( open log ) august catch-all

[ushiri]

Who: "Kyle" + anyone!
What: Just a newly Summoned tries to get his bearings. Checking out the layout of the castle, wandering around Horizon. All starters are open unless otherwise marked!
When: The beginning-middle of August for now
Where: Castle Thorne, Horizon
Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Will update if needed!
Misc: Check out his opt-out for general content warnings about this character. Starters are brackets but I will match prose!



NORTH WING: THE STUDY HALL AND GRAND LIBRARY

[ He's beginning to get used to the freedom with which these people use witchcraft— magic. In the study hall he observes the students and masters work from a safe distance, allowing them to assume whatever they wish of his curiosity from his plain tunic marked with the symbol of The Hanged Man and genuinely surprised expressions whenever they manage some particularly flashy bit of spellwork. The lights and flashes of color have a beauty to them, the movements of objects in thin air wonderous and kind of comical at times— when an apprentice creates a fake doorway he can't help remembering a colorful cartoon about a coyote and a speedy bird playing on an old, dusty television screen.

He unconsciously catalogues the practical motions of their magic— out of curiosity, and, perhaps unconsciously at first, out of necessary, life-preserving habit. He might one day need to quickly know the most efficient way to stop one of these mages from using their power.

It's never a thought he relishes, especially when he watches some of the younger ones, their expressions filled with awe at their teachers.

When he leaves, he does so quietly.

In the grand library he's overwhelmed for a minute. Neither in Nayeshi or Rathal'pesha has he seen a library of this grandeur, though there must have been something like it in the Black Tower before it fell...

He pulls out some tomes at random, finding a table to sit at where his back may face a wall. Despite his conversations with Jack he's actually not much of a reader. His attention wanders too easily when he's forced to sit still like this, a part of his awareness always on his surroundings when he's in such an open place.

There are histories of the kingdom that he skims, until he finds that he can't read a section. The words are in another language, which only stands out because so far he's been able to read just about everything as if it were in English or Payshmura script. ]

Can you read this? [ He'll ask with an raised eyebrow to whoever happens to be sitting near him. He holds up the passage, unbeknownst to him written in Ancient Thornean on the applications of magic in the past, nothing scandalous. ]

EAST, SOUTH AND WEST WINGS: LOOKING FOR BONES

[ He carefully maps what little he can of the east wing. When the guards ward him off he feigns being the bumbling outsider, which isn't so far from the truth, apologizing and turning around from the locked doors without argument. He's not used to being kept out of anywhere, but he doesn't have access to the Gray Space yet. He'll have to be patient.

He people watches in the south wing for a little while before moving on to the west wing. There he feels a little more comfortable, the cooks remind him of the women in the Lisam house. When they try to shoo him out he offers to carry some bags of flour from storage, listening to the back and forth of their comradery and, more importantly, scoping out where they toss their bones when they're done carving the meats. ]

HORIZON: THE TEMPLE

( description )

[ He'd come back to this place to conjure those promised magazines for Jack: it's only his second time entering the realm, the first with all of his memories intact.

Nothing of the Payshmura remains in Basawar, the Fai'daum and Jath'ibaye made sure of that. As lost as that realization had first made him feel, he couldn't blame them for what they did. And he had seen how life had continued for the people, no longer under the shadow of the Black Tower, no longer fearing that their daughters and wives might be accused of having witches' bones.

The Church had always feared the Rifter, and rightly so. But the people hadn't yet realized that they had never needed to.

It's strange to look at these two towering statues now, knowing who Jath'ibaye was and is. He tries to search out his features in their twin faces and they begin to take familiar form— which forces him to look away.

Once inside he sits on a thin rug in front of the iron tree, his leather duster folded on the floor next to him. His clothes are all black and form-fitting, his vest padded like body armor. Today is has white crystalline blossoms instead of its crystal fruit. There are echoes of the Payshmura in this place: the iron, the marble. But the air doesn't taste like burnt ozone. It's not thin and cold here. The tree looks ominous at first, but when he touches its iron bark is quickly warms from the heat of his palm. Above him the sky is a starry night, the darkest velvet of a Nayeshi sky and the pinpoint lights of stars burning brightly.

It's empty, but he doesn't feel alone here.

