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The Circle
- Thread starter figmike
- Start date
Joey MacGuffin
First Post
Fifth Bodhisattva was now worried. The Sword did not have many good associations, and he didn't need to recall years of study to know what, or rather who, the Messenger could be pointing at. He was going to get a professional opinion.
The colour schemes and markings that identify houses and shops in Varang can be rather arcane to outsiders, but thankfully Fifth hadn't totally forgotten his childhood. He goes up to a house marked as the office of a relatively competent astrologer, probably only a few years out of apprenticeship, but it was enough, no reason going to someone so high-up he would refuse to answer his questions. He knocks on the door. Nobody comes, so he keeps knocking, except louder, until a small man opens the door, looking annoyed.
"What's the meaning of this?" the astrologer shouts irritated, "it's the middle of the night! I'm not open... for... business," he falters under the Exalt's pupil-less eyes.
"I just saw the Messenger move, in the sky, towards the Sword. What does that mean?" Fifth demands, impatiently. If he was going to avert some terrible fate, it wouldn't happen by being polite.
The astrologer would have been more annoyed at this stranger's actions if he wasn't startled by his word. "Th-that's impossible!" he stammers.
The Bodhisattva of Lost Heaven narrows his eyes menacingly. "Just imagine," he says, softly, "that I'm just crazy enough to do something crazy if you don't answer, but not yet crazy enough to imagine stars moving, okay?"
The colour schemes and markings that identify houses and shops in Varang can be rather arcane to outsiders, but thankfully Fifth hadn't totally forgotten his childhood. He goes up to a house marked as the office of a relatively competent astrologer, probably only a few years out of apprenticeship, but it was enough, no reason going to someone so high-up he would refuse to answer his questions. He knocks on the door. Nobody comes, so he keeps knocking, except louder, until a small man opens the door, looking annoyed.
"What's the meaning of this?" the astrologer shouts irritated, "it's the middle of the night! I'm not open... for... business," he falters under the Exalt's pupil-less eyes.
"I just saw the Messenger move, in the sky, towards the Sword. What does that mean?" Fifth demands, impatiently. If he was going to avert some terrible fate, it wouldn't happen by being polite.
The astrologer would have been more annoyed at this stranger's actions if he wasn't startled by his word. "Th-that's impossible!" he stammers.
The Bodhisattva of Lost Heaven narrows his eyes menacingly. "Just imagine," he says, softly, "that I'm just crazy enough to do something crazy if you don't answer, but not yet crazy enough to imagine stars moving, okay?"
Satisfied that the fallen thug would live, Skies rose to his feet. He studied the young man. The youth was strong, and well-built, handling his weapons as one with training. Yet, he did seem rather too ... pretty ... yes, that would be the word, to be a martial artist. Still, looks meant nothing to the Art, so why not?
Nonetheless, he was still rather too hot-headed for Skies' temperament. Such needless fighting that could have been avoided ratehr easily. Still, a young man and his pride were usually quite inseparable, and he might mellow with maturity.
Skies made no move toward him, yet neither did he deign to answer. It would be most revealing to see the youth's reaction, he thought to himself.
Nonetheless, he was still rather too hot-headed for Skies' temperament. Such needless fighting that could have been avoided ratehr easily. Still, a young man and his pride were usually quite inseparable, and he might mellow with maturity.
Skies made no move toward him, yet neither did he deign to answer. It would be most revealing to see the youth's reaction, he thought to himself.
"Old man, you are really irritating me. The only thing you've said since showing up and watching me fight was a feint to get me to turn around, and now you don't talk at all. What am I supposed to expect of you, you could be just waiting for me to turn my back so you can pounce on me. Now please, for the sake of my perception of safety at least, answer me."
Leon was now standing at his full height, arms crossed, his well muscled arms gleaming in the sun from the sweat that had developed over him from the fight and the heat. Indeed, he looked almost like an oiled up slave, if it weren't for the hard and not so subservient expression on his face, and the passion that was still alive in his eyes from the thrill of the fight.
Leon was now standing at his full height, arms crossed, his well muscled arms gleaming in the sun from the sweat that had developed over him from the fight and the heat. Indeed, he looked almost like an oiled up slave, if it weren't for the hard and not so subservient expression on his face, and the passion that was still alive in his eyes from the thrill of the fight.
Skies merely smiled. The youth was still too excitable from the fight. From the looks of it, he was even more wound up during the fight. And getting caught is one of the easier ways to get killed. Skies would wait to see how long it would take for the youth to reconsider his conclusions, or act impulsively.
Moving his gaze from the youth to the clouds above, Skies waited for a reaction.
Moving his gaze from the youth to the clouds above, Skies waited for a reaction.
"Fine, do as you wish. But if I hear you coming up behind me without a spoken warning, mark my words, you will have your hands full." With that, Leon shrugged as he continued his way towards Nexus. He was keeping his ears open for any movement or communication from the other man, and glancing back every once in a while just in case the man was good at moving without sound.
Shrugging his shoulders, Skies sighed. Confidence was good, but too much... He let out a loud sigh. Perhaps he had his hopes up a bit too much. The youth was young, after all. Whistling a nameless tune, Skies went on his merry way, closing the distance between him and the youth.
