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Eldritch

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Falling into the Black

Postby Gale Austin McCenry on December 23rd, 2013, 7:13 am

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Common Vani Nari

20th of Winter, 513 A.V.
Docks
Once upon a twilight haze, with his heart heavy, and his mind ablaze with the thoughts of the day, a pair of lone feet padded quietly across the stone street of the sleeping city. His arms hugged his chest tightly, fighting the cold, chilled winds of the night while his green eyes starred at the gray on the ground beneath his feet. It would be difficult to discern whether this lone man was a homeless man, aimlessly wondering the street, or if he was a sailor just waiting for the sun. The green shirt that covered his chest was tattered around the sleeves and hadn't been washed of dirt, and appeared to have stains. The black pants had holes about it's right thigh and was also ripped around the ankles. He had no cloak or coat to protect him from the winds of the ocean and his shoes appeared to be worn one day too many. Although the bedraggled clothes were signs of either or, the emaciated young man hardly had any muscle on his bones, hardly resembling any self-respecting sailor.

However, it was of no concern to anyone besides the occasional Wave Guard, which were often times content enough to leave him be when he told them that he lived with young Ricky Maze. They would continue on their route and the lonesome artist would continue his way down to the docks.

The day light that was present just bells ago was spent away locked up in that room. He crumpled and tossed dozens of paper and even wasted half an ink bottle in attempts to recreate his feelings and his troubles to the young father. However, there was no reasonable way to expatiate those reasons, and making the reasons vague would bring about lies and assumptions. Once day had fallen, the murderer decided against explaining himself. It was a selfish thing, he understood, for even if he did leave a note of his leaving, it would still be selfish. There was no evading that. But the unemployed artist decided they didn't need to hear his loquacity or repining of his lamentations. Besides, Ricky had more important matters to discuss and to worry about. Telion and Martin were more important. They would also be close to Ricky's heart. He couldn't distracted him from that. The artist knew better than anyone, that if you get distracted from what's important, even for a moment, it'll be lost and you'll never get it back. It was a harsh reality, but that's how the world ticks.

Gale limped along the ocean's edge silently, lifting his head to scout for a pier or an empty dock. It took almost no time at all and the forlorn man walked along the wooden planks until he met the edge with a sigh. The plebeian observed the calm, ever moving water as his mind started with it's final introspection. It was abstruse as to why, but Gale remembered doing this exact thing before when he went to jump out his window. Was it always this way? For others too? Does one always look into their inner self, their memories, their thoughts before passing? There was no way to be sure, but he supposed there was a reason. Maybe he did it to assure himself that this was the right thing to do. That there wasn't any better solutions. Perhaps he was trying to remember so he had something to take with him. Into the darkness. Into the unknown. Maybe it would be comforting to think about something while taking you're last breath. Anything would do, he supposed. Better than thinking about water filling up your lungs. Anything would be better than thinking about how it feels.

Gale looked down at the freezing water below him. The cloudy sky gave off little light. But even if the sky were clear, the stars weren't nearly enough to light up the darkness of the ocean's depth. The black was intimidating, much like an edifice, but more venerable. Ethereal at times, however. The soft rumbling of it's waves off into the distance mollified the Zeltivan on many occasion, and even on this night it appears to take his fear and rage away. Though the sorrow refused to leave his mind. It was anchored onto his heart, and no matter what memories tried to take it away, it remained.

Gale and his sadness stood there for many chimes. Perhaps even bells. It was like war inside his own being, which refused to end. He took a few paces back, uncrossing his arms and letting them hang by his side. The Zeltivan's mouth was pressed into a line and his eyes starred at the black water ahead of him. His eyes closed. He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Inhale, exhale. His eyes opened.

The artist started running towards the edge of the pier. Granted it was an awkward run, and certainly not the fasted, for his limp prevented it from being so, but it was a run in his mind. It was short lived, however, for Gale skid to a stop before he attempted to leap off the edge. Embarrassed, he turned around and groaned loudly.

