[ Routine prompts him awake before dawn, but it's the clattering of thoughts in his head that lead Josh down, dressed in the jeans he'd fallen asleep in. The house is quiet, but his footfalls sound foreign, and the shadows in this new place make it an odd exercise in tiptoeing out the door, sneakers hooked on one hand's fingers before he settles down on the porch to slip them onto his cold feet.
The last forty-eight hours have been a whirlwind of things -- his initiation as a Netsach hunter and the subsequent promotion to Seventh Circle ( learning all about Solomon Burke as part of his initiation and lighting a candle at the Memorial had meant more than he thought it would, especially after his conversation with Brig about how the original founders of Taskforce Valkyrie had been like family ) followed soonafter with Hikaru giving him the death mask of the geist that had once belonged to a man that had meant something to the Blade King; and he wasn't even going to go into Gabriel Marlowe's suggestion of not just looking to join up with the Order of the Grateful Dead, but to consider the Rhiannon Group as a choice that would not just offer him a place as a Sin-Eater among the network of Sin-Eaters and Cards, but as an option for more.
He jogs then, down the street leading out of the residential district and up the path that leads him to Falner and then Balamb. ]
[He hugs her good night and watches as she enters her room to sleep. She'd stayed up to congratulate him and to tell him she was now an initiate of the Arcanum.
She was walking further into his world.
It seemed as if it were just yesterday that she was running around like Kathleen; Monet reprimanding her firmly whenever it looked like she was going to do something silly and dangerous as children do. Then she was in college, her mother telling him that she'd begun to help her out in what had become her trade as his intelligence person. Then M was in bed and Jess had completely taken over her role. Then M was gone and only J was there.
It was just as hard on her as it was on her mother. Maybe even more so. But she did it just like her mother did. Maybe even better.
Now she was walking further into his life. She and K were actually in his life now. He wasn't sure how to feel about that anymore.
His life was dangerous and he'd been fine with them helping him since they were faraway from the action, troubled only by domestic problems (which he himself wanted to deal with. Getting slapped for it in the process). But now they were here, with him, in the middle of mages, faeries and city-wide evil spirits.
How was he going to protect them? Would J be given armor and a sidearm? Would K choose to become a Hunter? If something happened to them while he was in the field, would he make it back in time to save them?
The events of the past 48 hours were enough to mentally exhaust even him. So as J's door closed, he made his way to Kitty's room to see if she was all right. She was asleep, covered in her sheets, the AC on to keep her cool (a luxury he believed they didn't have every night back in the US). He fixed the crumples in her sheets and kissed her on the cheek. Little Kathleen moved ever so slightly, a small smile curling itself on her face.
"Pandorans", they'd said. "She's an alchemist", they'd said. She was his goddaughter was all he could think. She was his ward. He'd never let anything bad happen to her.
And here he was now, with a dark-colored shield resting on J's dining table, the spirit of a dead friend of Hikaru's and Sensei An'yu's deep inside it. "A powerful Pandoran" the file had said. A good friend and a mentor. Someone Sensei An'yu was looking for ways to bring back.
Things were much simpler when he just saw them as those black, shadowy things that wanted to chomp on his skin. When he just hit and shot them before they took a swipe at him. But if this Pandoran could choose to be good, then there really was hope in the world, and his belief that what you were did not define who you are would only be proven further.
He'd been learning a whole lot recently. The world, which he'd traveled more than once over, was much larger than even he had known. It was a bit much to take in. But he'd seen a lot of strange things in his life. They were just finally starting to make sense.
He closed the door to K's room and made his way to the couch downstairs. Sleeping in a bed was still a foreign sensation to him. Sometimes he'd sleep on the floor, the hardness of it making him comfortable as dirt and earth and rocks and sand had been his bed most his life. Some random rock his pillow. He'd been getting used to couches though. It was a start.
