Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2015 16:16:07 GMT -5
Popoff Pavlov Krupin slept in twin size bed that remained the same after fifteen years of being away from home. The bed was too small for the young man, which caused Krupin's feet to hang over the ledge. Popoff's quilt had a picture of his favorite super hero, Captain America, on it Popoff's room changed little since the last time he spent the night in it. There were small figurines of Power Rangers, lego castles of all sizes, and a library of comic books. The walls were plastered with posters of the Avengers, the X-men, and a dozen other Marvel comic book teams. The carpet was a medium grade fluffy in a bright safety orange color. His grandmother's hated that color, but a younger Popoff begged and pleaded to get his favorite color carpet. A pile of old sweatshirts and sweatpants sat on the corner of his dresser. His dad had been nice enough to lend him some clothes until he could go out and buy his own. The only other additions to the room were a brown worn satchel style messenger bag, a gun harness without a gun in it (confiscated by Terminus along with all of his other weapons while Popoff stayed in New Rome), on a bedpost sticking out of the headboard on his bed, and the last addition was a Black leather Lute case open with a beautifully crafted lute made out of ebony and mahogany. Ancient Roman carvings traced in gold on the musical instrument read “Musica est Vita” or Music is Life.
Anyone with eyes could see that Popoff was not sleeping well on his old bed and not just cause of the size of the mattress. His eyes began to twitch followed by tossing and turning. Sweat dripped emerged first from his face and then everywhere else on his scarred body. The tossing got worse and worse as his breathing grew heavy. Popoff dreamed about some of his nightmarish past in Columbia where some not so nice criminals decided to torture him. The same nightmare had terrorized him since Popoff manage to escape from that vile organization. Krupin's escape from their compound was the first time that he killed another person. In his head, Popoff knew that he probably deserved it a hundred times over and a hundred times worse, but that killing anybody would haunt this demi-god for the rest of his life.. The symptoms of the nightmare continued to worsen as the blood fueled by adrenaline got his body ready for fight or flight response. Krupin's face started to show scars that were nigh invisible silver before the rush of blood become visibly red from almost any distance through his ghostly pale skin.
Red demon like eyes opened up and looked immediately for his gun or a weapon to neutralize the false threat he perceived. Popoff's waterfall of white hair draped around his head unkempt and in every direction. The long scar blistered red across his chest. His body glistened from the sweat pouring out of his ghostly pale skin. In the little moonlight coming in from his window highlighted only enough of him to make anyone in the room think that he was truly some kind of undead monster to be slain. Popoff's body sprung into motion before he had time to think and combat roll of a silent killer out of his bed and grab the closest 'weapon', a baseball bat fit for only elementary students. He held it in one hand as he came up off the floor in a defensive position. His body trembling from the sheer rush of hormones through his body. His heavy breathing was the only noise in the room as he circled the room. It took a few more seconds for Popoff to realize where he was and calmed himself down the best he could. After a few deep inhales with peaceful thoughts about puppies while sitting down on the bed, his pulse relaxed to a reasonable rate.
Popoff leaned the bat next on the nightstand as his hands moved to rubbed out the sand on his eyes. “What am I doing,” the young man whispered to himself, “You are home. Popoff, Nothing is going to attack you here except for your own stupid self.” His hands moved his silky banes from out of his face. Taking in a few more deep breaths before flopping backwards on his bed. Closing his eyes going deep into thought for only a few minutes before Popoff realize he was not going to be able to go back to sleep that night. Krupin thought that his childhood mattress felt like trying to fall asleep on a marshmallow. Sleeping on the ground with no cushion had ruined Popoff to the feeling of a real bed. This did not include the fact that a twin size mattress was way to small for a man over six foot tall. Popoff was use to laying on his back, but to get his feet under the covers on his childhood bed he had to sleep on his side curl up into a ball, which was no assistance to sleep schedule either.
Popoff Krupin swung his legs over the bed and proceeded to do a light workout regiment consisting of varying push ups, sit ups, and squats. This behavior became habit over many years on the run. Being physically fit allowed Popoff to keep ahead of all the interesting parties hunting him. After Krupin got his short workout out of the way, the demigod sat on his bed to comb his hair and then began to braid his long white hair into a single braid that went to the middle of his back.. His hair was very fine and strait making tangles a rare occurrence if any. He walked over the dresser looking at the neon color sweats his father lent him until he could go out and buy some more clothing of his own. Neon purple sweatpants and a matching purple t-shirt with the Camp logo was not Popoff's ideal of fashion.
