#adelram

Alynn in Season 1

Adelram; a man of tall stature, thin and lanky with skin too light for the desert in which he lived. Eyes that seemed to register little yet understand all- This was the man who ran the cafe.

The cups that he handed out, paper cups with plastic tops that didn’t quite fit right, were full of liquids. The liquids were not clearly defined by the runes scrawled on their cups nor by the customer’s request. It seemed like every being who entered the cafe, be it by glowing portal or the trap door in the stock room, would convulse as they spoke in an ancient, dead language to order their drinks and somehow Adelram would know just what to get for them.

He hardly spoke, conversing in nods and grunts and gestures and telepathic messages consisting only of static and sobbing.

He was never seen anywhere but behind the counter of the little establishment with it’s walls lined with black and white photographs and artifacts from an era long gone. 

One could not picture him outside of his apron covered with dark brownish red stains doing whatever it was that normal people do. One could not picture him without bags under his eyes, darkening as the days went on, nor without the look of a man who had had his soul trampled and burned.

He was happy here, he told himself. He always was happy here, he reminded himself. He would love to be here forever, he assured himself.

He would…never leave? He asked himself.

Speedpaint:

youtu.be/pSQUL7NU1Js

I feel tears run down my face…

…why…?

It’s a boy…

I can’t keep him…

That’s how it is…

If it’s a girl, she stays with her mother, if it’s a boy, he goes with his father…

But… I want to keep him…

He’s crying now… I want to be there to cease all of his tears…

I’m crying too, do I really need to give him up…?

I love him. He’s my son… just as much as he is his father’s… he has my eyes! He has the same black goop growing on his skin, he has inherited my abilities.

He’s stopped crying, grasping my finger that had been tickling his chin, his skin matching the tone of his father’s, his hair however, is much darker. Ebony curls resting on his head.

I still can’t get over his big eyes, they’re staring up at me, almost as if they can see my pain.

He will be my death; I will die to keep him with me.

My dear Adelram.

Mommy will always love you.