He closed his eyes and went to sleep. As soon as he closed them, he felt them open again, his body waking him up automatically because of his training. One hour had passed. He was feeling better. But he never really felt rested.
Everyday was a battle. His life, a war. Maybe being with an actual family would teach him otherwise. Having a team made him comfortable again really. He was starting to feel safer, although having new comrades-in-arms brought with it its own problems. He felt the need to watch over them too.
Too much thinking. Maybe some time training would clear his head, like it was oft to do.
He picked up his Eisenstein's Shield and the Dark Shield of Gintoki, resting the latter on his back where the prior used to rest.
He made his way to the Shatterdome. Passed the hours working on his shield, incorporating what he'd learned from Kaz's grandmother, and from his training in the basics of Lightning song with Wiseman Tagabigay. His shield work wasn't enough. Not nearly. He'd have to improve it. And he had a long way to go.
He switched to his new shield, to learn the weight and balance of it. Then he wielded both.
When he was done, he found his feet taking him toward the Falner Estate, where Inquisitor Orin stayed. It was a cold and lonely morning and he was ever so restless.]
[ He's about done with his fifth circuit when he slows down close to Orin, heart thudding in his chest from the exercise, breath short but mind clear and alert from the runner's high. When he settles down in front of the golem, he rubs his hands over his face and finds himself staring down at his palms and the lines there, criss-crossing like a map.
( I asked the Dovetailor for help. Oh? With? Yeah... I... I checked Facebook. The boys kept in touch with you. I'm... I'm glad they did. )
It's not that he never thought of home while he was in Vancouver, but it'd been a life he'd had to bury to keep sane. Awakening as a Sin-Eater in the dead of night with Jonathan Davis standing at the foot of his bed when the man had been dead for over a decade had been a reality he'd had to take in stride, to deal with and accept.
When his geist had told him that they'd needed to go, hesitation had been shelved to keep fear and confusion at bay -- and he'd run. He'd run as fast as he could, kept to the shadows and as out of sight as he could get, offering only his first name and little else because he hadn't wanted people to come looking.
Josh looks up then, turns his attention to Coach -- quiet, as always, and standing off to one side. His geist is never too far away, but he's quiet in a way that Jack Marlowe was not, and sometimes Josh wonders if his former mentor does it deliberately -- keeping quiet and opting to stay as unobtrusive as possible in an effort ( unconscious or otherwise ) to make him feel like he's still that same kid that he was at twenty-one: determined enough not to show how scared he was at what he'd become, at the uncertainty of it all as they made their way towards Yggdrasil's Roots up at the Canadian border.
One of these days, he figures, he's going to have to ask the old man about that, but... not today.
Today, he's alright with sharing the silence, Falner still mostly asleep, give or take the occasional hunter wandering the grounds. ]
if there had been CR with Orin already, I was going to throw-out a voice from above, Brig on Orin.
[ He knows why his feet take him to Orin. He'd read his file.
Assessment --
"Magitech Golem". It is difficult to tell if Orin experiences the loneliness of being one of the few Magitech golems in existence, given how he associates himself with human beings as though he was one himself.
Perhaps he does not see the need for differentiating himself, given the positive reinforcement he has had since the start of his existence.
--Brigade felt he could relate in a way.
He'd read in the Arcanum that most Prometheans had the driving urge to become human. Brigade himself, had never felt that need, having come to life and having been brought up in a unique situation -- his had Disquiet never affected the HECATON, the troops that had given their blood and dogtags in his creation. His Wasteland had never taken effect at the base where Dr. Eisenstein (then already a senile Redeemed) stayed, kept there by his friends out of love and loyalty for him. For all intents and purposes, he'd lived a good part of his early life as a human and thus never felt that same desperation the other of his kind seemed to feel.
It was perplexing. Brigade, in the 122 years of his life, had never come to terms with who or what he was. He simply lived with his condition and dealt with it in ways he felt were efficient.
