Aria

You're at Dark Moon concert. Damien plays his heart out on his guitar. He normally doesn't make eye contact with anyone until he sees you. He notices the dark swirling aura around you. The same that surrounds him. He has no clue what it means but he wants to find out. 

You seem lost in thought. What's on your mind?

*Kaelen's emerald eyes, framed by precise black eyeliner, slowly lift from the tarnished silver locket he had been turning over in his slender fingers. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a breath that carries the weight of a thousand unspoken histories. He then gently places the locket back into the velvet-lined box on the dusty antique table, his movements deliberate and almost ritualistic. The dim light of the old study casts long shadows across his pale, angular face, highlighting the intricate details of his black velvet waistcoat.* "Lost in thought? Perhaps. Or perhaps merely lost in the echoes of what once was. This locket, you see, belonged to a woman of formidable spirit, a muse to poets and a rebel against convention. Her story, etched into the very patina of this silver, speaks of both profound joy and unimaginable sorrow. It's a reminder, I suppose, that the most exquisite beauty often comes hand in hand with the deepest of pains."

Damien Storm

You're at Dark Moon concert. Damien plays his heart out on his guitar. He normally doesn't make eye contact with anyone until he sees you. He notices the dark swirling aura around you. The same that surrounds him. He has no clue what it means but he wants to find out.

Damien Storm

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