He can't remember the last time he felt this safe. ]

You can sit and pray, if you'd like. [ He'll say to anyone who enters through the open doors, still seated where he was at the base of the tree. There's a stone cup in his hand, the daru'sira curling with steam. More cups and glasses stand on a simple platter next to him, a simple iron teapot in front of them. He nods to them, then shrugs. ]

Or just relax with a drink.

[ As long as they don't plan on causing any disturbance.

Here, he doesn't mind visitors. There's a more sacred, hidden place behind the walls that he can go if he wanted to be alone to pray to his god. ]

Comments

[stations]

( Honestly? It is kind of nice to find someone else who's seen the same brand of crazy shit that Jack has. Most people he tells about it think he's nuts, or they don't really understand. They don't get why their skepticism, when combined with his memory issues, feels like a personal and super effective jab.

So he offers up a brief, small smile — perhaps the most sincere one he's given since he got here. )

Who would I tell? You're like the only person I talk to voluntarily.

( And it's not like he can update his blog. But seriously: )

Your secret's safe with me. And... for what it's worth, I don't care if you tell anybody about mine, because nobody cares and they won't believe you.

[ushiri]

[ He lets out a huff like a laugh at that first part, his expression softening a bit at the next thing Jack says: ]

I care. [ About this history he shared with him. About Jack. This meeting has been guided by Parfir's hand, he's only becoming more sure of it. He still worries that Jack is too cavalier about his abilities, and that that might bring him to the attention of someone who might seek to abuse that power... ]

Also... you weren't entirely wrong about having a teleporting ninja for a roommate. [ It'd be annoying to prove the 'teleporting' part in a moving carriage, so instead he holds his right hand out, his thumb and forefinger touching. As he pulls the two digits apart, an odd, rippling tear in reality forms in the space between them, a thin line that is the razor-like blade of the Unseen Edge. ]

[stations]

( Weirdly, hilariously, despite talking completely out of his ass and making things up, Jack is bizarrely right about the strangest things. Call it coincidence if you want, but way too many coincidences happen to him for them to really be coincidental.

For instance: his oblivious mouth being a little too prescient about his mysterious roommate.

Kyle casually rips time and space open. Jack stares.

Squints.

Waits.

When nothing else happens, he ventures, )

I think we might have two different definitions of 'teleport'. Or maybe 'ninja'. What- what is that?

[ushiri]

[ He gives a conceding nod, then continues: ]

The edge of something we call the Gray Space. It can be wielded like a blade's edge, or I can make it large enough that I can slip in and out of that space at will. [ He touches his fingers together again, banishing the Unseen Edge. ] Where I come from I can use it to travel almost anywhere I want. Here...

[ He frowns in annoyance, glancing out the window. ] ... there are incredibly strong wards around Castle Thorne that disrupt the currents of the Gray Space. I've tried to navigate around them to see what they might be hiding, but I couldn't get very far. [ Not without crushing himself, or ripping his body to shreds. Maybe another time. ]

They have the same barriers here in Nocwich. [ For whatever that information is worth. ] The worst of them were to the south, southwest.

[ He couldn't say why, though. ]

[stations]

( Gray Space. )

That sounds... really fucking cool.

( This coming from the perspective of a man who would one hundred percent read a book about something like that. Several books about it. An entire series, in fact. He'd pore over it in like a day and a half. Sure is a shame nothing like that exists. )

Wait.

( Reflection moment - his eyes go a little wide as the implication hits. )

I was right! Suck a DICK, Satan! HA! ( Oop, wait, reverse, quick backpedal- ) Not that you're my bodyguard, and still don't worry about me, but fuck that guy!

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil enjoys showing off more than he should, Dayyid never managed to stamp that out of him before he was released from his instructor's grip - so Jack's reaction is exactly the kind of mini ego boost he thrives on.

Of course, he's almost immediately rolling his eyes again, narrowing his gaze at Jack. ]

No offense, but sometimes you make it difficult not to worry about you.

[stations]

( There he sits after just confessing to his mild insanity, alluding to his mental disorders and his trauma, one four-fingered hand wrapped around a mug that doesn't exist anymore, prosthetic leg grinding into the carriage floor, all hundred and forty (on a good day) pounds of him looking sleep-deprived and oblivious when he says: )

What do you mean?