As he approaches from the distance and sees the gigantic form of Orin come into view, something else catch his eye -- Josh?
He's sweaty and a bit flushed. He'd been jogging. He's out-of-breath. He's out of shape for a former Star Quarterback. All Brigade knows are the little bits and pieces he put together from speaking with Josh -- Josh stopped running, and spent his time in a back kitchen of a restaurant. Josh stopped running cause he died and was only now coming to terms with it. ]
Fancy seeing you here. Here I thought we'd do this after our first jog.
[ He spots Brig as the Promethean comes over and lifts a hand by way of greeting. ]
Hey, man. Good morning. [ He tilts his head to one side in response to the statement, a questioning look sent the older man's way as he turns those words over in his head. ] What do you mean?
I miss them something fierce, Brig. [ He glances over. ] Four of them I thought of as my brothers from other mothers.
[ He looks down at his hands, counts their names off. ] I'd known Phil since grade school. His mom was as much my mom after... [ trailing off a little at that. ] Anyway. Me and that guy did the whole ringer of middle and high school, and when I got into college, we made a pact to make the team together.
That's where we met Jules and Angel. And then somewhere there, we picked up Greg. He was our water boy. But I trained him myself, told Coach Matt and Pa that if they wanted a Quarterback that they could trust as much as they trusted me, they should give a look in his direction.
[ Brig listens quietly as Josh talks. These were people Josh loved very much and got ripped away from. Brig commiserates. He knows the feeling in some way. ]
Have you gotten in touch with them? Not just through Cindy? [ He points to Josh's cigarette, which has turned into a bar of ash. ] Or gotten updates from her? I hope they're doing well.
[ Brig takes a puff of his ] Probably because she thinks it's you whose got to tell them about you. [ He adds a bit more after ] If she's still in touch with them, I guess they handled her "changing" just fine. [ Smiles and looks back at Josh with a look that's asking "What's stopping you?" ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Waking the Dead 2.0 | 14 April 2063
The last forty-eight hours have been a whirlwind of things -- his initiation as a Netsach hunter and the subsequent promotion to Seventh Circle ( learning all about Solomon Burke as part of his initiation and lighting a candle at the Memorial had meant more than he thought it would, especially after his conversation with Brig about how the original founders of Taskforce Valkyrie had been like family ) followed soonafter with Hikaru giving him the death mask of the geist that had once belonged to a man that had meant something to the Blade King; and he wasn't even going to go into Gabriel Marlowe's suggestion of not just looking to join up with the Order of the Grateful Dead, but to consider the Rhiannon Group as a choice that would not just offer him a place as a Sin-Eater among the network of Sin-Eaters and Cards, but as an option for more.
He jogs then, down the street leading out of the residential district and up the path that leads him to Falner and then Balamb. ]
Re: Waking the Dead 2.0 | 14 April 2063
[He hugs her good night and watches as she enters her room to sleep. She'd stayed up to congratulate him and to tell him she was now an initiate of the Arcanum.
She was walking further into his world.
It seemed as if it were just yesterday that she was running around like Kathleen; Monet reprimanding her firmly whenever it looked like she was going to do something silly and dangerous as children do. Then she was in college, her mother telling him that she'd begun to help her out in what had become her trade as his intelligence person. Then M was in bed and Jess had completely taken over her role. Then M was gone and only J was there.
It was just as hard on her as it was on her mother. Maybe even more so. But she did it just like her mother did. Maybe even better.
Now she was walking further into his life. She and K were actually in his life now. He wasn't sure how to feel about that anymore.
His life was dangerous and he'd been fine with them helping him since they were faraway from the action, troubled only by domestic problems (which he himself wanted to deal with. Getting slapped for it in the process). But now they were here, with him, in the middle of mages, faeries and city-wide evil spirits.
How was he going to protect them? Would J be given armor and a sidearm? Would K choose to become a Hunter? If something happened to them while he was in the field, would he make it back in time to save them?
