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sirenspull_logs2012-01-29 12:22 pm
returnsmagic) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-01-29 12:22 pm
Entry tags:
While though the tempest loudly roars, I hear the truth, it liveth.
Who: Aurican and YOU
When: all day in January 29 to January 30 an hour before morning sirens
Where: Everywhere
Summary: A day of an old man, a night of a gold dragon.
Warnings: Aurican's good manners and etiquette.
It has been weeks since Aurican's arrival.
Strange, how he takes special note of the weeks here, when back home he barely takes notice the years. And yet here he is, taking care to observe the calendar, the holidays, the "first quarter" of the economy, the names of the days and months. Things that never bothered Aurican before. If the elves weren't concerned about, neither was he. Truly, this is a human domain with just a little bit of everything: gods and demons, houses and "computers" and "robots", of poetry and literature and "blogs", magic and technology, and of every culture he could have imagine and could never begin to dream of. There is churches of every dominion he never knew (but never of Paladine or Takhisis, or any of the gods of Krynn, and he takes very cold comfort from that), as well as forces that are strictly anti-religion. Other forces are a little more disturbing, such as the supporters of the wrenched companies, ready at the hand to trample over the downtrodden and the lame for a profit and society's approval. Or, in a more recent example, the group that earned the label "Newcomer Killers" that is pushing for a violent action against newcomers such as himself. This, of course, is disconcerting enough to gain his attention, which all the while might as be flattering to the killers, to gain such an interest from a dragon.
Flattering as it is dangerous, of course. Aurican is merciful, yes, but as his kin-dragons Darlantan and Blayze once demonstrated, mercy must be tempered by strength. And there is no doubt that Aurican is mighty. Not the mightiest on this island, no, but he is fairly certain that he is at least formidable, from his magic and his breath weapons, down to his claws and wings and teeth. He will use his magic most of the time, after all. He has been through so much and sacrificed greatly for the return for the magic. It will be a dishonor to turn aside magic for the brutal and vicious might of a dragon's talons and fire.
But the question remains: is hiding even necessary? Hiding his dragon form?
Back home, Aurican remained in two-legged form for mostly for convience. It is easier to enter the buildings (and less destructive), and to flip the pages and unfurl the scrolls with the complex machinations of the hands than with a dragon's talons, and to read the small text. It is easier to savor the feasts with the smaller, more complex tongue of a lesser being than it is with the long, serpentine tongue. The feel of a warm bed vastly differs than sleeping in a nest made out of gems and stone. He could go on, really. It really shouldn't be that different here in Siren's Port.
What discerns him is that is the necessary of hiding. He never hid in Ansalon. He never had a reason too. He is Aurican, scion of Paladine himself, a dragon filled with honored purpose. Why should he hide who he is? He never bothered to hide, not even during the war. Except there is a war going in this land, but it is discreet, hidden within the offices of the politicians and the shareholders, the investors, and the gangs. A war over influence, a war over resources, a war over peoples' souls. A war that, if Aurican is not careful, might be dragged into just because he is a newcomer and a dragon as well. He might be a slave for entertainment for AGI, or an experiment ready to for dissection for SERO. Or maybe he will be ensnared by another newcomer. This place is not home, and Aurican will do well to remember that. So discretion is necessary, certainty. Which is why he created Old Man Eurig, the balladeer, the man who dotters over music. The old man is active in the day time, ready for bed a few hours after dark.
But every once in a while, Aurican the dragon takes to the skies, learning the land and roads and the monsters. A few he knocked out of the skies with his breath, but nearly all the time he uses his magic to strike them down, especially when there are soon-to-be-victims of the monsters' wrath to be considerate of.
Strange, how he takes special note of the weeks here, when back home he barely takes notice the years. And yet here he is, taking care to observe the calendar, the holidays, the "first quarter" of the economy, the names of the days and months. Things that never bothered Aurican before. If the elves weren't concerned about, neither was he. Truly, this is a human domain with just a little bit of everything: gods and demons, houses and "computers" and "robots", of poetry and literature and "blogs", magic and technology, and of every culture he could have imagine and could never begin to dream of. There is churches of every dominion he never knew (but never of Paladine or Takhisis, or any of the gods of Krynn, and he takes very cold comfort from that), as well as forces that are strictly anti-religion. Other forces are a little more disturbing, such as the supporters of the wrenched companies, ready at the hand to trample over the downtrodden and the lame for a profit and society's approval. Or, in a more recent example, the group that earned the label "Newcomer Killers" that is pushing for a violent action against newcomers such as himself. This, of course, is disconcerting enough to gain his attention, which all the while might as be flattering to the killers, to gain such an interest from a dragon.
