Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20181211225019/@comment-30014014-20190112024433

He had eaten a humble meal in the early morning. A meal composed of sliced pork. Of bread. Of added compositions such as mayonnaise or ketchup. Adorned in a small table, of a mundane plate. Surrounded by close walls in a small domain.One that many of the more wealthy would scoff at.

And yet, it was one of his best meal eaten.Sliced pork handled by one becoming close to him. Her bread bought by her hand. Condiments from the same genesis. The table, the window, the walls, the home, all small, all cozy to his eyes. All of it, filled with care and tender touch, the same afforded to his galvanized hands. Where they would see an all-too average settlement, he saw a true place to be.

And now...he had to quit it...

Perhaps forever...Prad had given his farewells to the nurse who mended his hands. A farewell to Roda, unwilling to hope he'd see her again. A feeling coiled in his heart as the shadow that follows coiled around him the moment he had set foot outside her house. He was to be alone in the nightmare once more. WOuld this one be the permanent solitude?

He feels the man in the wall all too enthusiastic...well, that is an overstatement. A darkened contentment fills his sight as the road becomes...pale. It was unlikely that he'd slip such a grip on the young man another time.

Prad makes his way to the castle, to Armata's throne. His eyes and facial features, hidden by his melancholy. Hidden by his shroud. Prad had tasted happiness. True happiness. And now, he didn't believe he'd get another grasp at it ever again. A reflection washing on his demeanor, his voice sullen and grave. He knows the reality of his presence, in realspace...and the pale rift "I'm here..."