Of Memories and Black Roses

(OOC-This scene has nothing to do with the actual story, and is just kinda here as flavor text, and cause Im bored....>___>)

Raven sat on stradled over a balcony, his back against the cold and stoney tower of the Rufus' castle. The air carried a bitter chill, yet Raven wore no shirt, his wings poking out from under his paled skin. Before him lie the capital city of Ragalia. Pristine snow had freshly blanketed the city in a sheet of white, the buildings and streets interwtining into a parodox of interlocked layers void of colors. The layers upon layers of snow seemed to bury all the dark and ugly truths of the world, leaving only a sanatized version what it really was.
When Raven had first arrived here, he found he had no deep love for the snow. But he began to realize, slowly, how much the snow was similar to the rain he loved so much. Both smothered him in a cold embrace, numbing him from the pain. Yet rain was hard, and rigid and plowed into his skin like needles. But the snow...the snow fell onto his body with the gentleness of a caring mother. It was soft and comforting, and yet...It was the reason Raven hated and dipised it. The snow made him feel comfortable and secure, he could forget of his troubles in thier chilly embrace. Each drop that fell onto his shoulders seemed to lift a portion of the immense wait he carried on them, and erased the gulit and shame that flooded his viens. All things he knew he did not deserve. What justice is it that a murderer should enjoy things such as the snow. The accusing sting of the rain conforted him. It reminded him always of why he was fighting, it reminded him of what he needed to do to attone,...No not to attone, one cannot attone for taking a life. It reminded him of his punishment for taking a life...from the person he had...from the person he did...love.
Raven reached into a pouch on his belt, securing a small item. Bringing it to his eye level, Raven opened his hand to reveal a ring. The ring was small, far to small for his finger. The hoop composed of interlocking threads of silver circling to the center of the ring and forming the ribs for the gem that adorned it. A deep crimson ruby, carved to resemble a rose. Raven stared at the ring intimately, course fingers running over the surface of the polished hoop of metal with the attention of an appraiser. He remembered her saying that the ruby reminded her of his similarly colored eyes. Waves of nasaue writhed through his body, as it always did when he was reminded of this particular scene.
How many lives had he taken? Looking back at all his battles he could only remember a handful, and none with the clarity of this one. He could never forget the feelings. Of rending through her supple flesh. Of her warmth fading from her body. Nor of the finality of ripping the blade from her abdomen seemed to create. He could never forget the blood. So much blood, too much blood. Her blood, her life, bleeding away. Blood he saw everytime he looked at the crimson rose-ruby. He could never forget her...
Raven raised his arm as if to toss the ring. To throw it and be free from it and be free from the remberings forever, and to let the cold arms of the snow carry him away to peace, and to slumber nad never think of her again...And yet, he could not. He could not forget. He would not forget. He would always remember...nothing would change that. So he lowered his hand to chest level, opening it to stare at the ring. To remeber everything in sickening detail. To remeber everything he had done. Her name came to his lips, yet he could not complete the sounds. Snow continued to fall from the heavens, covering Raven in its hated clutch, as he was finnaly able to speak the words...

"Im sorry....Monyca..." The snow began to fall looser, and more moist, until a torrent of freezing rain then fell from the sky, washing away the pristine cover of the city, revealing the brown and dirty city, the paths twisting and turning through the buildings once again becoming clear. And as the rain fell, Raven remebered.