Flattering as it is dangerous, of course. Aurican is merciful, yes, but as his kin-dragons Darlantan and Blayze once demonstrated, mercy must be tempered by strength. And there is no doubt that Aurican is mighty. Not the mightiest on this island, no, but he is fairly certain that he is at least formidable, from his magic and his breath weapons, down to his claws and wings and teeth. He will use his magic most of the time, after all. He has been through so much and sacrificed greatly for the return for the magic. It will be a dishonor to turn aside magic for the brutal and vicious might of a dragon's talons and fire.
But the question remains: is hiding even necessary? Hiding his dragon form?
Back home, Aurican remained in two-legged form for mostly for convience. It is easier to enter the buildings (and less destructive), and to flip the pages and unfurl the scrolls with the complex machinations of the hands than with a dragon's talons, and to read the small text. It is easier to savor the feasts with the smaller, more complex tongue of a lesser being than it is with the long, serpentine tongue. The feel of a warm bed vastly differs than sleeping in a nest made out of gems and stone. He could go on, really. It really shouldn't be that different here in Siren's Port.
What discerns him is that is the necessary of hiding. He never hid in Ansalon. He never had a reason too. He is Aurican, scion of Paladine himself, a dragon filled with honored purpose. Why should he hide who he is? He never bothered to hide, not even during the war. Except there is a war going in this land, but it is discreet, hidden within the offices of the politicians and the shareholders, the investors, and the gangs. A war over influence, a war over resources, a war over peoples' souls. A war that, if Aurican is not careful, might be dragged into just because he is a newcomer and a dragon as well. He might be a slave for entertainment for AGI, or an experiment ready to for dissection for SERO. Or maybe he will be ensnared by another newcomer. This place is not home, and Aurican will do well to remember that. So discretion is necessary, certainty. Which is why he created Old Man Eurig, the balladeer, the man who dotters over music. The old man is active in the day time, ready for bed a few hours after dark.
But every once in a while, Aurican the dragon takes to the skies, learning the land and roads and the monsters. A few he knocked out of the skies with his breath, but nearly all the time he uses his magic to strike them down, especially when there are soon-to-be-victims of the monsters' wrath to be considerate of.
[ ooc: Permissions post here! Just make sure I don't step anyone's toes. Also, put in the location and time on the subject line! ]
Early morning hours before dawn
Maybe just felt like he should make up for that night he'd missed during the blizzard. Too bad most of the snow was gone, though. Unlike almost everbody else, he'd been glad to see it. Even if seven feet was a bit over the top. The intermittent rain tonight wasn't a terrible thing, even if it wasn't his preference. Nevermind that in the wake of wherever he'd been fighting, the rain would have turned to snow.
He too had been seeing to the protection of those who were unfortunate enough to be about at night. His people skills might have been lacking, but he knew how to guide. It was part of being a shinigami. When needed, Hyourinmaru would course through the skies, leaving an icy trail in his wake.
He caught sight of Aurican here and there, and at some point, they happen to have each guided a group of people to safer buildings only a block or two apart. Aurican was impossible not to notice, and most of the people in his charge were quick to flee inside at the sight of the dragon. Others stood stock-still in fright before he shoved them along with kidou.
"It's fine. He's not one of them."
Maybe there wasn't the greatest deal of patience in his tone, but it got the job done.
no subject
Unfortunately for Aurican, a few have decided to become stragglers and go in complete opposite directions. He lets out an "harumph" and makes his way to correct the matter.
Ffffft. Hitsugaya would help you with that reference if he could, Aurican.
Of course, that inclination might have been tested when said straggler grinned down at him and clumsily began to ruffle his hair. "Heeeey there, little fella." And for some reason, the idoit seemed to be impressed about something. "Wow, feels like real hair, too. Didn't think that'd happen to a garden gnome comin' to life. Cool!"
... Yes, he was sorely tempted to leave this guy out on the street. But Hitsugaya was fortunately not so petty and cruel as that. He was also accustomed to dealing with drunk people. And trying to talk to them never did him any good.
