A Tseng drabble I did awhile ago, and I pretty much liked how it turned out. If everything goes well, I'll probably do a drabble for every character in AHR :D Warning, though. It's dark, and it's my take on how the Turks really are.
The sleeping sun remembered.
He remembered when the days bled into nights, when violence fell away to savage, primal passions that were unspeakable to those who did not understand, and taboo to those who did.
Executioner. Killer. Murderer. Lover.
It never changed, no matter how many faces it tore away. The masks were left behind, one after another, melting, dissipating, molding.
Christened in blood.
Glorified in violence.
Forgotten in absolution.
And the sleeping sun remembered his own absolution, forever denied.
Porcelain. Garnet. Onyx. It danced with Death, weaved into Destiny.
The sleeping sun burned.