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+----- Thread: is there some happiness for me ✨ luca (/showthread.php?tid=5845)
is there some happiness for me ✨ luca - no more - 09-03-2018
[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8.4pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]Though he was counted amongst the youngest, a child for the mere fact of his youth yet he harboured no other attribute to speak of such, holding tight to a maturity cultivated simply because it was expected of him. But what of the boy, cast aside for this illusion of something grander than he truly is, broken and alone, cast into the depths of something he is unequipped to handle. Beneath the surface one may find he still lingers, clinging to the cracks and showing in brief increments, rising when the heart stutters and breath hitches, when the pain grows to a point he can't bare the brunt of it alone.
It does not matter the power he holds nor the responsibilities which arise within his work, he is a child still, so young and unprepared for the world as it closes iron teeth about him.
For a time he had worried upon the thought, found his mind drawn back as though it were a moth drawn to the flame, ever bold for its naivety, yet he knew the risk and it proved strong enough to push aside the want for a time. And then his eyes found it once more, the small figure standing upon the edge of his work space, simple in its shape, a pale ghost in comparison to the one he modelled it after. There had been no need for Luca to be present, to care at all for him in such a time when he had been left bloodied and beaten, a situation brought about by his own stupidity. Such had not barred the hellhound, however, something with him driving him to approach though never could Silus put into words any sort of reason behind the action, merely ponder as to what reason there might have been. Never did his mind graze over the fact it might simply have been a faint glimmer of something good in his, a heart not stone but soft, prone to moments of kindness no matter the demonic nature he bore.
Abandoning his work for the moment the bengal swept up the figure, tucking it into an inner pocket of his satchel, ever worn now for many seemed prone to needing his assistance. It was only as his steps drew him from the cobble lined pathway leading to the tavern down onto the beach of the bay the thought he knew not where Luca lived arose, a faint groan escaping pursed lips. Surely it wouldn't prove difficult to locate where the Striker resided for he carried with him a sweet smell, that of baked goods freshly pulled from the heat of the oven, one of the few Silus favoured for it was pleasant. Aimless was the tread he picked up, drawing him about the bay, hoping to catch sight of the one he sought or otherwise pick up the smell, teeth worrying at his lower lip.
[member=1517]Luca[/member]