Characters involved are: Reoite (RED), Brin (ORANGE), Talon (GREEN), Sigurd (BLUE),
Logged by Brin

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Brin (OOC) will start.
The Path to Nisan's Cathedral
This is a long, elegant bridge, spanning the distance over the lake of Nisan between the town and its secluded, and glorious Cathedral. To the <north> stands this beautiful creation- so tall and broad that it dwarfs the town easily, ornate and nearly shimmering in the bright sunlight. To the <south> stands the modest town of Nisan.
Contents:
Sigurd


That half-seasoned hint of an idea, that comes to one lucidly in the early morning, that draws one somewhere, is sinking in, and ebbing somehow. Still, it has been committed to now. What draws the young Etone to this place? Is it the sheer beauty and impressiveness of that monolith this bridge spans toward, or something deeper? Such answers are not fortcoming, as Brin slowly makes hiw way down thei bridge toward the cathedral, eyes squinting through the haze of morning, and not knowing a care, for at least this short spell were feels he is not required on the sandcruiser.
Talon has arrived.
Talon (OOC) says, "Boo."
Brin (OOC) jumps.
Talon (OOC) says, "Gaze upon the glory that is me!...Or not."
Brin (OOC) covers his eyes.
Talon (OOC) kerthwaps Brin.
Brin (OOC) sniggers.
Talon (OOC) wonders whats going on here?
At the midpoint of the bridge sat a very quiet Sigurd, his legs dangling through the bars that held up the railing, a small pile of flat stones beside him, left alone. Skipping stones, he remembered what the late King once called them, a rarity in the desert, most rocks having long ago been blasted into sand, but a source of enjoyment at a random oasis. He sat there brooding, remembering the times where he had known peace so long ago, remembering days long past when he finally learned how to skip something as heavy as a rock over the delicate surface of water. A stone was held in Sigurd's hands even now, turned over and over, fingers brushing over the smooth, cool surface, one white-clad leg swinging slowly, the toes of his boots almost touching the water below, not noticing other travelers over the bridge... There had been many between the early pre-dawn hours and now, and they'd left him alone as he slowly worked away at the pile of stones beside him. A snap of his arm sent the one in his hand flying through the air even now, touching and bouncing off the surface of the water once... twice.. three, four... six times before it vanished under the rippling mirror. A sigh, and he rests his forehead against one of the poles, his good eye closing, wondering....
Sigurd (OOC) flails! "I haven't RPed in forever and apparently my brain wants to make up for it."
Sigurd (OOC) babbles endlessly in his poses... x_x
Brin (OOC) can deal with babble. *patpats Sigurd*.
Talon (OOC) can as well...mind if he joins in?
Sigurd (OOC) has no problem with that.
Brin (OOC) says, "Fire away. Enter ow if you wish."
Brin (OOC) says, "Now, even. *smacks forehead*."
Talon (OOC) would like to go last in order if he could.
Brin (OOC) asks, "Ok, myself and Sig will pose again before you enter, ok?"
Talon (OOC) nods.
Talon (OOC) excuses himself so he can move his gear.
Talon has left.
Talon has arrived.
Talon (OOC) returns.
Brin spots the first mate, in his quiet refective guise, and a slight slowing of step is apparent. To the cathedral, or to stay here awhile? o 0 ( ...The cathedral will be there later, I suppose... ), and Brin draws to a slow halt beside Sigurd, standing half-leaning over the reiling at the side of this rout of pilgrimage, as a solitary stone skips its way across the still blueness, and its memory recedes, as the ever increasing circles around it dissipate, and fade to smoothness again. His customary intense dislike of being rude kicking in, Brin clears his throat quietly.
Talon (OOC) asks, "Who is it Sig then me?"
Brin (OOC) nods.
