...Wandering is more like it [OPEN]

[Aliyyah]

Hannibal looked over at Brendan for a second. Was it not obvious? No, probably not. For most people, couldn't distinguish the differences of a full blooded vampire verses and half blooded one. It wasn't all that obvious really, but Hannibal knew very well the differences, colorless skin, eyes as black as coal, much stronger and more built appearances. Those are the minor difference that people can see, but most of the things that matter are what the vampires can do that half vampires can't. One wouldn't be able to tell the difference unless they knew a vampire well enough to be able to know differences, and to be honest, people and vampires didn't really hang out. You know they got that whole, lion and prey thing going.
"Yes, my mother's family is all witches and wizards, while my father's family, as far back as he can go has traces of vampires."

Hannibal said looking over at Brendan. He wasn't bothered to admit that for he'd much rather be half then pure blooded. He'd have more trouble doing magic if he was full blooded, and it would be harder for him to spend as much time in the sun. He burns easily enough as it is, he doesn't need that little extra that full vampires have. They can't go in the hardly any, no they will not spontaneously combust like books say they will, but they burns 100 times easier then Hannibal will. He looked over at Brendan for a second, and his features were stretched by a yawn as he reached his arms out to his side, and then covered his mouth. Usually, he'd be back in his dorm by now, sleeping. The sun would rise in a few hours, meaning that he wouldn't be able to sleep. He needed to get some curtains that would darken his room so he could sleep longer. It would seem like a good investment.


*Eek, mine's short too. Sorry.*

[Brendan[us] Carrillo]

.x.

[black]it took a few packed bags and a few slammed doors
it took a false, false smile with a septic pause[/black]

Brendan allowed a sigh to escape his lips. It wasn't because of the silence, for that had remained for too long that he probably got used to it more than babbling around, but it was just a mere though: a question that had hung across Brendan's mind for too long, but was not willing to accept the answer. What if the answer was not really the happiest thoughts, as Brendan might have guessed from Hannibal's face, much like what Brendan wanted to hide everything from his pale features. Brendan hadn't noticed one thing, though, from all the events that had happened in the encounter tonight, he barely had any time to glance around, to know, at least, what was this place, for being a new student in this school wasn't anything easy, especially if you are a Werewolf. Brendan still didn't even know where he would be going during a full moon, but there was always his empty dorm room.

It didn't seem that much happens there, except perhaps the darkness that lingered upon it and the many unnerving silences, but it didn't matter to the young werewolf, though, for he could care less about anything as long as he remains alone, without anyone else in that Sceleris dorm room. Finally, the question that he wanted to ask popped louder in his mind, as Brendan attempted to utter the right choices of words, for the wrong ones weren't what he needed for this night. "Why have you stopped attacking me suddenly? I mean, not to sound too unhappy, or ungrateful or anything along those lines, but why?" he asked him, his voice somewhat clear yet soft once again.

Tonight, the vampire had proved to be an interesting opponent, and Brendan, even though not admitting to himself and most definitely not to the vampire Hannibal, he had grown rather fond with him. The question hadn't been said in an aggressive way, but in a way that showed curiosity, deep curiosity, and merely wonder. From what Brendan had seen tonight, the Vampire had seemed to be much of a bipolar person, but Brendan knew it was something other than that, something deeper that involved memories and scenes from history. They usually say that History Repeats Itself, and Brendan very much believed in that saying, seeing as everything around him revolved around one thing and only one thing: Hatred. Coldness. Without Emotions. That's how Brendan grew in his house, not home, for he would never consider his house a home. That's how Brendan will grow in his d.amn Uncle's house, and that is how Brendan will spend the rest of his Veneficus years, which was a remainder of one. Brendan somehow considered Veneficus to be a home, but being himself, he would rather be caught dead than admitting that, same goes to everything else, he just is very stubborn in admitting something, but Hannibal had extracted many things from him tonight, and Brendan knew it wouldn't be the only thing that he would extract from him tonight.

