Once, the Umbrella Academy was unstoppable. Under the tutelage of their guardian and mentor, Dr. Reginald Hargreeves, its members spent their childhoods fighting evil and honing their extraordinary gifts.
Until something went terribly wrong.
Now, ni...
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DEATH OF THE MONOCLE ! ❛Moments ago, police reported the death of...❜
"VANYA HARGREEVES."
In the hushed ambiance of the Icarus Theatre, the only sound that could be heard was the soft hum of the lighting, creating an atmosphere of serene anticipation. The judges, their faces etched with stoic concentration, eagerly awaited the next contestant who would ascend the stage to vie for the coveted first chair.
As Viktor Hargreeves stepped into the spotlight, a long-held dream of his, he rushed with a mix of excitement and trepidation towards the solitary chair that awaited him. Carefully setting down his violin case, he gently loosened the latches and extracted his prized instrument and sheet music. With poised grace, he positioned himself, delicately placing his violin beneath his chin on his collarbone, eagerly awaiting his cue to begin. The spotlight, resembling the pale moonlight, enveloped him, casting him into a mystical glow.
As the head judge readied his pen and poised his grading paper, Viktor drew his bow across the strings, conjuring the light and melancholic notes of his selected piece from Phantom of the Opera. With closed eyes, he surrendered to the ecstasy of the music, feeling the vibrations coursing through his being with every note. The sound of his violin sliced through the air like a knife, clean and sharp, leaving the judges spellbound.
~ ☂︎ ~
"𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄" LUTHER
With a deep, guttural groan, Luther awakens from his slumber, his alarm clock blaring its sharp, jarring tune. The three shrill beeps pierce the air, rousing the large , scruffy and lumbering man from his deep sleep, his arm flailing limply through the air until it flops on the snooze button. The digital clock mercilessly displays the time as 23:28.
Rising from his bed with another groan, his large and muscular frame stretching to its full height. The knobby mattress beneath him never quite providing the support he needed, but he shrugged off the discomfort with a resigned acceptance.
Squeezing his formidable build through the cramped doorframe, Luther checks on the systems before entering the living space that has been his home ever since four years ago. four long years. His eyes land on the small plant sitting on the counter, a glimmer of tenderness in his otherwise rugged countenance. His calloused hand reaches out to stroke its green stems, offering the gentle assistance that only he can provide. With a meticulous care that belies his imposing presence, he proceeds to water the plant, nurturing it with a silent devotion.
