Welcome to Gaia! ::

He let her count the silver pieces, pulling his arm back and standing quietly as she did so. He took this moment to peer around himself discreetly, many people were passing by, inspecting other stalls and buying their wears. Zeal has noticed that, since the Moment, the other worlds civilisation is split in two. Two different reactions. Half loved the new mystery, the new objects and people, not to mention magic. The other half were sceptical, others worse and more aggressive in their reactions. Zeal had done his best so far to ignore any of that interaction thus far.

"That is correct" Zeal replied, turning back to face the lady. "I will..." he paused for thought, as if pondering what he might do next, "see you here in one week." With that he gave her a small nod of his head as he put his palm to his chest. Zeal then turned, stopping to face the crowd for only a moment before walking away. The light then catching a small portion of his blade that wasn't wrapped properly on his back. He had been trying his best, but even in it's collapsed form it was a great object to wrap up with just one tattered cape.

He thought then what he would do with himself for a week. For now, he will get to know this area and spend the days coming to explore nearby. He saw no point in leaving, only to return again. He haggled enough trying to get tickets with his silver coins last time, it didn't go down too well until a random passerby gave him a ticket for the silver. Asche was the name he could remember. T'was a lady followed by a summoned suit of armour, woven by light, carrying objects for her. But that was all he get from her, she very quickly turned her nose up at him and stomped into the train station, luckily getting a different train than himself. Perhaps it was how he held up the queue that made her get the ticket for him. He would very much not have to bother with that again, at least not soon.

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Before he knew it, it was the morning of the day he would meet back up with the seller lady. By now his memory of her was already beginning to fade, he couldn't remember the finer elements such as the style of her necklace or the style of her hair. He just remembered she was pale, with red eyes and a red and silver necklace. She had a little longer than shoulder length hair and by the Order did he know what clothes she was wearing. The last few days were better than the first, he'd managed to come into possession of some real money by trading s small portion of his silver in as well as one of his normal rubies. He was now back at another entrance the area known as Shinjuku, he'd learnt his own way around the place by now too. He held some of the new currency in his hand, it was incredibly different than what he had rarely needed to use before the Moment. Most of the currency here was like parchment with an oily texture. If that was what he could describe it as. He wasn't even savvy enough with his old civilisation's form of money, so this could have been more normal than he realised. He wondered then if he had given the seller a worthy amount, but he guessed that she must have had some understanding of the silver's worth when she accepted it.

He was eagerly awaiting his new gloves, it was something he had been waiting for patiently, but was beginning to require them more and more. After walking for about fifteen minutes he came to the area that he saw the lady in last, but this time he didn't think he could see her. It wasn't so busy, and the sun had barely been up for about an hour. Perhaps I am too early Zeal thought to himself, see only a few people passing him, one of them looking at him somewhat distastefully. He easily ignored them

He looked around and quickly decided that he'll wait somewhere in the shade. He found a large stone wall, where the shadow stretched out diagonally from it. Once there, he removed his wrapped up scythe from his back, placing it behind his legs as he leaned back against the wall, feeling its coldness press in against his shoulders. I wonder if she has found a Knight... Zeal thought, closing his eyes as he crossed his arms, a lady so timid around the public needs protecting...

Zeal waited for some fifteen or twenty minutes, keeping his eyes closed, hearing the place around him become busier as the trains began dropping more and more citizens off. The sounds that surrounded him were loud, even the footsteps. He was used to solitude, or even in the company of his order many were silent in their studies. Every now and then his foot pressed against his scythe, tucked neatly behind his legs, reminding himself that it was still there. He opened his eyes when he suddenly became aware that more time than he expected might have passed. Like waiting for your dinner to cook on an open fire. One more minute, that won't be too long. But thirty seconds then pass, and you feel like it might have just doomed your now charred meal. At first the light of the sun blinded him and it took him a few seconds to adjust, seeing through the haze he saw how the streets were busier now. His eyes shifted along the people, still not too busy, this was the period when the early-birds got their shopping done before the masses.