What was that?! That was pathetic! "You could not even jump off a dock." Gale ran his hands through his hair. Scared of water, pfft. "You jumped out of a window, why not off a pier?" It's not that hard! You don't even need to run and jump. Just one step would be good. The blonde put his hands on his hips and shook his head lightly, pacing a short distance on the dock. Alright, alright, you were scared. You were scared last time too. How is it any different? You jumped off of something last time too. "But that was ground, and someone caught you." No one would be catching you this time. There is no one around this time . Besides, when she dropped you on the ground, it hurt. It wouldn't hurt to fall into the ocean. It would just be water. "The dock goes out deep enough for it to just be water." Gale looked back over to the water slowly rolling up and down. The dock did go out far enough that he probably wouldn't touch the bed.

Gale straightened himself out and balled his hands in fists- or, partial fists, and took another deep breath. "You can do this." His lips whispered softly. Once again, his eyes closed. "It will be alright." He took several chimes to breath in slowly. What he planned on accomplishing by this, he didn't know, for whatever benefits of breathing in slowly had on him vanished once he started sprinting. Almost tripping along the way, the artist ran towards the edge. With an overly exaggerated grunt, Gale leaped off the edge.
Last edited by Gale Austin McCenry on February 19th, 2014, 5:05 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Falling into the Black

Postby Eldritch on December 27th, 2013, 10:58 pm

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OOCSorry this took so long, needed to wait for a PM from someone. I should be much quicker now.

Gale crashed into the black abyss, plunging into the deep waters of Matthew's Bay. Perhaps he had second thoughts during the short fall, or perhaps numbing terror had fallen over him as though he were unable to believe this was happening. Regardless it was and now that he was in the literal deep in with no one to help him there was no turning back. Perhaps that was what Gale had wanted all along.

He could struggle and scream but there was no one in the immediate area to here him, he was alone in this and it was his mess. Eventually he would fall beneath the waves and his lungs would fill with the salty water of the Bay, burning down his throat and his nose. It would hurt, though was it but a small pain compared to the relief that would come? That was up to Gale to decide, what was sure is that this was probably only going to end one way.

It wouldn't be long from then that the corners of his vision would start to blacken, that his entire body would start to numb. Dira's embrace was approaching Gale quickly, the end that he had so craved. Whether he still wanted it or not was only known to him, whether the pain had turned him away or not.

Before the blackness took him entirely and he knew no more the man would fell something brush against his shoulder and something wrap around his arms. It felt warm, the only warmth in this cold water and near the cold embrace of death. It would feel comforting to the artist before he blacked out and the world was gone from him.

=================================================================

The first thing Gale would know was the warmth, a small consolation as seawater rushed out from his lungs in coughing gasps. His whole body would feel chilled, his vision blurry and his muscles didn't function properly. It would be a while before he would be able to sit up without flares of pain burning through him.

As his vision cleared he would notice first the outline of and then the full vision of a woman peering down at him, her expression slightly concerned but more melancholic than anything else. She was clad in white robes, her face fair and dark hair wet around her face. The warm glow radiated from her, a comforting thing against the chill that had existed in the Bay.

When she spoke her voice was quiet and calm, though there was some underlying of concern evident. Perhaps she was a priestess of some god or another, though it was evident that Gale was alive. If he looked to the side he would see the distant silhouette of Zeltiva, indicating they were on the beach of Matthews Bay.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

It was a simple question, but one that perhaps Gale needed to ponder more deeply than the obvious. If he chose to respond his voice would be hoarse and weak, burning each time he spoke. The soreness was certainly pretty bad all things considered.
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Falling into the Black

Postby Gale Austin McCenry on December 29th, 2013, 2:03 am

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Common Vani Nari
Thousands of thoughts urgently surged to his mind in that moment. The moment when he jumped, starring at the blackness that the ocean held. Some where nugatory things, such as the cold winds of the winter air. Others were more pertinent, such as whether someone was watching him from afar. Whether there were predators lurking at the bottom. The man managed to keep the thoughts about Ricky and Telion and Martin distant, thankfully, for those might have change his mind, even though it was too late now.

