Post by CAIUS VOLTURI on Apr 26, 2019 19:13:13 GMT
It had been three years since Caius had left Volterra – two years and forty eight weeks longer than he said he would be gone.
Greece he said, for revenge against the bloodline involved in his birth mother's eventual hostage that led to her death. He, however, didn't plan on going back to his homeland. The exact opposite almost, to a small town from the past. Aro had everything lined up to acquire a large lot of land conveniently next to a town that was home to a battle in which they retreated from some couple decades before, trading a large sum of money to a greedy chief of the La Push reservation in return for the deed. Caius had called the amount their 'pocket change' to further demean the man, but also promising an amount of time for him to find a new home for his people. But Caius had prematurely decided that someone needed a home more than they did.
He expected questioning for the dodging of trackers, and he wasn't a very good liar. Caius successfully evaded his brothers for a little over twenty-four hours now after stepping foot back in Italy, although it seemed like forever. The golden crowned vampire was exhausted from his travels but he was not one to run away from anything. His usually all-black attire was disrupted with an apple red cloak – back in Washington she said it stuck out against the snow that was falling when he left. Although he came back in winter, there was no snow where they resided in Italy.
Caius walked slowly through the castlehardly looking for someone he actually cared to see again. He bit his tongue as he walked, staring without a flicker of emotion ahead of him as he came to the floor of great rooms in the castle. His gaze strayed to quickly peer into each room before halting in front of closed doors, picking up the faintest of vibrations coming from within. Opening them without warning he took in a deep breath. Assuming that the rest of the Volturi had caught wind of his Quileute slaughter and even in his position, he would have to answer for his actions. He would do the confronting before he would be tracked down like prey.
'Don’t make a scene' Aro had cooed to him in his early fighting days, but despite over a thousand years of practice he still wasn’t exactly always good at that. A smirk crept to his lips when he stumbled across someone in the room. Even from just the back of the head he could recognize his more, one could say compassionate, brother. His lucky day.
”Brother” Caius broke the silence, a tang of relief and gratitude to be back carried in his greeting. He swept his hands up to fold back his hood revealing greasy loose strands of permanently sun-bleached golden locks, a stark contrast to both of his brothers in arm.
Greece he said, for revenge against the bloodline involved in his birth mother's eventual hostage that led to her death. He, however, didn't plan on going back to his homeland. The exact opposite almost, to a small town from the past. Aro had everything lined up to acquire a large lot of land conveniently next to a town that was home to a battle in which they retreated from some couple decades before, trading a large sum of money to a greedy chief of the La Push reservation in return for the deed. Caius had called the amount their 'pocket change' to further demean the man, but also promising an amount of time for him to find a new home for his people. But Caius had prematurely decided that someone needed a home more than they did.
He expected questioning for the dodging of trackers, and he wasn't a very good liar. Caius successfully evaded his brothers for a little over twenty-four hours now after stepping foot back in Italy, although it seemed like forever. The golden crowned vampire was exhausted from his travels but he was not one to run away from anything. His usually all-black attire was disrupted with an apple red cloak – back in Washington she said it stuck out against the snow that was falling when he left. Although he came back in winter, there was no snow where they resided in Italy.
Caius walked slowly through the castle
'Don’t make a scene' Aro had cooed to him in his early fighting days, but despite over a thousand years of practice he still wasn’t exactly always good at that. A smirk crept to his lips when he stumbled across someone in the room. Even from just the back of the head he could recognize his more, one could say compassionate, brother. His lucky day.
”Brother” Caius broke the silence, a tang of relief and gratitude to be back carried in his greeting. He swept his hands up to fold back his hood revealing greasy loose strands of permanently sun-bleached golden locks, a stark contrast to both of his brothers in arm.
TAG: MARCUS VOLTURI