[black]from my plastic moustache to your clip-on claws
in other words i hate you[/black]

[/center][/size]

[Aliyyah]

The thought that those words would escape Brendan's vocals had totally evaded Hannibal, for most would find that if he'd stopped attacking them, that they would thank god, or whoever they chose to thank. No one questions a vampire upon their decisions, especially if it is anything like this occasion, where he backed down from an attack that he'd been ready for all night. He could very well still take a try to win him over, but the past haunts his mind more clearly everyday. Everything he does has something to do with how he grew up. With the troubles he faced as a little boy, and still to this very day, he faced those same troubles. It was horrible that Hannibal was still bothered so harshly by all that he remembered, but he couldn't ever forget it. No one would ever be able to forget all that he went through. the pain and suffering, the long nights he'd cried himself to sleep. How much he pleaded to just be left along. all the feelings of anger that dwelled inside him as a little boy. It all haunted him.

His eyes looked to the werewolf as the two stood their. Brendan's voice had been quiet, and filled without anger or anything of the sort, but a deep curiosity and wonder. He spoke, like he knew that this was going to a rough answer, if however Hannibal chose to answer at all. This had been, an interesting night, we can say. First he'd just started out like usual, and lunged for pin the werewolf to the ground, and the night would have been over, but progressing events have lead them here. Where the other had asked a question that would almost complicated to answer. Of course, he could just say why he stopped right then and there, but that's never a good enough answer. It need more to it because the answer seems so incomplete.

A long moment of silence surrounded the two, and Hannibal's eyes didn't leave Brendan's features. Soft lyrics escaped his vocals, as he began to walk. He wasn't walking away from Brendan, it was just a unconscious jester that people tended to do when they were thinking, or Hannibal did when he was thinking. "You want to know why...?" he asked, more as a question to himself with a thoughtful pause near the end, as he thought how to place the words of his answer. There was a certain way he had to say it, or one might not understand. There were no similes he could use to describe it, or no riddles that he could piece together for the werewolf to figure out. For once in his life he'd have to explain something, fully without making the other think. He stopped walking for a moment and looked to Brendan. "Have you ever felt like you had been through something exactly like this before? Maybe not this moment to you like I have felt tonight... but a moment where you could swear that you'd had been through at an earlier point in your life?" The werewolf could have answered, but Hannibal took little time for him to get any chance to answer, for he'd started to walk again, and his eyes left the features of the other.

"When I stopped earlier, I felt like that. I felt like I had been in a situation like this before, not this exact kind of thing, but in a distorted sense, it was just like this. You were backed against the tree, and it was like a wall, preventing you from going anywhere, and I... Was just a man feeling no mercy." For a long moment, Hannibal paused in his speaking. He hadn't known how to describe how he'd felt in that incident before, where he normally would have attacked Brendan and left him until he'd woken up. He wouldn't have remembered a thing the next morning except the pain in his neck, and this night would have been all over. He stopped walking again and look to Brendan, his eyes showed nothing as he looked around them. "I saw the exact thing that me and my father were like. I was backed against a wall, with nowhere to go, and he kept getting closer. He felt no feeling of guilt for hurting a young boy, nor a feeling of mercy when I begged and pleaded to be left alone. I am certain you didn't feel like that, but a certain look I saw in your eyes at that moment... It scared me." Hannibal said, his voice dying to almost less then a whisper as he stood still, eyes having fallen to the ground.

[Brendan[us] Carrillo]

.x.

[black]it took a thousand fights with a thousand draws
it took a blinkered vision for a long lost cause[/black]

As he heard the soft words of the other, Brendan couldn't help but advert his eyes somewhere else, landing on the tree. A soft sigh escaped his lips, for he had known what would be heard will not be a happy memory. He didn't feel sympathy, though, for he hated it when people felt sympathetic towards him and was sure that Hannibal's case was the same. Even if he had fought all night, he had saved a soft spot for the young vampire, allowing his thoughts to mingle across his words. Brendan hadn't fully known what he was talking about when he first asked the question, but then, his confused thoughts were pealed away only to bring about a soft Brendan, and the werewolf had no regrets. Brendan hadn't felt anything like that all night, for he had known that this was a new "experience," something that will be marked upon the werewolf's memory for as long as he lives, unlike Hannibal, who clearly contained other thoughts. As the vampire's eyes were adverted towards the ground, Brendan hadn't dared look back, for he still was deep in thought.