Gale plunged into the water with nothing more than a splash. What little heat he had managed to gather on the walk there instantly evaporated into the water as the waves chilled his skin. The bitter cold almost forced the Zeltivan to become frozen, stuck for several ticks to slowly float into the gloomy shadows. It wasn't until his eyes opened, starring at the green water above him that he started to move. The sight, to Gale's astonishment, actually stayed, unlike what he predicted; his eyes instantly shutting, burning from the salt. The shifting green water above him, that slowly grew further and further away, almost amazed him. It was almost like he was caught in a trance. But for whatever reason, his gaze turned below him, looking into the black abyss.

The dark was almost like a crude wake up call, for once his eyes had lain on the pitch below him, his lungs seared in fear; or was it rage? The artist's hands and arms started to swish around in trepidation. His green eyes yanked his head back up to look at the surface. The trepidation quickly escalated to panic as his arms started to flail in the watery atmosphere. The murderer's legs kicked, feeling nothing below his feet. His hands grasped the water, attempting to pull himself up with something. Anything.

Gale's lungs felt like fire consuming him from the inside. They blazed in anguish as Gale desperately thrashed in the water. They urged him to take a breath, to open his mouth and inhale the air that was so distant from him. But they didn't care how far away he was. They took over his mind and body and forced his mouth agape, his nose and mouth taking in the iced water in acceptance only to realize that the water fueled the fire within him. His body instinctively convulsed, attempting the cough out the hazardous substance, only to suck more in. Water filled his lungs in only a short moment, and with that, his movements slowed to almost an instant halt.

The last bubbles of air floated quickly to the surface, leaving the man to his fate. The green eyes starred at his hand, outstretched in front of him, reaching for the surface. A black haze crept up in the corners of his vision, surrounding it in preparation for an ambush. It crawled up his arm, blurring out his vain attempt to survive.

Then... For just a moment... He felt something. On his shoulder. A fish maybe? Was it the ocean's bed? It was brief but... There it was again! It wrapped around his waist. It was warm. Like the small flame of a candle.

Then the candle was blown out.

The Zeltivan was left in the dark. Even with boundless imagination, he couldn't have predicted the feeling of black. All Gale knew was that it was dark... and cold... His lungs where likely nothing more than a charred shell that was consumed by the flames inside him. As a matter of fact, the man himself was likely nothing more than a shell. A moment in history to be lost in the ocean's depth. The cold engulfed him, more than just to the bone. It was as if he was the cold. And nothing else. Just cold.

_____________________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________________

Returning from dark places were nothing less than a challenge. Where there was dark, there was obstacles. One must go around those obstacles in order to reach the light at the end of the tunnel. However difficult it was to navigate the cold, the greater the reward was upon existing the black. For children, darkness was like the end. They hide under their covers and cower in the safety of their bed until day broke, giving them another day to live. Which was natural. Children exaggerated evil things of the sort. They grow out of it as they grow, and once an adult, the thought of the dark bringing you your last day leaves.

Gale never did think he would ever believe that light was a savior again, since he outgrew the stages of being afraid of the dark. But once the warm water left his lungs, splashing on his chest and the ground, and his eyes wearily opened, he felt like the light had saved him. Though his vision was nothing blurred lines, he saw once again.

But something did strike him as strange. For even after the vile liquid was expelled from his agony filled lungs, he still felt like he couldn't breath. That might just be a side affect of drowning, however, for the blonde man wheezed, and heaved and coughed. And it appeared that it didn't stop, even when his chest and stomach begged him to. They were in misery. As a matter of fact, his entire body laid there in torment. Even breathing in the cool air was like inhaling needles, and with every convulsive cough, he felt like he was being stabbed.

Gale's view slowly cleared, and his eyes glanced around him, first seeing the outline of the city he had known and loved. Next, with a slight, but torturous tilt of his head, a women. A women in white.

Her black hair clung to her snow white face. She looked about as wet as he was, but not nearly as cold, for his body shivered, unlike her...Although... it appeared the longer he starred, the warmer he got. It wasn't anything similar to a fire, or a heavy blanket, but it was more than enough for him.

