Some time during the Celestial of Vanity, a woman's screams pierced the
night. Blood spewed forth from between her legs, too much blood. A baby's
head starts to show, the crown as supple as a rotten apple. The woman's
screams continue until there is nothing but silence. The midwives gather
around and begin to make preparations for the funeral. It is eerily quiet,
especially with a newborn baby in the room. The midwives are shaken, for no
newborn baby doesn't utter a single sound, especially so as its very own
mother is screaming her death cry. The baby boy is taken to the local
orphanage, a place of cruelty and suffering that the outside tends to never
see. A few years later, the local monastery abbott pays a visit to the
orphanage as per the monastery's rules. At first he doesn't seem to notice
the quiet little boy in the corner, not until he realizes the boy is
WATCHING him. Not watching in the normal sense, but with some profound and
obtruse way, as if he could see not only into the abbott's very soul, but
through it as well. Immediately the abbott took an interest and signed the
necessary documents to send the boy to the monastery where he would be
trained. Several more years pass by, the boy is as quiet as ever though has
shown promise in the martial arts. Too much promise, for too much blood is
cleaned constantly upon the sparring grounds behind the monastery. The
abbott thought he might be able to make sense of the boy, now a young man,
but he was just as confused and baffled as he was from the very first day
they had met. He thought it best to send the man away, lest something far
more sinister happen than a few dead bodies.
Description:
A man dark of skin and lithe of stature stands before you, his almond
eyes focused in intense concentration. Beads of sweat roll down from the
top of a head devoid of any hair and have started to stain the uppermost of
his garments. He is swathed in clothing of a soft yet durable material and
some type of wrap is seen covering his neck. He moves with the grace only
seen in those with the confidence and air of absolute certainty in all
manners. Coal lines the edges of his eyes and sweep backwards over his
temples in a curving gesture. Covering the majority of his body are
swirling patterns and strange designs, all of which have been continuously
made anew with fresh blood. A dark aura wraps itself around the man like a
warm cloak and with it comes the feeling of despair and misery.
[reply to Dogran]
[reply to Ashlyn]