Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bearshermark) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2021-08-15 02:22 pm
bearshermark) wrote in westwhere2021-08-15 02:22 pm
I'm unable to breathe amongst the crowds of frozen people
WHO: Eleven & OPEN
WHEN: possibly the whole arc?
WHERE: Taravast, various
WHAT: A catch-all!
WARNINGS: Will be added!
1. Of The People
Eleven took swiftly to formal meditation. It was a bit like prayer, he reasoned, just with more inward focus and for considerably longer. The only problem being an inability to easily drown out any variety of distracting noise.
But during one of his many walks through the city, he came across a small, modest garden almost hidden behind a block of crammed buildings. It was little more than an arrangement of green shrubs, scant patches of grass, and a swath of overgrown vines creeping over the far wall toward a thin strip of canal on the other side. Squashed between two lines of buildings as it was, the garden found itself shaded over for most of the day, but for a few short hours.
And for those precious hours of sun, it was perfect. The hidden oasis feel of it let him shed his mask and local wear, stuffing the garments into the charmed bag Lily had given him and free to sit in the grass comfortably in his own clothes. Bare face tipped toward the sun and the grass warm beneath him, he breathed and peace reigned so exquisitely that falling into that quiet focus was nearly effortless. It only took visualizing the sun's gentle warmth and the breath of life in the grass soaking into him to banish those lingering, wayward thoughts.
After an untold amount of time that was surely more than the requisite hour, Eleven found himself relaxed enough to lounge back in the grass, very nearly dozing. Probably, he shouldn't nap here. He was due at court soon enough, but.. surely, it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a short spell..
2. Court
The masks, Eleven decided, were off-putting. It was difficult enough to recognize the people he knew through them, and made conversation twice as difficult. People's expressions hidden, the tone or inflection of their voice distorted by full masks.. as though he weren't already out of his depth.
Although his spiritual healing classes meant a little less time spent around court than most, it was still exhausting. Surrounded by people he didn't know and roped into hollow conversations while attempting to feign interest in a political cause he could care less about.. All for the sake of maintaining an image that he was beginning to suspect wasn't unique to just their group. Everyone was hiding; everyone wanted something.
Half-heard conversations washed over him, strung together with words that either meant absolutely nothing or were inlaid with a meaning that could only be divined with enough context. For the first time, Eleven found himself grateful for his conversations with Lan Wangji- at least he could discern that much. And, having adopted a basic level of formal functioning as the Luminary, he only hoped it would be enough to endure.
Presently, Eleven found himself harried by a handful of men peppering him with questions about horses, then having heated debates about his answers. It took some time to understand they only cared because of some bets they'd placed on a race. He'd attempted to dissuade further questions by insisting he wasn't an expert in all things horse-related, but it only served to conjure up debates about whether or not he was right, or how sure he was about things.
"Forgive me," he interjected with some emphasis once he'd finally drummed up the courage to recite the rehearsed line. "There's someone I need to speak to before we convene for the day."
Which, as far as excuses go, he hoped it wasn't terribly obvious that it was a complete lie. Wary of eyes following him, Eleven attempted to look like he knew exactly where he was going, increasingly desperate to find someone in his line of sight that looked even vaguely like they might be expecting him.
3. Library
On gloomy days, Eleven took his studies to the palace library, attempting to commit the information on the papers in front of him to memory. But surrounded by bookshelves holding what promised to be far less dry material, he inevitably found himself perusing the shelves and indulging his newfound ability to read anything and everything over his actual work.
Titles of various books pulled from the shelves often had some apparent link to religion, mystical flora, or life and death. And sometimes, they were simply memoirs of someone that sounded vaguely interesting. It felt like being at the Sniflheim Royal Library, but without the threat of monsters.
Pleased with his current selection, Eleven wandered back over to a desk, then paused to find someone else sitting there.
"Ah... mind if I join you?"
4. Courtyard
On pleasant days, the palace courtyard served well enough. Unwilling to bring any books outside, Eleven made considerably more progress in reading through his lesson material. He compromised with a half-mask to appease any locals drifting through as he sat quietly on a bench, half-lounging and only intermittently distracted by his surroundings.
That was of course, until an unexpected wind took the few sheets set beside him and scattered them a short distance away.