Regretfully, Krupin put on the clothes and check himself in the mirror. His appearance surprised himself with his appearance. His mental image of himself was completely different then what his true appearance showed. Popoff thinned out a lot over his time away, but not eating three square meals a day while running for your life would do that to you. His cheekbones and jawbone stuck out more then what he remember and his skin seemed more ghostly thin then what it was when he left.. His eyes seemed a lot older colder then what he remember. The slight silver scars on his face barely showed now that his blood was no longer pumped up on adrenaline. Popoff remember looking into this mirror before he left on his decade long journey with his legionnaire regulation cut hair and before growth spurt chubby cheeks. That was his self-image he had all along his journey and it let him understood why some people jumped away from him when he threaten them when they saw his true face. His eyes where never settling to look at, but now they were something else. They had became cold and filled with pain. Popoff himself couldn't bare to look into his eyes for more then a few seconds before turning away.
He grabbed his leather hat off the shelf and put it on along with his matching brown leather jacket. Popoff walked over to the corner of his room with the lute in it. The lute was one of the few things he picked up on his quest before he manage to make it back to Camp Jupiter. The lute came out of a back room at a warehouse he was held and tortured in. At the time, Krupin had no clue why he chose to grab that along with his all his other stuff, but something deep inside of him said to take it and so Popoff took the Lute and it's case. A few days later Popoff realize that he could in fact play the lute perfectly without having to be taught. The more the young demigod played with the musical instrument the better Krupin got with it. Now music was his release for his emotions.
The man stood over the lute for a few seconds thinking about all the emotions he had played on the twelve string instrument. Closing the case, Popoff locked the lute securely inside of it. Krupin picked the lute and sneaked out of his room through the window. Popoff's father's house was old and he would wake everyone in the house if he would try to use the hallway. The twenty-five year old jumped off of the second floor landing with no more sound then of a church mouse. Krupin began to walk towards the forest where he planned to spend the next couple of hours alone and with his instrument. The walk was fairly uneventful, but quite enjoyable to the young man. The breeze chilled enough to keep a mild walking place with out getting overheated. The moon was out in full tonight making the path into the woods visible and easy to follow.
Popoff Pavlov Krupin hand not been to his favorite hiding spot in the woods for over ten years now and he began to wonder if it had change at all. Did the family of squirrels still lived in that hollow out tree? Did the breeze still pass through the clearing with the woods enough to relax you while you napped? Did the sound of the creek passing by still calmed a man enough to put him to sleep. Did the trees sing the same song after all this time? His anticipation made Popoff pick up pace on a subconscious level. A few minutes later he ended up in the clearing with the large boulder in the center of it. The clearing felt exactly the same to the young man. A tear ran down his cheek overwhelmed with emotion from seeing his childhood sanctuary remained the same. A decade away and it seemed like New Rome was completely different city. The camp was the same old same, but that place just didn't hold all the emotion and this little clearing in the woods held for Popoff. When his sisters aggravated him, when his father did not understood him, or whenever Krupin just needed a place to get away from it all—this is where Popoff would come and spend hours upon hours laying against that big boulder of a rock.
The demigod wiped the tear off of his cheek and sat his next course of action to walk towards the rock. It was smaller then what Popoff remember but it was still the same rock. After examining the grass around the rock he found a place where the mourning dew was already dried and sat down. Popoff took off his hat and open the lute case with a satisfying pop of the lock. The cool rock on his back as he leaned his head upon gave him the same feeling he felt as a kid against the rock. The stream rustle its little song as a strong breeze pick up the melody of the swaying trees. Popoff was finally at peace in that moment after so much time had pass. Breathing in deeply before letting out a sigh was the true sign of relaxation for Krupin.
