Terra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
undeterrable) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2016-11-25 09:42 pm
undeterrable) wrote in lostcarnival2016-11-25 09:42 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
Who: Terra and YOU
What:the prodigal son post patrol return
When: S1:21
Where: Carnival grounds naturally
Warnings: n/a unless you count allusions to the vampire war
(arrival)
[After the failure on his part to ensure that his coworkers were safe during the vampire war, Terra had an itch called guilt. It was a familiar itch, one that crawled under his skin and threatened to spawn further, but he hadn't thought about that moment in his life in just over three years. Guilt, and everything that came with it, was not fun to dwell on, nor was it purposeful in any way, shape or form. It made him feel more human than he had felt in a long time, and he hated that.
His Glider comes to a stop, and he steps off, dismissing it with a flick of his wrist into a spark of light before rolling a shoulder. He must have injured it somehow, fighting one of those Nightmares earlier on in the previous week, but it was worth it. Long tail swishing behind his legs, Terra takes in the familiar sight of the carnival and inhales, feeling himself relax marginally. This was home, and considering his (first) last home had been destroyed in a whirl of Darkness, he needed to be better equipped to protect it.
First thing was first; a visit to the medic tent.
He's bound to make a sight - unguligrade hooves, bulky/tall form, large horns that many other veterans might have seen grow from their pubescent form, dexterous tail. But it's the golden eyes that are a bit unnerving, the gemstones and stone embedded in his skin, the vines crawling along his arms sprouting buds. One has to wonder how long he's been here and how long he plans to keep at it, but the mental strain has dulled his empathy, so when he turns to look, he gives an almost apathetic stare before speaking.]
Did you say something?
(evening)
[There's no such thing as a break to Terra. There never has been and never will be. Considering he has, just recently, returned, that just means that there's more to do than can ever be done (there's far too much to take in here). Even after visiting the medic tent, there's too much going on. You might find him jogging around the carnival circuit, meditating in a quiet spot in the trailer park, or doing kata with his keyblade in hand.
Whichever happens, make sure you call out first. Poor boy's a bit easy to startle.]
(dinner/night ~stargazing~)
[It's almost strange. The Cook House is a lot noisier than he remembers it being in the months post the war, not that it's necessarily a bad thing, but it's almost too much. He remembers different people, voices, faces. People that should be there but aren't. Reasons why he quietly excuses himself from the table and steps outside to take a breather.
The stars were never the same. But they felt familiar, at the very least. A comfort of sorts He sits, long tail curling around his legs, then speaks, out loud without caring that anybody might be listening.]
They used to say, that long ago in the age of fairy tales, the worlds were bathed in Light. People lived happily under that Light, protected by the χ-blade. Many came to desire the Light, and their hearts grew Dark with greed and jealousy. They introduced Darkness in the form of war, and the χ-blade was shattered. Those worlds became the stars that we see.
[He hums, tilts his head and places a hand to his chest.]
Wherever we go, whatever happens, our hearts are connected.
[Sometimes, it felt good to say that out loud. Terra glances up then, horns swinging with the movement of his head.]
What do you believe?
What:
When: S1:21
Where: Carnival grounds naturally
Warnings: n/a unless you count allusions to the vampire war
(arrival)
[After the failure on his part to ensure that his coworkers were safe during the vampire war, Terra had an itch called guilt. It was a familiar itch, one that crawled under his skin and threatened to spawn further, but he hadn't thought about that moment in his life in just over three years. Guilt, and everything that came with it, was not fun to dwell on, nor was it purposeful in any way, shape or form. It made him feel more human than he had felt in a long time, and he hated that.
His Glider comes to a stop, and he steps off, dismissing it with a flick of his wrist into a spark of light before rolling a shoulder. He must have injured it somehow, fighting one of those Nightmares earlier on in the previous week, but it was worth it. Long tail swishing behind his legs, Terra takes in the familiar sight of the carnival and inhales, feeling himself relax marginally. This was home, and considering his (first) last home had been destroyed in a whirl of Darkness, he needed to be better equipped to protect it.
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First thing was first; a visit to the medic tent.
He's bound to make a sight - unguligrade hooves, bulky/tall form, large horns that many other veterans might have seen grow from their pubescent form, dexterous tail. But it's the golden eyes that are a bit unnerving, the gemstones and stone embedded in his skin, the vines crawling along his arms sprouting buds. One has to wonder how long he's been here and how long he plans to keep at it, but the mental strain has dulled his empathy, so when he turns to look, he gives an almost apathetic stare before speaking.]
Did you say something?
(evening)
[There's no such thing as a break to Terra. There never has been and never will be. Considering he has, just recently, returned, that just means that there's more to do than can ever be done (
Whichever happens, make sure you call out first. Poor boy's a bit easy to startle.]
(dinner/night ~stargazing~)
[It's almost strange. The Cook House is a lot noisier than he remembers it being in the months post the war, not that it's necessarily a bad thing, but it's almost too much. He remembers different people, voices, faces. People that should be there but aren't. Reasons why he quietly excuses himself from the table and steps outside to take a breather.
The stars were never the same. But they felt familiar, at the very least. A comfort of sorts He sits, long tail curling around his legs, then speaks, out loud without caring that anybody might be listening.]
They used to say, that long ago in the age of fairy tales, the worlds were bathed in Light. People lived happily under that Light, protected by the χ-blade. Many came to desire the Light, and their hearts grew Dark with greed and jealousy. They introduced Darkness in the form of war, and the χ-blade was shattered. Those worlds became the stars that we see.
[He hums, tilts his head and places a hand to his chest.]
Wherever we go, whatever happens, our hearts are connected.
[Sometimes, it felt good to say that out loud. Terra glances up then, horns swinging with the movement of his head.]
What do you believe?
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