With a gasp, Eleven pursued them, snatching the sheets before they could drift too far away- or Goddess-forbid, fall into the fountain- then watched as one landed at a person's feet. He followed their figure up to a mask, feeling sheepish and not quite bold enough to reach for it despite his outstretched hand.
"..Sorry to bother you, but ah, that's my paper on poultices.."
5. Gondola by Night
Dressed down in a familiar coat only his former companions would recognize with a purple half-mask to match, Eleven rowed sedately through dark waters reflecting the night sky.
The gondolas were larger and the water deeper than what he remembered from Gondolia, but he took to his perceived role as a ferryman with far more comfort than he had the cloak of nobility. He'd even become reasonably good at it, and while he had coin enough, the tips came as a nice bonus.
Eleven glanced up as a passenger dismounted and caught sight of someone standing near the edge of the canal.
"Can I take you across the water?"
6. City Offerings
It wouldn't be a proper visit to a new city without trying out the various restaurants and bars on offer. And once he had two masks and accidentally acquisitioned something like a second identity, it was less stressful to talk to people without as much concern for reputation. The place he'd chosen tonight was busy, and tables were swiftly filling to the point of even pairing strangers together. Just as well; the bar was full and eating on his own was far less enjoyable.
Certainly, it would have been nice if he could easily enjoy the company of those he'd befriended despite political affiliation, but Eleven buried such concerns beneath a drink or two and focused on enjoying a delightful meal and buoyant atmosphere.
He raised his mug in a friendly salute to the person forced to join him.
"Hope you're having a pleasant night so far."
7. Wildcard??
[ooc: feel free to hit me up with anything adjacent to these prompts, or if you'd like to work out something specific, Eleven's plotting post is here!
Happy to adapt to action tags or prose!]
WHEN: possibly the whole arc?
WHERE: Taravast, various
WHAT: A catch-all!
WARNINGS: Will be added!
1. Of The People
Eleven took swiftly to formal meditation. It was a bit like prayer, he reasoned, just with more inward focus and for considerably longer. The only problem being an inability to easily drown out any variety of distracting noise.
But during one of his many walks through the city, he came across a small, modest garden almost hidden behind a block of crammed buildings. It was little more than an arrangement of green shrubs, scant patches of grass, and a swath of overgrown vines creeping over the far wall toward a thin strip of canal on the other side. Squashed between two lines of buildings as it was, the garden found itself shaded over for most of the day, but for a few short hours.
And for those precious hours of sun, it was perfect. The hidden oasis feel of it let him shed his mask and local wear, stuffing the garments into the charmed bag Lily had given him and free to sit in the grass comfortably in his own clothes. Bare face tipped toward the sun and the grass warm beneath him, he breathed and peace reigned so exquisitely that falling into that quiet focus was nearly effortless. It only took visualizing the sun's gentle warmth and the breath of life in the grass soaking into him to banish those lingering, wayward thoughts.
After an untold amount of time that was surely more than the requisite hour, Eleven found himself relaxed enough to lounge back in the grass, very nearly dozing. Probably, he shouldn't nap here. He was due at court soon enough, but.. surely, it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a short spell..
2. Court
The masks, Eleven decided, were off-putting. It was difficult enough to recognize the people he knew through them, and made conversation twice as difficult. People's expressions hidden, the tone or inflection of their voice distorted by full masks.. as though he weren't already out of his depth.
Although his spiritual healing classes meant a little less time spent around court than most, it was still exhausting. Surrounded by people he didn't know and roped into hollow conversations while attempting to feign interest in a political cause he could care less about.. All for the sake of maintaining an image that he was beginning to suspect wasn't unique to just their group. Everyone was hiding; everyone wanted something.
Half-heard conversations washed over him, strung together with words that either meant absolutely nothing or were inlaid with a meaning that could only be divined with enough context. For the first time, Eleven found himself grateful for his conversations with Lan Wangji- at least he could discern that much. And, having adopted a basic level of formal functioning as the Luminary, he only hoped it would be enough to endure.
Presently, Eleven found himself harried by a handful of men peppering him with questions about horses, then having heated debates about his answers. It took some time to understand they only cared because of some bets they'd placed on a race. He'd attempted to dissuade further questions by insisting he wasn't an expert in all things horse-related, but it only served to conjure up debates about whether or not he was right, or how sure he was about things.
