Post by Cesare Haidar Eilert Zarek on Jul 20, 2016 16:19:00 GMT -6
To be or not to be, that was not the fucking question. It was not an answer either or something a sane person should ask. You live and you die - it’s not a choice. Oh how many timed had he not turned his head towards the blackened sky and begged the Gods to finally feel the cold fingers of death. Had he not been beaten enough? Bled enough? What more did They wish from him? He’d felt the tightness of a rope around his neck and the pain of iron in his flesh. And still They did not let him rest. Was he not done?
Everything he once had, he’d lost - one painful piece at a time. Even his beauty they had taken away, leaving only memories and a smile. When would this end? Would he become one of those with empty souls, walking around, taking up space and air from those who had it all. Neither alive nor dead, he would walk aimlessly until someone showed him pity and let him out of his misery.
How far away was that thruth? How long until he crossed the line of loosing himself in the void, never to return again? Was there a line to cross at all? No. There were no boundaries left to break. Nothing people could do that would make him feel uncormfortable. He’d done it all. There was nothing the world could throw at him that would make him back down.
Then why did he feel this way?
There was nothing behind this door that should frighten him more than looking at complete darkness and feel the rope tighten around his frail neck while people laughed. There was nothing, but yet he paused with his hand on the polished wood. Only the movement of Floyd on his shoulder managed to draw his attention back to the present time and the daunting task at hand. Pushing the door open did nothing but force a wall of sound, smells and warmth upon the man and again he paused.
Did he have a choice? Would it be better for all if he continued to play dead amongst the leaves and trees in the wilderness? Or should he have done this a long time ago, when there still was hope for a mild retribution. He would never know, for as the door closed behind him, his fate was sealed.
There was nothing about him, except for the large bird on his shoulder, that should have drawn any unwanted attention towards him. His garments was as normal as they could be, consisting of brown leather boots, loose black trousers and a belt, a somewhat dirty, but loose white shirt and a brown hood drawn over his head. At first glance, people wouldn’t think twice about him, but as he lifted his hand and pulled the hood back, revealing his face, some of the men and women gathered at the Inn, stared.
Once, before all this, Cesare would have been considered as good looking, but years of abuse and harsh living, had etched itself into his skin and destroyed it. The massive scar from his forehead to his cheek did nothing but draw unwanted attention towards his eye. Not even the eternal smile that was carved into his flesh could compete with the eye that lacked a pupil. But he’d accepted it, after years of grieving over his own stupid mistakes that he now carried for everyone to see.
Let them stare.
Without giving the other people attention, he let Floyd make his way down his arm and finally hop over to the top rail of an empty chair. The ugly bird seemed more than satisfied to get some time to go over it’s feathers. It was one of the things he liked with his companion; there was no need to entertain it. As long as Floyd got the opportunity to fly once in a while, he always came back.
Cesare removed the brown hood and the table in front of the bird before pulling up the sleeve on his left arm. The leather gauntlet that hid the blade was removed with skilled fingers and laid carefully on the hood before he sat down. He knew the rules too well to break them now and he was already in deep shit. Hearing the chatter start again, he breathed heavily. The calm before the storm was past. It was just minutes, maybe seconds until hell broke loose and things changed again. And he could do nothing about it.
Sinking further into his chair, he leaned on his left arm as he covered his eyes with it. It was not due to embarrassment nor cowardice. He just wanted a moment of peace. A second to think. He needed it badly. Then he heard footsteps approching and the lowering of voices. He did not need to look up to know who was standing there. He already knew.
Without any rush, he removed his hand and let it fall down before leaning his head back against the chair. Floyd became restless, but Cesare did nothing as he fixed his blue gaze on the man that held his fate in his hand.
Cry havoc and release the dogs of war.
He was ready.
Talen Mythik Aureon Gale & Brady
Everything he once had, he’d lost - one painful piece at a time. Even his beauty they had taken away, leaving only memories and a smile. When would this end? Would he become one of those with empty souls, walking around, taking up space and air from those who had it all. Neither alive nor dead, he would walk aimlessly until someone showed him pity and let him out of his misery.
How far away was that thruth? How long until he crossed the line of loosing himself in the void, never to return again? Was there a line to cross at all? No. There were no boundaries left to break. Nothing people could do that would make him feel uncormfortable. He’d done it all. There was nothing the world could throw at him that would make him back down.
Then why did he feel this way?
There was nothing behind this door that should frighten him more than looking at complete darkness and feel the rope tighten around his frail neck while people laughed. There was nothing, but yet he paused with his hand on the polished wood. Only the movement of Floyd on his shoulder managed to draw his attention back to the present time and the daunting task at hand. Pushing the door open did nothing but force a wall of sound, smells and warmth upon the man and again he paused.
Did he have a choice? Would it be better for all if he continued to play dead amongst the leaves and trees in the wilderness? Or should he have done this a long time ago, when there still was hope for a mild retribution. He would never know, for as the door closed behind him, his fate was sealed.
There was nothing about him, except for the large bird on his shoulder, that should have drawn any unwanted attention towards him. His garments was as normal as they could be, consisting of brown leather boots, loose black trousers and a belt, a somewhat dirty, but loose white shirt and a brown hood drawn over his head. At first glance, people wouldn’t think twice about him, but as he lifted his hand and pulled the hood back, revealing his face, some of the men and women gathered at the Inn, stared.
Once, before all this, Cesare would have been considered as good looking, but years of abuse and harsh living, had etched itself into his skin and destroyed it. The massive scar from his forehead to his cheek did nothing but draw unwanted attention towards his eye. Not even the eternal smile that was carved into his flesh could compete with the eye that lacked a pupil. But he’d accepted it, after years of grieving over his own stupid mistakes that he now carried for everyone to see.
Let them stare.
Without giving the other people attention, he let Floyd make his way down his arm and finally hop over to the top rail of an empty chair. The ugly bird seemed more than satisfied to get some time to go over it’s feathers. It was one of the things he liked with his companion; there was no need to entertain it. As long as Floyd got the opportunity to fly once in a while, he always came back.
Cesare removed the brown hood and the table in front of the bird before pulling up the sleeve on his left arm. The leather gauntlet that hid the blade was removed with skilled fingers and laid carefully on the hood before he sat down. He knew the rules too well to break them now and he was already in deep shit. Hearing the chatter start again, he breathed heavily. The calm before the storm was past. It was just minutes, maybe seconds until hell broke loose and things changed again. And he could do nothing about it.
Sinking further into his chair, he leaned on his left arm as he covered his eyes with it. It was not due to embarrassment nor cowardice. He just wanted a moment of peace. A second to think. He needed it badly. Then he heard footsteps approching and the lowering of voices. He did not need to look up to know who was standing there. He already knew.
Without any rush, he removed his hand and let it fall down before leaning his head back against the chair. Floyd became restless, but Cesare did nothing as he fixed his blue gaze on the man that held his fate in his hand.
Cry havoc and release the dogs of war.
He was ready.
Talen Mythik Aureon Gale & Brady
