
His days always started slow. They didn't start late-- he awoke with the earliest riser in the lower recesses, which was to say at the crack of dawn. The early risers tended to prepare themselves quickly and leave early to do their duties. He would follow them in their rituals to a point, being of aid when he could, otherwise just providing company, a gentle reminder of steps they may have forgotten. He'd awake from his position...The air in the mornings was cold, it always bit at his nose and clung to his skin. He was always cold...
It was part of his own private ritual. So many steps he'd learned in his all too short life, things designed to keep him healthy in body, soul, and mind. Ever since he was young, still on his mother's teat, he'd practiced certain techniques. It was an act of balance, an equalizer. He stuck to routine as often as he could, an upstart threatened much worse than a bad start to a day. Since before birth he'd suffered from a debilitating condition, something that made him different from his rambunctious prison members. If they could even be called that.
The man's heart beat differently than others if at all. He'd known this almost as soon as he began to have conscious thought. His mother was a rock, her heart beat was steady and slow. As early as he could remember, he could remember sinking into the sound of it, wrapping himself in the comfort of her life-giving breath. Even now, he took every opportunity that presented itself to fall asleep with his head cradled against her bosom. The thought of seeming childish never entered his mind. But that might of just been the wolf in him...
Each morning he sank into himself the way he had sunk into his mother. His breathing grew slow, controlled. Each breath was deep, filling his chest cavity to capacity. He held his breath for several seconds before slowly exhaling, looking inward. His heart beat was hollow... but still powered his body. The beats were slow...blank...and cold, the sound not as deep and robust as he yearned it to be. There was a slosh, always a worry, blood leaking from where it was meant to be. Every morning he felt unsettled. his heart was cold and the blood that ran through his veins was made of ice...but he would not let that change him. Not in the slightest.
He filled his mind with pure, intelligent thoughts. The sound of his past tormentors, his enemies. The sound of the monsters he was forced to face as a boy, each unique, their beats as fast as their mouths or their inquisitive minds. He focused, another deep breath, looked inward again. Slowly the beat of his heart leaned towards a more steady pace, calm energy pooled just above his gut. Around him, the sounds of his brothers in arms joining the world of the waking went ignored, his entire being preoccupied by maintaining the positive.
'This is me.' was the thought, 'And I can be as strong as I want.' His heart agreed, compromising on a steady if weak beat. Satisfied, he pulled himself back to the present, his breathing slowly returning to normal. His bright blue eyes opened, greeting the climate he found himself in. He was...here again. His bright eyes scanned the very large area...placing his hands into his pocket. The man looked out from the library at the formations. Wearing what...he could only assume was formal clothing... It was close enough to be honest...he wore a black jacket that came up to his lower rib cage, white fur ringed around the collar. He also wore black pants with several white straps upon them and...a unique pair of shoes that could actually fit his...special anatomy. as he entered the 'club' that he had constantly heard off...apparently it was brand new and just opened last night...one night and it became the hottest club around. How nice. Sparda automatically felt like an outcast...everyone here had a partner with them or was hanging around with someone socializing. Hell, Sparda felt like he was the only one there who was alone.
Sparda's eye twitched at this and he slowly shifted to the side of the place. Going off on his own he found a comfortable chair and decided to just sit. He was content with just looking for now, since he did not have the guts to talk to anyone. Especially a woman...so he sat at the corner of the club and just watched everyone else have fun. Frankly, the only reason he was here was for the food...shame it had to be a loud club where he did not fit in compared to a restaurant. No matter...he would simply wait until he felt like getting up to get something to eat. His snowy white hair fell messily upon his face as he sighed...putting his twin tails onto his lap and stroking them gently, his canine like ears swiveled atop his head...god it was loud.
Seanna Vel