|
|
Post by Elphora on Mar 6, 2018 4:35:08 GMT -6
Cardinal it will try to change; it will clamor for clarity word count: 280 | reference | so glad we're doing this! hope my post is OK :>
Pale dawn light shone through one of the library's arched stained-glass windows. The slanted rays fell across the floor, revealing piles of books disordered and out of place, some open and splayed with their old yellowed pages stirring gently. It looked as though the place had been ransacked; Those who recalled the library would do so with relative fondness for the sometimes-eclectic but normally organised rows of tomes, their categories and theories as far-flung as all the many lands of Hireath. Toward the back of the library, in a little alcove tucked behind another haphazard stack of books, the librarian was reading by the flickering light of a low-burned wax candle. As with the library, Cardinal was in a visible state of disarray. His overlong mane and tail, normally braided or at the very least groomed, spilled unkempt over parchment and desk alike. The Councillor's eyes, a deep and gentle garnet, were sullen and weary and pocketed by heavy listless bags. He read the same passage over and over: The Origin of Kirins: An Aodhian Manuscript - Unable to digest the words written on the paper, his mind a ceaseless turmoil since the Oasis... The Oasis - what terrible things he had seen there. Burning smoke; The child, screaming; The destruction and renewal of a goddess...A sound roused Cardinal from his listless waking nightmare, one of countless that he'd had over the days since their return. Startled, he glanced up to see a familiar figure stepping into the hallway of the library proper, the morning light turning their bulky serious form into a dark silhouette. "Hello?" The Councillor called out, his voice haggard and exhausted, "Sesil, is that - is that you?" |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2018 16:15:21 GMT -6
Sesil - Serora - Savior Even in winter Sedo’s air carries heat like regret, a heady warmth stiff and wicked in the air. The sands simmer and shimmer, stretch and sprawl. In Osulas the streets are busy as usual. Merchants carry their carts forth. Furies return, reporting for duty, their wings casting dark shadows on the city below. Children run around, perhaps doing errands or simply playing, the soil black under their hooves. The spirit of man is particularly tense, a tangible and tactile thing that shows on everyone’s face and is conveyed in their voices.
It’s an energy that feels alive to Sesil. He remembers it with an unexpected wave of familiarity that washes over him. He recalls orange glow, blurry light, a sickly sweet smell of fruit and the buzzing of flies on rot. The latter is too loud, as though he’s remembering it wrong. He remembers the foul cores in the last of their perishing fruit. The sensation comes and goes and he shakes it off until it fades and he no longer feels the urge to take a breath he doesn’t need. He sheds the memories like a snake sheds his skin.
The crowd’s energy has yet to reach its crescendo, the quiet murmur slowly swelling and bounding from building to building. Sesil feels clammy, stuck to him like a sheen of sweat on skin, as though her canyon walls will fall come down upon his bent back.
As he reaches the library all of that is forgotten. He can breathe again, and he does, the air smelling of paper and vaguely stale but still familiar and a comfort. The doctor likes coming here. It’s quiet, an organized chaos, a centre of knowledge that lacks the bustle and bluster of the streets, where most can’t read and have little use for tomes and books.
He’s not here for any book in particular. Few subjects come to mind.
"Sesil, is that - is that you?"
Tall dark ears swivel at familiar voice. He paces forward, lumbering and somewhat heavy, his form large amongst the shelves. He finds it in himself to smile, for he is in good company.
