Ok, I haven't even seen all that much of Escaflowne. So hopefully nothing
clashes with the actual story. I don't know where exactly this fic is
going, but hopefully I know enough about the characters to actually add a
few more chapters. Well, have fun seeing into Dilando's childhood memories.
Dilandau awoke again with sweat covering him. "Damn that dream again!" he whispered, trying to catch is breath. He raised his hand to his cheek. He ran his finger down the scar, staring off into the darkness of his quarters upon the floating fortress. He reassured himself that he would have his revenge on all those who had committed crimes against him. "It reminds me of, something." He climbed out of bed and wrapped a cloak around himself (in the only shade he ever wore, dark). After lighting a candle, he opened his closet door and rummaged inside it for a while. Not knowing what he was looking for he started getting annoyed "There's got to be something in here somewhere!" Soon enough a nock came to the door. "Enter." He called. A female soldier stood at the door. Stiff straight and eyes directly forward, as always with a soldier. Dilandau turned and scowled "Well! What are you waiting for? What is it?" "Lord Dilandau" replied the woman sternly "Oh. um .what happened to your face?" "WHAT?" Dilandau cried. "Did you say something is wrong with my face?" He glanced into one of his many mirrors. Blood was dripping from his old wound. "AAAAAHHHHHHHHH! WELL DON'T JUST STAND THERE! GET ME A DOCTOR!" As he screamed fanatically, he grabbed a metal object and threw it at the inferior. When it crashed he realized it was his skull lamp. "Nooooo!" he cried. "THAT WAS MY FAVORATE DEATH ARTICLE!" Holding his bleeding face he ran to the remains of his precious. Screaming in a fit of rage, once again. Dilandau noticed something as he was kneeling near the chars of class, relishing in the idea of blaming the accident on a certain young soldier. Sticking out of the picture frame (of his portrait of himself). He ripped it out in haste and looked at it. It was a receipt. The business was a cleaning product store. Dilandau slowly crinkled the paper, and fell deep into thought. While he was doing this, the doctor and the woman soldier arrived. "GO AWAY I'M BUSY NOW!" he yelled before they were in the door. The woman left first, then the doctor, being old and particularly wise, exited the scene as fast as his old legs would carry him. After all, 6 years under Lord Dilandau's authority and you learn not to interrupt him, especially when he's thinking. At that time in his solitude, he displayed on of his most abominable talents. A smile crept onto his blood stained face. A low chuckle ringing through the stone walls. The sound then rapidly increased until the decibel level was too much for anyone who wasn't half-deaf. "NEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAH AAAAAAHAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAH! AHHAHAHA!" This continued for several moments until he suddenly ceased. He was looking straight forwards now with the receipt tightly crumbled in his fist. First his eyes were wide and motionless. Then with another small evil thought, he laughed again and alternated to his favorite squinty evil eyes (with of course the grin). What has caused such a display? He remembered. . . remembered his past. He was about 11 at the time. He snuck away from his training to buy soap. Yes, soap. He had asked the doctor why he had such bad rash on his face. Well, actually he threatened the doctor but it was all the same to him as long as he got a correct answer. The doctor replied, "That's not a rash Lord, they're breakouts. You're eleven and a half years old are you? A bit early Id say. It just means you're.. uh. um growing up." Dilandau touched the red bumps on his forehead. "Breakouts! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO YELL AT PEOPLE WHEN ALL THEY DO IS STARE AT THE RED TARGETS ON MY BEAUTIFUL FAAAAAAAAAACE!" Dilandau decided not to punish the doctor, after all the doctor did give him some help. "Please, Young Lord Dilandau, it can be fixed. Every. um. man er person goes through it. It's a good thing, really! You know washing your face with soap will help control them!" So Dilandau snuck from his training duties to buy some soap. Dilandau, standing in his dark chamber, remembering his past made him feel dizzy, not to mention the bleeding of his cheek. Dilandau sat down on his bed "Cheek, Cheek, Cheek" His memories came back. He remembered being eleven again! It was making him angry. He remembered some older Zyboc boys bugging him because he was smaller then they were. Dilandau grinned. He also remembered how they paid for their insults, two years from then. "What did they say again?" Dilandau asked himself. He was bound to come up with the answer. "Oh yes. something about puberty." Dilandau gave up his attempt to remember all of his embarrassing and violent pre-teen days. He went back to sleep.