"Forgive me," he interjected with some emphasis once he'd finally drummed up the courage to recite the rehearsed line. "There's someone I need to speak to before we convene for the day."
Which, as far as excuses go, he hoped it wasn't terribly obvious that it was a complete lie. Wary of eyes following him, Eleven attempted to look like he knew exactly where he was going, increasingly desperate to find someone in his line of sight that looked even vaguely like they might be expecting him.
3. Library
On gloomy days, Eleven took his studies to the palace library, attempting to commit the information on the papers in front of him to memory. But surrounded by bookshelves holding what promised to be far less dry material, he inevitably found himself perusing the shelves and indulging his newfound ability to read anything and everything over his actual work.
Titles of various books pulled from the shelves often had some apparent link to religion, mystical flora, or life and death. And sometimes, they were simply memoirs of someone that sounded vaguely interesting. It felt like being at the Sniflheim Royal Library, but without the threat of monsters.
Pleased with his current selection, Eleven wandered back over to a desk, then paused to find someone else sitting there.
"Ah... mind if I join you?"
4. Courtyard
On pleasant days, the palace courtyard served well enough. Unwilling to bring any books outside, Eleven made considerably more progress in reading through his lesson material. He compromised with a half-mask to appease any locals drifting through as he sat quietly on a bench, half-lounging and only intermittently distracted by his surroundings.
That was of course, until an unexpected wind took the few sheets set beside him and scattered them a short distance away.
With a gasp, Eleven pursued them, snatching the sheets before they could drift too far away- or Goddess-forbid, fall into the fountain- then watched as one landed at a person's feet. He followed their figure up to a mask, feeling sheepish and not quite bold enough to reach for it despite his outstretched hand.
"..Sorry to bother you, but ah, that's my paper on poultices.."
5. Gondola by Night
Dressed down in a familiar coat only his former companions would recognize with a purple half-mask to match, Eleven rowed sedately through dark waters reflecting the night sky.
The gondolas were larger and the water deeper than what he remembered from Gondolia, but he took to his perceived role as a ferryman with far more comfort than he had the cloak of nobility. He'd even become reasonably good at it, and while he had coin enough, the tips came as a nice bonus.
Eleven glanced up as a passenger dismounted and caught sight of someone standing near the edge of the canal.
"Can I take you across the water?"
6. City Offerings
It wouldn't be a proper visit to a new city without trying out the various restaurants and bars on offer. And once he had two masks and accidentally acquisitioned something like a second identity, it was less stressful to talk to people without as much concern for reputation. The place he'd chosen tonight was busy, and tables were swiftly filling to the point of even pairing strangers together. Just as well; the bar was full and eating on his own was far less enjoyable.
Certainly, it would have been nice if he could easily enjoy the company of those he'd befriended despite political affiliation, but Eleven buried such concerns beneath a drink or two and focused on enjoying a delightful meal and buoyant atmosphere.
He raised his mug in a friendly salute to the person forced to join him.
"Hope you're having a pleasant night so far."
7. Wildcard??
[ooc: feel free to hit me up with anything adjacent to these prompts, or if you'd like to work out something specific, Eleven's plotting post is here!
Happy to adapt to action tags or prose!]
no subject
"Motive doesn't really matter when things get that bad, yeah? If they were as good and honorable as they claimed to be, they wouldn't be doing it in the first place."
no subject
no subject
Well, it was good to know Eleven understood. He didn't need to belabor the point, then. "Still, they're not here. It's kind of nice." He managed a crooked smile. "Y'know, when we're not being attacked by dead people."
no subject
"I wish this world was a kinder one, but death is taking it. I wonder if there's anything we can do."
no subject
But that didn't mean he was going to be an ass about it while he was here. After all, people who could fight, should fight.
...Which was another line from the propaganda. Hells, his brain really was full of it. "Anybody who wants to fight, should fight." That was better.
no subject
"It's just a fight I'm not sure where best to start."
no subject
He gestured to the books. "And the studying you're doing is good for that. We've run into all sorts of stuff that messes with your head, right? We'll need somebody who knows how to snap people out of it."
no subject
"That's the idea. If I can do this much, it'll help. And maybe then, if needed, we can help defend this city so it doesn't fall to death as well."