After about a minute of staring he managed to see a stall not too far away, already set up and only just now attracting some customers. That's her Zeal thought to himself, recognising her albino complexion and familiar tablecloth. Zeal picked up his collapsed scythe, fingers finding their way beneath a layer of the dark fabric concealing its identity. As he made his way over, he weaved through people like they moved around him. He was at the familiar seller's stool after only a few moments, with his weapon, wrapped, in hand. He waited for another customer to finish browsing her wares before he stepped forwards. Zeal looked upon her and, surprisingly, he grinned. "Silk-spinner" he said, with a twist of admiration. Any smirk however was knocked from his face when someone passing behind him knocked his shoulder. With almost a grunt he found his footing again, watching the man as he passed behind, completely oblivious. Or was he? A bad omen? Zeal though, quickly returning to Quela. "I feel as though I should be used to that. So... are the gloves ready?"

As Quela pulled out her bag to reveal what Zeal could only expect to be his new, woven gloves, the people around him seemed to be less interested. They moved around the stall, almost as if avoiding him, or Quela for that fact. Zeal had learned that the two of them together was a little daunting to the general public. At first he saw a thin package, but his interest peaked when she unfolded it to reveal the black-dyed material. He could see in the reflection of the sun that it revealed a blue shimmer. Zeal cheaply exhaled, parting his lips as he did so to express his surprise. As she held them out and hoped he enjoyed the craftsmanship, he couldn't help but say "I am impressed..." Zeal said, placing his collapsed weapon between his legs before he instinctively reached out to take one of the gloves, carefully laying it out over his other hand to inspect it more closely. It was obvious that he was comparing it to his old gloves, still on his hands. "This is... the work of a specialist" he said, looking up and handing her the glove back. He then removed his own pair, tucking them under his belt to get them out of the way before taking the gloves back from Quela, trying them on. He stretched out his fingers and turned his hand around, "amazing..." he uttered, his pink eyes still inspecting them. She has to be... he thought to himself, feeling the material on his palms, he was certain now more than ever. Making eye contact with Quela again he said "you make this? What illu-" Zeal, in his own naivety to others feelings, was about to ask what many would call a rude question, but before he could he felt his weapon remove itself from his legs.

Zeal turned, his body filled with adrenaline as he observed a person in many layers of clothing take off in the opposite direction with his collapsed scythe in hand, the wrappings coming a little loose in the air, revealing another portion of the blade, more specifically the crystal at its tip. Zeal breathed out, angling his head down as if to scowl as he bit his teeth together. At first, it looked like he wouldn't follow, but to a trained fighter, you could see that his feet were slowly re-positioning, his shoulders turning into a new stance. Just as a cold, bluish hue covered his skin he clenched his fingers tight into his palms and set off, moving with immense speed between other shoppers, under arms and around groups. After only several breaths he was behind the thief and as he looked over his shoulder to see Zeal, the wannabe Knight grabbed his weapon, followed by a burst of air that swept his long white hair over his face. The blue aura over his skin then shattered into the air as he swung out, pulling the thief backwards. But instead of letting go he kicked Zeal in the chest, forcing him backwards and knocking the air out of his lungs. Zeal let go and clutched at his chest, trying to recover as he breathed heavily. The thief then threw a punch and Zeal caught it with one hand, his other catching a hold of his collapsed weapon again, more of his cape unwrapping from it as each second went by. They were locked in a tug of war in one hand, and a... push of war in the other.

((So i don't know, i wanted to do something but I don't know if this is suitable sweatdrop ))

((I'm glad!))

Zeal continued to push back against the thief with his palm, and pulled from the other in an attempt to get back what was his. Zeal needed something, he needed... a distraction. And just at the right moment he heard the voice of somebody else get involved, someone that sounded alert and possibly hostile. At the mention of 'hands up' the thief's stance faulted as he looked over his shoulder in an attempt to identify the would-be officer. Zeal took his chance and lifted his knee up, striking a blue to the man's stomach. As he let out a gasp Zeal let go of the thief's fist, who also let go of the weapon as he desperately clutched at his stomach. Zeal pulled backwards, making some space between them as the cloak complete fell loose from the collapsed scythe. With a small flick of his wrist the Snath of his scythe extended and it's tip hit the ground. The curved blade that hugged his knuckle then unfolded to a ninety degree angle with a loud 'shing' sound. The scythe stood taller than even Zeal, and it's blade was silver, like twilight, half-coated in a thick mass of fur-liike feathers and a raven's head, embedded with a large purple crystal. "You will have to answer for your crimes-" Zeal began, but the thief quickly recovered, baring his teeth before scarpering away through a group of people too quick to follow. Zeal sighed, "or not..." he then remembered the officer, and quickly looked up, obviously worried that he might get caught and blamed for something he did not start.

