The Prodical Son
Characters: bequeathal & vatheon
Location: The Park
Time: early morning
Style: Any~
Status: Open.
How long had it been Vatheon?
Adrian had disappeared just a few days before his birthday. And it had been few weeks, perhaps months, since Adrian had been in this park? Yes, it had been one of his favourite areas of the city; how it had shone in the beauty of the glassy morning sun, and how tranquil it had seemed in the early hours of the evening. Adrian's mind had so often wandered back to his memories in this park. How he had transformed and come here, how he had been with his friends here, the conversations he had had... Oh, but how long ago had it been for the dhampire, who still felt so young in the eyes of the world.
So many years, lifetimes for mere mortals, had passed for the half breed. He had seen so much, experienced more than he could have ever imagined himself capable of, and yet, his thoughts returned to his time in Vatheon very often. He missed the deep conversations he had had here and he had missed the simpler times too. The parties and the gatherings. His friends and those he loved, even those he had loathed.
Adrian had never dreamed he would be able to return to such peace, such love, and perhaps that was one of the thoughts that had tarnished his soul so. He had met his first loves here in this unholy place. He had tasted his first feed here, drunk his first glass of wine, eaten his first sweet cake, there were so many connections in this place and giving up on that dream of returning to it had broken some small part of him.
New sorrow lay dormant in those sad, golden eyes and he changed over the course of hundreds of years. His hair darkened to resemble his father's, he had grown thinner and leaner and his attire had changed also. But hidden under a veil of modernity was the ivory face of the prince of the damned. Forever unchanging. His curse and his father's gift to him.
He lay unconscious on the bench he had once shared with many, outstretched long and slender, his dark hair about his face. One arm was draped above his head, bent at the elbow, the other lax to his side, the back of his palm touching the grassy floor. He seemed to be sleeping, unaware of his own return. Perhaps those that knew him well might see his face and recognize him yet, but to many he would probably appear to be yet another new comer to Vatheon.
Location: The Park
Time: early morning
Style: Any~
Status: Open.
How long had it been Vatheon?
Adrian had disappeared just a few days before his birthday. And it had been few weeks, perhaps months, since Adrian had been in this park? Yes, it had been one of his favourite areas of the city; how it had shone in the beauty of the glassy morning sun, and how tranquil it had seemed in the early hours of the evening. Adrian's mind had so often wandered back to his memories in this park. How he had transformed and come here, how he had been with his friends here, the conversations he had had... Oh, but how long ago had it been for the dhampire, who still felt so young in the eyes of the world.
So many years, lifetimes for mere mortals, had passed for the half breed. He had seen so much, experienced more than he could have ever imagined himself capable of, and yet, his thoughts returned to his time in Vatheon very often. He missed the deep conversations he had had here and he had missed the simpler times too. The parties and the gatherings. His friends and those he loved, even those he had loathed.
Adrian had never dreamed he would be able to return to such peace, such love, and perhaps that was one of the thoughts that had tarnished his soul so. He had met his first loves here in this unholy place. He had tasted his first feed here, drunk his first glass of wine, eaten his first sweet cake, there were so many connections in this place and giving up on that dream of returning to it had broken some small part of him.
New sorrow lay dormant in those sad, golden eyes and he changed over the course of hundreds of years. His hair darkened to resemble his father's, he had grown thinner and leaner and his attire had changed also. But hidden under a veil of modernity was the ivory face of the prince of the damned. Forever unchanging. His curse and his father's gift to him.
He lay unconscious on the bench he had once shared with many, outstretched long and slender, his dark hair about his face. One arm was draped above his head, bent at the elbow, the other lax to his side, the back of his palm touching the grassy floor. He seemed to be sleeping, unaware of his own return. Perhaps those that knew him well might see his face and recognize him yet, but to many he would probably appear to be yet another new comer to Vatheon.