vivaldi, adrian [glaceon]
Nov 23, 2013 23:53:36 GMT
Post by Adrian Vivaldi on Nov 23, 2013 23:53:36 GMT
ADRIAN VIVALDI
BASIC INFO & PERSONALITY
 ADRI, ADDY BISEXUAL TWENTY-ONE STATE ONE FENNEKIN FIRE EMBLEM, CHROM | POSITIVE
NEGATIVE
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HISTORY & POKEMORPH
His parents never cared to pay much attention to him. They were not harsh or cruel, nor did they blatantly ignore him, but they were always very busy, and he would be left to his own devices. He was lonely since the day he was old enough to sleep through the night and rely on a nanny, who seemed more interested in her phone than the child she watched. Adrian played by himself most of the time, and while he did make friends at daycare, that all went away when they moved. He wasn't happy, at first, but they moved into a neighborhood, instead of the big city with many neighbors and no friends. He met a boy and a girl that lived beside him, Marion and James, and he adored them from the beginning. They played together, all three of them, and he loved them like family. He paid a bit more attention to the girl his age--not because of any preference, but the child was louder, and gained the attention easier. He didn't mean to leave James out of it; he encouraged him to join multiple times, and after a while, he just didn't join in anymore. It seemed he cared more for his new pokemon, than he did for Adrian, always allowing him to get tugged away by his sister, allowing them to play alone together. He was ignoring him, it seemed. He'd found something better and replaced him, like his parents did with work. They still spoke to him, smiled so sweetly, but he only saw them in the mornings before work, and only sometimes at night when at least one of them would get home, or none of them, and he'd crawl into bed and hope to hear the door close, that they were okay. Marion was a distraction from his home. He spent so much time at her's that he could ignore the emptiness of his own, but his other companion turned absent as well. It took a few years to understand that loneliness in her company. He wanted James, far more than he'd admit. Though he saw his father rarely, he knew his views, and he knew what little interaction they had would turn cruel, and the thought frightened him. So he allowed himself to be pulled away by the girl. Maybe he'd feel for her instead of her brother. He stopped minding his absence so much. She was like a sister, even as he held her hand and kissed her cheek, smiled at her, because this was what his father would want, not the thoughts running through his head, not the lingering eyes on her brother. This.. This was right. If he fucked this up, his father would never talk to him again, and he still clung to the thought that one day, one day, he would come home at a decent hour, and tuck him into bed, kiss his forehead and smile at him. But he was older now.. and boys didn't need to get tucked in, or kissed, or smiled upon. He was old enough to understand his father and mother had to work, and not seeing them for days was completely understandable. He was old enough to comprehend that, so why did it hurt? That incident with the Cyndaquil hurt much more.. All he'd wanted to do was invite James to come along with them. For once, like they'd used to, be around together, all three of them, so Marion wouldn't be upset, and he could still be around the brother. The damn thing bit him, flared up, like he was defending the boy, but why? But that was the end of the relationship, practically. James didn't seem to want to look at him, speak to him, or even be around him. His heart broke, but it shattered when he found out he was gone. No note.. no play before, no hugs, and no words. He'd left, hadn't said a word to him, hadn't said goodbye. But what right did he have to cry for his absence, about being lonely, while his sister sobbed against his shoulder because she missed her brother? She cried so often those first few weeks, but she got letters. She got word that he was okay. She got to see his stupid written notes and loves and affection through words, and he was left with nothing but her. She looked like him. Sometimes, she even spoke like he did. Being with her didn't make it hurt any less, but he thought if he tried hard enough, she'd replace him in his thoughts, and he would feel less lonely, less aching. He did with her what he couldn't do with him, and she loved him, and he.. said he loved her, too. If he said it enough, maybe it'd be true. Maybe, it would hurt less. He moved with her, in a way. His mother and father moved their businesses and jobs away from the looming shadows at their doorstep, to find some safety in the Romantic Isles, while he just moved for her. If he didn't have her around, he'd be alone completely.. and soon enough, that's exactly what happened. He was with her when it happened.. She was trying so hard to save a Cyndaquil, likely because it reminded her of the brother that broke contact, the brother that disappeared.. He was trying to help, but he'd always been scared of heights, and she insisted she could do this on her own. She'd grown so much since they were younger. Stronger, prideful, open. She was warm and sweet to him, held his hand while she kissed him, and he thought, how lucky was he.. that someone stayed with him. His soul was just as broken as her body when she fell. He screamed, but nothing would piece her together and make her warm, and make her happy with him. Nothing would mimic the fury in her eye, the worry or the frenzy, every moment she read a paper, every moment she waited at the door. James came to the funeral. His parents were too busy to attend, but Adrian was there, watching her lowered to the ground, when his eyes flicked up and he caught that boy's.. And suddenly, he felt a spark of hope, that he'd stay. He wouldn't be lonely anymore, because he'd come back and he'd never leave him again, and he could tell him. He could tell him what he meant to him. He didn't care about lost affection; his father was never there anyway, but James. James was there, he was at her funeral, watching her buried, knowing he was sad, knowing he was broken, he had to stay. He had to stay.. but he didn't. He was gone. Just like that, he left him. He knew he was hurting, and he left. He felt empty. His parents left for a trip somewhere. They told him the location in the note on the fridge, as they always did, but he paid it no mind. He sat at his counter, as quiet as his home. No nanny to ignore him, no Marion to distract him, no James to .. to leave him. No one, nothing. He distracted himself, sometimes, in bars and clubs. He was a charming man, when he tried to be outgoing with them, and the experiences he got were.. memorable, at least, some more than others, and some hurt horribly, but at least someone was there, even if they wouldn't be in the morning. Eventually, the hurt faded away. He got news his parents were lost to shadow during their trip. They questioned why he hadn't reported them missing, but truth be told, he hadn't noticed. It wasn't like he ever saw them. They were figures to him, not memories. Sometimes, his mother would smile at him on her way out the door, and sometimes, his father would let him sip his coffee while he read the paper. He left soon. Didn't know why, or to where, but he had to leave. He couldn't stand seeing tombstones, he couldn't stand his drunken encounters. He couldn't stand himself, back then. Within the first few weeks, he found a little Fennekin on the side of the road. It looked abandoned, it looked frightened, and he could understand that. He needed the warmth, anyway. While he was normally cold, and he liked that, it was the dead of winter.. and if he ran too cold, his heart would freeze. It was dangerous. So he took the little thing and held it close to him, lit a fire when he could so it could warm up, too. It was shy, it was timid, and seemed to get embarrassed if he held it. .. Actually, it quite reminded him of James, and it was something, anything, to be with him, keep him company. It was beneficial to have, really. He started to act normally again, like himself again, and as long as he didn't think about James, as long as he didn't remember Marion or that empty house, he was fine, he was happy, he was good. | GLACEON ICE / ICE SNOW CLOAK CUPPY TWENTY-ONE |
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