The events of the past 48 hours were enough to mentally exhaust even him. So as J's door closed, he made his way to Kitty's room to see if she was all right. She was asleep, covered in her sheets, the AC on to keep her cool (a luxury he believed they didn't have every night back in the US). He fixed the crumples in her sheets and kissed her on the cheek. Little Kathleen moved ever so slightly, a small smile curling itself on her face.
"Pandorans", they'd said. "She's an alchemist", they'd said. She was his goddaughter was all he could think. She was his ward. He'd never let anything bad happen to her.
And here he was now, with a dark-colored shield resting on J's dining table, the spirit of a dead friend of Hikaru's and Sensei An'yu's deep inside it. "A powerful Pandoran" the file had said. A good friend and a mentor. Someone Sensei An'yu was looking for ways to bring back.
Things were much simpler when he just saw them as those black, shadowy things that wanted to chomp on his skin. When he just hit and shot them before they took a swipe at him. But if this Pandoran could choose to be good, then there really was hope in the world, and his belief that what you were did not define who you are would only be proven further.
He'd been learning a whole lot recently. The world, which he'd traveled more than once over, was much larger than even he had known. It was a bit much to take in. But he'd seen a lot of strange things in his life. They were just finally starting to make sense.
He closed the door to K's room and made his way to the couch downstairs. Sleeping in a bed was still a foreign sensation to him. Sometimes he'd sleep on the floor, the hardness of it making him comfortable as dirt and earth and rocks and sand had been his bed most his life. Some random rock his pillow. He'd been getting used to couches though. It was a start.
He closed his eyes and went to sleep. As soon as he closed them, he felt them open again, his body waking him up automatically because of his training. One hour had passed. He was feeling better. But he never really felt rested.
Everyday was a battle. His life, a war. Maybe being with an actual family would teach him otherwise. Having a team made him comfortable again really. He was starting to feel safer, although having new comrades-in-arms brought with it its own problems. He felt the need to watch over them too.
Too much thinking. Maybe some time training would clear his head, like it was oft to do.
He picked up his Eisenstein's Shield and the Dark Shield of Gintoki, resting the latter on his back where the prior used to rest.
He made his way to the Shatterdome. Passed the hours working on his shield, incorporating what he'd learned from Kaz's grandmother, and from his training in the basics of Lightning song with Wiseman Tagabigay. His shield work wasn't enough. Not nearly. He'd have to improve it. And he had a long way to go.
He switched to his new shield, to learn the weight and balance of it. Then he wielded both.
When he was done, he found his feet taking him toward the Falner Estate, where Inquisitor Orin stayed. It was a cold and lonely morning and he was ever so restless.]
no subject
( I asked the Dovetailor for help.
Oh? With?
Yeah... I... I checked Facebook. The boys kept in touch with you. I'm... I'm glad they did. )
It's not that he never thought of home while he was in Vancouver, but it'd been a life he'd had to bury to keep sane. Awakening as a Sin-Eater in the dead of night with Jonathan Davis standing at the foot of his bed when the man had been dead for over a decade had been a reality he'd had to take in stride, to deal with and accept.
When his geist had told him that they'd needed to go, hesitation had been shelved to keep fear and confusion at bay -- and he'd run. He'd run as fast as he could, kept to the shadows and as out of sight as he could get, offering only his first name and little else because he hadn't wanted people to come looking.
Josh looks up then, turns his attention to Coach -- quiet, as always, and standing off to one side. His geist is never too far away, but he's quiet in a way that Jack Marlowe was not, and sometimes Josh wonders if his former mentor does it deliberately -- keeping quiet and opting to stay as unobtrusive as possible in an effort ( unconscious or otherwise ) to make him feel like he's still that same kid that he was at twenty-one: determined enough not to show how scared he was at what he'd become, at the uncertainty of it all as they made their way towards Yggdrasil's Roots up at the Canadian border.
