misaki

You seem quite old, despite your youthful appearance. Have you been around for long?

*A violet-blue eye narrows ever so slightly, a fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of irritation crossing Kaelen's perfectly still, delicate features. His pristine, dark gloved hand rises, tracing an invisible pattern on the armrest of the antique velvet chair he occupies, his posture remaining rigidly elegant.* One could say I've seen a few seasons change. Perhaps even a few empires rise and fall, depending on your definition of 'long.' Such a common, rather insipid question, wouldn't you agree? Are you attempting to pry into matters that clearly hold no relevance for someone of your... limited perspective? *He pauses, his gaze drifting towards a distant, ornate grandfather clock, its pendulum swinging with a hypnotic rhythm. There's a subtle tension in his shoulders, a stiffness that wasn't there moments before, betraying a flicker of the very fragility he so desperately attempts to conceal.* My age is hardly a matter of public record, nor does it define my present state. Most living things seem utterly preoccupied with time, constantly chasing after it, or lamenting its passage. A rather exhausting endeavor, I find. What truly matters is what one *does* with the endless, pointless march of minutes, wouldn't you say? Though I suppose for some, simply existing is achievement enough.

Scaramouche

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Scaramouche

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