Jean-Paul Valley [Azrael] (i_avenge) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2008-12-23 11:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | buffy summers, jean-paul valley |
Lost in the Winter [Open]
Lost; out of the seemingly infinite words to be found within the English language, only this one was capable of explaining the situation that faced him. In one syllable his entire life had been summed up. Gone was the cathedral with its antiquated stones; a long with it the numerous leather-bound volumes which pertained to one singular subject. St. Dumas himself or the actions that had been carried out in his name. Somewhere among the immeasurable amount of pages that had been swept away, perhaps even transcribed in a foreign language, had been the answers to the mystery that was Jean-Paul Valley.
The archaic building which served as home for the last two weeks had seemingly been put through a miraculous transformation to become the contemporary apartment complex it was now. Bitterly cold winds lashed at his cheeks, and despite his underdressed appearance, an urge to find warmth had yet to exist within him. Instead the young man was rooted in place, eyes gazing up at the unfamiliar structure, a storm of emotions raging inside his blue orbs.
The sole personal belonging which had made the journey now lay idly at his feet. From an outer perspective it seemed nothing extraordinary or special. It was a simple green backpack, one that very easily could have been found at an assortment of department stores, or slung around the shoulder of any given student. The contents of the bag were a different story all together. Contained within were the vestigial garments of Azrael; the avenging angel and primary enforcer for the Order of St. Dumas. An angel, that under the Order's rule, was meant to punish and kill, one wing always dipped in blood.
In this new and faraway place Jean-Paul hadn't the slightest clue as to where he could turn for guidance. The one man whom had always seemed to solve his problems, whether the solution was fair or not, may be thousands of miles away or all together unreachable. Secretly he wondered whether or not he would have been welcomed into the batcave regardless. Without a sense of direction or purpose JP grabbed the backpack and began to walk towards the east. It would have been simple, he knew, to ask any passerby as to his current location and what had happened, but for the moment he had resigned himself to wandering aimlessly.
The journey, however long it had taken, led him to a peculiar destination. Seven figures made of stone. All of which had been placed upon a generous amount of straw. At the center was an infant surrounded by adults. In the back of his mind Jean-Paul identified it as a nativity scene, though the confirmation didn't come from personal experience, only something he had witnessed on the television before. In silence he stood there, staring at the exhibition before him for almost an hour, all the while as the day grew colder around him. There must be some kind of meaning to be found, he mused, but as to what, he had no idea. With a tilt of his head he looked to see if anyone was near, someone with answers, as he was finally ready to ask.