The sound wasn't necessary of course. Sigurd already knew Brin was there, he recognised his empathic 'signature', if you will, the moment he stepped on the bridge. Very hard to surprise, wasn't he? ....And yet he didn't react to him. Indeed, he didn't even move, spare the necessary, unavoidable motion caused by the task of breathing. It was a task, after all, wasn't it? It made one wonder, what if one's diaphram just got tired of the constant work and desided to quit? Or one's heart? Oh, such morbid thoughts today, Sigurd, was that brat prince bothering you that much? It shouldn't. Should it? Who knew. For the life of him, he couldn't even explain his own actions and feelings to himself, much less to others. He supposed that was the cursed cause of this mess: his inability to express himself, even with his empathy. So pick up another rock and run almost caressing fingertips over the smooth, unyielding surface, feel the cold that it contains and threatens to numb your fingers, Sigurd. In some obscure part of his mind, he linked the stone to how it's like around Hyuga - No, Citan now - cold, and sharp enough to harm if you aproached him from the wrong angle. Enough with the stretched symbolism now, and he looks up at Brin finally, blinking that too-blue eye once in mild curiosity. The Etone was the only one who seemed to invite his company anymore. "Good morning."
Another person walks along this same road coming from the cathedrals direction. A sligth breeze and his walking causing his long white and blue jacket to somewhat flutter out behind him. He looks like someone, but the question is who exactly, perhaps somewhere under this outer shell there remain frgaments of whoever he was.
Talon (OOC) also babbles today...
Brin (OOC) grins. That makes 3 of us.
Smiles gently down at Sigurd now, and eyes the small pile of rocks. Taking one's anger out? It seems not like the Sigurd he knew, and yet did nt. And this was not the place, anyway. "Good morning...." is the acknowledgement, as Brin begins to sit, his continued standing over Sigurd making him uncomfortable, and he suspected the same of the first mate, "...mind if I join you?" is his accompaniment, almost an afterthought now, as he settles down beside Sigurd, his legs folding up under his robe, and the small squirming mass in his sleeve now emerging, bedraggled, into his lap, as Reoite enters the world of the awake.
Brin (OOC) has tu run away for about 5 minutes. Should be back for next pose. If not, avenge my death. Or sjip me, whichever.
Brin (OOC) is back.
Brin (OOC) pokes Sig gently.
Taking one's anger out? No, not today. Just quiet brooding and an activity that reminded Sigurd of peaceful times. Even sitting on this bridge helped lighten his mood... He'd always liked rivers and lakes, even if they couldn't compare his his beautiful desert. There was a serenity about water to him, how it brought forth life, and yet could destroy it just as easily. Sand wasn't like that, it was just there, more distructive than anything, despite its beauty... He was drawn to water in a way entirely different from his love of the desert, drawn by a respect for the element as foreign to him as the desert was familiar. Surface of the sand broken, and it would remain that way. Surface of the water broken, and it would smooth out without a trace of the offending mark. "I don't mind." Absently spoken, so preoccupied with his thoughts, with the fear that covered the city like a cold fog that only he could see, with memories and concerns... "Have you ever wondered about the water, Brin? How quiet it is, how beautiful and yet... how deadly, in the same breath. Breathe too much of it and you will drown, but breathe just a little, like vapor, and it can revitalize you. It's interesting to ponder..." Make sense, Sigurd, that train of thought derailed a long time ago and is careening down a cliff. Be polite, look at the Etone and offer a smile you can't feel. "Ah, sorry. I've not had much sleep and I fear I'm not making much sense."
Sigurd (OOC) babbles~!
Brin (OOC) says, "Oooh. You actually -were- taking that long. Apologies. :)"
Talon (OOC) falls over.
Sigurd (OOC) has been talking with Citan far too much, can you tell? x_x
Talon (OOC) says, "No, no, no...Yes."
Sigurd (OOC) should start leaving out contractions..... ^^
Brin (OOC) laughs. No, it's fine.
The person continues to approach the two not paying them any mind as he draws closer to the bridge, he seems distracted by something as he moves through the streets of the holy city.
Brin smiles. "Actually, you're making more sense than you give yourelf credit for...". He thinks for awhile, staring down to the water rippling lightly. It is always better, he found, to think aloud around Sigurd in particular, for some reaon. And so he does. "Pretty much everything has an element of both, when you think about it..." he looks out across the water, to the green beyond, to the sky. "The most beautiful of blooms hold the deadliest of poisons. And that which appeals most to the senses may ultimately destroy us. The same applies in reverse..." thinking again about what he is saying, he continues... "This...trouble..." he says, casting a wave over the town across the bridge, enxompassing the bridge, the town, and the fort beyond... "This crisis may not turn out as we would like it to...but have you seen the people in the town lately?..." He looks ahead, out to the vastness of the lake, the greenness, the world, and an old saying he heard once spring to his mind, he idly recites it... "We love the winter, it brings us closer together...". And hsi mind also it seems, drifts away like so much flotsam in the lake below.
