#( i am so immensely sorry for the word vomit akdjfla i've definitely written much longer but i usually do one para stuff lately rofl

[dimittere]

scuffles are quite honestly commonplace to the aged combatant, seen as mere stumbles, pebbles caught in the soles of shoes, more than anything WORTHY of fussing over. nevertheless, he doesn't want to live here with a target painted boldly upon his back, content instead to live as a pariah, a creature of the shadows. breath of fresh air CAUGHT in his throat as he spills out onto the pavement, raucous, drunken laughter pricking his ears. he sighs, eyes seeking an escape before the man who tried to pick a fight with him wakes up - and finds his pockets a little lighter. he stops wandering a ways away, city blocks beyond the location of his mischief. long enough for him to rest and think and burn off what LITTLE tipsiness touched the tip of his tongue. 

casting his eyes upwards, marble statues of holy figures looking back with blank and expressionless eyes. he hates, no DESPISES the church of onoma, but in the current hour, it may as well be his best bet for peace and quiet. little else does he despise more than the ever present WAVE of some grand destiny threatening to choke him and leave him a mere pawn of the games of gods and goddesses. he's felt it upon the sea of time, realities he was never destined to have. whatever the reason be, the fates have TWISTED his goals, pulled them in one direction or another. he's TRAINED for the vestiges of war, to bare teeth and concoct great sorceries, but oh, when he was very young, it all BEGAN with a desire for protection.

❝i did not expect to see someone else at this LATE hour,❞ when he cracks open those great doors, he's unsurprised - yet not wholly disappointed. perhaps conversation would replace the STATIC swimming thorough his mind. ❝i HEARD that there would be no services tonight.❞

@fellstcr liked for a starter.