Solomon Wreath (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peacefullywreathed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2015-04-13 02:41 pm
peacefullywreathed) wrote in tushanshu_logs2015-04-13 02:41 pm
Kneel in silence alone / my spirit bears me
Characters: Solomon Wreath, Raine Sage, OPEN
Date: Month of April, ‘2016’.
Location: Primarily the Midnight Hotel, but potentially elsewhere as well.
Situation: Solomon’s adjusting to new circumstances, like the fact he’s now blind and a part of his soul has detached to act as a filter for his highly addictive magic. Fun.
Warnings/Rating: References to addiction--specifically an addiction to magic--and subsequent withdrawal.
The first five days after the accident, Solomon didn’t leave his room. Not only was there no point, but he was virtually incapable of it; he’d gone into the attempt to filter his magic knowing that he’d come out of it either insane or in withdrawal, and that hadn’t changed just because it hadn’t quite worked. He spent that time alternately too sick to leave the bed and too restless to bear it. It wasn’t until several days into the month of April that he dared to leave, and that was mostly to escape the feeling of being caged.
From the 3rd of April onwards the Hotel patrons will start seeing a tall, dark-haired man about the place. Not exactly an ordinary sight, either—these days Solomon had silver scars scattered around his eyes and face, thin in themselves but in large enough quantity to be clearly visible. They looked exactly as if something had blown up in his face, because something had; if anyone managed to catch him with his sleeves rolled up, they’d see similar laceration scars on his hands and wrists.
The really odd thing about him was that the shadows flocked toward him. Anywhere within ten feet of him, shadows would detached from their owners and gather around his feet like eager puppies, or caressing his fingers whenever he touched the wall. Which was often; the way he moved, the way he walked, it was clear Solomon couldn’t see a thing. Every now and then the shadows would spread out around him, as if scouting the terrain ahead, but even then Solomon’s progress was slow.
The observant would notice that the shadows, having touched Solomon once, would develop an underscoring blue mist which acted, in many ways, like a shadow for the shadows.
Though Solomon had been at the Hotel for months, he was so reclusive that ten to one most of the patrons wouldn’t recognise him, and frankly that was something Solomon was relying on. This was going to be hard enough without people gawking. Luckily he wouldn’t be able to see people gawking—but he’d know it, if only out of paranoia.
For the most part he tried to avoid areas with high traffic, or at least during hours of high traffic; but even still Solomon was potentially visible in the halls, on the balcony over the reception, and in the kitchen or the common-room in particular, drawing shadows around and, occasionally, cursing over a stubbed toe or banged knee. He didn’t seem to be striving to do anything in particular, aside from exploring his surroundings and staunchly ignoring anyone nearby. In the kitchen he was particularly interested in the tea area and finding the blasted fridge.
Regardless of where he was, the kedan gave him a wide berth; the only risk to his public seclusion was, therefore, the Foreigners.
[ooc: As a necromancer, Solomon has a death-sense—he can sense whether or not a person has died before. Due to progress in-game he’s also able to extend that to a sense of a person’s soul, though at the time of this log he isn’t able to tell anything more than whether or not there are large pieces missing (so your character’s emotional secrets are safe!). Please let me know if your character fits into this category through PM or a short ooc note.]
Date: Month of April, ‘2016’.
Location: Primarily the Midnight Hotel, but potentially elsewhere as well.
Situation: Solomon’s adjusting to new circumstances, like the fact he’s now blind and a part of his soul has detached to act as a filter for his highly addictive magic. Fun.
Warnings/Rating: References to addiction--specifically an addiction to magic--and subsequent withdrawal.
The first five days after the accident, Solomon didn’t leave his room. Not only was there no point, but he was virtually incapable of it; he’d gone into the attempt to filter his magic knowing that he’d come out of it either insane or in withdrawal, and that hadn’t changed just because it hadn’t quite worked. He spent that time alternately too sick to leave the bed and too restless to bear it. It wasn’t until several days into the month of April that he dared to leave, and that was mostly to escape the feeling of being caged.
From the 3rd of April onwards the Hotel patrons will start seeing a tall, dark-haired man about the place. Not exactly an ordinary sight, either—these days Solomon had silver scars scattered around his eyes and face, thin in themselves but in large enough quantity to be clearly visible. They looked exactly as if something had blown up in his face, because something had; if anyone managed to catch him with his sleeves rolled up, they’d see similar laceration scars on his hands and wrists.
The really odd thing about him was that the shadows flocked toward him. Anywhere within ten feet of him, shadows would detached from their owners and gather around his feet like eager puppies, or caressing his fingers whenever he touched the wall. Which was often; the way he moved, the way he walked, it was clear Solomon couldn’t see a thing. Every now and then the shadows would spread out around him, as if scouting the terrain ahead, but even then Solomon’s progress was slow.
The observant would notice that the shadows, having touched Solomon once, would develop an underscoring blue mist which acted, in many ways, like a shadow for the shadows.
Though Solomon had been at the Hotel for months, he was so reclusive that ten to one most of the patrons wouldn’t recognise him, and frankly that was something Solomon was relying on. This was going to be hard enough without people gawking. Luckily he wouldn’t be able to see people gawking—but he’d know it, if only out of paranoia.
