[9:20 PM] [SPICY] seamoney: Claire was once again, wandering around in the city. It was a fine evening, and with Leodin bodyguarding the stout employers, She found herself with some free time, and is now on the search for something to spend that free time doing.
[9:45 PM] [SPICY] seamoney: And then it got late so she went back to her room in the inn. Alisa managed to get a seperate room (and also has income to pay for it) and yeah nothing happened
[9:45 PM] [SPICY] seamoney: ===rp end===
[10:43 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "Ah yes, Kalenzo, just like that. Your shots are as perfect as the art we make, that fact makes me so proud to be your mentor." A familiar voice spoke, his distinguished grizzled voice ringing in Kalenzo's mind.
[10:43 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "You're quite the stellar student, I'd even be honored to call you my son... My son... My son...." It rang once more, the last words of it causing a pang of guilt and regret to reverberate throughout his entire body... The artist's thoughts shifted, a scene he couldn't seem to forget coming into view. It was that day, the day his mentor, the man he'd call his father asked him to do the unspeakable...
"Einar no! I ca- I can't do this!" A young Kalenzo responded, fear and a melancholic sense of betrayal filling his eyes as his teacher clasped a hand on the boy's shoulder.
[10:43 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "Yes, you can, Kalenzo. I believe I'm getting too old and I fear my mind might start drifting away. I'm asking you to provide me the honor of being made into perfection. Please, don't make me beg." He responded, his smile both warm and endearing as it spoke those morbid words. The scene then shifted, the image of the man's smile seeming to burn away to the horrifying scene of Kalenzo slaughtering his teacher, the same man who watched with a pained smile as his very own entrails were ripped out from his flesh. He almost seemed to whisper something before finally succumbing to his fate.
[10:44 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "Perfection, never forget..."
[10:44 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "Gods, no... Einar... Father..." Kalenzo whimpered, tears finally beginning to stream down his face. The scene shifted once more, the boy had taken a step back, much like an artist marvelling their finished display. It was done, Einar- no, his Father's request had been fulfilled. The young virtuoso then fell to his knees, weeping as he clutched the cloak and the knife he had been provided for being such a valued student...
[10:44 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "...No!" Kalenzo exclaimed jolting upright as he awoke in a cold sweat, his breathing both shallow and irregular. He looked down to his shuddering hands, this was real life, and it was a life he was a part of. The man took deeper and deeper breaths in order to calm himself before his vision drifted to his bedstand, the same place he'd always kept it. The knife that Einar had provided him, and the same knife that he had used to make art out of his mentor.
[10:45 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "Gods, it just wasn't fair..." He muttered to himself, grabbing the source of his sudden grief by the handle and unsheathing it. The blade was a beautiful shade of dark indigo, Einar always said he had made it himself.
[10:45 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "...You owe me more than just a knife and a fight against the world, you old bastard..." The bowman cursed, giving it careful examination before angrily sheathing the blade and carefully placing it back on his bedside.
[10:45 PM] ColdToiletSeat: "...How could you just ask me to take you out of this world? Just like that?" He asked, staring at the inn's roof, tears beginning to well up in his eyes, much like that very day...
[10:45 PM] ColdToiletSeat: =====End RP=====
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