[trinity blood] the inheritance saga;
“The Inheritance Saga”
Trinity Blood, Post-animé Alternate Universe
Includes original characters. Trinity Blood belongs to GONZO.
Notes: Pre-Inheritance, post-animé.
Landscapes and Ashes.
“I never expected this,” he tells Abel, the fierce wind whipping about them as they stand on the edge of the cliff. “I don’t know what I expected.”
“People are funny, Ion,” the priest murmurs from behind the cloth that covers his mouth and nose. “Despite what one or two others may say or think, people do everything with passion - love, hate, celebrate, wage war. In all the years that I’ve lived, I’ve realized that human beings do things to extremes.” He might have sighed, but the Methuselah couldn’t tell over the sudden roar of wind that deafened them both.
“But this...” Ion swallows, his eyes transfixed on the desolate landscape where the remnants of mass death hovered like a translucent veil. “I never expected this.”
“Come on, we have to move. You can never be sure of who’s watching.”
He looks over to see the priest’s form walking away in the direction that they’d come down. The wind rages still, as if screaming in silent anguish. Short of staggering back, the Methuselah follows suit, his hand lifting to shield his eyes from the dust and sand that threatens to blind him.
Trinity Blood, Post-animé Alternate Universe
Includes original characters. Trinity Blood belongs to GONZO.
Notes: Pre-Inheritance, post-animé.
Landscapes and Ashes.
“I never expected this,” he tells Abel, the fierce wind whipping about them as they stand on the edge of the cliff. “I don’t know what I expected.”
“People are funny, Ion,” the priest murmurs from behind the cloth that covers his mouth and nose. “Despite what one or two others may say or think, people do everything with passion - love, hate, celebrate, wage war. In all the years that I’ve lived, I’ve realized that human beings do things to extremes.” He might have sighed, but the Methuselah couldn’t tell over the sudden roar of wind that deafened them both.
“But this...” Ion swallows, his eyes transfixed on the desolate landscape where the remnants of mass death hovered like a translucent veil. “I never expected this.”
“Come on, we have to move. You can never be sure of who’s watching.”
He looks over to see the priest’s form walking away in the direction that they’d come down. The wind rages still, as if screaming in silent anguish. Short of staggering back, the Methuselah follows suit, his hand lifting to shield his eyes from the dust and sand that threatens to blind him.