Thread: Heros and Villains and-What the Heck?! (Anaeria and Dublin)

Isolation. He'd always considered it something of a good thing. A chance to train without being interrupted, a chance to listen to his master's teachings without being distracted. To be alone, to him, was the second most important thing of his life. But now? Well, the comforting silence was all that he had. His master was dead, the purpose he had followed for so long having quickly followed. There was nothing else but the quiet, but the relative peace. His home had grown disheveled over the last few months cloths littered the floor, dirty plates had been piled up in the sink. The servants his master had hired were all quick to leave when word of his death reached them. It would be depressing, they had claimed. They would be reminded to often of their beloved employer. And yet, the young man very much doubted their claims, though had never bothered to voice his concerns. Indeed, he very much preferred for them to leave. They had always viewed him with scorn, hadn't they? The quiet little boy, unable to hold even a half-decent conversation. They had always looked at him with a certain level of contempt, their eyes always glistening with annoyance that they could only just barely hide. Yes...yes it was best that they were gone. It was best that he was left to his own devices. To his own thoughts. The couch squeaked a bit beneath him as he learned forward, icy blue eyes staring out through the dusty glass. He twiddled his fingers at he bit at his lip, only just barely paying to the events outside. A new face apparently had decided to take up residence in one of the local vacant houses. He'd walked past it before. An unruly mess, vines choking at the foundation. Not like it mattered to him, but to your average house hunter...? They'd most likely turn down their noses. Brushing a strand of sweaty black hair from his eyes, he let his gaze travel down to the carpet for a brief moment. He'd been doing this for a couple of days now. Getting up, working out, taking a quick shower, eating a small breakfast, and then plopping his butt right on this couch, not even budging an inch for hours on end. How long would this happen? How long would he be stuck in this stupor? It was like, with his master gone, someone had flipped an off switch in his brain. There was nothing left inside him. Well, mostly. He was just an empty shell mostly, with only one desire floating about. Revenge. His palms curled up into fists as the word traveled through his mind, body trembling a bit as those traces of anger began to grow. The one who had done it, the one who had killed his master. Just thought of tearing him limb from limb brought forth a sensation that was so wrong and yet at the same time brought a small little smile to his otherwise stony features. Oh, he would enjoy it so much. Whoever had done it, he would make sure that they'd beg. That they'd get on their hands and knees and plead for him to offer mercy. And would he? He couldn't help but chuckle slighty at the thought, the smile of his only growing. No, no he wouldn't. He make them suffer, he'd make them sob in pain again and again and again and again and again and again- He was nearly bouncing up and down, his whole body tingling. -and again and again and again and again and again- The blood was rushing through his veins, the adrenaline almost too much. -and again an- ...! He froze, features slacking and form relaxing. He'd nearly lost control there...that was... I need some fresh air... With another couple squeaks he pulled him up from the couch, rubbing the sweat off his forehead before quickly almost too quickly making out of the living room and towards the door. A walk will be good... With a creak, the door was yanked open. A flood of light was the first thing that greeted him, the young man wincing just a bit as it burned at his eyes. Raising a pale hand, he held it over his eyes as he emerged into the daylight, shutting the door behind him before moving out onto the sidewalk. He'd dressed pretty normally, nothing too out of place. A simple, black flannel shirt was accompanied by a pair of slacks and tennis shoes. Hardly appropriate for a fight, but he had no plans on getting into one. At least...yet. As he made his way down the sidewalk, the young man couldn't help but let his gaze wander for just a brief second. Settling upon the house from just before, he took note of the home's new owner. A red-headed woman, roughly around his age give or take. A normal human probably wouldn't take note of her beauty, of her brilliant hair or fair skin. And yet, to the young man, not a thing went through his mind. Hm...