So he batted the hand away without a word, then snagged the man's wrist and executed a quick shunpo back over to the group Aurican was trying to round back up. The man stumbled to the ground in his disorientation, nearly taking Hitsugaya with him. Damned drunks. But he managed to keep his feet, and pulled his charge back to his own before letting go.
He addressed Aurican directly. "You've got the others?"
It's okay, he'll just ask somebody else. Provided they don't run away.
"I believe so."
As he slowly follows the group's tipsy steps toward the safehouse, he keeps a close eye at the sky and the surroundings - monsters come in droves when there's a large group of people around, and while Aurican is powerful, he has his limits.
Hitsugaya has been called Gandalf. He still doesn't understand.
He caught the way Aurican was scanning the area; that was something he could help with.
"Hyourinmaru and I can keep a handle on what's going on in the sky while you cover ground level." He nodded down at his blade while he spoke, since Hyourinmaru was currently not in shikai release and therefore not present in his spirit form.
He'd mentioned the spirit of his zanpakutou before, and could see no reason for the dragon not to remember.
oh oops i misread your tag earlier, i thought he was in shikai release
It is short journey, but what it lacked in length makes up for in tediousness. Aurican never thought that alcohol would be this disabling.
Yeah, it was more of a general thing, for scene-setting the presence of monsters
Though that same idiot tried to ruffle his hair again while he wasn't looking. What was so damned fascinating about his hair? Another swat got the hand away from him, and this time, he couldn't help adding, "Quit that."
They're only feet away from the door when a flying creature comes into view, seeing the group and diving for it. But that was remedied easily enough.
"Souten ni zase, Hyourinmaru."
And now the dragon spirit issued forth from the blade, swiftly striking up at the diving monster. Briefly, the monster managed to dodge out of the way, but a swish of his sword curled Hyourinmaru back on proper course. The monster froze on contact, and dropped to the ground -- shattering when it hit.
no subject
A roar comes from behind, and Aurican turns his neck to see a strange pack of dog-like beasts running in their direction. The gold dragon turns in their direction, breathing in deeply, lungs expanding. His jaws parted and a strange gas billows out toward the rampaging dogs. They slow down considerably, their limbs shaking from the sudden onslaught of weakness they are feeling.
Two steps further and Aurican neatly snaps the spines of the cursed dogs with a slashing of his talons.
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He kept Hyourinmaru circling the sky for a few moments as he watched Aurican dispense with the ground-level beasts. Breathing some type of paralytic gas? Hn. He hadn't ever heard of a dragon being able to do that before, and his head tilted slightly in interest.
Hitsugaya didn't even blink as he watched Aurican snap their spines. It was efficient and clean. Perfectly respectable, that. He'd seen far more brutal kills.
"I'd never heard of a dragon having that kind of breath weapon at his disposal."
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He sniffs at the corpses, the scent of decaying flesh graces his nostrils with much delicacy as dragon acid.
"A pity, for these tortured souls."
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The area appeared to be clear for the time being, and he dismissed his shikai, Hyourinmaru's form above dissolving into thin air. Just as well; he was still huffy at the other dragon for their previous encounter.
Hitsugaya wrinknled his nose mildly at the stench of decay. "And yet they'll be back tomorrow. I can't even send them on like I should be able to."
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"I'm shinigami. It's my duty to see that the souls of the dead reach their proper destinations. These creatures . . ." He made an offhand gesture to refer to the Darkness monsters in general. "Are dead souls still trapped here. No matter what I do, I can't send them on."
It was vexing, really. But he'd more or less gotten used to it.
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Aurican is fascinated by this man. For too long, he pondered and searched for the meaning of death, but only to have come to inconclusive answers.
"Where do the souls go when you send them?"
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There were a lot of misconceptions about shinigami, really. Like that they were killers. This was patently untrue, of course; there were regulations against actually causing a mortal's death. But to those willing to listen, he would explain. And it helped that the one asking was a dragon.
Not that he would admit to that bias.
"That's not up to us. Their actions in life decide where they'll go. We merely show the way to those that for whatever reason were unable to pass properly on their own." He nodded down at his zanpakutou. "Our zanpakutou can sever from a corrupted soul the evil acts it might have committed after death, but their living actions remain. It's essentially up to the individual themself."