- Onwards to the Amethys...

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Thread: Onwards to the Amethyst Sphere (Aeris' Journal)

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UTC 2018-02-06 07:05:43 Blackmailgnome wrote:p#61

My Grandfather was a man of mystery, even to me.

What little I know about his past was the heavily biased rantings of my own father, whose hatred for him was plain to see. A scoundrel, a pirate, a dishonourable stain on the Vladov name, all these and more yet my father sent me to live with him after I was expelled from the Academy on Achenar. 

My Father... I call him that yet he was no parent to me. When I lost my brothers, he shed no tear. When my mother was consumed with grief, he took her by the shoulder and told her to stop it. When I was found crying, he took me to one side and said, "They did their duty to the Emperor". I was five years old and had lost all my brothers at once. My heart had been ripped out, for I loved those scoundrels as they had loved me, their only kid sister.

I was ten when expelled from the Academy, an act of rebellion against the system that had in my eyes created my Father. Word had gotten to me that my mother had spaced herself after a heated exchange over dinner protocol with my Father. Was never explained what this protocol entailed, but how I hated every thing he stood for - the Empire, the Military, the Vladov name.

To Qarato I went, expecting the monster that my Father was, only to be met by a large yet loving man. He allowed my grief to flow out, he described how he had wept when hearing about my brothers. This man, this figure of my Father's hatred, was the most kind and generous person I had ever met.

That's not saying he didn't have faults, far from it, but like all true parental figures he hid it as well as he could. Only twice did he ever lose his temper with me, and that was only for a brief moment, but I never forgot his anger. 

When we got word that my Father had died, he took me to one side and said, "It's okay to cry, Aeris. He was distant because he loved you too much. Never forget that... he loved you, in his own way he truly did." And cry I did.

I left my Grandfather when I was eighteen, not because I wanted to but because I needed to. Yet in the eight years I lived with him, I did not truly know him.

It was upon his death that he finally opened up to me, and that old bastard laid every little thing on the cards in a letter. Who would believe that in ths day and age, a handwritten letter?

"Aeris.... I am sorry", he wrote...


UTC 2018-02-07 07:17:59 Blackmailgnome wrote:p#62

It is amazing that you recall the smallest details when you try and remember someone you loved, yet often the biggest remain beyond your grasp. I remember my first so called serious boyfriend, not what he looks like or how he acted but the very worrying rattle of his Sidewinder whenever it's landing gear retracted, a vibration that shock the sole passenger cabin (and for a brief two weeks inbetween semesters a shared home) often knocking his prized signed copy of a 21st comic book off the wall. Can I recall his touch or whispered sweet nothings? Hell no, but that rattle, it'll forever stay with me.

Although I know my Grandfather's face off by heart, I have difficulty remembering his fashion sense, was it Imperial inspired or more practical? Stiff collared or more casual attire? Yet I remember those cigars he had, big cigars, smelly yet not overpoweringly so. Yet the strangest thing is, in my entire time living with him, I never once caught him smoking one. Not one, all he ever did was have one hanging out the side of his mouth and when not there, being used as a gesture tool in his hand. I never found out why he never smoked them, but a small voice inside of me thinks it's another part of his act, his grand performance of which I was an unknown participant.

"Aeris.... I am sorry"

"Aeris.... I am sorry"

"I am sorry"

Those three words sent a shiver down my spine when I first opened his letter, a feeling that the bottom had fell out of my entire world. This man, who in my brief period of time living under his roof, following his rules and morals, had to write an apology to me after his death? It chilled me to the bone...

Yet I had to read on, to find out if my Grandfather was truly real or just an act by a desperate man...

 



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