For the most part he tried to avoid areas with high traffic, or at least during hours of high traffic; but even still Solomon was potentially visible in the halls, on the balcony over the reception, and in the kitchen or the common-room in particular, drawing shadows around and, occasionally, cursing over a stubbed toe or banged knee. He didn’t seem to be striving to do anything in particular, aside from exploring his surroundings and staunchly ignoring anyone nearby. In the kitchen he was particularly interested in the tea area and finding the blasted fridge.
Regardless of where he was, the kedan gave him a wide berth; the only risk to his public seclusion was, therefore, the Foreigners.
[ooc: As a necromancer, Solomon has a death-sense—he can sense whether or not a person has died before. Due to progress in-game he’s also able to extend that to a sense of a person’s soul, though at the time of this log he isn’t able to tell anything more than whether or not there are large pieces missing (so your character’s emotional secrets are safe!). Please let me know if your character fits into this category through PM or a short ooc note.]
Early-to-mid April;
And of course, the blueish mist of a living ka.
Neither of which seemed to have helped him avoid banging his shins on the kitchen island.
"I understand parents put soft pads on the corners of furniture now, to protect toddlers. Maybe we should invest in some."
no subject
There was still something tragic about it, knowing why Solomon could barely sense him even knowing he was there.
"Isn't that a parental responsibility?" he shot back, and lifted his head with a sigh, his hands exploring the edge of the counter. He kept missing it. He knew it was there, but it was a looming elephant in the room's physical dimensions that he kept overlooking.
Why was Bakura there? he wondered. Doubtful for Solomon, and particularly given that seeing someone else's ka brought back painful memories of his own. Possibly on Raine's behalf, unasked. Which reminded Solomon: "Thank you for your advice before," he said, moving around the counter, counting his steps. "It was wrong, or so Raine rather emphatically told me, but I doubt I'd have approached her about it at all if you hadn't said anything."
no subject
There's an amused exhale at Solomon's thanks and assertion that his advice had been wrong. The sound would almost be lost in the ambient pulse of the Hotel, if not for the proximity and the likelihood that the necromancer's remaining senses were probably in overdrive at the moment.
"I know you wouldn't have," he replied, which of course begged the question whether he'd intentionally skewed the advice so much as to force Solomon to need to address it with Raine. "I guess it's good that got cleared up, hm?"
no subject
Still, the action was easier to think about than ... well, the thought. "Whatever are you here for? Should I be flattered?"
Dryly. He was under no delusions about which of the couple, or even the trio, Bakura would rather talk to.
no subject
"I doubt flattered is even in your repertoire of emotions," Bakura answered. "Although I suppose you are learning new things lately. You're a walking beacon to the Ring; well, a stumbling one, at least. Do you think I wandered in here by mistake? I have something for you."
no subject
He spoke with a kind of long-sufferingly righteous indignation, but falsely, fully aware of how ridiculous it sounded and, indeed, how ridiculous the situation had actually been. He was more intrigued by what the 'something' could be. The zombie bird he'd paid Bakura with, months ago? Solomon didn't know what had happened to that during the Foreigners' mass disappearance; maybe Bakura had gotten it back from whatever cage the kedan had put it into.
no subject
That made two of them that didn't know where the bird had gone off to. It existed; Bakura occasionally felt a twinge he suspected it caused, but in light of the way he'd returned, and who'd had a hand in it, he hadn't given had any disposition to track the creature down.
"It's actually something will give a few more teeth to something you already have. Hold out your hand."
/stealth tags from work
"My hand doesn't need any teeth in it," Solomon said, lifting an eyebrow, but he turned to lean back against the counter--so he didn't lose it again--and obeyed, holding it in Bakura's general direction.
I C U THAR
"Ka are strongest when they have an anchor in the real world," Bakura said. "And cards are a lot more convenient than stone slabs. You might find yours able to do a few new tricks, now."
shh
His fingers closed around the card and he turned it over in his hands until he remembered Bakura's deck, and realised what it was. And it was startling, that it was so unexpectedly appropriate. Solomon hadn't thought they'd reached that point yet.
"What sort of tricks?" he asked, because although he knew how Bakura had used the cards to help him summon his monsters--and that they weren't strictly necessary; Solomon had been able to do the same, with more difficulty--he hadn't quite realised that just having the cards broadened their individual scope of ability so much.
Then he added, his brow furrowing: "Why?"
nope nope
no subject
He almost asked whether Raine had something to do with this, and probably she did, but it wouldn't serve anything to point it out. Bakura didn't do anything he didn't want to do. Even if Raine had made the suggestion, Bakura wouldn't have followed through if he hadn't meant it after some fashion--if only to make sure Solomon didn't become a threat.
Instead he just said, quietly, "Thank you."
no subject
"Someone has to make sure you don't lose the thing."
no subject
Solomon's fingers closed around the card. Last time he'd thought a relationship was broken, he hadn't done anything; he'd let Skulduggery walk away. Not this time. Even necromancers could learn from their mistakes.
"I'm sorry," he said, equally quietly. "However we disagree about the state of your being, I do understand that I took the one choice in your existence away from you. I am sorry, for that."
He couldn't be sure how Bakura would take it. It could be seen as a hollow response to an unexpected gift. But Solomon didn't usually think much of gratitude or apologies, and Bakura might not have forgotten that; and if this was the only opportunity he got to say that, then at least it was said.
no subject
"Well," he said finally, moving away from the counter. "It can't be changed now. Be sure to let your ka figure out its new abilities once you're feeling up to it."
And he turned, his footsteps on the floor indicating his direction toward the door.
no subject