10-10-2009, 09:54 PM
[html]
http://i950.photobucket.com/albums/ad34 ... achine.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-top:205px; background-position:top center; background-color:#0F1110; text-align:justify; font-family:tahoma; font-size:11px; color:#ffffff; line-height:16px">
Time was a funny and fickle beast; though most would remark it was a rather simple, linear, straightforward thing, Anselm would be forced to disagree after the past month. It'd been nearly that long since his daughter had left him, though it had seemingly passed in the blink of an eye. Though he managed to release an explosive amount of frustration over her (maybe not so abrupt) departure, he'd since found his mind awash with what ifs and maybes.
Maybe he should have seen it coming. He'd scarcely noticed her around after their reunion; what if he'd gone out of his way to see her more? To add insult to injury, it seemed as if Valkyrie was gone for good, too. Once more, he couldn't help but chastise himself for his lack of involvement in the girls' lives--the real clincher, of course, was that he knew Val and Ryan had left separately. Perhaps he'd worry for both less if they'd left with one another's company to share. Maybe the youth had managed to track down her mother--it was really the best he could hope for.
Throughout all of it, he couldn't help but shake one mental image from his mind. Strangely, it had nothing to do with either of his progeny, but instead one whom may very well have been the mother of Inferni herself: Kaena. He'd been there to witness her and Razekiel's reconciliation, and he couldn't help but wonder how many times her children had drifted away from her before--only to return again, sometimes inexplicably several years later.
What was that like for her? For her, her children were constants in her mind--not hazy, vague ideas stemming from hazy, vague evenings with many, many partners. They'd always been a part of her life and surely it pained her when they left. He hadn't even been aware of his own children's existence until about two years ago and he couldn't pin down how he was supposed to feel, if he were to feel anything at all. Increasingly it grew harder to distinguish between the anguish of his loss and the self-directed abuse for being so blatantly incompetent.
Though he had been completing his rounds over the past fortnight since Razekiel had shown up on the borders, he hadn't talked to anyone since. Deliberately he found himself weaving away from the freshest of trails, though many piqued his curiosity for they were not recognisable. There'd been a flux of joiners, it seemed, which was great news for Inferni--though it did little to sooth his personally broken spirit. Even now, a new recruit's scent seemed interwoven with the second-in-command's. With quick resolve, he moved along in a dejected trot as he sought out the grizzled matron.
Sorry it took me forever and a day to start this. x: Lemme know if you want the powerplay changed.
Time was a funny and fickle beast; though most would remark it was a rather simple, linear, straightforward thing, Anselm would be forced to disagree after the past month. It'd been nearly that long since his daughter had left him, though it had seemingly passed in the blink of an eye. Though he managed to release an explosive amount of frustration over her (maybe not so abrupt) departure, he'd since found his mind awash with what ifs and maybes.
Maybe he should have seen it coming. He'd scarcely noticed her around after their reunion; what if he'd gone out of his way to see her more? To add insult to injury, it seemed as if Valkyrie was gone for good, too. Once more, he couldn't help but chastise himself for his lack of involvement in the girls' lives--the real clincher, of course, was that he knew Val and Ryan had left separately. Perhaps he'd worry for both less if they'd left with one another's company to share. Maybe the youth had managed to track down her mother--it was really the best he could hope for.
Throughout all of it, he couldn't help but shake one mental image from his mind. Strangely, it had nothing to do with either of his progeny, but instead one whom may very well have been the mother of Inferni herself: Kaena. He'd been there to witness her and Razekiel's reconciliation, and he couldn't help but wonder how many times her children had drifted away from her before--only to return again, sometimes inexplicably several years later.
What was that like for her? For her, her children were constants in her mind--not hazy, vague ideas stemming from hazy, vague evenings with many, many partners. They'd always been a part of her life and surely it pained her when they left. He hadn't even been aware of his own children's existence until about two years ago and he couldn't pin down how he was supposed to feel, if he were to feel anything at all. Increasingly it grew harder to distinguish between the anguish of his loss and the self-directed abuse for being so blatantly incompetent.
Though he had been completing his rounds over the past fortnight since Razekiel had shown up on the borders, he hadn't talked to anyone since. Deliberately he found himself weaving away from the freshest of trails, though many piqued his curiosity for they were not recognisable. There'd been a flux of joiners, it seemed, which was great news for Inferni--though it did little to sooth his personally broken spirit. Even now, a new recruit's scent seemed interwoven with the second-in-command's. With quick resolve, he moved along in a dejected trot as he sought out the grizzled matron.
Sorry it took me forever and a day to start this. x: Lemme know if you want the powerplay changed.