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| No title. |
| (2012-11-23 - 2012-11-24) |
| No description. |
| Auron | Still in Manhattan, it looks like. Or maybe he came back. Who knows? There's something oddly comforting about the city -- even as smelly, dirty, and crime-ridden as it is. So maybe it's no surprise he'd come back. Underneath all of that, the city had a vibrance that attracted him to it. Much like Dream Zanarkand, it never seemed to still; it always seemed to be moving. ...And perhaps the pulse of life itself called to him. The very city itself seemed to be alive, pulsing with a heartbeat of its own. The throb of the electric lights, the beat of music that's far too loud as a car zooms by, the loud growl of engines and machines. It almost seemed to coalesce into a single, rhythmic beat. Of course, he might also be losing his mind and imagining every bit of that. Which, given his state, is a very real possibility. Whatever the reason why, Auron's back in Central Park again. This time he hasn't bothered to maintain the illusion that he's from this place, so he's in his usual outfit now, the gray breastplate and pants with the wide belt holding the red coat closed. And always that left arm is tucked in his coat. The portal isn't too far from the Park, so there's not too much danger of being seen like this. Besides, with the number of world travelers since the worlds all broke, there's probably been a 'weirdo' or two come through. At worst he'd be mistaken for a cosplayer that escaped from his convention. Except for the sword. He's already been busted for that once. What's he doing? Well, nothing, really. he's in an out-of-the-way place in Central Park, just... listening to city life as it passes around him. Watching, as he tends to do, the players in the story around him. |