Popoff's arms reached out to pick up the lute and hug it into a comfortable playing position. His left leg propped up with his knee in the air and his foot flat on the grass. Krupin's right leg remained strait across the grass and his head leaned forward. Th man's eyes were closed as he felt the sounds of nature and he began to play his lute. At first he played an symphony from Mozzart, but Popoff felt the song was out of touch for where he was and stopped. Krupin listen to the music already being played by the sounds of the forest. Nodding his head to a beat that only someone with an ear for music could hear before strumming a note upon the first string of the musical instrument. The second note came a few seconds later and the third came quicker then the second. Soon he was strumming the strings of the instrument into a song. The trees sway and dance to the tune of his symphony as the creek's splashes and dribbles added their own addition to the song. A bird chirp in here and there making a song that could only be sung by mother nature herself and for the first time all was right in the world from the eyes of Popoff Pavlov Krupin.
Anyone with eyes could see that Popoff was not sleeping well on his old bed and not just cause of the size of the mattress. His eyes began to twitch followed by tossing and turning. Sweat dripped emerged first from his face and then everywhere else on his scarred body. The tossing got worse and worse as his breathing grew heavy. Popoff dreamed about some of his nightmarish past in Columbia where some not so nice criminals decided to torture him. The same nightmare had terrorized him since Popoff manage to escape from that vile organization. Krupin's escape from their compound was the first time that he killed another person. In his head, Popoff knew that he probably deserved it a hundred times over and a hundred times worse, but that killing anybody would haunt this demi-god for the rest of his life.. The symptoms of the nightmare continued to worsen as the blood fueled by adrenaline got his body ready for fight or flight response. Krupin's face started to show scars that were nigh invisible silver before the rush of blood become visibly red from almost any distance through his ghostly pale skin.
Red demon like eyes opened up and looked immediately for his gun or a weapon to neutralize the false threat he perceived. Popoff's waterfall of white hair draped around his head unkempt and in every direction. The long scar blistered red across his chest. His body glistened from the sweat pouring out of his ghostly pale skin. In the little moonlight coming in from his window highlighted only enough of him to make anyone in the room think that he was truly some kind of undead monster to be slain. Popoff's body sprung into motion before he had time to think and combat roll of a silent killer out of his bed and grab the closest 'weapon', a baseball bat fit for only elementary students. He held it in one hand as he came up off the floor in a defensive position. His body trembling from the sheer rush of hormones through his body. His heavy breathing was the only noise in the room as he circled the room. It took a few more seconds for Popoff to realize where he was and calmed himself down the best he could. After a few deep inhales with peaceful thoughts about puppies while sitting down on the bed, his pulse relaxed to a reasonable rate.
Popoff leaned the bat next on the nightstand as his hands moved to rubbed out the sand on his eyes. “What am I doing,” the young man whispered to himself, “You are home. Popoff, Nothing is going to attack you here except for your own stupid self.” His hands moved his silky banes from out of his face. Taking in a few more deep breaths before flopping backwards on his bed. Closing his eyes going deep into thought for only a few minutes before Popoff realize he was not going to be able to go back to sleep that night. Krupin thought that his childhood mattress felt like trying to fall asleep on a marshmallow. Sleeping on the ground with no cushion had ruined Popoff to the feeling of a real bed. This did not include the fact that a twin size mattress was way to small for a man over six foot tall. Popoff was use to laying on his back, but to get his feet under the covers on his childhood bed he had to sleep on his side curl up into a ball, which was no assistance to sleep schedule either.
Popoff Krupin swung his legs over the bed and proceeded to do a light workout regiment consisting of varying push ups, sit ups, and squats. This behavior became habit over many years on the run. Being physically fit allowed Popoff to keep ahead of all the interesting parties hunting him. After Krupin got his short workout out of the way, the demigod sat on his bed to comb his hair and then began to braid his long white hair into a single braid that went to the middle of his back.. His hair was very fine and strait making tangles a rare occurrence if any. He walked over the dresser looking at the neon color sweats his father lent him until he could go out and buy some more clothing of his own. Neon purple sweatpants and a matching purple t-shirt with the Camp logo was not Popoff's ideal of fashion.