Brendan knew no matter what happened, he would never be able to feel what the vampire had felt, for Hannibal's experience was... different. Brendan could've done something, pushed him away, or anything for that matter, but he didn't, not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want to, knowing ever since then that he had contained a barrier that protected the soft spot and that he would do nothing to break it, but his emotions took over him, allowing his barriers to break almost instantly. He had hated that at the beginning, but as those mere seconds had passed, he knew that he wouldn't be able to admit to himself that he hadn't hated it. Brendan's thoughts traveled from Hannibal towards his own parents. His parents were a different story - no, they weren't at all caring [Brendan resisted the urge to laugh out loud sarcastically at that mere though] - but they were ones to not care about their son. They would allow him to do whatever he wants, hell, if he kills himself then they will be alright with that. Brendan could care less about them treating him that way, but he would never allow them to treat Leah like that, and so, he was replaced as both her mother, father, and older brother. It was never a hard task for Brendan, for he had loved her so much he would die for her.

But now, that his parents are gone, she was placed in his Uncle's. His Uncle was worse than his parents. Sure, he could care less about what happens to them, but he was one to lower their self-esteem. "You are nothing but an ogre. An idiotic werewolf. A monster. A shame to this family...." He could remember his words striking through him. Brendan was only a young boy when he started that, ever since he was a human, and his Uncle was one of the first people to know of his werewolf-ness, for the cousin that bit him was his son. It wasn't a joyful scene, for after Brendan had become a werewolf, his Uncle would lower his self-esteem even more. That is why Brendan would think of himself as a "monster". That is why he would think of his werewolf-ness as a "disease." He was mostly afraid of his sister, of what his Uncle might tell her, for his sister was still fragile, young, and unbroken. His thoughts had shifted almost immediately as Brendan heard a sigh escape his lips.

It wasn’t as if he was the one to bring those thoughts to the surface of his mind, but another spirit haunting him. He shook these thoughts off, as finally, he plucked up enough courage to glance back at Hannibal. "Han-nibal" his voice came out as a soft, reluctant whisper, for it wasn't as if he had to call anyone by their first name before. Brendan lifted his hand for mere seconds, placing it reluctantly on Hannibal's shoulder, not out of sympathy, but for reassuring-ness, but then retrieved it down immediately as if it was a bad choice of actions, then continued, once again softly "I know that I do not know who your father is, but I have a general idea of what a person he is like from what you have said. Your father didn't seem very much like a likeable person to you after he had done that, and if you ever do think that you are much of your father in any way, I can tell you that it isn't true. For one, from your choice of words, you do not seem to have taken a likability towards this man, but tonight, I can very much prove to you that I have taken a liking in you, meaning that you couldn't have done anything wrong." As Brendan uttered the words, his gaze kept along Hannibal, and for once, out of his own accord, he didn't shift his gaze anywhere. He surely hated admitting such facts, but then again, he had known the vampire would extract too many from him.

[black]as romeo leaves to light applause
and softly says i hate you[/black]

[Aliyyah]

Hannibal had never enjoyed when one was sympathetic. What did it do? They felt sorry but never really understood what being sorry meant. No one was ever able to know what a person went through unless they focused on understanding instead of just feeling sorry... Hannibal avoided feeling sympathetic because he hated when other people felt that way for him. Some people you couldn't get them to change though. They always felt sorry for someone and it would never change. He was glad that Brendan hadn't done that, he stayed calm and had a sort of gentle, look and sound to the werewolf. So much had changed for the boy tonight, he must have been a whole new person. His cold unemotional outer shell had been broken like it was only a glass window, and even still, that small cover he had for his emotions was being pulled away as Hannibal spoke. Their eyes didn't met after Hannibal looked to the ground, for it seemed that neither dared to find the others eyes.

Hannibal hadn't quite known what it was like to have parents that didn't care about him, because his mother cared about him, but she was hidden behind a soft outer shell that feared her husband as much as Hannibal feared the man. But his father on the other hand, cared about Hannibal in a kind of distorted way. No he'd never stuck up for his son or held him affectionately in his arms like a father should, but if Hannibal threatened to kill himself, he would have stopped him.... only so that he could be the one to do it. His father would make sure that he was the one who controlled his son and no one else. He never had a brother or a sister either, and he was thankful for that. If his father got the chance to ruin another persons life Hannibal would end up behind bars for premeditated man slaughter.