Talon steps onto the bridge, his boots making a rythmic tap as he walks across moving by the two without so much a galnce.
Talon (OOC) apologizes for taking so long, got tied up.
Brin (OOC) says, "S'alright. It's Sig's turn anyway. :)"
Talon (OOC) d'ohs!
Talon (OOC) is confused don't mind him.
"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, na?" A mused rememberance of a less... poetic saying passes from Sigurd's lips as he tosses the flat rock from hand to hand, kicking one leg again, letting it swing lazily. Indeed, whatever didn't kill them. Sometimes he really wished it would, and make his isolation absolute. He'd been dwelling on that saying a lot recently, in fact, trying to convince himself to hang on and weather the storm. It couldn't last much longer could it? Surely he can endure, surely they could win out against all odds. Right? .... He wasn't so sure anymore, the steadfast 'anchor' of the rebel force weakening in its tenacity. Just a little. He wouldn't leave them to drift in the chaos that was this kind of life... Even if Bart thought he could handle it, he knew the boy was too young yet. And even he could see how much the division that had risen between himself and his charge was effecting the boy. Even Maison saw it. Guarentee Bart didn't see it, stupid little brat that he was at times. "I just wish it didn't take something as drastic as this to unite people..." He sighs, sparing a clance at the man who walked past, but he said not a word to him, instead falling silent. He dared not speak of the matters he wished to when others were around.
Sigurd (OOC) confised himself with that one, sorry for taking so long.
Sigurd (OOC) says, "confused, even."
Talon steps onto the bridge, his boots making a rythmic tapping as he walks along the bridge passing the two without a second glance, his sword swings slightly as he moves, and his jacket ruffles in the wind.
Brin is silent, for the longest of whiles, as he thinks about this, his hair falling down in front of his eyes, as he paeers over the railing at his reflection. "Yes. Sometimes drastic measures are reauired for unity...", he pauses, and is resigned, as the thought enters his head, and now must escape. This is, after all, Sigurd. "However, this is not really unity. It is merely one side strengthening its resolve against an enemy. It disturbs me sometimes...that perhaps the most drastic of measures would not after all be to try taking back what has been taken, but to offer the hand of friendship and mutual respect..." Brin reflects on what he has said, and thiks perhaps it might not please Sigurd to hear it. However, it is said.
Reoite suddenly spots a new plaything for himself. That flapping coat looks as if it might easily be subdued. For it is a mere nothing to his superior monstery. He leaps out of Brin's lap, and scapers across to latch himself onto the bypasser's coat. That'll learn it to flap like that. Have at you!
Talon (OOC) freaks out!
Reoite (OOC) sniggers, and meows conspiratorially.
A quick snap of Sigurd's arm sent the stone in hand skipping crazily across the water before it, too, vanishes under the surface. Mutual respect? Between whom. Bart wouldn't stand for any kind of respect toward Solarians, and he doubted Krelian would be so diplomatic. "Mutual respect is even harder to obtain than unity." How true... Mutual fear, perhaps, but not respect. And the rebels were hardly a force for Solaris to fear. "I will be satisfied with Nisan out of danger. That is my goal, however, I fear that may be an impossibility without much bloodshed. If possible at all." A sigh, heavy and burdened, his forehead resting on the bar again, his hands resting on his knees as his eye closes, brooding once again, listening to the crazy cat. "If only people would work -together- instead of pasting stereotypes on people because of their alliance. Damn it all." Frustrated, Sigurd? Tsk, swearing like that....
Sigurd (OOC) actually poses under the limit!
Brin (OOC) applauds!
Talon (OOC) exclaims, "Huzzah!"
Talon suddenlly stops hearing part of the conversation, and because he's somehow managed to get something stuck to his jacket, he reaches back and makes a grab for the cat to grab it be it's midsection.
Brin nods. "It's almost as if both sides have forgotten what they are fighting for. The merely squabble, and launch surprise attacks, and squabble again, until each attack is merely a retaliation for last week's ambush, and vice versa. All war is useless, but a war such as this is...meaningless...". He turns his head to look at Sigurd, as the bundle on his lap leaps off to an unspecified location behind him. "Drat, excuse me..."...
