- Messages
- 107
- Character Biography
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"I don't know that I'll ever grow used to it."
Villam spoke partly to himself, leaning against the window looking out into the city, the cold winter air rushing through in frigid bursts to nip and bite at his flesh. Once more his narrowed gaze scanned the horizon, expecting to see that tower of such prominence reaching high up into the clouded sky and vanishing into the mist. He would not find it. That place was the landmark of his home, Valenntenia. A city he'd left behind, with no intention to ever return to the Tower, his Father, or his duty as a Guardian.
But he was not the only one who'd left.
Turning his head to look back to the bed he'd just risen from, those sharp eyes softened he regarded the form of his lover, Vazia, still draped in the white sheet they'd shared the night prior. "I look out every morning expecting to see the Tower, the somners filing in for morning court, the sound of the Vanguard training across the way... I'd have called you crazy if you'd told me I'd miss the place but..." Truthfully, she probably had raised the possibility to him once or twice. Ferreira was good about taking every possibility into account. Sometimes to an infuriating degree.
Regis hadn't just been a citizen of Valenntenia, or a Guardian, but he'd been the son of the city's leader. He'd gotten so damned sick of it all; The drama surrounding the political players vying for power, the pressure of acting as the Absalon's only offspring, and then the rapid vanishings of Guardians across the roster. Dominoes were falling, and Villam intended not to be the next victim.
"I keep wondering if we've made a mistake, Vazia." Villam stepped away from the window, sighing as he sat beside her, reaching to the floor for his clothes. They would be moving on today; This inn was worth but a night of their coin, and they couldn't afford to stay any longer. Not for lack of funds, but because of the two objects wrapped in a small sack at the foot of the bed, lightly pushed underneath the bedframe so as to remain partially hidden. "There's little I want more than to escape what we were. To start over. Together."
Ever since the night they'd first danced, Villam had been totally infatuated with Vazia. Things had moved quicky, admittedly. A dance turned into a kiss, which turned into a night shared in his bed. Still, this bond they'd found was an undeniable one.
"But the Stones... I know we should leave them, somewhere they can be found by what's left of the Guardians. I just..." He looked to Ferreira, concern wrinkling his brow. Vazia was known to be somewhat dependent on her stone. While her dependency had decreased drastically since they'd began their relationship as a couple... "I'm worried about you, Vazia."
Vazia Ferreira
Villam spoke partly to himself, leaning against the window looking out into the city, the cold winter air rushing through in frigid bursts to nip and bite at his flesh. Once more his narrowed gaze scanned the horizon, expecting to see that tower of such prominence reaching high up into the clouded sky and vanishing into the mist. He would not find it. That place was the landmark of his home, Valenntenia. A city he'd left behind, with no intention to ever return to the Tower, his Father, or his duty as a Guardian.
But he was not the only one who'd left.
Turning his head to look back to the bed he'd just risen from, those sharp eyes softened he regarded the form of his lover, Vazia, still draped in the white sheet they'd shared the night prior. "I look out every morning expecting to see the Tower, the somners filing in for morning court, the sound of the Vanguard training across the way... I'd have called you crazy if you'd told me I'd miss the place but..." Truthfully, she probably had raised the possibility to him once or twice. Ferreira was good about taking every possibility into account. Sometimes to an infuriating degree.
Regis hadn't just been a citizen of Valenntenia, or a Guardian, but he'd been the son of the city's leader. He'd gotten so damned sick of it all; The drama surrounding the political players vying for power, the pressure of acting as the Absalon's only offspring, and then the rapid vanishings of Guardians across the roster. Dominoes were falling, and Villam intended not to be the next victim.
"I keep wondering if we've made a mistake, Vazia." Villam stepped away from the window, sighing as he sat beside her, reaching to the floor for his clothes. They would be moving on today; This inn was worth but a night of their coin, and they couldn't afford to stay any longer. Not for lack of funds, but because of the two objects wrapped in a small sack at the foot of the bed, lightly pushed underneath the bedframe so as to remain partially hidden. "There's little I want more than to escape what we were. To start over. Together."
Ever since the night they'd first danced, Villam had been totally infatuated with Vazia. Things had moved quicky, admittedly. A dance turned into a kiss, which turned into a night shared in his bed. Still, this bond they'd found was an undeniable one.
"But the Stones... I know we should leave them, somewhere they can be found by what's left of the Guardians. I just..." He looked to Ferreira, concern wrinkling his brow. Vazia was known to be somewhat dependent on her stone. While her dependency had decreased drastically since they'd began their relationship as a couple... "I'm worried about you, Vazia."
Vazia Ferreira
