Emet-Selch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unnecessaryflourishes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2021-09-24 12:12 am
unnecessaryflourishes) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-09-24 12:12 am
(no subject)
WHO: Emet-Selch and open!
WHAT: Local Ascian hangs around and only sometimes looks out of place
WHERE: First settlement of Solvunn/Horizon
WHEN: Any time after about the middle of September.
[Solvunn]
[For a man who doesn't necessarily look like he might be at home in a place that is so focused on farming, Emet-Selch settles into Solvunn... reasonably well. True, he might not spend any significant amount of time doing anything that could be considered physical labor, but he does volunteer his time at the library - and if nothing else, he himself is a veritable font of knowledge... if not necessarily any that would be particularly specific to this world. But to those who either know how to tease the information out of him or simply ask the right questions at the right time, he's more than willing to offer whatever seems to be relevant.
When he's not spending time at the library, he can also be found at the house he has been residing in - one that had formerly lain empty, and in slight disrepair, though his magic has been making short work of the most pressing fixes - or making his way from one part of the city to the other. Even he has need to visit the shops after all, to say nothing of his endless nosiness besides.
Or perhaps he's stepping out of a swirling portal of darkness nearby, having chosen to take a more expedient route from point a to point b than going by foot.]
[Horizon]
[There's only one thing his domain could be. Only one thing it would ever have been. A city; all gleaming spires and delicate curves. An odd, almost otherworldly city; brass and crystal structures standing side by side with perfectly ordinary grass and trees.
It's only up close that the scale of the city is apparent. Doors and benches are built at sizes that suggest that the inhabitants of this place stand easily twice the height of the average person if not more, and even the counters in some of the more bureaucratic-looking buildings stand easily above the head of most visitors.
It does not, however, stand empty. Even in moments when Emet-Selch himself does not appear to be in residence, cloaked figures drift through the city. Echoes, maybe, or faded recollections; silent unless spoken to and even then not all seem to be coherent enough to hear comments addressed to them though fragments of long-forgotten conversations may drift into reality long enough to be heard.
As for Emet-Selch? He too is different, here. Tall enough to be of a height with the echoes of the people they once were, all the trappings of his mortal body left behind for one with long pale hair instead - the man he had been once, so many millennia ago.]
WHAT: Local Ascian hangs around and only sometimes looks out of place
WHERE: First settlement of Solvunn/Horizon
WHEN: Any time after about the middle of September.
[Solvunn]
[For a man who doesn't necessarily look like he might be at home in a place that is so focused on farming, Emet-Selch settles into Solvunn... reasonably well. True, he might not spend any significant amount of time doing anything that could be considered physical labor, but he does volunteer his time at the library - and if nothing else, he himself is a veritable font of knowledge... if not necessarily any that would be particularly specific to this world. But to those who either know how to tease the information out of him or simply ask the right questions at the right time, he's more than willing to offer whatever seems to be relevant.
When he's not spending time at the library, he can also be found at the house he has been residing in - one that had formerly lain empty, and in slight disrepair, though his magic has been making short work of the most pressing fixes - or making his way from one part of the city to the other. Even he has need to visit the shops after all, to say nothing of his endless nosiness besides.
Or perhaps he's stepping out of a swirling portal of darkness nearby, having chosen to take a more expedient route from point a to point b than going by foot.]
[Horizon]
[There's only one thing his domain could be. Only one thing it would ever have been. A city; all gleaming spires and delicate curves. An odd, almost otherworldly city; brass and crystal structures standing side by side with perfectly ordinary grass and trees.
It's only up close that the scale of the city is apparent. Doors and benches are built at sizes that suggest that the inhabitants of this place stand easily twice the height of the average person if not more, and even the counters in some of the more bureaucratic-looking buildings stand easily above the head of most visitors.
It does not, however, stand empty. Even in moments when Emet-Selch himself does not appear to be in residence, cloaked figures drift through the city. Echoes, maybe, or faded recollections; silent unless spoken to and even then not all seem to be coherent enough to hear comments addressed to them though fragments of long-forgotten conversations may drift into reality long enough to be heard.
As for Emet-Selch? He too is different, here. Tall enough to be of a height with the echoes of the people they once were, all the trappings of his mortal body left behind for one with long pale hair instead - the man he had been once, so many millennia ago.]
Solvunn; Library
He pulls a chair out, letting the legs drag noisy along the floor, before plopping down on it. Not sitting on it but turning it around so he can sit on it backwards with his legs spread out in front of him. Crossing his arms, he rests them on the top of his chair with his chin dropping down on top of them. ]
I think we might be the oldest people here. You're certainly much fucking older than me, though. [ He lifts his shoes off the ground, lightly beating the heels of them on the floor. ] How's that treating you, chief?
no subject
What, being as old as I am?
