corks: (across the sea)
Jacob ([personal profile] corks) wrote in [community profile] sirenspull_logs2012-08-21 11:58 am
Entry tags:

i am a stranger in a strange land

Who: Jacob and youuuuu
When: In the morning of August 21
Where: Around the entire city, but in mostly quiet places
Summary: Jacob is being introspective and generally doing good things around the city, and is totally open to be bothered.
Warnings: G for GOD FIGURE DOING GOOD but it could vary, depending on your character.

If there's one thing that could be noted about Jacob when one sees him, it's how quiet he is.

Of course, not many people talk when they're out and about, more preoccupied with their thoughts than the people around them, but what's so odd about being around Jacob is how every sound seems to dim when one's nearby him, as if the world would rather be silent than infringe on anything he has to say.

One might notice him walking around, looking deceptively ordinary in his neat white collared shirt and black pants. And it looks like he's helping out in subtle ways- he buys an apple and hands it to a young and very grimy boy in a nearby alley, murmuring a few kind words before moving on. He rests a hand on the shoulder of a grieving mother weeping over a portrait of her son, and she stops crying- before she can even understand what happened to her, Jacob is gone.

And, maybe, just maybe, he'll approach you, smiling as if he's your long-lost father, ready to help with whatever his child needs.

After all, in dark times, don't you need a bit of hope to help yourself move on?
 

[ooc: Jacob is a sort of god-like figure in his canon and has powers like omniscience and a fate-changing touch, so therefore that affects his relations with the people around him a lot! Please fill out his permission post if you could! It'll help me out a lot about how much he can know about your character, thank you.]

orderfromchaos: (glancing back)

Sector 10, afternoonish.

[personal profile] orderfromchaos 2012-08-24 08:58 am (UTC)(link)
Dillon had planned to mind his own business. Every time he tried to help, it seemed like he just made things worst. But something in him just couldn't stop. Not when it took so little effort, when it was so badly needed, when he couldn't see any way the patterns could lead to disaster. It was just little things. Even if Dillon knew as well as anyone what vast and convoluted events little things could set in motion.

He slinks through the slums, head down, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, stepping quickly enough to be about his business and not linger. For someone who couldn't stop himself from looking fastidiously orderly if he tried, he doesn't actually stand out too much. He looks everywhere, picking out places he can be of use. He leans casually against a heavy brick wall cloven by a deep crack, a broken down darkness shelter from an earlier era. He can't replace the bricks that have been lost, but other materials trapped below (rotted wood, rusted steel beams, crumbled concrete and insulation) are still all there, slowly turning solid and seamless again.