| Feb 19, 2014 5:10:40 GMT -5 |
Post by Feliciano Vargas on Feb 19, 2014 5:10:40 GMT -5
It was too bright out.
Feliciano swore he was having flashbacks of his first days in the Academy--memories that were best left forgotten, he thinks. The same pain pulsed in his eyes; no, no, he was sure they hurt worse, after two years of perpetual gloom. Even with better control over his senses, the mutant's sensitivity only grew more pronounced with age. He didn't really like that part, not at all--you'd think they'd dull, but no, the cold only affects him worse than it had as a child. Evil snow littered the area; even if the square had been freshly shoveled in response to the ongoing festival, a light dusting coated the ground as it fell like powdered sugar from the sky. Obviously its only intent was to freeze his poor fingers and toes, and to reflect the weak sunlight in his face even when he tried to look away. If only the guards had been kind enough to set him in the shade, or at least put Ludwig in one of the large cages next to him. Not that Ludwig's only use is shade, of course not--but the combination of friendly company and protection from the various devilish elements would've been greatly appreciated right about now. In fact, it would've made the entire day perfect.
Despite the cold and dull aches the Italian had to suffer through, today was easily one of the best days of his life. Post-induction to the Underground, of course. The Academy might have some very bad memories Feliciano would prefer not to think about, but it was also the source of many happy and great days he'd cherish forever. Today was something to be treasured as well--he knew that the humans celebrated this festival every year, but this was the first time he had ever gotten to experience it firsthand. The young man hunkered further beneath his blanket with his eyes closed and a little smile on his face, simply relaxing against the hard bars of his latest prison. He didn't even need to see the vibrant sights of the festival to enjoy it; he could simply listen to it all instead, and probably find more things to enjoy than most of the other mutants--not that he didn't want them to enjoy themselves, but most were happy to simply sit and entertain the humans who wandered by in hopes of being purchased later on. Feliciano, however, wanted to enjoy everything the humans could.
There was music playing from the far side of the square--a solo violinist, probably trying to earn some extra cash from the large crowds flocking from stall to stall. The music was warm and lively, fitting in perfectly with the joviality of the celebration, and Feliciano knew he wasn't the only one appreciating the sounds. Every once in a while, the soft jangle of coins falling in what sounded like a box of some sort--maybe the violin case, if the cushioning was worn almost completely away. People were more generous in crowds, at least when it came to other humans. They didn't want to be viewed badly by their peers, let alone strangers. He could understand the reasoning behind that, since Feliciano himself didn't like the idea of people thinking poorly of him. (Some people, he couldn't be bothered to care about, but there's always that little self-conscious niggling at the back of one's mind hoping to make the best impression, befriend everyone you come across. He couldn't help that) If he could, the Italian would offer up some sort of offering of his own for the musician; to play that well from memory was never something Feliciano had been good at. He also hadn't picked up anything remotely similar to an instrument in years, so what little skills he had must've been gone by now. Unfortunately, the mutants were out here more as curiosity pieces for the humans than their own amusement, so he could only sit here and listen in from a distance. Hopefully the man would make enough money for whatever he needed it for.
As much as he enjoyed the violin solo, however, it was almost impossible to ignore the sound of Lovino purring like an engine further down the row of cages. It was distracting, just how loud his brother was. Feliciano didn't even try to smother the amused grin tugging up the corners of his lips; it was all too easy to imagine just how pretty the young woman was, the one with the jangling bracelets and simpering voice cooing over how cute the 'cat' was; "Such a pretty kitty, I could just pick you up and snuggle you all day~" To earn that kind of purring, she must've been beautiful. Of course, this was just Lovino responding to attention. He'd been purring almost none-stop since they'd first been settled in these cages several hours ago. The small brunette couldn't blame him, either. Lovino had been recently returned from what he'd heard was an all-around pleasant short-term contract. He must've missed the sun.
Feliciano would've been happier if the sun was actually warming him up instead of just blinding him. Can't have everything, though; he'd already gone over that. It wasn't too much to ask for someone to talk to though, was it? If not a familiar face, then maybe a kind-hearted stranger, like the one fawning over his brother. A quiet little sigh escaped the mutant, a soft sound rooted in neither contentment nor true discomfort. Simply a forced little exhale as he tried to keep himself focused. You were just listening to that lovely violinist, Feliciano, he reminded himself, tucking the soft fabric of his blanket more firmly over his shoulders. And you didn't need to see or talk to anyone to enjoy yourself then, did you? No. So no need to fuss over being by yourself.
But he didn't want to be by himself right now. Not because he was scared or lonely, either. As nice (and nice is a word that doesn't do this glimpse of freedom any justice) as it was to temporarily escape the deep dark of the Underground, Feliciano was bored.
Bored enough to risk a true and proper headache by opening his eyes and watching the large crowds swarm past in a rush, trying to catch someone's eyes, spy something unusual; anything that could attract his attention.
