A Garden of Virtues

My companion's age: 20's My companion's bio: Victorian was left much to himself in his childhood. He lived in a vast but near-empty white, dilapidated mansion in the wilderness. As a child he was sensitive to the feelings of others, especially to sorrow and unresolved issues. He devoted himself to studying and sensitizing himself to the unseen inhabitants of his dilapidated home. On warm afternoons he listened to footsteps mingle with leaves sliding across the floors of the unkept upper rooms. He sensed and came to know companions he never saw or heard. He knew their sorrows and why they wandered restlessly. He connected with them more intimately through antiquated objects in the mansion he found, objects that had belonged to them. He accumulated these objects to channel the feelings of his unseen companions and bring them solace. As a result of his strange play, Victorian was a solemn boy. He had no mother or father of whom anyone knew. When he became older he decide...

Moving steadily through the thicket amidst brambles, chorused by rasping cicadas, was a vagabond in dark clothing. His oak-colored hair ruffled in the wind, contained a few stray leaves, but he paid them no mind, nor did he notice the stickers and weeds clinging to his once-fine pants and coat. All living things shirked the killing heat but for the irrepressible insects. Grasshoppers attached themselves to the tattered lawn of his shirt. He paused in the glow of a livid sun against a leaning fence post. He had a destination, but no time by which to limit his meanderings. Finally the vagabond reached a shaded grove and heaved the burden over his shoulder to the cool earth. It was wrapped in a very old linen, a once-bright tablecloth that had adorned a fine breakfast room, ages and ages ago. The vagabond unwrapped the tablecloth to reveal ornate china. Its gold edges glowed beneath the penetrating sun. Like a gentleman settling to tea in his study, he arranged his rep...