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|SophiaDescole13||Family, Crime|| |
The plot was co-devised with Chrononaut.
Chapter 1: StrangerEdit
"...Remember me. This. Remember this especially."
Lando Ascad would most likely not forget. After all; this man looked uncannily familiar, with his long red hair and dark brown eyes, hidden behind reading glasses on his pale face.
That, and Stranger (his mental nickname for the man) had a sword resting gently on his throat. Not enough to draw blood - or possibly his life. Enough to do so if he moved. He tried not to move.
Stranger took a moment to fix his glasses with his free hand. They were rather lopsided, thrown that way in their duel. Why this man had approached him and challenged him in an alley way in the early hours, of all times and places, Lando didn't know. Lando may be a man infamous for his idiocy, but it took no genius to figure who Stranger was. He was quite sure he'd performed the gesture on purpose, to focus Lando's attention on his face; proving his suspicions, flaunting Stranger's insight.
A few moments came and went - of which Lando guessed, despite what Stranger had said, that he was deciding whether to kill or spare him. The sword, whose steel glinted menacingly in the gold street light, withdrew, allowing Lando to sit up without fear of impaling his throat. Stranger looked down on him, loathing.
"Remember this, when I ask you if you're proud of me,"
For a second Lando thought Stranger was going to stab him, but he flinched purposelessly as Stranger merely articulated the point of his words with the point of his sword. All part of making sure he remembered this day.
"for I am your son."
Damn, there were so many questions building that needed answers. 'Who are you?', 'How are you here?', 'Are you even telling the truth?'. So many damned questions. He wouldn't have the chance to answer them, even ask them for another twenty eight years however as the claiming stranger took a step back and vanished from view before he could blink.
Lando knew he had a son already, little Louam. And a daughter, who was his first child: Fawne. Their ages weren't even two-digit numbers yet, so how was it even physically possible that Stranger, who had to be sixteen at the very least, was another child of his? He knew from his face that he was his child. Features as identical like his, hell, who needed a mirror? And such talent in fighting, that Lando would modestly accept it if you admired, wouldn't have been inherited from Emmy. Lando was a fencer, Emmy was a martial artist. The man, the boy; whatever his age, looked too slender to possess the strength for bare knuckle fighting. Any fighting which involved punching your opponent rather than skewering him. Just like Lando.
Either way, Lando knew it was time to go home.