[ semi-open ] and sometimes we sing to the dawn

[accordance]

Who: Lord Light, a couple of people (closed threads in toplevels within), and you.
When: April 12-15, thereabouts
Where: Around Capablanca
What: A useless old man ponders the meaning of his existence. And also builds some things on the side.
Rating: PG+ for Adra's mouth

one;

[ Contrary to first impressions, there is indeed peace and quiet to be found in Capablanca. As one walks along the beaches further and away from the town center, the number of establishments dwindle one by one - until the last ice-cream parlour marks the end of built shoreline. The stretch of untouched sand may be quite small compared to the rest of the beach, but it's still sizeable. Sizeable enough to provide a place of relative silence for Heroes to meditate properly.

It is here, upon the sand, that he draws. Detailed, complex images are sketched into the beachside, a little away from the shoreline so that they would be untouched at low tide. It takes him hours to complete a single drawing, but he doesn't complain a single bit - merely one figure with white hair bent down close to the ground with a single branch in his hand.

At night, high tide washes them away, but he returns for at least an hour every day to add one or two. At other times he builds perfectly regular rings out of shells and other materials lying around, all without a single word. A few locals come to watch, but even then their curiosity wears out as he continues, focused on his task.

If anything, the art is pretty. But what could they mean? ]

two;

[ On an afternoon when the sun is not as harsh, he climbs Ventoso Hill alone. Once he's reached the top, he elects to stand and watch the scenery - he's so still that he might have been mistaken for a statue, if not for the fact that his hair moves and flutters in an opportune breeze.

After a while, he shifts his stance to one more regal, and he begins to sing with a voice much younger than his speaking intonation. When he finishes, there's the slightest hint of a smile on his expression - but it will fade away as soon as he is approached, returning to his normal calmness.

His voice resumes its usual pitch, too. ]

Can I help you with anything?

three;

[ In the mornings, he can be found near the piers - or more specifically, where the seabirds frequent. He might be seated on the jetty or walking along the beach with a small bag of breadcrumbs, and after a while seagulls will start to flock to his location. He feeds them with a rather distant expression (more distant than usual, that is), letting them land on his shoulders and arms.

However, if you express interest in what he's doing, he'll look up with a much more focused countenance. ]

Hello. Would you like to feed them as well?

wildcard;

[ hit me with anything and I'll roll with it! or if you'd like a specific starter, feel free to pm me or contact me at eonflamewing, we'll work something out! ]

Comments

[sunderings]

Who could ignore this world's wish to be saved?

[ A compulsion it could be called, his will to assist the people of Enprise. Sion Astal is a King comprised of his people's wishes—since boyhood, they had fallen upon his ears, pleas for peace, for a kingdom where all those within its borders could simply laugh and live, and by the revolution he had orchestrated (and by taking his Lord father's head), he had opened the doorway to such a place, and even now, realms away from his own world which needs to be saved, he finds himself unable to tolerate the war which stands to ravage Sansvoir: he cannot abide by the tragedy which looms now over two nations and over all those innocents who might be drawn into the conflict. If by his hand he is able to help even one person, by virtue and by nature, he will lend his aid. ]

The people here want only for peace, and in them I see my own countrymen and all living things. I have long since made the decision to protect them and to discern the truth of this war, and so...

[ His eyes flick up, meaning to catch Lord Light's, gold boring into grey for just a moment before a gentle smile crosses his face. ]

...perhaps we are comrades, united by this will.

[ And that is marginal relief. ]

To everyone that I can— [ He raises his arm in an elegant gesture, offering his hand to Lord Light. Whether or not it will be taken, though.... Who can say, aside from Lord Light himself? ] —I intend to reach out with compassion.

That is how I will guide.

[accordance]

[ Sion says 'this world's wish to be saved'. He doesn't believe that a world is capable of wanting to be saved. Only its people can wish for those things, and even so they are not the ones who can deliver it in its entirety. No way around but hard work and dedication.

But he isn't here to argue, so he says nothing of it and keeps silent. ]

So it is.

[ The hand is not taken, however it is out of a gesture of politeness. It does not feel appropriate to him. ]

I am observing. I wish to learn of the history of this world, and how it came to be. To learn of its full story, to see all cause and events play out - it is only then that we can understand this world, and what it truly needs. I have always been a watcher of fate, and here it will not change.

[ The two of them take different paths, but borne from the same desire. It shows how different their origins are. ]

[sunderings]

[ He feels as though much could be discussed between them, that there is something powerful in all that which they choose not to covey and in the disparity between the places they hail from. Menoris, his world, has always always been alive, long before humans had come to people it, and though he wholeheartedly believes there is a wish to be heard within Enprise itself, it is now time to readjust his vantage point and to realign himself.

To keep the hand which he'd raised—so it hadn't been taken for what it was—extended toward the sky, natural light filtering through the gaps in his fingers before...!

He rises in a precise economy of motion, finding his feet once again. ]

I believe that it will, for we ourselves have been changed by our summons here.

[ Watching, waiting...

There is a far cry more to being. ]

Instead of being so simply a watcher of fate, you may come to have a hand in breaking it, and I... [ It could almost be fond, the way in which he gazes upon the other man, eyes passionate and bright. ] ...am curious to see what sort of face you might wear, on that day.

[accordance]

[ Perhaps he understands the laws of time and causality more, but only because he was borne from it. A passive observer whose only actions were to ensure it flowed correctly. A maintainer, a protector, never a player upon the stage. ]

The world is defined by change. We must accept them, and change ourselves accordingly. Only then can we fulfil our duty.

[ As opposed to Sion's vivid gestures, he barely moves when they speak. ]

I, too, am curious as to what sort of circumstances will bring about such a change.