The sky was just beginning to bleed crimson as late afternoon made its daily visit to the city of Ryun, filtered as it was through the dome surrounding it. The sky, it was the same color it was the last time he had been there.
In fact, much of the city looked the same. Some buildings had been added, others grew taller, storefronts and signs had changed. The faces, all different, but the constant chatter remained the same as the uncountable voices overlapped and melted into one another to create the incomprehensible mess that assaulted his pointed ears.
Despite the change in appearance, life, it seems, had remained the same. Now if only Prox could say that it was the same for him. Sixty-odd years was a long time to be away, and during that time the downward spiral hadn't slowed. Sixty-odd years had grown his hair out long, covered him in tattoos, and pierced him in more places than he dared publicly mention. Sixty-odd years had all but killed his smile, his sense of humor.
Sixty-odd years, and hundreds of deaths, had pushed him closer and closer to the edge of his sanity. But, those years had not changed Nevermore.
Black and red eyes stared impassively up at the monolithic structure, lost for a moment as he felt a small nostalgic shiver running up his spine. He'd been here, been here at the start of all things. Things had been better, then, at least for awhile. Everyone got along, no one was particularly crazy...yet. The flat line of his mouth quirked upward on one side, pale lips curling at a corner in a small smirk. Things had been good, once.
Perhaps they could be again? That psychopath was gone to wherever he'd gone, and for a time Prox had heard that Chu had been instated as acting Commander....but very recently, the whispers had changed, and this was apparently not the case any longer. Work had kept him away, or he'd have been there sooner, wanted to have been there, but, alas, he'd been too late. Now, someone else had taken rank, someone else who he had never heard of...but, he supposed anyone was better than the self-serving prick who had held the position before.
After several long moments, those eyes lowered their dark stare, conceding to look upon the path before him. It wasn't far. After such a long time, he'd returned to this dark place. This dark place that he called home, once upon a time.
Home again. The word sounded nearly unfamiliar to him, yet he hoped he could learn of it again.
He took those steps along that path, striding to the door. Nevermore was here, and the old Raven had come home.
But would home mean the same...as it had before?
Quoth the Raven....Never More.
