guildless {} D-rank
Word Count: 1006 | 500/500 , 500/500, 6 Words Excess
Tagged: Solo
Muse: I wished to write an introduction...
Music: Bagatelle No.25 in A Minor, WoO 59 "Fur Elise"
Hnnngh...
There was something mildly unpleasant about the sensations that Icarus was experiencing right now. He felt somewhat stiff, his body fatigued and perhaps even a little nauseous. He was pressed against what he felt could only be some kind of hardwood, and the scents that filled his nostrils were quite unfamiliar. Slowly, he would bring his arms underneath himself, using the little strength he had in this weakened state to shakily push himself up from the ground. He would lift himself up into a kneeling position, blinking a few times, his expression one of weariness. As he proceeded to collect himself, he recalled what it was he'd been doing before he'd lost consciousness. His eyes would widen suddenly, and he would look down at his hands, his very much human hands.
It worked... by Lucifer it worked!
A sense of excitement filled him as this realisation dawned on him. Everything he had hoped for, worked towards. All the agonising rituals, all the pretending, the deceit he'd lain on those around him so that they wouldn't realise what he was up to. Could it really be that it had all come to fruition? And everything that he desired had happened just as he had hoped. He would rise to his feet, swaying unsteadily for a moment, he would look around the room. He was in what appeared to be a very large bedroom, with mahogany floors and a queen-sized four-poster bed. There were various eclectic elements to the layout of the room, but for the most part, it was extravagant and archaic in nature. He would drag his feet across the floor, moving over to a wardrobe that appeared to have a mirrored door. Stepping into the view of the mirror, he would reel at the sight of himself, gasping in horror. For he now appeared to bear the form of a rather wrinkled, old man. This body had to at least be in its sixties, and any remnants of its once attractive youth had long since withered from the cruel mistress that was time. He was currently sporting a silk white nightgown, long socks covering the majority of his calves.
"No, no, no," He muttered, shaking his head in a dissatisfied manner, "This will not do." He had been about to test to see how much of his power he'd retained when there was a knock on the door that distracted him. He glanced over before calling out, "Come in." The door would click and in would step a young butler, not much older than twenty-eight with mousey brown hair and blue eyes.
"My Lord! You are out of bed?!" He exclaimed in surprise, as though the act of merely standing by himself was unexpected of this person. "Are you sure you are well enough to be moving around?" It took a moment for Icarus to realize that the butler wasn't addressing himself, but the body in which he was currently inhabiting. He was so used to others referring to him a 'Lord' that it had momentarily cause him to forgot what he had done. He was no longer in the realm in which he ruled after all.
"I feel perfectly fine, although this seems to surprise you boy. Tell me, my memory seems quite hazy... have I not been well as of late?" He would ask, turning to face the butler completely, the man seemed somewhat taken aback, stumbling over his words as he offered a response. "Well...ummm, Yes, My Lord... you have been bedridden for quite some time, a sickness has plagued your body...we thought...we thought you were..."
"On deaths door?" Icarus would interject, noticing the young man's struggle to express himself. The boy would nod, confirming Icarus suspicions. That seemed about right, in order for him to have come to this plane, for the ritual to work, he would have to need a suitable vessel. One that would allow him to infiltrate it with little resistance, a dying man was was ideal for such a task. Icarus took a moment to explore the vessel, looking for any traces that the man was still alive, however, the body was empty. There was no longer a soul residing in here, which could only mean that he had passed just as Icarus had taken over the form. "Well, things are about to change, I can assure you. It'll be a long time before the likes of Lord..." Icarus stopped, feigning a moment of forgetfulness. So that the boy would feel the need to utter the name for him. As he spoke it, Icarus grinned, not a bad name, quite pretentious but powerful enough to be taken on by the likes of himself.
"Barnabus..." He repeated back, the name lifted off his tongue silky, almost like a whisper. He turned back towards the mirror, eying the old, decrepit form. "Well boy... you are about to see something quite astonishing, it seems the gods have decided to grant an extension to my time here..." His body would begin to glow all over, showing with a curious magical light. His wrinkles would tighten, his hair would grow longer, the signs of aging in his face would fade as the effects of time were reversed. The light would fade, and no standing in front of the mirror was a much younger man, in his mid-twenties, a pretty face and golden eyes. The body he now wore much more lean and muscular as he reversed time on the human vessel and brought it to a state in it's life where it was at it's physical peak.. This is much more like it... Icarus thought, eying his new form. The butler stared at him in shock, jaw wide open and eye bulging. Unable to believe what he was seeing. Icarus did a little twirl, taking a moment to appreciate this much more suitable body. Perfect... He thought before letting out a soft chuckle before glancing over at the butler.
"Now then. I think it's time for a little fun... don't you?"