The stranger gave a typical response, which was to question whether he was alright, in which, Gale didn't know how to respond, nor did he want to. His ceaseless coughing and wheezing prevented him from getting a breath that he was comfortable with, let alone speak. Nevertheless, the artist closed his eyes and pondered the question, as if she questioned the meaning of life. Not that he got much thinking done with his wheezing.
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Falling into the Black

Postby Eldritch on December 29th, 2013, 2:51 am

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The woman watched Gale as he suffered, biting her lower lip as though fighting with two states of mind. Finally she seemed to reach some decision and gingerly placed a hand on Gale's chest, the warmth enveloping him. Gradually the artist would feel the soreness fade as the warmth fought against it, his throat gaining some clarity though it still feel a bit rough. He could actually slowly attempt to move, his limbs a little tender and sore but no where near the pain he'd previously possessed.

Quickly she removed her hand from his chest, sighing a little and staring impassively down at then artist. Slowly she helped him rise into a sitting position, her grip far more strong than it should have been for a woman with her outwardly gentle appearance. Her touch sent more comforting warmth through his body, indeed he would feel a slight rising of something in his heart. Positive and almost hopeful feelings.

"There. You seem to look a bit better, you certainly wear the soaking wet look better than I." The dark haired woman said, though her tone was rather grave.

She sat back and stared at Gale for a time before shaking her head in something akin to disbelief.

"I'll be honest, I didn't think you would actually jump. Then again, you haven't had an easy time of life lately." She said sadly.

The woman gazed off into the sky as though searching for something, her eyes falling upon Gale once more. The artist would have control over his ability to talk, it would be a bit scratchy and he would feel rather thirsty but he had control of his faculties. The woman didn't say much else and likely wouldn't unless Gale was ready to attempt to respond, she was patient if nothing else.

Of course, if one took the time to they might wonder just what that warmth had been that had cast away the pain. Was she a healer perhaps? A priestess of Rak'keli? That was up to Gale to ponder.
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Falling into the Black

Postby Gale Austin McCenry on December 29th, 2013, 9:49 pm

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Gale, while the stranger pondered, tried his best to take deep breaths. After all, there was nothing else he could do, unless he wanted to stand and make his way to the infirmary, or back home, with the women by his side. But that likely wouldn't be possible until-

...Until she put her hand on his chest.

There was hardly an way for the man to describe the feeling of relief he felt as everything seemed to melt away. The warmth that emitted from her hand like... lifted the pain off his shoulders? In a way? Like it took it away. He couldn't describe it, then again, Gale was never good at describing things. He only drew them. And he doubted there was any way to express relief in a drawing. At least on that level.

Because of her touch, the needles that he felt in his throat vanished, leaving only a mere, typical sore throat. A bad one at that, but still significantly less painful than before. His coughing and wheezing stopped along with this, leaving behind the feeling of thirst, and even the aching pain in his muscles dwindled down to something much more bearable.

Gale opened his eyes and looked at the woman in white with something similar to shock or curiosity, which indeed he was. He was more than surprised by the power that this woman had, and as such, was curious to know more. Things such as why she bothered with him and how in the petching world did she do that. Especially the later. There had to be a logical reason for it. No mere nurse could do such a thing. She has to have more power than that. Perhaps a follower of Rak'keli. He's heard stories of their healing on one or two occasions. But didn't followers have markings? He couldn't spot any of the such on her fair skin. Maybe it was hidden under her clothes, or on her back. A place where he couldn't see it?

The plebeian cautiously pulled his arms up to his side, careful to stop in case the pain returned, which he didn't want to believe would happen. But in this situation, anything seemed possible. The soreness was nothing more than if he exercised roughly the previous day, leaving him to only wince when he brought his legs up and started to push himself to sit, in which the stranger aided him. Which was also strange, for most women with such an appearance were gentle, and hardly ever shown any sort of abundance of physical strength, but this woman did. She must pull a lot of drunk sailors out of the water in order to be that strong.

