Post by Edward Samson on Aug 11, 2008 20:10:43 GMT -5
When: June 30th, Late night
Where: The Samson Mansion
Late at night he found himself in front of the fire place, stirring and poking the dying embers, the soft orange glow lighting part of the room as he held his glass, nursing the scotch. He lost himself in his thoughts. He'd sent Isla half away across the world to obtain Dr. Elms. He knew well enough Isla would be no match if Elms put up a fight. So he stood there, thinking, did he just use her? Did he really care enough to worry about her well being? He never loved a woman. Not truly. He once thought he did, when he was younger, flandering as he did. A Rich young bachlor chasing skirts with each chance he got. Then....then he came across a young girl...He thought it was love but he later realized he was foolish and stupid, His father sending her away. He'd always managed to keep tabs on her, only to find out later her had a daughter...Isla...His thoughts came back to her once more. He didn't care for his children, His biological daughter Tokyo...His step daughter Dae...He used them for their powers, like he has used so many. Isla...Again she crossed into his thoughts. He did worry about her safety. She was valuable, brilliant...But she feared him. Like so many others feared him. It wasn't love..it was understanding. They had need for each other. It was the closest thing the two would ever come close to calling "love."
Soon the glass was empty. He walked away from the fire place, letting the remaining flames die out, the room darkening slowly as he walked over to the bar, setting the glass down..His hands caressed the counter top, expensive italian marble. slowly his fingers matched the patterns, his skin forming into the same molecular structure as the marble its self..the change stop at his wrists. Slowly he raised his hands looking at them, flexing and turning, examining. He amazed himself to this day, this gift he was given, at times he looked like a living statue when he coated his entire body in whatever he touched..His thoughts flashed to a kiss, isla's lips against his metal ones..He caught himself, caught himself touch his own lips as he remembered her reaction, the look on her face. His heart, something that was cold, filled with nothing but his lust for power and yet he felt something deep for her. perhaps...perhaps it was love...No..he shook his head..It was not love. Love was for the foolish. What he felt was contempt...She was his. Coming to his call late at night, nights spent in his office. That wasn't love..That was lust. Pure lust.
Where: The Samson Mansion
Late at night he found himself in front of the fire place, stirring and poking the dying embers, the soft orange glow lighting part of the room as he held his glass, nursing the scotch. He lost himself in his thoughts. He'd sent Isla half away across the world to obtain Dr. Elms. He knew well enough Isla would be no match if Elms put up a fight. So he stood there, thinking, did he just use her? Did he really care enough to worry about her well being? He never loved a woman. Not truly. He once thought he did, when he was younger, flandering as he did. A Rich young bachlor chasing skirts with each chance he got. Then....then he came across a young girl...He thought it was love but he later realized he was foolish and stupid, His father sending her away. He'd always managed to keep tabs on her, only to find out later her had a daughter...Isla...His thoughts came back to her once more. He didn't care for his children, His biological daughter Tokyo...His step daughter Dae...He used them for their powers, like he has used so many. Isla...Again she crossed into his thoughts. He did worry about her safety. She was valuable, brilliant...But she feared him. Like so many others feared him. It wasn't love..it was understanding. They had need for each other. It was the closest thing the two would ever come close to calling "love."
Soon the glass was empty. He walked away from the fire place, letting the remaining flames die out, the room darkening slowly as he walked over to the bar, setting the glass down..His hands caressed the counter top, expensive italian marble. slowly his fingers matched the patterns, his skin forming into the same molecular structure as the marble its self..the change stop at his wrists. Slowly he raised his hands looking at them, flexing and turning, examining. He amazed himself to this day, this gift he was given, at times he looked like a living statue when he coated his entire body in whatever he touched..His thoughts flashed to a kiss, isla's lips against his metal ones..He caught himself, caught himself touch his own lips as he remembered her reaction, the look on her face. His heart, something that was cold, filled with nothing but his lust for power and yet he felt something deep for her. perhaps...perhaps it was love...No..he shook his head..It was not love. Love was for the foolish. What he felt was contempt...She was his. Coming to his call late at night, nights spent in his office. That wasn't love..That was lust. Pure lust.