One of these days, he figures, he's going to have to ask the old man about that, but... not today.
Today, he's alright with sharing the silence, Falner still mostly asleep, give or take the occasional hunter wandering the grounds. ]
if there had been CR with Orin already, I was going to throw-out a voice from above, Brig on Orin.
[ He knows why his feet take him to Orin. He'd read his file.
Assessment --
--Brigade felt he could relate in a way.
He'd read in the Arcanum that most Prometheans had the driving urge to become human. Brigade himself, had never felt that need, having come to life and having been brought up in a unique situation -- his had Disquiet never affected the HECATON, the troops that had given their blood and dogtags in his creation. His Wasteland had never taken effect at the base where Dr. Eisenstein (then already a senile Redeemed) stayed, kept there by his friends out of love and loyalty for him. For all intents and purposes, he'd lived a good part of his early life as a human and thus never felt that same desperation the other of his kind seemed to feel.
It was perplexing. Brigade, in the 122 years of his life, had never come to terms with who or what he was. He simply lived with his condition and dealt with it in ways he felt were efficient.
As he approaches from the distance and sees the gigantic form of Orin come into view, something else catch his eye -- Josh?
He's sweaty and a bit flushed. He'd been jogging. He's out-of-breath. He's out of shape for a former Star Quarterback. All Brigade knows are the little bits and pieces he put together from speaking with Josh -- Josh stopped running, and spent his time in a back kitchen of a restaurant. Josh stopped running cause he died and was only now coming to terms with it. ]
Fancy seeing you here. Here I thought we'd do this after our first jog.
no subject
Hey, man. Good morning. [ He tilts his head to one side in response to the statement, a questioning look sent the older man's way as he turns those words over in his head. ] What do you mean?
[ He really doesn't know. ]
no subject
I mean, I thought we'd end up sitting here by Inquisitor Orin after that morning jog we've been scheduling for so long.
[ He chuckles but notes the thoughtful look on Josh's face. ]
Something on your mind? You look troubled.
no subject
Nah, just... [ he takes the cigarette. ] Just thinking about things. And changes. And home.
[ He slides a look at Brig then, as if to say not Vancouver, but before. ]
OOC: retconning inclusion of Shield of Gintoki. It was never mentioned
[ Brig sits himself down beside Josh and unslings his shield, setting it beside him on the grass ] Want to talk about it?
no subject
Don't know where to start.
[ But he tries. ]
I miss them something fierce, Brig. [ He glances over. ] Four of them I thought of as my brothers from other mothers.
[ He looks down at his hands, counts their names off. ] I'd known Phil since grade school. His mom was as much my mom after... [ trailing off a little at that. ] Anyway. Me and that guy did the whole ringer of middle and high school, and when I got into college, we made a pact to make the team together.
That's where we met Jules and Angel. And then somewhere there, we picked up Greg. He was our water boy. But I trained him myself, told Coach Matt and Pa that if they wanted a Quarterback that they could trust as much as they trusted me, they should give a look in his direction.
no subject
Have you gotten in touch with them? Not just through Cindy? [ He points to Josh's cigarette, which has turned into a bar of ash. ] Or gotten updates from her? I hope they're doing well.
no subject
[ Noting that, tapping his stick out and deciding against lighting another. ] Based on the stuff I read, they seem okay.
She only told them her side of the story: awakening as a Technomancer, getting moved to Frostriver as a result.
no subject
no subject
Just not ready yet, Brig.
[ Too much at once. He wants to pace himself with this.
He has to. ]
no subject
When you're ready to call the play then. [ He smiles and quietly smokes his cigarette, enjoying the company of his blademate ]
no subject
And just as he slides out another cigarette: ]
Mind if I borrow a light?
[ Yeah. He feels better now. ]
omg, it's beautiful, see what I'm going to do here!:)) cf Josh's birthday.:))
For you, man? Always.
[ Brig holds the flame out for Josh to light up with ]