoyle overlooking the city. Hands folded in his lap, long legs dangling over the side, his gaze cast to the church steeple that housed the man who loathed him more than Satan. To the graveyard that was blanketed in white, and the forest he had build just beyond it, masked in the veil of snow, deceiving onlookers of what horrors lied under it. To the
( ... )
He heard the singing first off. He didn't know Alucard sang. Well, how about that? It was a song he had no memory of ever hearing, of course, and his wide grasp of languages still had a bit of difficulty grasping. Here he could at least brush up on his Japanese, but other than that, well... No one spoke half the languages of old. Instead it was a wide spread smattering. German, Russian, French and so on of the old European languages. Rarely Asian, and oddly even less Eastern European languages.
It was a little disappointing he could only make out a few words here.
He managed to snatch the strawberry before it hit the ground, careful not to crush the little thing in his hands. The last thing he needed was to stain his gloves with it rather than the inside of his mouth.
And sit he did, settling beside the other man on the roof top as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.
The vampire would have denied his ability to pass song through his lips. Anything but a hum rumbling through his chest, that was all. Yet the reminiscence in the veils of white surrounding him had those old melodies speaking across his tongue almost subconsciously. He never took his eyes away, keeping his gaze cast at the world of white below them and the church that stood tall amongst the frost as a monument of mockery to their kind
( ... )
He had to admit, on some level he was a bit jealous. He himself was certainly not much of a singer, having never really done it in his youth, nor at all through the rest of his life. Some shred of dignity kept him from even trying. He just didn't have the right kind of voice for it, far from the deep, low, rolling bass Alucard boasted. His own tone was good enough for calming and soothing, but... singing? No thanks. If anything, closer to a tenor than a baritone than anything
( ... )
The vampire nodded, somewhat. Yet the look upon him was unsatisfied at best.
"What I saw.. were memories I could not distinguish between yours.. and my own." That moment had shook him to his very core that history would replay itself through his bloodline so perfectly. There was a shadow of sympathy for the boy, as he wished that burden upon no other.
"Details escape me.. I pried your blood to tell the truth of your intentions.. what else I found was merely a reaction.. to tasting of my own blood." Never had he thought that day would come. He believed his reign would die with himself.
Yet Abel thrashed his seemingly inescapable destiny by merely existing.
"I know not that world you are from.. The best would be to start.." He grinned rather deviously, "from your very beginning, hm?"
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There wasn't so much singing as there was a short jeremiad. A low hymn that purred more than hummed and shivered down in baritone to the bones. An old lyric that met the man and told of his addiction to the world.
Unul naşte altul moare.. Unul naşte altul moare.
Wondering if he would ever tire of it despite it's transient, sojourn beauty.
Lume, soră lume.
Wondering if he would tire of watching the new-borns suffering, and the dead ones rotting. Oh world, what a world.
Ăl de naşte necăjeşte.. Ăl de moare putrezeşte.
Oh what a crazy world.
Lume, soră lume.A world he watched from high above, where the vampire sat on edge like a gargoyle overlooking the city. Hands folded in his lap, long legs dangling over the side, his gaze cast to the church steeple that housed the man who loathed him more than Satan. To the graveyard that was blanketed in white, and the forest he had build just beyond it, masked in the veil of snow, deceiving onlookers of what horrors lied under it. To the ( ... )
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It was a little disappointing he could only make out a few words here.
He managed to snatch the strawberry before it hit the ground, careful not to crush the little thing in his hands. The last thing he needed was to stain his gloves with it rather than the inside of his mouth.
And sit he did, settling beside the other man on the roof top as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.
"Thank you."
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"What I saw.. were memories I could not distinguish between yours.. and my own." That moment had shook him to his very core that history would replay itself through his bloodline so perfectly. There was a shadow of sympathy for the boy, as he wished that burden upon no other.
"Details escape me.. I pried your blood to tell the truth of your intentions.. what else I found was merely a reaction.. to tasting of my own blood." Never had he thought that day would come. He believed his reign would die with himself.
Yet Abel thrashed his seemingly inescapable destiny by merely existing.
"I know not that world you are from.. The best would be to start.." He grinned rather deviously, "from your very beginning, hm?"
Reply
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