Brendan shouldn't think of himself as a beast. Yeah it was easy for Hannibal to say that because he didn't go through all the emotional abuse that the werewolf had gone through with his uncle, but he should know the good about himself. He seemed to be a well rounded being when you got through that thick and stubborn outer self. He was gentle and somewhat friendly. He wasn't all that mean as he can off, or so Hannibal didn't think that. Hannibal had been around a lot of people who were a lot meaner, and a lot more cold hearted then Brendan. Before Hannibal would have much preferred to tear the anger right out of Brendan and just egg him on until he exploded, but he had grown rather fond of the nicer side to him.

Their eyes met for a minute as the werewolf spoke. His tones were quiet and there was a slight pause between his lyrics as he spoke the name of the vampire. A gentle hand came to rest upon his shoulder, it wasn't in a way that said I'm sorry, but it was more reassuring, saying that things would be alright, but when Hannibal looked over at Brendan for a brief second, his hand was withdrawal even before Hannibal's eyes had completely fallen to the other's face, as if it hadn't been a smart move. It was alright Hannibal guessed, no harm in it, but in no way had such a thing been expected. Brendan started to speak again, his words were soft, but Hannibal listened carefully. What Brendan said came as a shock to him for Brendan said that he hadn't really liked anyone because like can turn to something worse, he preferred to hate everyone so nothing bad came of it all.
"That's good to hear, Brendan. But earlier, I felt almost horrified that I was doing such a thing, I mean, it is who I am I suppose, but I reminded myself so much of my father that it bothered me. He is narcissistic and very controlling, with a horrible temper. I have the same temper, but I can control it better then he can..." Hannibal spoke with soft lyrics as he looked at the other, his brown eyes showing a lot of nothing, but they weren't cold as before.

He didn't know why he was telling all of this to Brendan. I mean, what would come out of it? Brendan probably wanted to keep his reputation of being a b.astard up there so no one wanted to get this close to him. Hannibal seemed to have a way of being able to get close to someone and being able to talk, or to get them to talk. Was he just manipulative and able to find people's soft spots with great ease, or did he always meet people that despite how they seemed on the outside, were totally different on the inside? He didn't really know.

[Brendan[us] Carrillo]

[black]my attitude leaves a lot to be desired
my fashion sense has never been quite right[/black]

Surely Brendan didn't want to admit everything he had just uttered, but he knew it was a different something possessing him that made him say those words. He did think thoroughly through his words, but it wasn’t until now that he realized what he had said. Brendan wouldn't usually care, but now, it's obvious that it was the complete contrary. "Hannibal..." the difficulty of using the first name vanished almost immediately, as he continued "You're in Veneficus now..." He began once again, attempting to reach a point. Veneficus was a home to many people, students or teachers, and being here sent warmth to Brendan as he was pretty sure almost everyone felt that way, and even if Brendan did have a house, he considered Veneficus as his home. But the name somewhat was very hard to say, being so heavy on the tongue. Brendan was thinking so deep in attempting to pronounce the name right in his mind that he almost forgot what he was about to say. Now that's a very bad trait of Brendan, being a little bit too distracted in one thing.

Brendan couldn't really say he understood Hannibal, for he had never been through physical abuse, not like that at least; and Brendan was no vampire either to state that he understood, but somehow, neither seemed like much of a big deal because everything seemed to be crystal clear in his mind. He had never been through the same experiences Hannibal had been through, but in a way or another, he knew what it felt like. It was all a result in meeting this vampire tonight. Not in a million years would Brendan admit anything, no matter how minor it is, to anyone. Even when his thoughts traveled towards the girl he snapped at earlier for no reason, he felt some guilt searing through him. Sure, it was only a teeny tiny bit of guilt, but that would be a big step for Brendan. That girl was one of the few contacts he had had ever since arriving. The other was Hannibal, a couple of people he had a duel with upon arriving firstly, and those people seating themselves in the Dining Hall.

It wasn't much, but it would be for Brendan seeing as he only arrived this year, due to his disease werewolf-ness. If it was all to Brendan, living his life on his own accord, then he would never had thought of himself as something along the lines of a monster, but no, he just had to have his Uncle there. He seems to lower everyone's self esteems, but thankfully, Brendan was able to protect his sister from him, till now. Brendan even almost felt sorry for his cousin, of which is his Uncle's son. Sure, they had been through the same experiences, but Brendan still hadn't forgotten that because of him, he now was never the person he would ever be, or at least, that's what Brendan thinks. But the real question here was: Who was Brendan? What was he? Really a beast as his Uncle states, as almost everyone in society as well states, or was he a normal person, just like any other but only turns into a werewolf during the full moon. That's not what people would think; that's not what his family, to be more precise: his Uncle, would ever think, and it most definitely was not what Brendan himself thought. Life was only bringing too many complications for the young werewolf, and most definitely he didn't need as such during this age.