Reoite emits a low scream as he is grabbed from behind. From behind! The...the...COWARD!. He squirms, and attempts to turn around, fully intent on smiting this spineless attacker to within an inch of his life. He shall bat him out of the way with the back of his paw, into the lake below. He'll show him, he'll....Ow. That hurts.
Sigurd nods silently in agreement as he peers at the stranger and the cat, untangling himself and getting up to walk over and gently coax the cat from Talon's clothes, holding the cat gently. "Sorry about this, sir." With a glance to Brin, he offers a faintly amused look, so faint, but there. "I think you need to keep a better eye on your cat. He might have fallen into the lake." An apologetic half-bow to Talon as he takes the cat back to Brin, gently scritching around the animal's ears, unphased by teeth or claws, should he use them.
Talon looks rather...annoyed to say the least by all this, "Indeed..." wait a second! Was that voice familiar? Maybe...The person stands there a moment more resisting the urge to throw the animal a lake.
Brin stands, his entire being emitting the most sincere and embarassed of apologies. "I...I really must apologise, sir, he just slipped away for a second...". He raises his hands, as if to offer some conciliatory gesture, and Reoite almost immedietely scrabbles clear of Sigurd, and takes refuge inside Brin's sleeve again, his pride wounded beyond repair, at least for now.
Reoite (OOC) catches the lake.
Talon (OOC) into the lake...
Reoite is on the point of backpawing hsi assailant into the lake, when he is pulled back, by his retrieval force, who were just on time, before there was any bloodshed, he allows himself to be carried across to Brin, his associate, and bases station, and now sits curled in the sleeve, planning his next attack sortie.
Sigurd (OOC) says, "Ah... skip me, I gotta BRB.... >.<"
Brin (OOC) nods.
Brin (OOC) thinks it'd be funny if Talon eventually did get backahnded into a mass of water.:)
Talon (OOC) has on the Pub channel.
Brin (OOC) means IC.
Brin (OOC) says, "Hm. this might have the get frozen. The TP is starting soon, I think."
Talon stares at the hand of the person and the smacks it away and mutters under his breath as he begins to turn away, "Lamb..."
Brin (OOC) says, "Although judging by last night, maybe not."
Talon (OOC) nods.
Brin just...stares, and hopes he has not offended the man somehow. "I...I really must apologise, he's usually quite well-behaved..." hsi voice trails off as the man begins to turn away. "...that is...I, er...Oh my.". He drops his hands to his side forlornly, and watches the man turn away.
Reoite watches from his usual hiding place, ready to jump out and pounce again. But he won't this time...because...he just doen't want to... He remains there, quietly licking his hair back into place after the last outing.
Talon (OOC) wonders if Sigs comin'...
Brin (OOC) didn't think it was all that exciting. Hur hur.
Talon (OOC) hmphs!
Talon (OOC) stalks off!
Talon merely leaves without a second glance.
Talon has left.
Sigurd (OOC) is back! Too late it seemd.
Brin (OOC) sulks.
Sigurd (OOC) says, "Shall I pose or shall we just close this."
Brin (OOC) says, "Pose exits? I may have to run to Jasper soon."
Sigurd (OOC) nods.
Set.
Sigurd tenses visibly... 'Lamb'? A solarian in Nisan? But then again, why so surprised, Sigurd? The Jasper was nearby, after all, and Nisan was neutral, and therefore could not ban Solarian entry. "Lamb indeed....." His tone was bitter, not toward the man, but toward the derogatory title given. But what right had he to be bitter? He'd used that term often in his Jugend days, taking delight in running down the 'inferior' surface dwellers. How young and foolish he had been. Finally turning to Brin, he sighed and shook his head. "Don't worry about him. Just.. be careful, Brin. I'm going to check on Marguerite." Glancing at the small pile of rocks, he desided to leave them. They'd be there when he returned, and he could finish skipping them. A bow to the Etone, and he stepped past him, toward the Cathedral, trying to ignore that 6th sense of his that was screaming to go find Bart. He'd be fine, he could defend himself. Margie, on the other hand.....
Brin had barely heard the term given to Sigurd by the man, and if he did, it did not strike him as anything but an unusual title. Nodding to Sigurd, he turned without a word, and left toward the town, the thoughts of another visit to the cathedral now forgotten, as he went off to find somehing to eat.
Brin (OOC) says, "Righto. Thanks for that."