[fanfic] Glen, Jack - K+ - "WIP."
Title: WIP
Author: emorial
For: Nobody.
Characters: Glen Baskerville, Jack Vessalius.
Warnings: None.
Rating: K+.
Genre: Angst, Tragedy, Friendship.
Pairings: None.
Summary: Glen meets Jack for the first time, only to realize he might have something he needs to motivate him. What he needs motivation for is unknown until the events unfold. note: this fic is a work in progress. this is only a small beginning of what will actually be written.
Fate had never been a word that Glen had found of interest in his vocabulary.
To him, everything happened for a reason. What those reasons were would be unraveled like a spindle thread, slowly drawn out and revealed, and then was snapped by accident by pulling too tightly, or deliberately cut, to whomever it was happening to. That is, to say, when it happens to people other than himself. In every case, he had been the one unraveling those strands of thread, the one to show people what it would become of, and to be the one to cut the ties.
This time was no different.
* * *
Business visits had become something familiar to him the past few weeks. As stifling as it was to be around people, the black clad man had to make the trip to the Vessalius house. A break for tea, dull walks along the rose garden (which, tragically enough, only made his disgust for the world to increase by just seeing the blood colored petals, alone), and even a brisk walk through the court yard, was all it took to make the man wish for a peaceful room at home to relax in.
Leaves being caressed by the wind, dancing to and fro, only seemed to irritate him, drawing his nerve to the point of wanting to elope with the few words that were being said between the other parties. All it would take was for him to make a quick pivot and return the other way from the hell he had allowed to tangled him for those few hours of the day.
That was until the sound of pain enticed itself in the air, as if a foreigner were trying to inhabit an area in which it didn’t belong.
Black bangs obscured his vision, his head not bothering to turn as his eyes shifted in the general direction that the sound had barged in from. It wasn’t long before his interest had peaked, his body turning to face the disruption of silence that had been called a small break from the business meeting. A new tune was in the air, the atmosphere that had been weighed down with unruly interest had been lifted by just the simple presence of this man that lay before him.
Golden locks of hair laid beside him, carefully woven into a silk-like braid, while a white, gloved hand rubbed at the newly forming bump that he had started to acquire. Even his voice matched the atmosphere he had made, laughter echoing off the bark as if it had laid it’s touch there a thousand times before.
“Master Jack!” A few of the servants had already run over to accompany the fallen man who had so suddenly appeared from the brush of the tree, a branch still in hand from his failed attempts of keeping his existence to the world around him unknown. Or, to Glen’s other thought, perhaps it was a failed attempt to keep himself safe.
“Is he alright…?” He couldn’t help but show a slight concern to keep on their good side.
“Ah? Yes, don’t worry about him, Master Glen. He’ll be just fine.”
Looking at him only made him more curious. How could such a nobleman could act in such a carefree nature, nothing touching him to taint the soul that made him function, move, and to be who it is who he was portraying.
He was like a perfect picture made with freshly made paint, intensified with pure bristles of an unused paint brush, touching the white canvas for the first time.
Brightness; a shining glimpse of hope in what would be considered mankind.
Perhaps this man was who his dampened soul had been looking for.
Author: emorial
For: Nobody.
Characters: Glen Baskerville, Jack Vessalius.
Warnings: None.
Rating: K+.
Genre: Angst, Tragedy, Friendship.
Pairings: None.
Summary: Glen meets Jack for the first time, only to realize he might have something he needs to motivate him. What he needs motivation for is unknown until the events unfold. note: this fic is a work in progress. this is only a small beginning of what will actually be written.
Fate had never been a word that Glen had found of interest in his vocabulary.
To him, everything happened for a reason. What those reasons were would be unraveled like a spindle thread, slowly drawn out and revealed, and then was snapped by accident by pulling too tightly, or deliberately cut, to whomever it was happening to. That is, to say, when it happens to people other than himself. In every case, he had been the one unraveling those strands of thread, the one to show people what it would become of, and to be the one to cut the ties.
This time was no different.
* * *
Business visits had become something familiar to him the past few weeks. As stifling as it was to be around people, the black clad man had to make the trip to the Vessalius house. A break for tea, dull walks along the rose garden (which, tragically enough, only made his disgust for the world to increase by just seeing the blood colored petals, alone), and even a brisk walk through the court yard, was all it took to make the man wish for a peaceful room at home to relax in.
Leaves being caressed by the wind, dancing to and fro, only seemed to irritate him, drawing his nerve to the point of wanting to elope with the few words that were being said between the other parties. All it would take was for him to make a quick pivot and return the other way from the hell he had allowed to tangled him for those few hours of the day.
That was until the sound of pain enticed itself in the air, as if a foreigner were trying to inhabit an area in which it didn’t belong.
Black bangs obscured his vision, his head not bothering to turn as his eyes shifted in the general direction that the sound had barged in from. It wasn’t long before his interest had peaked, his body turning to face the disruption of silence that had been called a small break from the business meeting. A new tune was in the air, the atmosphere that had been weighed down with unruly interest had been lifted by just the simple presence of this man that lay before him.
Golden locks of hair laid beside him, carefully woven into a silk-like braid, while a white, gloved hand rubbed at the newly forming bump that he had started to acquire. Even his voice matched the atmosphere he had made, laughter echoing off the bark as if it had laid it’s touch there a thousand times before.
“Master Jack!” A few of the servants had already run over to accompany the fallen man who had so suddenly appeared from the brush of the tree, a branch still in hand from his failed attempts of keeping his existence to the world around him unknown. Or, to Glen’s other thought, perhaps it was a failed attempt to keep himself safe.
“Is he alright…?” He couldn’t help but show a slight concern to keep on their good side.
“Ah? Yes, don’t worry about him, Master Glen. He’ll be just fine.”
Looking at him only made him more curious. How could such a nobleman could act in such a carefree nature, nothing touching him to taint the soul that made him function, move, and to be who it is who he was portraying.
He was like a perfect picture made with freshly made paint, intensified with pure bristles of an unused paint brush, touching the white canvas for the first time.
Brightness; a shining glimpse of hope in what would be considered mankind.
Perhaps this man was who his dampened soul had been looking for.