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- Cooking SprayExperienced Member
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Baths of Caracalla [Open]
Sat Mar 24, 2018 5:46 pm
The Quincy Prodigy
Sofia Montero
Song: N/a STUFF - Artist: N/A STUFF - Words: N/A
Despite her youth, it seemed like such a long time since she had started her journey. The progress, both good and bad, had illuminated and shrouded in darkness the path she walked. Everything was much easier to understand, though that did not necessarily make it a good thing. She had met plenty of interesting people, strong, and not. The Quincy had faced off against some of the most powerful beings in creation, some of which had no equal save for a select one or two she was never bound to meet anyways. In the end, despite the power she possessed and the power she had grown around, her mind went back to one of her first official missions with the Vandenreich, and how time had done its duty in bringing light to concepts she had been blinded to in the past.
At the time, Gift was among the most powerful Quincy around. Of course, not many knew of his whereabouts, and half of her race thought him as dead; just as he had wanted. He had refused to lend a hand to the Quincy or anyone else for that matter. He had wanted to live alone, to be left alone, and to eventually die alone. It was a sentiment she couldn’t understand at the time, but now, now it was different. Her train of thought was temporarily put to rest as the piano began to play, a single harp stroked its cords, and an extremely large orchestra of violins, viola, and cello started off. Moments later, a pair of singers, a tenor and a soprano, projected their voices to commence the main event.
It was a very special and expensive concert held at the ancient Baths of Caracalla in Rome, Italy. The kind of music presented required a very particular acquired taste, and the ticket price required a lot of disposable income. The cheapest tickets started off at just over $2,000 and they sat the farthest away. For those sitting much closer to the front like Sofia, the ticketing price hovered at right around $10,000. While it wasn’t completely inaccessible, it was safe to assume those who attended had more than enough wealth to spend. Despite her own duties, the Quincy prodigy had continuously made an effort to find time for the things she enjoyed; lately, there were not many.
Back at the city of light, her latest position was one of power, and which inspired respect. She was the Sternritter Grandmaster. It required not just power but also a voice that could lead and lets echo be firm and provide sustenance for her people. That was it. Beyond that, the girl had grown a bit discontent with the current affair of the world. There wasn’t anything that could really surprise her anymore. The very few whose power could would likely not be met. The lofty goals the Quincy once had for were not as easily attained, and more like foolish dreams. The very best she could do was continue to do her job as best she could. The very best she could do was live her life until she died, and the world along with it.
As the concert continued, the girl toyed with the edges of her prized regalia ring. It was part of a Quincy’s power long forgotten. There were many things the Quincy and the world continued to be ignorant to, and it seemed like no one would miss them if they were truly forgotten to time. Taking a cup of champagne that was brought to her, the woman stood up and walked just past the edges of the outdoor seating area. The music could still be heard loudly there, a courtesy of the very best equipment money could buy. At almost every counter, and every area there were guards, all of which possessed semblance of spiritual energy, and a fair amount of strength. The night was calm. It was fun yet boring. With the death of the night came a morning Sofia didn’t much care to see rise. Could the same be said for things to come? Was hope truly cast away to be forgotten, and her will all but vanished? It seemed likely. For the time being she simply watched, and drank, and waited.
Coding By: [THEFROST]
- ShizuoGremlin
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Re: Baths of Caracalla [Open]
Mon Apr 02, 2018 9:45 pm
ENTER THE DEPTHS
Artist: N/A - Song: N/A - Word Count: 963
The faint caress of the piano’s music was a overture to the windy night sky above. Upon the ruined and aged spire of a tower, with it’s age and it’s majesty having been eroded by the years--she sat. Her eyes like the moon, oh so far away and yet luminous in the night as she glanced down upon the festivities below. She was like a fairy of the moon, adorned in the spotless shades of white of her attire. Celestial might by an apt description, something that had not belonged in this world in the first place. Something that had withstood the passages of time. Yes there on that eroded tower’s peak Rakki yagurashi date, of the date clan, sat. She who had gone from the weakest in all creation to a being who commanded the respect and lead an entire race within the path they had set out for so long ago.
Yet, those silvery moon-kissed eyes set upon her fairy-like face was not looking upon the sky above, nay it was studying the crowd below. The melodies of the piano as it was played by an experts hand had a way of reaching her, caressing the heart that lay ensconced by the ice of age and necessity. Her eyes drifted across the crowd until they settled on Sofia, the girl who had vanished from the vandenreich a spell. This girl. . . she had been so stubborn, a firebrand that sought to push them in the direction she felt was right. Rakki’s eyes studied her, while to the outside world it would seem as if she was weaker than the average human, a mundane.
Mundane in the sense that her energy, not even a sliver was escaping the pristine sanctity of her skin. She was not here on this night as the leader of the vandenreich, instead as she listened to the music, the smallest of smiles seemed to curve like phantoms upon her lips. The softness of her gaze was not anything like the harsh leader that would do anything, and kill anything for the betterment of the race she so loved. Those eyes for once shone with something other than the determination of the cause, instead they were like the fires of a hearth--warm and inviting.
One leg lay dangling off the edge of the roof, while the other remain against her bosom, hugged by her smooth arms, delicate fingers clasped together against the bony surface of her shin. Rakki sat there in the midst of the warm italian air, overlooking the crowd below, and for once was a nobody in the large thrum of a crowd. No one would be asking her to do paper work tonight, no one would be asking her to join a council, she did not have to deal with the queens of nations, nor the rulers of humanity. She could simply be herself as she studied the demeanor of the sternritter grandmaster, studied the way her face glinted in the lights below, even as the moon lightly illuminated the quincy crosses that lay dangling from the elects ears.
”She has come far, she is not the brash girl that she once was. “
Rakki’s expression shifted across the ruined landscape and her lips shifted as her smile seemed to be one of a bittersweet kind of joy. How wonderful had this place been within her memories? It had illuminated the city with it’s splendor at one point, and yet now all that was left of it’s grandeur was this lonely shell. The world was revolving endlessly, and here she was--stuck within it’s endless cycle.
”Everyone that knew me . . is. . truly gone. Ah, how many years has it been now? I have become something different, and yet i cannot truly be myself because of it.”
The elect’s eyes shifted before she rested her chin atop her knee and glanced down at sofia and continued to study the girl. So youthful and full of vigor, full of determination for the future. Rakki seemed to glance once more , as she closed her eyes and then shook her head slowly. The bad, was like quagmire that weighed upon her soul, but she would not let it dictate the future, and the present. As such as the whistling of wind being expunged from her lips was accompanied by her silver gaze sweeping across the crowd once more as she mumbled to no one but the wind.
”Aaah, look at me moping of yesteryears. That isn’t befitting of me at all, right?”
The girl with the snow-colored hair let that rhetorical question be whisked away by the wind before thinking to herself once more.
”Right. . ?”
Template By:
[THEFROST]
[THEFROST]