There was s much color in the crowds around him; light glittering off buttons and jewelry and glitter and glasses and pale skin, orange and yellow and purple and green coats, hats, scarves, dresses, pants--everywhere he could think to look, there was color; even black stood out, stark and rich darkness compared to the soupy murkiness his aching eyes were used to. It was all just so vibrant and alive--
Actually, no, that flash of black and orange was alive. Feliciano blinked, before glancing around again, confused. That streak of black and orange darted across his vision a second time and he couldn't help but track it; a strange bird the mutant hadn't seen before, fluttering down to perch on a slim teenager's shoulder. A slim teenager with a basket of flowers on one arm and a pretty purple flower tucked in pale strands of hair behind one ear, highlighting the color of his eyes and standing out well against the chocolate colored dress. There were too many scents for him to catch the soft aroma of the flowers, but he didn't feel the need to concentrate hard enough to smell them anyway. Feliciano was more interested in the person holding the flowers. From what amber eyes could see, despite the little curve of lingering baby fat still present, there was a masculine edge to the curve of his jaw--not entirely noticeable, but if the mutant would hazard a guess, that was a boy handing out flowers to interested strangers, not a girl like the dress projects. Still, though, the dress looked good on him, the Italian thought with a quiet hum, finally settling back against the bars of his cage. Complimentary to the pale shade of his skin and hair; the rich brown a good choice rather than something too starkly dark or bright. Both those would've washed the other out too much. Even from this distance, it was easy to see the rosy color of his cheeks from the chilly air, vibrant and warm rather than ruddy and almost sickly like the harsh wind-blown red coloring many other peoples' ears and noses.
The young man was fairly small compared to many of the other men in the crowds around him, something Feliciano could sympathize with. He really wasn't so short that it was noticeably distinctive, though; he had a few years left to grow, if his body wanted to. It's hard to judge ages from simple appearances, but from the height and general body shape, the other was probably his age, at the oldest. Feliciano wondered what convinced the other that he wanted to wear a dress in a place like this; Russia wasn't terribly fond of people going outside of the acceptable norms like that. He didn't seem to be getting any trouble from the crowds interacting with him, though, so maybe they didn't care so much about cute kids in dresses like they did people with powers beyond their understanding. The strange bird may have initially caught the mutant's attention, but now he was more curious about the other boy, now.
The distance was too great to call out to the pale blonde, but that wasn't enough to keep Feliciano from peering at the other, sitting up straighter but still leaning most of his weight back against the steel support of his cage. It was really too bad he was all the way over there; he would've liked to talk to the boy a bit. A stranger with a strange bird and unconventional clothing--Feliciano would've liked to hear some of the stories behind them both.
Feliciano swore he was having flashbacks of his first days in the Academy--memories that were best left forgotten, he thinks. The same pain pulsed in his eyes; no, no, he was sure they hurt worse, after two years of perpetual gloom. Even with better control over his senses, the mutant's sensitivity only grew more pronounced with age. He didn't really like that part, not at all--you'd think they'd dull, but no, the cold only affects him worse than it had as a child. Evil snow littered the area; even if the square had been freshly shoveled in response to the ongoing festival, a light dusting coated the ground as it fell like powdered sugar from the sky. Obviously its only intent was to freeze his poor fingers and toes, and to reflect the weak sunlight in his face even when he tried to look away. If only the guards had been kind enough to set him in the shade, or at least put Ludwig in one of the large cages next to him. Not that Ludwig's only use is shade, of course not--but the combination of friendly company and protection from the various devilish elements would've been greatly appreciated right about now. In fact, it would've made the entire day perfect.
Despite the cold and dull aches the Italian had to suffer through, today was easily one of the best days of his life. Post-induction to the Underground, of course. The Academy might have some very bad memories Feliciano would prefer not to think about, but it was also the source of many happy and great days he'd cherish forever. Today was something to be treasured as well--he knew that the humans celebrated this festival every year, but this was the first time he had ever gotten to experience it firsthand. The young man hunkered further beneath his blanket with his eyes closed and a little smile on his face, simply relaxing against the hard bars of his latest prison. He didn't even need to see the vibrant sights of the festival to enjoy it; he could simply listen to it all instead, and probably find more things to enjoy than most of the other mutants--not that he didn't want them to enjoy themselves, but most were happy to simply sit and entertain the humans who wandered by in hopes of being purchased later on. Feliciano, however, wanted to enjoy everything the humans could.
There was music playing from the far side of the square--a solo violinist, probably trying to earn some extra cash from the large crowds flocking from stall to stall. The music was warm and lively, fitting in perfectly with the joviality of the celebration, and Feliciano knew he wasn't the only one appreciating the sounds. Every once in a while, the soft jangle of coins falling in what sounded like a box of some sort--maybe the violin case, if the cushioning was worn almost completely away. People were more generous in crowds, at least when it came to other humans. They didn't want to be viewed badly by their peers, let alone strangers. He could understand the reasoning behind that, since Feliciano himself didn't like the idea of people thinking poorly of him. (Some people, he couldn't be bothered to care about, but there's always that little self-conscious niggling at the back of one's mind hoping to make the best impression, befriend everyone you come across. He couldn't help that) If he could, the Italian would offer up some sort of offering of his own for the musician; to play that well from memory was never something Feliciano had been good at. He also hadn't picked up anything remotely similar to an instrument in years, so what little skills he had must've been gone by now. Unfortunately, the mutants were out here more as curiosity pieces for the humans than their own amusement, so he could only sit here and listen in from a distance. Hopefully the man would make enough money for whatever he needed it for.