Gale smirked at the thought of the fragile looking women bringing bulky sailors to shore after finally sitting up with her aid. He felt much better after sitting up. Even the mood appeared to lighten, despite that almost tragic occurrence. The blonde looked at her with a soft smile. Though, he wasn't sure why he was smiling. The fact that she saved his life? Maybe it was just him thinking about the drunk sailors again. No matter why he was smiling, it felt better to smile anyway. It felt like years since he last did so.

The woman moved on from her original question, and decided for herself that he was fine. Probably since she healed him herself. Which was a decent assumption for he certainly was better than just moments ago. He didn't really feel cold either, mostly from the warmth she gave off with her touch, until she mentioned being soaking wet. He wanted to laugh at the comment, but managed to keep it down to just a grin, for the lady didn't seem too happy about that fact. In all honesty, he wasn't too happy about it either, for not only was he soaked to the bone, she was as well.

Unlike the first time, there was a moment of silence between the abandoner and the savior. Which he was glad, for if she started threatening to cut off any part of him, he wouldn't be exceptionally joyous. Gale's eyes watched her for a moment before turning to the water that rolled onto the sand before rolling back out to the sea. What light from the moon that managed to peak through the clouds glistened once it hit the water. The light was much different from under water than it was on the surface, but both perspectives gave off a certain aura, certain tone and mood. Gale couldn't put his finger one what that aura was specifically, but there was one. Each slightly different. But no matter, his curiosity turned back to the woman, who certainly had more to her than meets the eye.

"What?" How did she know his life recently has been rough? Was she assuming because of his attempt, or from his scars? Or did she actually know what happened to him? He never expected followers of Rak'keli to be stalkers, but then again, if it means to heal someone, he supposed it was reasonable... But still creepy. "What do you know about it?" Although Gale meant for it to be a simple question of what she knew about the situation, it could have possible come off as a sarcastic response. He hoped it didn't come off that way though, or so help him, she might just...un...heal him? Was that even possible? Well, he didn't want to find out, so he attempted to 'fix' it to make it sound more friendly. "Have you been watching me?"
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Falling into the Black

Postby Eldritch on January 1st, 2014, 11:09 pm

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The woman smiled sadly, brushing a wet strand of dark hair from her face as she did. There was something almost melancholic about her, and also something hesitant as though she was burdened with a secret that she wanted no one else to know. It looked like she wanted to tell Gale something, perhaps a truth perhaps a lie but seemed unwilling to do so. It was as though she were conflicted.

"I am always watching Gale McCenry and always listening. I know that in these recent days you have lost hope, that you look at the world as being an empty void with nothing in it for you. I have been there, I have experienced hardship as you have. I know the pain you have felt as few might." The woman said, gazing into Gale's eyes.

"I also know that you can't just give up like you've tried today. That resolves nothing. It only brings more pain. Not to you, but to those who care about you and call you friend." She nodded.

She implied that she knew much about Gale's suffering, that she had watched and seen him in his more hopeless of moments. Was she merely a stalker or something more? She'd yet to give her name either, seeming content to remain unknown even now after having saved his life. Why had she done what she did? More to the point why were they so far from the city?

The woman carried herself with a quiet dignity, yet nothing about her words indicated that she held herself above Gale. Rather it seemed like she both sympathized and empathized with him at once, that she felt for him. She moved closer to him and gave him another sad smile, the warmth radiating from her washing over him again.

"You are a good person Gale. I know you are. A little prickly around the edges sometimes but I believe you seek to do the right thing. You also are a fine artist." She stated with a nod.
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Falling into the Black

Postby Gale Austin McCenry on January 3rd, 2014, 9:09 pm

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Often times, people compared others to people they have met in the past. Sometimes you compare yourself to people you met, but after comparing,whether your intentions are good or not, you get to some sort of conclusion about the person. Whether you like this person or you don't, whether you think they are strange or hotheaded, or even good looking. There is always some sort of conclusion. Gale attempted to find some sort of clarity this way on occasions, in which, now was one of those times.

