Martin Darkov - 8th generation (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theguideless) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-10-05 07:29 pm
theguideless) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-10-05 07:29 pm
new old pavements [open]
Date & Time: 10/5 and beyond if need be
Location: Not far from the Hold
Characters: Martin, you
Summary: Looks like a lot of things need rebuilding or fresh construction (be it in prose or brackets or drawthings)
Warnings: I...I don't have to warn about 8 billion apologies anymore.............HOW...
With bare feet and over-sized clothes, Martin looked more like a refugee than a familiar transport. But then, things weren't particularly familiar anymore. In that, it was exciting...and frightening. Already the expectations he had were greatly sobered through mere days alive in Exsilium. Perhaps the timing of his rebirth was off. Things had tapered to a tense silence above ground, though by the itching feeling in his throat and lungs, things weren't utterly clean of the attacks. Rubble and broken places – even the places where transports called their tentative homes...It wasn't as disturbing to him as it perhaps ought to have been. But he had little to compare it to; life as a Darkov was sheltered and sparse, with community life restricted to family and a rigorous cause.
All in the past. Exsilium was now, for good or ill.
He hugged his arms and settled them on his knees, seated on..a piece of wall? Something that wasn't designed to be a seat, whatever it was. Probably a piece of wall. His mind wasn't on it.
Where to start?
...Start? Hadn't things already begun? Strange, the way his mind started tapering away from the things he knew were right. The human condition was at play, dropping heavy drapes over his clarity. Heavy was the best word for it all – uncertainty, grief, excitement, guilt, relief...it wasn't the miserable trudge of days long gone. This was a steady and certain hope, not the desperate clawing and groping of a boy ignorant of the world and himself. Even with fear crowding in, the flicker of truth within remained.
It was going to be alright. Even through the worst of things...
His body shuddered against both the chill in the air and the unknowns.
Location: Not far from the Hold
Characters: Martin, you
Summary: Looks like a lot of things need rebuilding or fresh construction (be it in prose or brackets or drawthings)
Warnings: I...I don't have to warn about 8 billion apologies anymore.............HOW...
With bare feet and over-sized clothes, Martin looked more like a refugee than a familiar transport. But then, things weren't particularly familiar anymore. In that, it was exciting...and frightening. Already the expectations he had were greatly sobered through mere days alive in Exsilium. Perhaps the timing of his rebirth was off. Things had tapered to a tense silence above ground, though by the itching feeling in his throat and lungs, things weren't utterly clean of the attacks. Rubble and broken places – even the places where transports called their tentative homes...It wasn't as disturbing to him as it perhaps ought to have been. But he had little to compare it to; life as a Darkov was sheltered and sparse, with community life restricted to family and a rigorous cause.
All in the past. Exsilium was now, for good or ill.
He hugged his arms and settled them on his knees, seated on..a piece of wall? Something that wasn't designed to be a seat, whatever it was. Probably a piece of wall. His mind wasn't on it.
Where to start?
...Start? Hadn't things already begun? Strange, the way his mind started tapering away from the things he knew were right. The human condition was at play, dropping heavy drapes over his clarity. Heavy was the best word for it all – uncertainty, grief, excitement, guilt, relief...it wasn't the miserable trudge of days long gone. This was a steady and certain hope, not the desperate clawing and groping of a boy ignorant of the world and himself. Even with fear crowding in, the flicker of truth within remained.
It was going to be alright. Even through the worst of things...
His body shuddered against both the chill in the air and the unknowns.
no subject
And anyway, that was a pretty fair conclusion, Martin thought. He had a lot to say to expand on it, but what Eridan had said before that was still tugging at him.
"Elsehwere physically and mentally?" As opposed to just being...elsewhere in general?
no subject
And then he...stares, more obvious this time he's examining Martin for the changes in his demeanor, eyebrow raised curiously.
"So what happened to you anyway. You're actin' weird for the Mar I'm used to bein' around. I mean, you ain't ewen apologized once."
Was that last part a joke? Hard to tell with Eridan, really.
no subject
Ain't ewen apologized once. Martin let out a single, breathy laugh at that. He apologized so much back then that it just became a reflex, not a sentiment. For all the things he really had to apologize for...it made simply saying so not enough in his eyes.
"It really was a mess," he said, folding his hands and letting them dangle just off his knees while he sat, hunched forward. "It'd be hard to explain all of it, since so much of it has to do with things that never happened here..." Much of it simply from what he'd been made from the start, contrasted to what he really was.
His mouth tugged up as he tried to think of how to make it make a bit of sense. What was normal for him wasn't normal for humans – it probably went without saying it wasn't normal for trolls, right?
Or not. How could he know?
"I guess..." He looked up. "It's easiest to say...there's the Darkov-me that I was...and the me I am now. They're different. I'm different, even though I'm still Martin. Even this body is different."
no subject
Well, whatever. That's all he really needed to know; clarification that something was different and he wasn't just imagining things. He almost considers taking a seat nearby on another ruined pile of rubble close to where Martin himself is sitting, but...no. It might mess up the cape, he figures, deciding to remain standing.
"So in a good way or just shittier."
no subject
"A very good way," he affirmed, nodding. "I'm not afraid of everything anymore. And I won't ever wind up like that again." And that was good for everyone else, as well.
no subject
Always the most sympathetic with these things, this one. He's just glad Martin isn't making a huge deal out of it like everyone else he knows who died
even himself."So what now, you just...gonna fight like the rest of us hawe been."
no subject
Martin's shoulders finally dropped, exhaling heavily. He glanced away and down, trying to catch a string of thought just barely in-mind. A small smile split on his face again as he glanced back up, meek – but unafraid.
"I don't think I'll be doing much fighting if it can be helped. I can't conjure like I used to anymore, but...I'm not without some power." He shrugged once more. "It's not something I want to have to use, though. I think there's enough big powers shaking the world up, don't you?"