As much as he enjoyed the violin solo, however, it was almost impossible to ignore the sound of Lovino purring like an engine further down the row of cages. It was distracting, just how loud his brother was. Feliciano didn't even try to smother the amused grin tugging up the corners of his lips; it was all too easy to imagine just how pretty the young woman was, the one with the jangling bracelets and simpering voice cooing over how cute the 'cat' was; "Such a pretty kitty, I could just pick you up and snuggle you all day~" To earn that kind of purring, she must've been beautiful. Of course, this was just Lovino responding to attention. He'd been purring almost none-stop since they'd first been settled in these cages several hours ago. The small brunette couldn't blame him, either. Lovino had been recently returned from what he'd heard was an all-around pleasant short-term contract. He must've missed the sun.
Feliciano would've been happier if the sun was actually warming him up instead of just blinding him. Can't have everything, though; he'd already gone over that. It wasn't too much to ask for someone to talk to though, was it? If not a familiar face, then maybe a kind-hearted stranger, like the one fawning over his brother. A quiet little sigh escaped the mutant, a soft sound rooted in neither contentment nor true discomfort. Simply a forced little exhale as he tried to keep himself focused. You were just listening to that lovely violinist, Feliciano, he reminded himself, tucking the soft fabric of his blanket more firmly over his shoulders. And you didn't need to see or talk to anyone to enjoy yourself then, did you? No. So no need to fuss over being by yourself.
But he didn't want to be by himself right now. Not because he was scared or lonely, either. As nice (and nice is a word that doesn't do this glimpse of freedom any justice) as it was to temporarily escape the deep dark of the Underground, Feliciano was bored.
Bored enough to risk a true and proper headache by opening his eyes and watching the large crowds swarm past in a rush, trying to catch someone's eyes, spy something unusual; anything that could attract his attention.
There was s much color in the crowds around him; light glittering off buttons and jewelry and glitter and glasses and pale skin, orange and yellow and purple and green coats, hats, scarves, dresses, pants--everywhere he could think to look, there was color; even black stood out, stark and rich darkness compared to the soupy murkiness his aching eyes were used to. It was all just so vibrant and alive--
Actually, no, that flash of black and orange was alive. Feliciano blinked, before glancing around again, confused. That streak of black and orange darted across his vision a second time and he couldn't help but track it; a strange bird the mutant hadn't seen before, fluttering down to perch on a slim teenager's shoulder. A slim teenager with a basket of flowers on one arm and a pretty purple flower tucked in pale strands of hair behind one ear, highlighting the color of his eyes and standing out well against the chocolate colored dress. There were too many scents for him to catch the soft aroma of the flowers, but he didn't feel the need to concentrate hard enough to smell them anyway. Feliciano was more interested in the person holding the flowers. From what amber eyes could see, despite the little curve of lingering baby fat still present, there was a masculine edge to the curve of his jaw--not entirely noticeable, but if the mutant would hazard a guess, that was a boy handing out flowers to interested strangers, not a girl like the dress projects. Still, though, the dress looked good on him, the Italian thought with a quiet hum, finally settling back against the bars of his cage. Complimentary to the pale shade of his skin and hair; the rich brown a good choice rather than something too starkly dark or bright. Both those would've washed the other out too much. Even from this distance, it was easy to see the rosy color of his cheeks from the chilly air, vibrant and warm rather than ruddy and almost sickly like the harsh wind-blown red coloring many other peoples' ears and noses.
The young man was fairly small compared to many of the other men in the crowds around him, something Feliciano could sympathize with. He really wasn't so short that it was noticeably distinctive, though; he had a few years left to grow, if his body wanted to. It's hard to judge ages from simple appearances, but from the height and general body shape, the other was probably his age, at the oldest. Feliciano wondered what convinced the other that he wanted to wear a dress in a place like this; Russia wasn't terribly fond of people going outside of the acceptable norms like that. He didn't seem to be getting any trouble from the crowds interacting with him, though, so maybe they didn't care so much about cute kids in dresses like they did people with powers beyond their understanding. The strange bird may have initially caught the mutant's attention, but now he was more curious about the other boy, now.
The distance was too great to call out to the pale blonde, but that wasn't enough to keep Feliciano from peering at the other, sitting up straighter but still leaning most of his weight back against the steel support of his cage. It was really too bad he was all the way over there; he would've liked to talk to the boy a bit. A stranger with a strange bird and unconventional clothing--Feliciano would've liked to hear some of the stories behind them both.