The murderer hadn't met many people who were kind at heart, at least enough so to risk their own life and treat someone who clearly made a mistake so kindly. The closest to such a person that he could recall was that red headed woman with her walking shovel, who hardly took his mistake with a gentle hand. Of course, there were people out there with kind hearts, such as Ricky, Kendhl, and Hana, but he highly doubted that any of them would take the situation as... mildly as-er- What was her name anyway?

Gale turned his gaze to his savior and blinked at the amount of different things he took from her expression. Her heavyhearted smile clearly stated she was dolent over something. He's worn the same expression before on many occasions. Well, maybe not the exact same expression because everyone is different, but generally the same expression. And secretes were almost impossible to keep, for even if you don't reveal the secrete itself, your expression on most occasions reveal that it is there, and thus could possibly lead to disaster. Nevertheless, it might not, depending on the people who notice.

Gale's mind wondered, curious and confused on various levels, unsure of numerous things. Should he thank her for saving him or is that the reason she was sad? That she had to save him? Should he ask for her name or where she was from or was that rude in a situation like this? Maybe he should just leave her be without prying. He's never liked it when people pry at him to talk about things... But he was too curious just to drop it completely. Augh, why was saving someone's life so complicated?

The stranger returned his gaze as they appeared to lock their eyes onto each other. She continued to speak of him as if she has known him for a long time, even though Gale doesn't remember meeting any soul of the likes. Although many people try to say they've gone through the same thing, it was easy to tell if it was sincere or not, or whether they were just trying to cheer you up. It always pissed him off when people tried things like that when it wasn't true. There were other ways to help someone besides saying you went through the same thing. As a matter of fact, it made Gale feel worse when other's have felt the same pain he had. No man should have to endure losing their loved ones. It was a fate he wouldn't wish on anyone, even his nemesis if he had one. It was a horrid thing. Which is why Gale looked back down at the sand when she mentioned it.

Despite the murderer looking away, the woman scooted closer, sending a wave of fresh warmth across him. Which arose another question. How was she so warm, warm enough to radiate it, despite her being soaking wet? Why was she staying to tell him all of these things? Why did she even bother with him in the first place? And why was she saying he was a good person?


He swallowed, rejuvenating the soreness in his throat that lingered. A good person... Depends on your definition he supposed, but most people had the same definition for what a good person was. And good people protect their friends, not cower in fear as the die. Good people don't try to kill themselves on multiple occasions. And good people certainly don't kill men purely for revenge. He was the furthest thing from a good person. He was a liar, a hypocrite, a coward, and a murder. How could she say he was a good person? Yeah, he might have only been a coward because he was scared out of his wits. Yeah, he might have tried to kill himself to end the suffering. Sure, he might have killed that man to avenge his wife, but it was all still wrong. Bad actions with good intentions are still bad, no matter how badly you want to believe it was the right thing. It's still wrong.

"You also are a fine artist."

Gale looked back at the stranger with a shocked expression. Startled even. However, the Zeltivan quickly look back down, observing the three nubs that used to be fingers. He chuckled a low, raspy chuckle,"At least I used to be, right?" Although Gale had planned to learn how to draw again, at the moment his drawings weren't even worth a bent copper miza. Unless a child liked his scribbles and ended up taking one. Nonetheless, it was encouraging that he was at least decent when he could still draw. After all, it took Hana years to convince him of that very thing. Poor thing would be devastated if she saw him now.
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Falling into the Black

Postby Eldritch on January 5th, 2014, 10:43 pm

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The woman glanced at Gale's wounded hand with a bit of sorrow in her eyes, a hand that had once brought forth emotion upon parchment now maimed and broken. She didn't invade the artist's personal space any further, not touching him as it would have obviously been far too forward. Her eyes also flicked to his limp, her frown deepening as she considered them. It didn't look like new information to her.

"I know what I said. Not were. Are. Your body might be maimed but your soul is what matters, Gale. I know it to be true, as long as you stay true to the creative spark then even what look like poor scribbling's have meaning." She said.

