[CLOSED] Edmund Prym - Ravenheart

[bebibebi]

▬ •• Edmund Prym •• ▬

Edmund woke up to the smell of sweat and the heat that came from skin-on-skin. There were around three girls lying around his bed; each one of them drained of their own blood and energy. And yet, the girls had nothing but smiles on their unconcious faces and tear-streaks below their eyes.

Edmund's cold eyes swept the room that became his refuge during cold nights and warm mornings, as he took in the different sensations of his environment. When he was satisfied and sure that he was indeed awake, He rose from the bed and pushed aside the unconcious bodies that were spread-eagled around him, without a second thought about their own comfort. He was done with them, and they were no longer useful to him. They were now nothing but trash.

And what else to do with trash, but throw them away?

He walked over to the little bar he had in his room, and poured himself a shot of his strongest vodka. He drank it down in one gulp, not bothering to lick any salt, or "chase it" as humans would put it. The alcohol had little effect on him, and only left him slightly awake after his little adventure with his many toys. He threw the shot glass at the far wall, smiling as he heard a satisfying crash as the fragile glass made contact with the cold stone wall. This was a common thing for him, because there was nothing mrore satisfying than breaking what is given for free, and throwing an innocent sot glass to an unwary wall.

His smile soon faded away as there was nothing else to entertain him, and no other shot glasses to waste. He put on his velvet robe and sat on a nearby armchair as he drank more vodka straight from the bottle to occupy his time. With each gulp he would breathe deeply, trying to imagine what it would be like to have heat rise up his cheeks...his cold cheeks who could not remember the feeling of blood flowing in it; only knowing the feeling of blood splashing on it when he ate.

The vodka was beginning to bore him, and so he threw the bottle at the door as he heard it opening. The left-over contents of the vodka bottle had splashed on the person who was about to enter, and even if it was a normal response to get angry, he kept quiet as he always did. The servant entered the room and bowed to the grinning vampire, "Sir, it is time for breakfast." Edmund observed the measly servant closely. His pitch black orbs scanning the man who had been serving his family for decades. People like the servant fascinated him to no end! The loyal, obedient, and hard-working type of people were such a wonder to the bored and wasteful Edmund. He couldn't imagine how horrible it was to be not him--- which made him all the more happier to be above everyone else.

Edmund scoffed, "breakfast? What took you so long, Hubbard? Can't you see, I've already eaten?" He sweeped his hand across the room as if brandishing his sweat-and-alcohol-smelling, woman-and-glass shard-filled room. He grinned at the little servant as he stood up from his armchair in an elegant manner, "Tell me Hubbard, isn't this food enough?" Hubbard, the servant, kept his ground and followed his orders, "No sir. Your father had told me to let you eat normal food at all meals. Now please sir, breakfast." Edmund drew his head back, making a cold and dark laugh escape from his pale lips. "You are very amusing Hubbard! I'll be down in a second then."

He sat down at the breakfast table and stared at his food. Even if he detested the boring and tasteless food, he still tried to eat it for his father. Though the reason why his father fancied normal food was beyond him--- nothing could ever beat the taste of blood.

 

[bebibebi]

•• Edmund Prym ••

"Morning Edmund"

There was always a certain routine in Edmund's life that he found, and still finds very boring and tiring. First, he would drink, and would try to get drunk after a good night's "feeding". Then, someone will call him to breakfast: be it Hubbard, his father, and on rare occasion, Steven. When Edmund is done playing with whoever was sent to call him (with the exception of his father, of course.) he will come down to the dining room where he is to sit at his favorite seat by the window. And lastly, he'd have to wait for his father and Carmilla to come down as well.

Uggh, Carmilla.

"Carmilla" he greeted gingerly as the name coated and dripping with utter disgust escaped his lips. Edmund hated his sister-- not in a normal, shallow way, but with a passion. She was the only one who could piss Edmund off just by breathing in the same room as he was. Being already the ultimate object of zealous hate, the way she was talking right now didn't do wonders to his mood.

Edmund rolled his eyes, "Oh Carmilla, if I were to explain to you in detail how my snack went last night, I might get arrested for severe verbal abuse to a little girl." He twirled the fork through his fingers casually, keeping his eyes pegged on Carmilla, "...and the shot glasses? If you're so worried about them, then maybe you should let me throw you instead next time--- that would surely lighten my mood a hundred times more than a mere shotglass." On a whim, he threw the fork he was playing with at the wall behind Carmilla; far enough to not hit her, and close enough to hear the audible "twang!" of the fork.

When their father had entered the room, he did not bother to retrieve his fork, and instead fixed himself on his chair. Images were very important for their father because he was a rich noble in Ravenheart. "Good morning father. I was just having a pleasant game of fork-darts with Carmilla. Care to join us?" Their father had no plans to fool around, so when the food was served, he dismissed Edmund's offer with a, "Eat, Edmund"

Edmund stared at the plate of food he was given, and made a face. He took a bite from the meat and the vegetables, then pushed his plate away, "I'm full. I'm done eating" he wiped his mouth with the table napkin, then finished his wine. He leaned on his hand, evidently bored, and scanned the room for something else to do. His gaze fell on Carmilla, and his abysmal eyes glinted with malice. "How do you fare, Carmilla? How was Steven? Is he man-of-my-dreams material? Is he as good as some of the maids here say? You know what I'm talking about Carmilla. Please do tell us of your many nightly "adventures" with Steven, assuming that you do have some, right?" an evil grin began to form across his handsome face.

It's payback time.