Regretfully, Krupin put on the clothes and check himself in the mirror. His appearance surprised himself with his appearance. His mental image of himself was completely different then what his true appearance showed. Popoff thinned out a lot over his time away, but not eating three square meals a day while running for your life would do that to you. His cheekbones and jawbone stuck out more then what he remember and his skin seemed more ghostly thin then what it was when he left.. His eyes seemed a lot older colder then what he remember. The slight silver scars on his face barely showed now that his blood was no longer pumped up on adrenaline. Popoff remember looking into this mirror before he left on his decade long journey with his legionnaire regulation cut hair and before growth spurt chubby cheeks. That was his self-image he had all along his journey and it let him understood why some people jumped away from him when he threaten them when they saw his true face. His eyes where never settling to look at, but now they were something else. They had became cold and filled with pain. Popoff himself couldn't bare to look into his eyes for more then a few seconds before turning away.
He grabbed his leather hat off the shelf and put it on along with his matching brown leather jacket. Popoff walked over to the corner of his room with the lute in it. The lute was one of the few things he picked up on his quest before he manage to make it back to Camp Jupiter. The lute came out of a back room at a warehouse he was held and tortured in. At the time, Krupin had no clue why he chose to grab that along with his all his other stuff, but something deep inside of him said to take it and so Popoff took the Lute and it's case. A few days later Popoff realize that he could in fact play the lute perfectly without having to be taught. The more the young demigod played with the musical instrument the better Krupin got with it. Now music was his release for his emotions.
The man stood over the lute for a few seconds thinking about all the emotions he had played on the twelve string instrument. Closing the case, Popoff locked the lute securely inside of it. Krupin picked the lute and sneaked out of his room through the window. Popoff's father's house was old and he would wake everyone in the house if he would try to use the hallway. The twenty-five year old jumped off of the second floor landing with no more sound then of a church mouse. Krupin began to walk towards the forest where he planned to spend the next couple of hours alone and with his instrument. The walk was fairly uneventful, but quite enjoyable to the young man. The breeze chilled enough to keep a mild walking place with out getting overheated. The moon was out in full tonight making the path into the woods visible and easy to follow.
Popoff Pavlov Krupin hand not been to his favorite hiding spot in the woods for over ten years now and he began to wonder if it had change at all. Did the family of squirrels still lived in that hollow out tree? Did the breeze still pass through the clearing with the woods enough to relax you while you napped? Did the sound of the creek passing by still calmed a man enough to put him to sleep. Did the trees sing the same song after all this time? His anticipation made Popoff pick up pace on a subconscious level. A few minutes later he ended up in the clearing with the large boulder in the center of it. The clearing felt exactly the same to the young man. A tear ran down his cheek overwhelmed with emotion from seeing his childhood sanctuary remained the same. A decade away and it seemed like New Rome was completely different city. The camp was the same old same, but that place just didn't hold all the emotion and this little clearing in the woods held for Popoff. When his sisters aggravated him, when his father did not understood him, or whenever Krupin just needed a place to get away from it all—this is where Popoff would come and spend hours upon hours laying against that big boulder of a rock.
The demigod wiped the tear off of his cheek and sat his next course of action to walk towards the rock. It was smaller then what Popoff remember but it was still the same rock. After examining the grass around the rock he found a place where the mourning dew was already dried and sat down. Popoff took off his hat and open the lute case with a satisfying pop of the lock. The cool rock on his back as he leaned his head upon gave him the same feeling he felt as a kid against the rock. The stream rustle its little song as a strong breeze pick up the melody of the swaying trees. Popoff was finally at peace in that moment after so much time had pass. Breathing in deeply before letting out a sigh was the true sign of relaxation for Krupin.
Popoff's arms reached out to pick up the lute and hug it into a comfortable playing position. His left leg propped up with his knee in the air and his foot flat on the grass. Krupin's right leg remained strait across the grass and his head leaned forward. Th man's eyes were closed as he felt the sounds of nature and he began to play his lute. At first he played an symphony from Mozzart, but Popoff felt the song was out of touch for where he was and stopped. Krupin listen to the music already being played by the sounds of the forest. Nodding his head to a beat that only someone with an ear for music could hear before strumming a note upon the first string of the musical instrument. The second note came a few seconds later and the third came quicker then the second. Soon he was strumming the strings of the instrument into a song. The trees sway and dance to the tune of his symphony as the creek's splashes and dribbles added their own addition to the song. A bird chirp in here and there making a song that could only be sung by mother nature herself and for the first time all was right in the world from the eyes of Popoff Pavlov Krupin.