Just a few days in Veneficus yet a lot had happened, no one would've figured out as such. Was it that every day in Veneficus is eventful and an "adventure," well it seemed as such in this chilly night. Finally, as if reality struck him that he'd been somewhat quiet for a long time, thinking, he started again "You're in Veneficus, probably the only time you will never have to meet anyone outside here. These walls will protect any bad memories from penetrating through them, and unless you choose to ignore whatever the thoughts sent to your head, you will never get over that. I'm not saying that you will ever get over it, but it will be better if you spend your days in Veneficus not wondering about that and having a good time, because if anything, this might be the only time you'll have to do that. One more eventful year after this one, and Veneficus will close its doors upon us, at least as students. As far as I know, I don't want to think about anything that had happened outside Veneficus, unless happy thoughts do come..." he almost said which was rare, but kept his words inside.

"...if your father decides to come here and hurt you, then believe me, he will be much of a dim-witted person. It isn't likely that you will be left alone during this time, for now at least, when he does come, you will have people that care about you behind your back. Surely you can't keep allowing him to do that forever. I know that every single person will have to face their worst fears once in a while, every one. But I won't be the one talking to you about that, since I still haven't faced mine, but my point is to forget everything about that..." Brendan, thankfully, caught himself from cursing, and replaced the words with "your father." Tonight, he had admitted too many facts, and he regretted some, but was thankful for others. His gaze lingered upon the other's as he never did turn away. This time it wasn't out of his instincts controlling him, but it was himself wanting to do that. Formerly, he had stated that he closed himself up and liked no one because of what would be beyond the hate: hurt, and even if he did know the end of this, he couldn't help but keep himself open up.

[black]but i'd rather live in drainpipes
than with friends that i've acquired
in so many words i hate you[/black]

[Aliyyah]

The other spoke with smooth lyrics, being able to pronounce his name with out any sort of hesitation. It was said without bother, or worry for it being awkward, as he paused for a short second, and his words formed another point. He was indeed at Veneficus, at here he would love to stay, if it was possible, but he'd have to go to his house some time or another. He'd lived there for many years, and no matter what he did to the place it never felt quite as good to be in as a home should. Veneficus had that comforting feeling, that made him want to stay. There were nice people around and it looked great. He could stay here without having to sleep with one eye open and pray that nothing tries to break in. He felt safe here, and it felt great to be at Veneficus, but eventually he'd have to leave. He was a sixth year in the magic institution, not actually being here for all those years, but once he reaches a certain age, he'll be gone. So unless he chooses to become a teacher, which is 99.9% unlikely, he wouldn't be able to return here.

Not many could say that they understood Hannibal, for he was one of those people that was too complex to actually understand. He had too many thoughts and feelings, that he probably dealt with things, that he was even unaware of. Yes, that had to be it. No one could understand him, because he didn't even completely understand himself. There were feelings that got stirred that he was unsure about. Memories, or things that he didn't consciously remember, but they were there no doubt, circling through his mind on a daily basis. He'd never ask anyone to try and understand him though. People have their own problems, and he didn't ever want to add to any of that. He kept most of these darker secrets to himself more often then not, but he'd told Brendan these things tonight, as if out of some random impulse, a need to tell him. Even though the two hadn't known each other hardly long at all, there was some sort of an abstract trait that the two had in common. Hannibal wasn't quite sure what it was, or if his ideas were right, but it was there... He knew it.

Being a werewolf, is just as hard sometimes as being a vampire, if not harder... much harder. Both 'creatures' were shunned in society, and both seen as beasts. Yes, of course they both seen to different extents for the werewolves seemed to have no courtesy as they transformed and hunt. They attacked with brute force and got what they wanted by inflicting pain. While a vampire still kept themselves tidy and neat, and didn't attack with such force, but attacked by playing games with one's mind. Hannibal had many chances to attack Brendan, and could have rather easily, but he enjoyed playing too much. A werewolf is seen more as a beast because when a vampire hunts, they do not actually go through such a 'change', they just hunt, still having that conscious mind of needing to look calm and not stand out. But as Hannibal saw Brendan, he was no beast, just as misunderstood and rather confused. He chose to hide everything within himself, and by doing that, he lacked the practice of being able to open himself calmly, instead of having every feeling coming from him in an over whelming group.

