Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2013 21:37:04 GMT -8
Apparently attempted suicide didn't go unnoticed within these walls. Funny thing death, you dance with it once and suddenly you're not afraid anymore, you feel unstoppable and you want to accomplish everything. Buttoning up his black shirt and rolling the sleeves to the middle of his forearm, Rabastan looked at himself in the mirror. Once, Twice, Again. Habits sucked, organization sucked, but he had learned how to deal with it so it didn't effect his daily life. There was one thing that did bother him about mental illness, and that was how it would affect the future generations he moved on to create, how would it manipulate his sons or daughters. Perhaps it was a lot to think about for a seventeen year old, but Rabastan was wise beyond his years. Suddenly thoughts of Integra flooded his mind, marriage, children and family. Something neither of them had any experience with on a normal scale. Phraxos was by no means a father and Rabastan would do everything in his power to not become what he hated.
Adjusting the silver clasp for his belt, Rabastan was now pleased with his appearance enough so to leave his dorm. Patting his pockets making certain everything was where it needed to be before exiting the common room. Realization was a powerful tool. Realizing the fine line between right and wrong was valuable and toying with that tiny thread was so easy, twisting minds was even more interesting, but that lead back to the fine line. What color was the line to begin with? Rabastan had always perceived the line to be white, it's where ideas come together and filter to either the darkness or the light. As for the colors of good and evil, there weren't any. Black was used to repel or even banish evil entities, used mostly for protection, even though it is often viewed as a negative color it's rather positive. According to some of his research, burning a black candle while mixing a potion could add certain properties to the finished product and make it all the much more powerful.
Shrugging his shoulders at the thought as he wandered to the next levels of the school, passing the Great Hall and climbing the main staircase to yet another floor. Passing classroom after classroom only to come to the door he was agonizing over. Who ever thought he needed mental help and analysis was sorely mistaken, but he would indulge them as much as he possibly could. The young man lifted his hand to the door letting his knuckles rattle the wooden plank in it's frame.