Dilandau awoke again with sweat covering him. "Damn that dream again!" he whispered, trying to catch is breath. He raised his hand to his cheek. He ran his finger down the scar, staring off into the darkness of his quarters upon the floating fortress. He reassured himself that he would have his revenge on all those who had committed crimes against him. "It reminds me of, something." He climbed out of bed and wrapped a cloak around himself (in the only shade he ever wore, dark). After lighting a candle, he opened his closet door and rummaged inside it for a while. Not knowing what he was looking for he started getting annoyed "There's got to be something in here somewhere!" Soon enough a nock came to the door. "Enter." He called. A female soldier stood at the door. Stiff straight and eyes directly forward, as always with a soldier. Dilandau turned and scowled "Well! What are you waiting for? What is it?" "Lord Dilandau" replied the woman sternly "Oh. um .what happened to your face?" "WHAT?" Dilandau cried. "Did you say something is wrong with my face?" He glanced into one of his many mirrors. Blood was dripping from his old wound. "AAAAAHHHHHHHHH! WELL DON'T JUST STAND THERE! GET ME A DOCTOR!" As he screamed fanatically, he grabbed a metal object and threw it at the inferior. When it crashed he realized it was his skull lamp. "Nooooo!" he cried. "THAT WAS MY FAVORATE DEATH ARTICLE!" Holding his bleeding face he ran to the remains of his precious. Screaming in a fit of rage, once again. Dilandau noticed something as he was kneeling near the chars of class, relishing in the idea of blaming the accident on a certain young soldier. Sticking out of the picture frame (of his portrait of himself). He ripped it out in haste and looked at it. It was a receipt. The business was a cleaning product store. Dilandau slowly crinkled the paper, and fell deep into thought. While he was doing this, the doctor and the woman soldier arrived. "GO AWAY I'M BUSY NOW!" he yelled before they were in the door. The woman left first, then the doctor, being old and particularly wise, exited the scene as fast as his old legs would carry him. After all, 6 years under Lord Dilandau's authority and you learn not to interrupt him, especially when he's thinking. At that time in his solitude, he displayed on of his most abominable talents. A smile crept onto his blood stained face. A low chuckle ringing through the stone walls. The sound then rapidly increased until the decibel level was too much for anyone who wasn't half-deaf. "NEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAH AAAAAAHAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAH! AHHAHAHA!" This continued for several moments until he suddenly ceased. He was looking straight forwards now with the receipt tightly crumbled in his fist. First his eyes were wide and motionless. Then with another small evil thought, he laughed again and alternated to his favorite squinty evil eyes (with of course the grin). What has caused such a display? He remembered. . . remembered his past. He was about 11 at the time. He snuck away from his training to buy soap. Yes, soap. He had asked the doctor why he had such bad rash on his face. Well, actually he threatened the doctor but it was all the same to him as long as he got a correct answer. The doctor replied, "That's not a rash Lord, they're breakouts. You're eleven and a half years old are you? A bit early Id say. It just means you're.. uh. um growing up." Dilandau touched the red bumps on his forehead. "Breakouts! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO YELL AT PEOPLE WHEN ALL THEY DO IS STARE AT THE RED TARGETS ON MY BEAUTIFUL FAAAAAAAAAACE!" Dilandau decided not to punish the doctor, after all the doctor did give him some help. "Please, Young Lord Dilandau, it can be fixed. Every. um. man er person goes through it. It's a good thing, really! You know washing your face with soap will help control them!" So Dilandau snuck from his training duties to buy some soap. Dilandau, standing in his dark chamber, remembering his past made him feel dizzy, not to mention the bleeding of his cheek. Dilandau sat down on his bed "Cheek, Cheek, Cheek" His memories came back. He remembered being eleven again! It was making him angry. He remembered some older Zyboc boys bugging him because he was smaller then they were. Dilandau grinned. He also remembered how they paid for their insults, two years from then. "What did they say again?" Dilandau asked himself. He was bound to come up with the answer. "Oh yes. something about puberty." Dilandau gave up his attempt to remember all of his embarrassing and violent pre-teen days. He went back to sleep.