open.

[aslandish]

Who: Aslan (aslandish) and YOU!
When: February 13th through February 19th, day or night.
Where: All over the Port.
Summary: Even the gods themselves don't always walk unseen.
Warnings: None?
Notes: Permissions post is here! Please tag in with the time, sector, and specific location! Daytime threads will mostly be Aslan in his human form; nighttime threads and less populated areas like Sector 7 and the beach will likely be his lion form. If you have a preference, feel free to specify! Also, tag yourselves in!

[ A year and several months, not including the time spent in the world he calls his home. Though it is no great span of time for one who exists outside of it, he feels the days have been long, even for one such as himself.

Despite this, he finds he is content. There is something to be said for the work that he does. Whether is be an encouraging word by day, or a beacon by night, it is in the little things that he finds the most joy and happiness.

A true smile from one who was lost has ever been enough to warm his heart with the heat of a thousand suns. ]

Comments

Afternoon, Newcomer Memorial Center on the border of Sector 7

[paysdelamour]

[Francis lets out a soft sigh as he finishes cleaning up the grave markers. Mostly it was just pulling any weeds he noticed, and making sure that any dead flowers near the graves were removed. It made them look nicer. And somehow, he felt like those there would have appreciated it, even if he hadn't known them. And he was sure that those he knew would have appreciated it. Most of them, at least.

Now he was sitting quietly on one of the benches in the middle, facing toward the outer gate, and toward the markers for his Nation friends who had been there and had left. He debates pulling out a cigarette, then decides against it; now it's just a time of reflection, contemplation. He's not sure why he's lingering so long, he normally goes back home for a few hours before going to work. But now, he feels like this is where he needs to be at the moment. ]

[aslandish]

[ And there, in the distance, a glimmer of gold is faintly visible.

Do you investigate or no? ]

[paysdelamour]

[Francis notices the glow, and is sort of transfixed by it for a moment. He knows that glow from before. It's soft, warm, and yet somehow majestic, just as it was that other night. Slowly, Francis stands, before he walks out of the Memorial Center towards the light. It's still a bit far off in the distance, from what he can tell, but he's not really paying attention to that right now. All he really thinks about is intersecting with it.]

[aslandish]

[ A bit far off, but not so much that the glow can't be distinguished for what it truly is. A lion, greater than any other, with a mane that shines like so much gold in the light of the setting sun.

You know him, don't you? ]

[paysdelamour]

[He does. Francis continues toward the glow, his heart beating remarkably fast all of a sudden. He has so many different feelings about religion that it's only proper to believe he'd have the same feelings toward the being his religion is about. He swallows a little, and breathes in deeply to pull himself together, as he finally stands in front of the proud lion in front of him.

Then it occurs to him: What does one say to God?]

... alors... shall I call you Aslan, or... do you prefer another name?

[... yeah. Smooth move there, France.]