Cairyn Midore
Use may be fatal.
Cairyn was never a patient person. When he wanted something done, he wanted it right then and there, often with little concern as to how it got done. The incapability to wait had been cause of many of his plights over the years, leaving him scarred and broken on multiple occasions. This however, he'd taken his time in, had built his power. Not necessarily his choice, of course, but nevertheless, this had been a long time coming.
And yet, he waited still.
The moment wasn't quite right, all the pieces just weren't quite in place. While he was impatient, he was also a man of theatrics, and his audience wasn't there yet. As tempting as it was to move on his own, he'd waited too long to not have the audience he so desired.
Now if only she'd hurry up...
He'd sent a message to the woman who'd almost been the equivalent of a mother to him. Well, less of a message, more of a parcel. Assuming it made it to her, assuming she hadn't written it off as something not even worth her time, she would've found a ticket. There was no letter of introduction, no explanation as to where he'd been or what he'd been to, only a harmless-looking ticket, for a circus. Towards the bottom of said ticket, written in a script that looked incredibly reminiscent of blood, a simple 'pets are welcome'. Perhaps she'd catch the not-so subtle hint, perhaps she wouldn't show at all.
Regardless, he waited for her, his now elongated limbs taking up the majority of a bench. The circus had once been full of life and lights, now it was just short of a ghost town. Every so often, the boy would shudder, taken by the remnants of electricity that coursed through his body - one could almost imagine the tones of his skin altering in a visible representation of the lightning. For this reason, he was almost perpetually in pain though in this particular circumstance, it didn't seem to show. Whether it be painkillers or sheer force of will, he was taken by a chilling sense of calm.
And yet, he waited still.
The moment wasn't quite right, all the pieces just weren't quite in place. While he was impatient, he was also a man of theatrics, and his audience wasn't there yet. As tempting as it was to move on his own, he'd waited too long to not have the audience he so desired.
Now if only she'd hurry up...
He'd sent a message to the woman who'd almost been the equivalent of a mother to him. Well, less of a message, more of a parcel. Assuming it made it to her, assuming she hadn't written it off as something not even worth her time, she would've found a ticket. There was no letter of introduction, no explanation as to where he'd been or what he'd been to, only a harmless-looking ticket, for a circus. Towards the bottom of said ticket, written in a script that looked incredibly reminiscent of blood, a simple 'pets are welcome'. Perhaps she'd catch the not-so subtle hint, perhaps she wouldn't show at all.
Regardless, he waited for her, his now elongated limbs taking up the majority of a bench. The circus had once been full of life and lights, now it was just short of a ghost town. Every so often, the boy would shudder, taken by the remnants of electricity that coursed through his body - one could almost imagine the tones of his skin altering in a visible representation of the lightning. For this reason, he was almost perpetually in pain though in this particular circumstance, it didn't seem to show. Whether it be painkillers or sheer force of will, he was taken by a chilling sense of calm.
[member="Lady Psyona"]