Proxy One (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theosen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-03-04 10:46 pm
theosen) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-03-04 10:46 pm
Entry tags:
closed.
Who: Proxy the Elder (theosen) and Proxy the Younger (awakenings)
When: March 4th, after the evening sirens.
Where: Out in the darkness.
Summary: A meeting of Romdeau's gods amidst the decay of fallen night.
Warnings: Proxy One.
[ The hours from dawn til dusk whittle away with what seems to be excessive slowness. Ironic, considering his longevity, but there's so much he has yet to learn of this world that may be some past of his own.
He does not sleep, does not rest -- there's too much on his mind for him to truly be at ease. Instead, he stretches forth his senses, detecting what he can from the lightlessness of his haven.
Finally, the sirens sound, and the stench of decay returns. Rising up in silence, he disappears into the night. A dark wraith painted all in red, he resumes his exploration from the height of the tallest towers. He does not wish to be seen and so he is not, a whisper of darkness subject to nature's whim.
It's only towards the early morning hours that he stops, perching himself on the roof of an abandoned skyscraper. He does not expect her to come; in fact, he would much prefer if she did not. He waits nonetheless, though, to see if she will find him. ]
theosen) and Proxy the Younger (awakenings)When: March 4th, after the evening sirens.
Where: Out in the darkness.
Summary: A meeting of Romdeau's gods amidst the decay of fallen night.
Warnings: Proxy One.
[ The hours from dawn til dusk whittle away with what seems to be excessive slowness. Ironic, considering his longevity, but there's so much he has yet to learn of this world that may be some past of his own.
He does not sleep, does not rest -- there's too much on his mind for him to truly be at ease. Instead, he stretches forth his senses, detecting what he can from the lightlessness of his haven.
Finally, the sirens sound, and the stench of decay returns. Rising up in silence, he disappears into the night. A dark wraith painted all in red, he resumes his exploration from the height of the tallest towers. He does not wish to be seen and so he is not, a whisper of darkness subject to nature's whim.
It's only towards the early morning hours that he stops, perching himself on the roof of an abandoned skyscraper. He does not expect her to come; in fact, he would much prefer if she did not. He waits nonetheless, though, to see if she will find him. ]
no subject
[Humans suffer just as much as Proxies and other immortals do. The only difference lies in the lengths of their life spans.
Even so, she understands what he's telling her at the very least.
So long as she can find a place to belong, someplace to call her own, and to exist without falling into despair, then maybe there's some hope yet. But until that day, this is all she has.]
I intend to, one way or another.
[The truth, as always.]