Post by bastien on Mar 3, 2009 17:07:10 GMT -5
Night washed over the lovely park as high laced, olden styled English boots clacked against the concrete. Concrete, a horrid invention that robbed the world of it's beauty. Instead of smooth dirt or cobbled stones, or bricks there was this grey matter absolutely everywhere. The young looking boy wrinkled his nose at it in distain glad that modern cities had not gotten rid of their parks. Trees still existed as was the surprise to the ancient child.
Stopping beneath a harsh false light from light pole he tugged at the lace of his undershirt out around the cuffs of his jacket. His cane was tucked neatly under his arm as he did so and his black velvet top hat obscured his face from view. To some passerby not paying much attention he would look an odd sight in his old styled clothes. Perhaps an old British gent who loved the theatrics, or a fop who liked dressing up. Or some eccentric millionaire taking a late night stroll before a night cap.
No it was only a young, teenage boy they saw pale in complexion and serious in manner. A young couple, hands intwined, even slowed at the sight of him fixing his shirt cuffs. The boy lifted his head slightly fixing them with a cold stare only befiting that of one who's been alive for a few hundred years. A stare of one cold eye and one black silk eye patch. They didn't know why but they wanted to leave, and quickly. He nods fractionally then bows his head again waiting for less idiotic prey.
Besides he hated couples, they disgusted him. With their love and their blantant displays of affection. He'd hated it a hundred years ago but he hated it even more now. In this time people saw no problem with climbing all over each other in public practically eating each other's face. Revolting. A sharp shake of the head to clear his mind of such nauseating thoughts but then he caught a scent. A glorious, wonderful scent. A mother.
How could he tell it was a mother? Her little brat's scent was all over her for one, and there was just something about mothers that smelled differently. Over years of chosing them he knew their scent like a favorite wine. Lifting his head he spotted her. Wedding band clear to the eye, food stains on her clothes, and a large purse perfect for toting around a child's small toys. A mother.
He took off his top hat, and set it on top of his cane which he propped against a nearby tree. Dealing with those two items always seemed to be so dreadfully taxing. Striding away from the tree he jumped into a jog then a ran out to the sidewalk just as the woman passed by. They collided the woman catching him up in her arms.
"Oh, my! Young man you need to wa-"
"They're chasing me!" He frantically clung to her his eyes filling with tears. "Please, ma'm they've been chasing me for hours!"
The woman instantly looked concerned as she strained to find these people who were chasing this oddly dressed boy. "I don't see anyone. Maybe they gave up?"
"No! They're hiding behind that tree. They won't come out while you're here. Please, ma'm they beat me up every week after play practice." She furrowed her brows as she stared down at him anger sparking in her eyes. The bully trick always to worked on mothers. Her eyes went to the large tree he'd set his things under but couldn't see anything. Then, wait. "I think I see something."
Of course she saw something for he made her see a shadow, a glimpse of what might be a hiding body. He continued to cling to her the tears falling slowly his eyes darting to te tree then back to the woman.
"Please, make them go away." He pleaded stepping to the side a bit and behind her a step or two. Still clinging to one of her arms he shook with what she would guess was fear. Glancing at him once more she smiled softly and patted his hair nodding.
"Of course." The woman started for the tree putting on her threatening mother face. Once her back was to him all emotions drained from the boy's face. A lifeless doll stood there now staring with absolute hate as she headed to the shadows. With a dry face he then followed her, the darkness swollowing them both.
"You boys should be ashamed of-" She stopped as she reached the deep shadows of the back of the tree. "I don't see anyone here are you su-" Silence.
A few minutes later boots clack on the concrete followed by the light tap of a cane. His hand lifts a white laced handkerchief to life filled red lips to dab away three drops of crimson.
Stopping beneath a harsh false light from light pole he tugged at the lace of his undershirt out around the cuffs of his jacket. His cane was tucked neatly under his arm as he did so and his black velvet top hat obscured his face from view. To some passerby not paying much attention he would look an odd sight in his old styled clothes. Perhaps an old British gent who loved the theatrics, or a fop who liked dressing up. Or some eccentric millionaire taking a late night stroll before a night cap.
No it was only a young, teenage boy they saw pale in complexion and serious in manner. A young couple, hands intwined, even slowed at the sight of him fixing his shirt cuffs. The boy lifted his head slightly fixing them with a cold stare only befiting that of one who's been alive for a few hundred years. A stare of one cold eye and one black silk eye patch. They didn't know why but they wanted to leave, and quickly. He nods fractionally then bows his head again waiting for less idiotic prey.
Besides he hated couples, they disgusted him. With their love and their blantant displays of affection. He'd hated it a hundred years ago but he hated it even more now. In this time people saw no problem with climbing all over each other in public practically eating each other's face. Revolting. A sharp shake of the head to clear his mind of such nauseating thoughts but then he caught a scent. A glorious, wonderful scent. A mother.
How could he tell it was a mother? Her little brat's scent was all over her for one, and there was just something about mothers that smelled differently. Over years of chosing them he knew their scent like a favorite wine. Lifting his head he spotted her. Wedding band clear to the eye, food stains on her clothes, and a large purse perfect for toting around a child's small toys. A mother.
He took off his top hat, and set it on top of his cane which he propped against a nearby tree. Dealing with those two items always seemed to be so dreadfully taxing. Striding away from the tree he jumped into a jog then a ran out to the sidewalk just as the woman passed by. They collided the woman catching him up in her arms.
"Oh, my! Young man you need to wa-"
"They're chasing me!" He frantically clung to her his eyes filling with tears. "Please, ma'm they've been chasing me for hours!"
The woman instantly looked concerned as she strained to find these people who were chasing this oddly dressed boy. "I don't see anyone. Maybe they gave up?"
"No! They're hiding behind that tree. They won't come out while you're here. Please, ma'm they beat me up every week after play practice." She furrowed her brows as she stared down at him anger sparking in her eyes. The bully trick always to worked on mothers. Her eyes went to the large tree he'd set his things under but couldn't see anything. Then, wait. "I think I see something."
Of course she saw something for he made her see a shadow, a glimpse of what might be a hiding body. He continued to cling to her the tears falling slowly his eyes darting to te tree then back to the woman.
"Please, make them go away." He pleaded stepping to the side a bit and behind her a step or two. Still clinging to one of her arms he shook with what she would guess was fear. Glancing at him once more she smiled softly and patted his hair nodding.
"Of course." The woman started for the tree putting on her threatening mother face. Once her back was to him all emotions drained from the boy's face. A lifeless doll stood there now staring with absolute hate as she headed to the shadows. With a dry face he then followed her, the darkness swollowing them both.
"You boys should be ashamed of-" She stopped as she reached the deep shadows of the back of the tree. "I don't see anyone here are you su-" Silence.
A few minutes later boots clack on the concrete followed by the light tap of a cane. His hand lifts a white laced handkerchief to life filled red lips to dab away three drops of crimson.