Hannibal's thoughts about Brendan were shaken by the voice as it seemed to boom in the silence. His voice was calm, and much less loud then Hannibal had seemingly imagined it. His word held truth to them, but also held lies, or so Hannibal had thought for a brief moments. These walls couldn't protect him from everything while he was here. these walls had opened rather willingly when Hannibal's father arrived for his weekend stay. There had been no hesitation upon letting him in. He'd been welcomed with open arms, and there he beat Hannibal. He's stayed for a day and a half, and within that short time period, Hannibal had been broken. Again. after the time of thinking he was safe, that brief time he'd felt safe, the man broke it all, and hurt Hannibal. He was lucky, for the beating could have been worse, but still. His mind fell back upon the words that Brendan spoke, and indeed they held truth. He should be here, having as much fun as he could, and then when the doors shut him out, he'll remember the best times, and be able to move on once he is out.

"Your words are true Brendan. I have people here that care about me, an that can back me up, but the walls of this place can't protect us from everything out there. They opened with welcoming arms as my father strolled right onto campus, not a second regret in the world. He had his mind set on me, and that was the end. He was focused on getting to me, and breaking down everything that I had come to feel good about in these few days that I have been here. He may have seemed to have a lack of proper knowledge by coming here, but you know what?" Hannibal's words were hollow as he spoke them and lingered in the air for the long moments as he left the question hanging. There was no anger, but yet no sadness or worry. He spoke with a calm, yet excited tone, not a happy excited, but just the moment that he spoke, his words were fast and seemingly well thought out, all though, Hannibal never seemed to know what he was saying until the words had already parted from his lips. He spoke out of impulse, out of the heat of the moment, and whatever came out would either help him, or tear him apart from the inside out.
"That was the smartest thing that man had ever done." he said quietly, the words leaving his lips almost as if he regretted saying them, and that same hollow tone left them hanging in the silence between either boy. But it was true, that man knew that even at a great distance away from his only child, that he'd be able to tear away from him everything that he held dear. That man was all about the thrill of the hunt. A true born vampire. He was the type that killed without a second thought, and hunted until he couldn't hunt anymore. He was power hungry, and would do anything to make one weep below him, to make one cower beneath his iron fisted dictatorship. He was cold at heart, and his sole was black and lifeless.

His dark eyes found Brendan and were just as hollow as the words had been. Nothing showed in them, and they seemed lifeless. No love, or hate showed within as the chilly breeze whipped around the two. The other held the gaze, not like before, as to where he didn't dare let go, but now it seemed that he mustn't let go, for he felt he needed to look into the vampire's eyes. His gaze lingered, and showed no sign that he'd looked away from Hannibal as his hollow eyes searched Brendan's for something more, but there was nothing. He was open and calm, but there was nothing. Hannibal stood still, his feet firmly planted on the ground, and his arms hanging limply at his sides. His thin features remained silent, as he wasn't sure if he'd left anything for the other to reply to. Hannibal almost wanted to thank him for the words of wisdom he'd provided, for everything he'd told Hannibal had been true, and he'd changed a lot tonight. From a cold hearted creature, to a very open man. He wasn't sure how Brendan would respond to such a thing, so held himself still, and made no changes in his facial features, but his hollow gaze lightened a bit as he looked at the other.

[Brendan[us] Carrillo]

[limegreen]in this world all of our sins are simple
we choose death over innocent life[/limegreen]

Brendan gave one, sharp nod, almost as if he understood. "As I stated before, your father is much of a dim-witted person." Brendan, in a somewhat surprisingly way, did not state that in an insult matter, but rather in a tone which stood firm and clear. The statement that Hannibal spoke could mean one thing: He will never have to have the fear of facing the unspeakable back at home. He had thought over things like that, and if it was Brendan whom suffered such things, he didn't know if he'd even like that, but the only problem was that he will do anything to keep such things away from his sister. But now, she had another problem in hand; Brendan had lived with his Uncle for two years after his parents had discovered about him, and he'd wished if he was dead instead of being there with him and his excuse for a son. Both were arrogant. Both were git-heads. But his Uncle had been the worst that had ever happened to him. He allowed his hands to rub the back part of his neck, in which was formerly experiencing what Hannibal had brought to it, and unconsciously stared into the vampire's eyes. He could've sworn that he could see right through it, and very much in a not literal way. He allowed his hands to travel back to either side of him, before he uttered a deep breath he didn't know he kept.

