Author Topic: The Life of a Bastard - Assorted RPs of Hrafn Skovgaard  (Read 2667 times)

Eduardo Almighty

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Crow Bard

Captain Rita was waiting for him when the jailer set him free. She was expecting a deplorable image, but Hrafn was fine and smiling. He looked inebriated, drunk with happiness. She forced a discreet smile and raised her hands; in one the sword, in another the lute. The young raven flew gently to caress the sword, but determined on the instrument that made him happier. His fingers sang along the strings and the sound filled his soul. The Alfather was perfect in his completeness, but his children were small portions of him, small details magnified to perfection. Hrafn was his voice. Hrafn was his music. Hrafn was his perfect world: when everything is broken up and dances. He sat right there on the spot and waved Rita do the same. He had spent a good time in the cell talking to a Quaestor who remembered his father. He was thinking about her redhead all the time. But he also thought about Sirion, miserable new old world. Erik was also there struggling against imaginary chains, wanting to escape. So, they sang.

I do not want to tell you
My great love
Of the things I learned
In the books
I want to tell you how I lived
And everything that happened to me

Living is better than dreaming
I know that love
is a good thing.
But I also know
That any song
is smaller than life
Of anyone

So take care, my love.
There's danger in the corner
They won and the road
Is closed for us
'cause we are young

To hug your brother
And kiss your girl on the street
That's what made your arm
Your lip and your voice

You ask me
For my passion
I say I'm delighted
As a new invention
I see it coming in the wind
Smell of new season
I feel everything in the living wound
Of my heart

It's been a while
I saw you on the street.
Hair in the wind
Young people gathered
On the memory wall
This memory
It's the picture that hurts the most

My pain is perceiving
Although we have
Done everything we've done
We are still the same
And we live
We are still the same
And we live
Like our parents

Our idols
Still the same
And the appearances
Do not fool
You say that after them
No one else showed up

You can even say
That I'm out
Or else
That I'm inventing

But it's you
Who loves the past
And you do not see
That's you
Who loves the past
And you do not see
That the new always comes

Today I know
Who gave me the idea?
From a new consciousness
Are you at home
Guarded by the gods
Counting the vile metal

My pain is perceiving
Although we have
Done everything, everything
Everything we did
We are still
The same and we live
We are still
The same and we live
Like our parents...
Now with the Skovgaard Family... and it's gone.
Serpentis again!