Fics like don't give it a hand, offer it a soul

It was then that two portraits caught his eye. Surrounded by the cheery pictures that chronicled Hawke’s life, many taken in candid moments, the portraits could not have stuck out more. They were of two men, both dark-haired and eerily pale, but one had Hawke’s blue eyes and the other one had amber eyes. “Brandon and Walter Hawke,” Nero said, more to himself. “Who now,” said Dante. “The twins,” Nero said, pointing to the two portraits. The men looked incredibly similar to each other: they had the same high cheekbones, the same hawk-like nose, even the same hairline, but one twin had his hair down past his shoulders and the other had hidden it under a top hat. If Nero had to guess, he’d say the portraits had been done around the 1800s, thereabouts, but hell if he could pin down the decade. “What, twins owned this place?” Dante said. Nero shook his head. “Not at the same time,” he said. “From what Hawke said, Brandon was the first. When he died, Walter inherited the place.” He looked around the corridor, sniffed, and said, “Guess he didn’t do much with it.”

Fics like don't give it a hand, offer it a soul

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