03-19-2009, 10:45 PM
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WC: +300
IC:
Family. This aspect of the dark warriors life seemed to run from him. His parents died, his adoptive mother died, his second adoptive parents split up and left him in Crimson Dreams and now his mate of just three months had run off and his daughter had never lived to see a day. In the dark basement he had escaped not wanting any of his pack members to find him. He had stayed in bed for most of the morning and eventually dragged himself down to the large dark room and lit the fireplace. There he sat, staring, eyes florid with hot tears that clung to the dark circles forming under his eyes. He had fathered a child, a daughter. He was a father but she hadn't survived. Did the world not see him fit to be happy? Inside of him his heart bleed, he wanted to scream, he wanted to run, he wanted to fight but all he could do was sit on the cold floor staring at the flames.
His left hand held a bloody white bandage he had tied around his lower right arm the night before but he hadn't the energy or will to change. The wound was a very pleasant deep bite mark that had drawn blood instantly in a fight to save the young Mati from this loner beast. Now, that day seemed centuries ago, yet it had only happened all but two days ago. The old stairs made noises as the scent of Naniko filled the room. The dark knight did not move. Instead he stared into the flames and watched them dance, “Naniko.” He said coldly. His chest ached, his head was filled with awful thoughts and his heart was flooded in anger and pain. His daughter...his beautiful daughter hadn't even survived. His very being caused the people linked to him to die. It was his curse since he was a child. His once bright gold eyes had shone like a wishing star but now the gold was stained red from tears and become dull, lacking the will of life. All he could muster the energy to do was stare at the flames and wish this was another nightmare.
IC:
Family. This aspect of the dark warriors life seemed to run from him. His parents died, his adoptive mother died, his second adoptive parents split up and left him in Crimson Dreams and now his mate of just three months had run off and his daughter had never lived to see a day. In the dark basement he had escaped not wanting any of his pack members to find him. He had stayed in bed for most of the morning and eventually dragged himself down to the large dark room and lit the fireplace. There he sat, staring, eyes florid with hot tears that clung to the dark circles forming under his eyes. He had fathered a child, a daughter. He was a father but she hadn't survived. Did the world not see him fit to be happy? Inside of him his heart bleed, he wanted to scream, he wanted to run, he wanted to fight but all he could do was sit on the cold floor staring at the flames.
His left hand held a bloody white bandage he had tied around his lower right arm the night before but he hadn't the energy or will to change. The wound was a very pleasant deep bite mark that had drawn blood instantly in a fight to save the young Mati from this loner beast. Now, that day seemed centuries ago, yet it had only happened all but two days ago. The old stairs made noises as the scent of Naniko filled the room. The dark knight did not move. Instead he stared into the flames and watched them dance, “Naniko.” He said coldly. His chest ached, his head was filled with awful thoughts and his heart was flooded in anger and pain. His daughter...his beautiful daughter hadn't even survived. His very being caused the people linked to him to die. It was his curse since he was a child. His once bright gold eyes had shone like a wishing star but now the gold was stained red from tears and become dull, lacking the will of life. All he could muster the energy to do was stare at the flames and wish this was another nightmare.