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.
LMFAO AW THEY MOVE
–albeit temporarily. She had encountered the tail end of that glow, where Martin returned to his physical body. The gold and light enveloped, blended, then dissipated under his skin, leaving behind the healthy and whole boy he was contracted to be. His breath drew out longer, accepting his consciousness once more, and sat up straighter. A single shudder against the chill through his thin clothes passed, and he opened his eyes to look about.
It didn't take very long for him to see her there, not so far away, and not particularly a common sight. The strange memory of seeing her in...in another's memory had yet to wholly take shape, and so he was left with one of those nagging, troubling feelings of missing something. But perhaps it was just the surprise of being seen for what he was by someone other than his contract? That, too...
He held the next breath, uncertain of how to react.
shhhhhh YOU'RE UNVEILING MY DARK SECRETS TO LOOKING REMOTELY GOOD AT ART
She suddenly had the strong feeling that she had seen something outside of the domain intended for her ocular globes - which she'd been feeling almost as strongly had been narrowing even as the dewy dawn of her second life had increased the clarity with which she observed it. So he was a being of the light in some way. Like how she was a daughter of the day. But... somehow she doubted that this stranger would exactly jump at the self-descriptor of "a creature of sin", unlike her. The sunlight meant something different entirely on Earth, maybe more similar to what it had on Prospit. But... that had been so long ago. What was the date of its destruction now - eleven months? She still described herself as "6" just as she would have before, but now she was certainly 14 years old, though to her that inferior measurement of relative age didn't matter anymore. Not since she'd been turned, and to be honest for a while before she had taken to wearing real makeup on both her lips and eyes. Back in her own universe, she had taken the presence of colors for granted. Not anymore. Not in her old white hell and not in her current gray purgatory.
Well, she couldn't let this meeting go by uncommemorated, and so it was that she ended up awkwardly raising her dextral extremity in the greeting gesture known universally (at least in her experience), as a "wave".
"Hi there, uh... I'm Kanaya Maryam; it's nice to meet you." There. Dialoglog accomplished.
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He smiled.
"Hello, Kanaya Maryam," he replied. "I'm Martin."
He almost left it at that, with the pause carrying on, but he had his own sense of awkwardness pushing him along. Silence wasn't very friendly.
"Are you a troll, too?"
This tag isn't drawn sorry
"And - you're from Earth, am I right, Martin." It was a likely answer, though one she always enjoyed seeing subverted.
ain't no thang jus paintin w/words here
"I'm from Olvoski." One eye squinted as he considered it. "It...I don't think it's much of an Earth like this. But there are human people there."
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Kanaya took a more comfortable position, leaning with one shoulder against a gray wall and about halving the distance between herself and Martin in the process. "Though, my impression is that relatively few Earths are like this."
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He was hardly aware of rambling, just following a small strain of thought caught before floating away. It was too distant to follow through on, though, which tapered his chatter and left him watching Kanaya, unknowingly blank of readable expression.
"Have you seen many?" he prompted, eyebrows lifting. "Earths. Other places..."
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"It sounds like you've been through a lot of...big things," Martin said, a breathy laugh in his last words as he shook his head, unable to find the right words to say. "Or maybe not so big...but it seems big to me. I can't say I've ever made a whole world before."
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"You should give more credit to the game than its players, though. Really SGRUB played us.
"It's not even that big a deal anymore. I know for certain we didn't create this particular Earth anyway..."
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It made for quite an envisioned picture.
"Would you be able to tell me about it anyway?" he asked, looking back at Kanaya after that brief drift. "If you want to, that is. If there's somewhere you have to go, I don't mind at all."
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"This is going to be a long story. If you really want me to tell it, I should probably sit down."
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Martin himself fidgeted, scooting near the edge of the large hunk of rubble. He swiped his hand across the surface, turning it over to see the thick, chalky coating coloring his palm and fingers. He looked up at Kanaya.
"It's a...well, it's dirty." He turned his hand for her to see. "If you want to find a better place to sit, we can go look?"
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Martin wasn't too sure about cleaner places, either. He began to look about, mouth tugging in a doubtful way. With everything splintered or outright obliterated by the bombing, he didn't know what was safe, let alone accessible.
Didn't hurt to look, did it?
"Want to have a look around?" he offered, standing up and dusting the seat of his pants off. "Maybe we'll find somewhere open. And you can tell me about the game while we look?"
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That said, she eased into the position of following him. As a passive class hero (though she didn't actually know that terminology), the position of following was always easier for her psychologically. That was probably one of the only reasons she'd been willing to trust any humans at all after a certain level of experience in the first place.
"The first thing that you need to know about the game is that it's how our own homeworld's history ended. It was a complex feat of predestination. Time for one universe to end and the other to begin."
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Martin had no idea what he was walking into; he just knew he was picking a direction and actually walking it. Away from the more drastic heaps of damage in the area, toward the middle of the broken and empty street...He remembered faintly going that way before. But what it led to was far from his mind.
He listened, listened as best as he could. Not everything would make sense to him, a boy from such a closed-minded world too little used to wilder and grander things...and in that way, it made her talk more like a fairy tale.
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