The woman looked back to the city that laid in the distance, blinking a few times as her eyes were fixed upon the exact location of the Watchtower. There was certainly something mysterious about her, though it was to be expected when one didn't even know her name. In fact it was a point she seemed content to keep unknown, as though she were uncomfortable with speaking about it.

"You are far too hard on yourself Gale, and are quite humble besides that. You have blood on your hands, red that is difficult to wash out. However have hope, Gale. You should never need to lose that." She continued.

"At the end though, I can't force you to believe anything. Nor would I want you to, my intervention there was rather rare as it is. You will choose to do as wish. You could certainly even return to that pier and jump off it again, its your choice." She said, smiling sadly at him again.

She was being completely and totally honest and it sounded in her voice, no hint of deception being found. Her eyes were fixed again on Gale, searching him again.
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Falling into the Black

Postby Gale Austin McCenry on January 15th, 2014, 6:33 pm

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Common Vani Nari
It was quite strange having a complete stranger talking to him in such a way. Talking to him about what really matters and who he is inside. No matter how strange though, Gale found it nice, for reasons probably he thought of before. Never in his life had he come across anyone so... determined? No, no, that's not the right word. Of course, she did seem pretty determined to convince him of these things, that's not the word he was looking for. He's never come across anyone so...so... purposeful in trying to instil some sort of hope in him. A complete stranger!

And she was right... How could she know all this about him? Well, one might be able to tell that he was too hard on himself just by the way he talks, but how did she know about the murders? Did she watch them too? Gale began to feel like something was crawling underneath his skin, but it was easily shaken away by her blatant statement of him having hope.

Now, hope was one of the tricky things in Gale's mind. One of those things that you can have, yet not have at the same time. Similar to having a memory in your mind but not being able to recall it. It's there, but you can't really reach it until you fully see it's there. But whether you try to recall it or not, it's still there. And it seems that he had forgotten all about it tonight. He was grateful for the reminder.

Gale offered the woman a smile as she continued, granting him permission to go ahead and jump off the pier again. "Oh no, I'd rather not drowning twice in one night." His hand rubbed his throat, which was still raw. "Thanks for the offer though."


Wait-.... Did she just say... Intervention? Her intervention was rare? What type of normal person calls something like that their intervention? Intervention was one of those words that can only be used on those special occasions, because it didn't...sound right. It's either that this woman liked using her vocabulary, or she considered all of this an intervention. An intervention of what? His free will? His life? What was she referring to exactly?

The curiosity started to take the better of Gale and after shifting his body to face her more directly, he questioned,"Who are you?... If I may ask?" Despite his attempt to not sound rusty, his voice continued to sound like tree bark, though it didn't affect the seriousness of his question.
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Gale Austin McCenry
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Falling into the Black

Postby Eldritch on January 15th, 2014, 9:22 pm

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The woman chuckled slightly in response to his comment about jumping off of piers, amused that Gale could bounce back from the near death situation so very easily. The artist seemed to be recovering rather nicely from his near death experience, his hope restored to a certain degree and he even seemed less depressed outwardly. Her eyes fell upon him, a tiny glint of happiness within and a faint smile on her face that appeared less sad and more genuine.

When he asked her name she fell silent for a good solid chime, thinking for about the questions and the gears of her mind turning. She turned out towards the city, a heavy sigh audible from her as she did. Perhaps Gale had asked the wrong question.

"I am known as Priskil, Goddess of Hope, Radiance, and Light." She said, turning her gaze upon Gale once more as she answered.

"I have watched you, Gale McCenry. I have seen your struggles and your trials, your suffering and your loss. I have seen the kind heart that lies within you, and your deepest regret of the crimes you have committed through your life. You are a noble man, one I wish to call my friend." The woman said, kneeling down next to the artist.

There was no judgment in her eyes, only depths of acceptance and understanding. Empathy radiated from her as she offered her hand to Gale, placed so that it was his injured hand he would need to grip it with. She smiled gently to him.

"Would you accept my friendship, Gale? Would you let me help you on your path forward, and would you help me on mine?" She asked, no trace of subversion or demanding in her tone.
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