Dust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mithrarin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
isleofavalon2020-11-17 07:48 pm
mithrarin) wrote in isleofavalon2020-11-17 07:48 pm
Entry tags:
An Elysian Tail
WHO: Dust. And you?
WHAT: Various tales of a Sen-Mithrarin.
WHERE: The Red Spring and environs
WHEN: Shortly after arrival o'clock!
WARNINGS: /shrug?
1. Hit It With a Sword
After a satisfying spar, Dust not only felt invigorated, but eager; his style needed to advance and improve, far past the swordsmanship he'd turned on General Gaius at the end of his last journey. Without the Dust Storm, he needed to master magic... apparently... and somehow meld it with his bladework to become effective once again.
So there was Dust, in the training guards, slashing huge arcs through the air at speed with his fluid, almost dancelike style, as he made small adjustments to his motions each time in anticipation of a foe both better-armed and more skilled than even the most ferocious monsters he'd faced on Falana. Tireless and fervent, he paused only when someone else came nearby, and that out of courtesy in case they wanted to get past or start their own practice without getting accidentally lopped in half. He did take up an awful lot of space in his training.
2. This IS No Place Like Home
Off the training field... Dust was far less at ease. Red Spring was a place for people who, well, weren't like him -- and though thus far humans had proven decent and pleasant overall, the subconscious differences still gnawed at him. No fur, weirdly-placed ears, no tails or scales... honestly, he was really glad their body language and expressions seemed very similar to ones he knew, or else he'd feel completely alien here.
That's why he kept an eye out for people who had that different look about them. Different style, different attitude, one of the little critters hanging out around them, and especially people he'd seen back on the beach. Fellow strangers in a strange land, like him.
"Do you have any idea," he said, without preamble, "if they're doing something like a feast again?"
3. Inn Schminn
Night found a small fire crackling beneath a lone tree, and in its light the Sen-Mithrarin propped up with his hands folded on his chest. The inn just wasn't comfortable -- sleeping in a bed, under a roof, wasn't something he did, and though he might need to learn at some point, that wouldn't be tonight.
To all appearances he was asleep, but it was light at best; approach and he'd sit up slightly, curious but not unwelcoming.
WHAT: Various tales of a Sen-Mithrarin.
WHERE: The Red Spring and environs
WHEN: Shortly after arrival o'clock!
WARNINGS: /shrug?
1. Hit It With a Sword
After a satisfying spar, Dust not only felt invigorated, but eager; his style needed to advance and improve, far past the swordsmanship he'd turned on General Gaius at the end of his last journey. Without the Dust Storm, he needed to master magic... apparently... and somehow meld it with his bladework to become effective once again.
So there was Dust, in the training guards, slashing huge arcs through the air at speed with his fluid, almost dancelike style, as he made small adjustments to his motions each time in anticipation of a foe both better-armed and more skilled than even the most ferocious monsters he'd faced on Falana. Tireless and fervent, he paused only when someone else came nearby, and that out of courtesy in case they wanted to get past or start their own practice without getting accidentally lopped in half. He did take up an awful lot of space in his training.
2. This IS No Place Like Home
Off the training field... Dust was far less at ease. Red Spring was a place for people who, well, weren't like him -- and though thus far humans had proven decent and pleasant overall, the subconscious differences still gnawed at him. No fur, weirdly-placed ears, no tails or scales... honestly, he was really glad their body language and expressions seemed very similar to ones he knew, or else he'd feel completely alien here.
That's why he kept an eye out for people who had that different look about them. Different style, different attitude, one of the little critters hanging out around them, and especially people he'd seen back on the beach. Fellow strangers in a strange land, like him.
"Do you have any idea," he said, without preamble, "if they're doing something like a feast again?"
3. Inn Schminn
Night found a small fire crackling beneath a lone tree, and in its light the Sen-Mithrarin propped up with his hands folded on his chest. The inn just wasn't comfortable -- sleeping in a bed, under a roof, wasn't something he did, and though he might need to learn at some point, that wouldn't be tonight.
To all appearances he was asleep, but it was light at best; approach and he'd sit up slightly, curious but not unwelcoming.
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[But it could heal now, right? Now that everything had been put right. If he never saw it, well, that isn't really important, is it?]
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[ Naoto wondered if that was why Dust was so desperate to get back home, If he had a place like that to protect, then no wonder he was worried about it.
Then again, he doesn't like to assume. ]
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[He accomplished that much, at least.]
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[ For him it guaranteed the world not imploding. For Dust, he isn't sure. ]