Sooner that that had exited his lips, he also felt his body go limp, and his figure falling to the floor in more of a graceful way than limping, as he blinked. He hadn't known how long had his body been tense that when he breathed, his tired body had gone limp. Yet another ungraceful move of him tonight. He didn't curse this time, but allowed his gaze to lift up again at Hannibal's and shrug, even though the flush in his cheeks did state anger in himself and somewhat embarrassment for all the balance losing tonight. "It's cold." was his only excuse, and his not genuine tone didn't help that either. Well, Brendan was never one to flush out of coldness or even go limp at that, but it was the best excuse he could think of at the time being, seeing as the intensity of Hannibal's gaze now made him flush even more. He just hated losing balance in front of people, seeing as his Uncle would kindly remind him of how un"Carrillo" is that, and how he is very much a disappointment, blah, blah, blah.

That's all that hung in Brendan's mind right now. His Uncle's words were rather a blur, as he also didn't remove his gaze away. What's the use, if he already remained like that before, he could still do that. Brendan, though, did not move from his place. He didn't want to, or even perhaps can for that matter. In fact, he probably might just camp out here tonight, seeing as the long hours of the night in the castle will be even longer and Brendan could no longer survive the next day. Staying here might have decreased the worries of facing the next day. Besides, the air was Brendan's favorite: Cold, Chilly, and Soothing, not to mention quietness that wasn't unnerving; who would ever think of coming out here tonight and getting huge blisters from the cold instead of sleeping in their warm, cozy bed back in the school's campus.

[limegreen]and in this world it’s not our money that’s evil
it’s the ones who choose it over life[/limegreen]

[/blockquote]

[Aliyyah]

Hannibal's dark eyes gazed into Brendan's deep blue ones and in one split second, the deep breath escaped the werewolf's lungs and within the same second, Hannibal's eyes pieced together Brendan's form falling to the ground. It was as if all in one moment that He'd went from standing tense, and ready for anything, to his figure just dropping. A deep crimson tone had appeared across the other's features, on his cheeks but just under those angry and somewhat embarrassed eyes of his. The abnormally red tone didn't leave his features as Hannibal's dark eyes never left the other's eyes. There was no different kind of look showing in Hannibal's eyes. He was displeased that the other had just practically fallen. It wasn't usual for one's body to just go limp because it was cold, but it was sort of logical. When a person's limbs are numb it is awfully hard to stand, but it wasn't that cold out... or Hannibal didn't think it was that cold out, and he hated the cold weather.

"You alright?" Hannibal asked wonderingly, as he dropped down, bending at the knees and looking at Brendan. He steadied himself by placing a hand on the ground and looked at Brendan's eyes still, his gaze not faltering. He hated staring down at people. He was so tall and Brendan was so close to the ground from the recent 'fall'. From this closer, more level view Hannibal could see just how red Brendan's face had become. It was quite different to see that color on the other's normally pale features. It stood out on his face, just like it would on his own features. Whenever Hannibal's face took in that deep red color there was no way of hiding it. "If you're that cold, its best that you go inside. No one is going to be happy when they come out to find some dude frozen out here." lyrics spoke as he looked at the other. He was partly kidding, because Brendan wouldn't freeze out here. This was as cold as it would probably get tonight, since it was at a late hour, but he partly wasn't kidding, it would be better for him to go inside so he didn't get sick, and so he could get some rest.

Hannibal stayed then, waiting to see what Brendan would do. Hannibal would help him up if he needed any help, but chances were better then good that Hannibal didn't expect him to take any help. His dark eyes stayed, fixed to the deep blue colored eyes that still held the anger from falling. Hannibal could see why someone would be angry for falling, but how someone could hold that anger was beyond him. Hannibal would have stood up by now and acted like he intended for that to happen. He would have done the same if he would have done something in front of his father. He would have stood up and made nothing more of the subject. The longer something awkward happens, the more of a chance his father had to beat into his head that he was pathetic and lame. He tried never to give his father that chance, but so many times Hannibal had cried and begged the man to leave him alone only gave the man more power.