"Oh. Yes, how rude of me." he said, sweeping his hand across the room. "It's a pretty big room, all things considered. I think it might have been used for dissections at some point. You can see all these hooks on the wall. I've taken the liberty of facing them against the wall."
Billy is right, it's a pretty big room. More of a work room than a bedroom. Maybe the size of a small classroom.Most of the left wall in taken up by a long worktable, upon which sits various sticks and hairs, piles of rusty jewelry, a book on air fighting and tactics loaned to him by Asoka what felt like forever ago, A package containing all of James communicators the large jar with the preserved brain, eyes, and jaw arranger into a macabre face, and the pile of course hairs where the spider doll used to reside.
"I'm going to try and use it as a sentry. You know, to watch my room while I'm out." he says in regards to the brain. "Undead Assistant # 2: Terroreyes."
Between Billies long worktable and bed is a window, allowing a full view of the campus cemetery. Sitting in the window are two rosebushes, one whose flowers were bright orange, the others opal black. "It's symbolic of the rulers of my kingdom. The Black is Grandfather, king of the living. The Orange is for the Dawn Empress, ruler of the dead." He looked sheepish when their eyes fell about the flowerpots, both of which were in the shape of humorous cows. "Uh, this is them." He said, directing their attention to the pictures he had hanging on his wall.
One was of a skeleton, draped in black robes that hid most of his features except his eyes. In the unnaturally dark sockets burned two pinprick of blue light. "That's Grandfather." Billy explained. "He's the one who founded out country after he was stabbed and left for dead by his treacherous uncle over 1000 years ago. He used Necromancy to take his country back and free his people with an army of the Honored dead. Our home was almost literally built on their backs."
The other was a radiant young woman in her early twenties, dressed from head to toe in the finest of orange silks. "That's the empress. She's Grandfathers sister. Well, not really. But it's believed that she reincarnates every times she dies so that Grandfather won't have to bare the loneliness of ruling alone. Grandfather makes the rules for the living, and the Empress controls the Honored Dead, the Dawnguard. It's a statement of trust from Grandfather, to show that the living and the dead can work together."
The next few pictures are of various suits of golden armor, polished to a mirror sheen with red and orange trappings. "That's the Dawnguard. These are actually a few of my relatives, my mother told me. Only the dead are allowed to wear those colors associated with the empress, to give their bones as much worth as possible. The living only wear dark colors, as a sigh of respect."
The little procession finally makes it's way to the bedside table, where Billy picks up a final framed photo. "And this is my mother. Here." The woman in the photo does not look like a diplomat. Her hair is gold and curls naturally, like Billy's, and it cut short but stylishly. She's dressed like a caviler, in all black. Pants, boots, shirt expertly tailored and sealed with a purple bow. She's also covered in scars, some sliding down her face and visible on her neck. She has an eye-patch on, the skin around it looking burned. She's missing an arm. If it weren't for the look of happiness on her face, her air of quiet dignity, and the eight year old Billy smiling and waving beside her, you could easily mistake this woman for a pirate.
Billy pays no mind to this, setting the picture down and showing off the opposite corner from his bed past the wardrobe and bookshelf. Gobs bed and desk don;t take up much room at all, and the sight of him napping in it are actually kind of cute.
Hey son, wanna' learn how ta' make witch balls?
Locked