“Hello, Cardinal.” His voice, though deep, is remarkably quiet. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
WC: 371| Post #1 | I'm so excited, loved your post! |
|
|
|
Post by Elphora on Mar 18, 2018 4:34:22 GMT -6
Cardinal it will try to change; it will clamor for clarity word count: 395 | reference | sorry for being so slow! ;;
It was a rare day that Cardinal saw this particular old friend, made rarer still by the political maelstrom that even now he could feel crackling in the air outside of the library, terse with petrichor like an oncoming storm. Sesil was a detached and quiet sort of fellow, brusque but not rude and with an affable moodiness - An appreciator of knowledge, this was more than enough to warrant him entry into the Councillor's good graces. With the tendency to be a rather solitary individual himself, Cardinal fostered their kinship as much as he marveled at its unlikeliness; Though he supposed he kept stranger and stranger company of late, Mullahs and Sultans and conspirators in the nighttime. In spite of his evident weariness, the librarian roused from his seat at once, eager to appear more lively than his wretched appearance would undoubtedly belie to the doctor's well-practiced stare. "A while? Yes, yes - you've been on the road, haven't you? I'll fetch us some tea-" Scattered, he stood absentmindedly for a moment and let the thought trail away; His blinking eyes felt like sandpaper and grit, and it took him evident care not to stumble erstwhile into one of the many teetering stacks of books. One or two slid free regardless, the spines snapping open in a flurry of pages as they hit the many-rugged floor. "Ah, clumsy me, nevermind," The stallion muttered as he picked through the disorder, more for his own benefit than Sesil's - The doctor was rarely a man for small-talk, and Cardinal liked to indulge his long silences without the silly prattle of chatter that other folk seemed to need to feel at ease. Out from his corner and into the library proper, Cardinal could get a better look at his visitor - Sesil seemed hardly the worse for wear, an unrivaled practiced traveler when it came to hardiness and reliability. In the long absences between their meetings, the Councillor supposed that he went to all corners of Sedo, and faced uncountable sorts of horrors on the daily - Though not necessarily a meek creature, the librarian much preferred the safety that only familiarity could provide, and found even the thought of such a nomadic and unpredictable lifestyle frazzling. "I trust you've been well?" He asked politely, over the gentle whistle of the nearby kettle that had been put over heat to boil. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2018 14:26:29 GMT -6
Sesil - Serora - Savior Most nomads would never see the inside of this library throughout the span of their short, often hard and sometimes lifes. Few even knew of its existence, settled within the heart of the city of Osulas. Cradled between her towers, her terracotta brick, wedged in her midst. This library sheltered perhaps the only abundance of knowledge in Sedo from the hammering sun that would bleach her pages, from the hot sands that would fray her books and tarnish her ink. Cardinal was her keeper, diligent and tireless, her sole protector. Sesil knew him to be humble but his mind to be a cathedral, with great arches and domes, and he kept this haven safe the same way this place was Cardinal’s own keeper. They would preserve each other. Within her walls Sesil had learned much, when his years were fewer, and he had witnessed the collection grow in his sparse visits.
Cardinal was almost always there. Not a shadow that blotted her walls, but a soothing presence. His conversation was welcome, and the Councillor never seemed bothered by Sesil’s clumsy gaucherie.
The savior has the chance to look at Cardinal for just a moment before the librarian springs up with renewed vigor, but he doesn’t miss the exhaustion that draws his features. A glance is all it takes. “Tea sounds nice.” Sesil mutters, watching how the Councillor moves with uncharacteristic strain in a space that, if he didn’t know better, may as well have been unfamiliar to him. The stacks of books, towers of chaos, mostly hold under the assault save for a few. They drop to the floor, pitifully holding by the seams and the glue. Sesil helps picking them up as tendrils of smoke-grey teke reach out, “Allow me.”
He puts the books back, unsure if there is an order to this chaos and instead choosing to return them haphazardly, unsure where they belong if that’s the case. The stacks stabilize under his hold as the thought hits him, he is not well. Sesil knows him to be a man of worry, and he knows that there are many things for a Councillor to worry over. But here within his books he would soon forget himself in favor of reading, studying, writing, adding and taking from the collection.
“I have been.” he confirms with a nod, watching for the tower not to fall again and then approaching Cardinal, “As well as one can hope to be.” his flanks carried new scars, his heart carried new lives he couldn’t save, his head carried the placement of new bodies he had to help bury. He eyes the librarian with heavy lids, shard blue eyes keen to the way others hold themselves, to the way their body betrays things they would rather not tell. It is perhaps a bad habit to dissect, something he even subjected those he was close to, and it was a habit he could not stop or had interest in stopping.
“How are you holding up?”
WC: 499| Post #2 | My friend I am so sorry how obscenely long this has taken me. I really wanted to reply to this still and figured I simply would, for I adore Cardinal and I hate how I let this slip through my fingers. |
|