[There's the suggestion of a shrug in his voice, as he answers. He hasn't ever had the option to not be - though he might not look anywhere his age it's not like he's been able to escape the fact that time keeps marching on. And while he is capable of avoiding its effects, that doesn't mean he doesn't feel the weight of each and every century, when he allows himself a moment to dwell on such things.]
no subject
[ His chin gives a quick nod even as he acknowledges the shrug in the man's words. He kicks his feet a few times, dragging his heels against the floor yet again -- and nearly inadvertently pulling his foot free from his boot. ]
You actually feel like someone who has seen a few centuries. I've just experienced a few decades come and go.
[ Which isn't saying anything, really. It's just been same shit, new day -- and he's loved it! Murdering folk almost 24/7, 360 days has been a real gas. It makes the years just fly by like someone's head being ripped off their body. ]
Have you noticed? Time repeats itself? Once things start getting started and settled, people end up doing the same shit as they did before? Or, is your world better and learned from their mistakes?
no subject
[And they rarely do, in his experience. All merely champions to Hydaelyn's will, sworn to defeat the darkness at all costs and never stopping to think about if they should, or what the cost of their success might be. ...Which has been useful on more than one occasion, for all that Emet doesn't see any sort of need to actually address that fact.]
Though perhaps some few have learned, for all it has rarely come to much.
no subject
[ It warms his cold dead heart to hear that every world pretty much is the same horseshit painted different. Link has his insane goddess that no one seems to recognize as psychopathic. Emet has century-long experience of watching people attempt to destroy themselves with heroes and righteousness. ]
It means I can happily share my ideals with you! [ He rocks backwards on his chair as he laughs up a storm. His laughter abruptly cuts off, but his smile remains wide and pleased. ] Because even this world... even this world has the same nonsense that we've been seeing for years and years.
I've decided... much like I decided back home... I want to destroy this world. I'm going to destroy this world with my own two hands. [ Nero lifts his hands up to look at them, fondly. ]
I'm going to break the cycle that we've been living in. I'm going to show everyone how insane they all have been repeating their mistakes through generations. It's all pointless... everything that anyone's done is pointless. They all want to dance at the edge of the knife and bring the world close to ending, but back off at the end when they realize they've gone too far...
[ He gestures with his hands, using the edge of the chair as the knife that he's talking about, before having his fingers dance backwards. ]
But they never learn. So... I'm going to knock us all off that knife and have us go plummeting to our deaths with this world's destruction.
[ How? He isn't sure. But hey, he's happy to finally have his big, evil speech. Only one other person's heard his rant -- and he misses telling his best friend about how much he wants to destroy the world while his friend convinces him to "save" it. ]
no subject
He comes up after twilight, always curious to see what magic Emet has done today.
no subject
Today, Emet is working on replacing the windows, a carefully measured pane of glass hovering in the space above his hands as he looks it over for any cracks or flaws that might otherwise be invisible to the naked eye. The sort of once-over a skilled craftsman might give his work before deciding that it is, perhaps, worthy of use - and if there's anything that Some might have picked up over the last few days of Emet's work on the house it is that he is very much that. And one who seems to be passingly familiar with architectural principles in general, given that his attention had gone first to the actual structural components of the house before anything that might have been more visible.
Still, the pane of glass does seem to (finally) meet with his approval and - after a brief pause - there's a snap of his fingers... and the old window is simply *gone*; replaced by the one Emet had been holding.
no subject
Though Martin is probably keeping much more erratic hours than him: like clockwork he's there every morning, wrangling a small army of children with the help of another slightly older woman (with the who rotating almost every day) and gone again until lunch time, after which he'll return and do nothing but read and take notes for the next multiple hours. It's a very basic, very unchanging routine, but the man himself never seems happier than when he's stretching out with a book and some paper and a pencil at one of the few tables.
no subject
Still, he waits until Martin has settled in with his books and his notes one day before making his way over.
"Finding anything of interest? Or is this simply an attempt to cross-reference materials?"
no subject
"U-um--" there was a question there, focus-- "I'm. Y-yes, actually, uh. I've been-- I-I've been looking through the, uh, local mythology?" He gives an awkward grin, settling back into his chair. "It's been very informative, I-I'm wondering if it can't help with learning some of the local magic, maybe."
no subject
"It could, certainly. In the world I come from, studying the source of any given power - and how it has typically been used - can often lead to new insights into how it might better be harnessed."
Figuring out which details have some manner of basis in truth and which are merely embellishments might be somewhat more difficult, but better to gather what information there might be first and then work on deciding which might or might not be relevant.