[closed] stay green a little while

[ordinar]

Who: Wilhelm & miscellaneous
When: throughout July and August
Where: Horizon, Thorne
What: Catchall for sad boy summer
Warnings: will be updated as needed


Closed starters to follow. Maybe some open ones if I'm feeling saucy. :)

Comments

cw: violence, murder stuff

[ushiri]

Wilhelm seems to be without other visible signs that might alarm him, no broken and bruised knuckles, black eyes or shorn hair, so he lets the subject drop for now.

"Something like that," he admits, staring at some point over Wilhelm's shoulder. "It all happened very quickly, I mostly remember wanting to run away."

Edited and sanitized for the boy's sake. There's no conflicting information to this memory, unlike so many others. He remembers the cold barrel of the rifle pressed to the back of his head and his sister's screams, the husk that was their mother still smoldering on the pyre. In the present, the scent of burning flesh seems to waft through the air —

He eyes Wilhelm for a second as he banishes the memory, frowning to himself.

"It's difficult to travel that way around the castle, the mages here have the whole place covered in wards." He waves his hand in the direction of the stone walls. It is extremely annoying. But then his frown shifts into a grin as he admits aloud, "I'm not used to having to open so many doors the normal way."

r u ok kyle

[ordinar]

There's something in the way the man's expression shifts, fading to somewhere far away, that makes worry slither in Wilhelm's gut. He can't help but wonder what else lurks in those memories. It might be better not to know, and it's definitely none of his business.

Though the whole concept of teleporting oneself from room to room is novel, he supposes it's much like his own dependence on technology. There's still a spark of annoyance every time he has to light a candle instead of flipping a switch. There's still a reflex to reach for his phone when he can't sleep in the middle of the night.

"There's a lot to get used to here." A tone of commiseration. "Stuff like that isn't even possible where I'm from."

Stuff, in this case, meaning traveling through tears in space and setting fires with only one's hands and thoughts for flint.

yUP

[ushiri]

He nods.

"It's really not all that common where I've come from either."

Not to the extent that the Thorneans have outfitted their castle. A regular person in Basawar could go their entire lives without having to worry about encountering a boy that can control flames, or one of the ushiri'im. They'd count themselves lucky for it too.

He inclines his head toward Wilhelm's pocketed hands, curious.

"What else have you learned so far?"

hm...x to doubt

[ordinar]

He's always trying to piece together what kind of world the other Summoned come from, a game that runs quietly in the back of his thoughts. Except calling it a game implies that it's for fun, when it's more like a tool with which he measures himself against others, and invariably finds himself falling short. Compulsion might be more accurate. What he knows so far about this guy's world: it's the kind of place that has fire extinguishers, which speaks to a certain level of technology, and magic too, but only in the hands of a special few.

"I can transfer the fire to something else and still control it. I can make it spread faster, or not at all."

A pause, in which his eyes roll upward as if scouring his brain for any detail he might have missed. Scratching his head, he concludes, "That's all, so far."

[ushiri]

Barring the last five minutes, he's been very careful about what he shares with most of the Summoned. He has memories of living in Nayeshi for ten years. Pretending to be from there without explicitly saying so isn't all that hard when there are so many others. Better to blend in whenever he can than to stand out right now. Especially with men like Lucifer in their midst, unpredictable and potentially dangerous when given the wrong information.

It also means he doesn't feel as guilty as he would outright lying to people like Jack and Wilhelm.

That's all, the young man says. It'd be enough to send him to the Holy Road in Basawar.

He frowns, a deep crease at his brow.

"Then it's good that you've already learned to control it." There, at least, is faint approval coloring the concern in his expression and tone. "I should let you get back to it."

He flicks his wrist, and with a motion comes another burst of cold air as a tear appears out of nothing.

(he's already been made, so he might as well show off a bit)

"I'm Kyle, by the way. I'm staying in the North Wing for now."

So that the young man can seek him out, if he needs something. Or finds himself in any trouble.

[ordinar]

Despite his own incipient magic, Wilhelm still manages to be dumbfounded by the sight of the air tearing open. It instills him with the sense of something coming apart at the seams. More questions bubble up, but even if Kyle weren't signaling his intentions to leave, he seems a guarded person who might not want to share so many of his secrets.

"Wilhelm," he returns. "I'm staying there too, so I guess I'll see you around."

Staying, not living, because the permanence of the latter is too overwhelming to consider.

He watches Kyle disappear into the rip he's created, as abruptly as he arrived. Alone again, taking a deep breath, Wilhelm settles back into his practice.