08-14-2016, 09:58 PM
Gunsynd
I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
Magic has a feel, a certain vibration not unlike the quiet hum of life itself. Gunsynd knows this, is familiar with the silent orchestra of magic although his own is limited, so very limited, compared to the beast that lurks within the valley’s walls. And although he has no claim to such power, having some of his own allows him to listen ever so closely for the changes in tune, in pitch that tell him that the valley’s silent guardian is approaching. This excites him, makes his dark eyes glisten. And then he appears, from the skies he descends onto their group like the archangel himself on his fall from heaven. The black male watches the event like an interested spectator, notices the little greetings and formalities between the beast and the two women. A smile curls his lips once more: so then, this was his valley’s protector.
He listens with rapt attention as his guardian speaks, drinking in his words with the thirst of the dying. So this ruler had won Eight’s approval; Gunsynd is unsure if that had been won from her own virtue, or a certain womanly charm that had attracted the mage’s attentions. He would see in time for himself and decide what path to take at that point. For now, the subject for him was tabled. And now the powerful stallion inquires about Gunsynd. He is not surprised, it is only fair that they be curious.
But how to describe what has happened to him? Perhaps best not described in words, but in images; it is fortunate that the majority of this little party can see the insides of his mind. Usually he resists the intrusion into his head with the training he has given himself and whatever magic runs through his blood, but today he opens himself up to their probing. It can only help in this case. But because there is one who will not violate his thoughts, he decides to be a gentleman and narrate as best he can as well.
“I was given this quaint little gift by a fairy during my last quest - phasing I believe she called it. Well I was keen to explore that trick but as is usually the case with these things, it was more than I first expected.” Black eyes glint in the shadows as he shows them, puts the images before them like a slideshow. Himself being endowed with the magical gift, attempting to become more and less solid, losing control. Suddenly his being is nothing but particles - atoms, neutrons, protons, electrons. He is floating endlessly in the chasm of never-ending space, unable to force himself back together. He must learn each of his parts, each atom down to its quarks and hadrons. Slowly, so very slowly, like the creation of the universe itself he forms himself once more. Piece by piece he rebuilds himself, putting the puzzle together in the nothingness. There were so many times he made mistakes and felt the ultimate distress of falling apart once more, unsure of his ability to put himself back together again. Time was immeasurable. Distance was an unknown. There was only nothingness and his essence, trying desperately to create its home.
“It took ages, I’m unsure of the actual amount of time because for me, time had stopped. But I got the hang of it eventually”. He says with a nonchalant shrug. But the images continue, an unstoppable tide of attempting and failing, getting close - so close and then starting over from square one. And then one day, he was back. His body was whole, exactly where he had left it after the quest. His body was unchanged, but his mind had changed. He was intimately acquainted with everything that constructed him. He could change his construction at will. He could make any and all of his self suddenly disappear and reappear somewhere else. He could change his consistency so that he was like the mists themselves. And then bring himself back together again. It looked so seamless, so effortless. And it was, now. But it had been a long and tortuous process and he was glad that it was over.
He had paid the price of his gift. He had lost himself and time. He had been forced to leave his valley’s side for uncountable years. And now that he was back, there was no way to make up for that lost time. But at least he had been able to show them, however - what they would make of the jumbled images was ultimately up to them. He lets his eyes wander over the three of them now, the souls of the valley. And now he moves on. “Now all that remains…” he pauses, taking a moment to enjoy the bay female’s nervous shuffling “is to ask where we go from here.” Eyes finally come to rest on the ruler, the queen of his valley.
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N
Hanna: I’m not sure if Eight ever met Gunsynd before, so I’m playing it as if he at least -knows of- Eight from before. If they have a more established relationship let me know and I’ll change it up
Also, this may be the first time I have a really solid excuse for a character going MIA for a while and it wasn’t even my character to begin with :’)