There was no officer. Zeal looked around and couldn't see one at all, and even then he noticed that the surrounding people began to forget about the entire situation. Typical, Zeal though. Common folk would ignore and forget quite easily, their own business was more important. Was this sort of act normal around here? Zeal had no idea, his knowledge of this world was still so... poor. Some others still gawked at his weapon. It's metal gleamed in the sunlight, and it was surprisingly pristine. It was almost a ceremonial weapon, used only by one of the Masters of the Vanguard of Adrestia. In fact, it was the most powerful Master in the vanguard that owned this scythe. Said to have been Adrestia's weapon. Zeal, somehow, wasn't sure if that legend was true. He took it when he stumbled across the corpses of his Masters after the witch war, prior to the Moment. He cleaned it up, as he would have tended to any other artefact in his order. One shouldn't be fooled however, its edge was sharp and had cut down many a foe in the past.

Picking up his tattered cape from the floor Zeal was brought back to thinking where the officer had vanished off too. It was almost like he was never here at all. The work or a.... mage? Zeal looked back up and across the walk. His eyes searched for Quela, the mage whom he hadn't really come to know anything off. Not yet. She was a mage, a mage that wove her magic into clothes, into silk. Zeal's eyes returned back down to his gloves, and their bluish reflection shined back at him as he turned his wrist.

Zeal returned to the seller's stool, returning not much more than a blank stare before he said "forgive me. This" he held his held up his scythe slightly beside him, "...I cannot lose" Zeal then pushed down on the blade, forcing it to move at the joint to the shaft. As it collapsed inwards the shaft shortened too. "Is... Enchanting the only magic you know?"

So, she told the truth? That's... a little surprising. Zeal thought that maybe she might say she's a simple enchanter of clothes, but instead she admitted to learning a few other spells to help her work. After that she moved slightly, a movement that Zeal recognised as discomfort. He pursed his lips shut and began to wrap his scythe with his cloak. Layer after layer, it began to conceal itself. "Hm..." Zeal hummed, pausing just at the end of wrapping his weapon. The end of his cloak hung from his hand, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "I... need a mage" he said simply, then moving his hand once more to tuck in the end of his cloak. Now there was only a small portion of the shortened handle revealed, as well as the eye of the raven's head on his scythe's blade. "The world is unbalanced and it needs to settle. I would like to do what my Order failed to do. From the shadows we recorded and learned, acted only when absolutely necessary, tilting the coarse of history towards a better end. I can finally do more than that now that nothing is in my way. But... I need a mage... I want a mage to help me do it."

It was hard exactly to read Zeal's tone, for it was monotonous for the most part, but if even for half a second, when he said he had wanted help, it didn't sound quite as selfish as it did desperate. Either way, he wasn't quite so savvy with words that it mattered. He often says what he wants to say without really thinking about how it sounds to people that are more accustom to empathy. Back when the Order of Adrestia was complete, seeking partners, simulating the Mage and Knight pairing was forbidden.But that's where he believed they were wrong. The Masters feared the power of the pair, and thought that it might bring unbalance by allowing two sides to fight for a joint power. But wasn't the point of a pair to resonate together? There were of coarse several reasons why Zeal's theory was flawed. A mage could have more than one night. But what if a scale had more than two arms? It could have three, or four, or five. Balance is not just good vs bad, or darkness vs light. It is many threads in a web fighting for power. It had to be woven into a thread.

When she finally made eye contact once again, she was asking the question. "I am unsure" he stated quite honestly, "but I hope... that in time I can bring back balance. Whether that means simple tasks or helping the innocent - or by defeating the the greatest evils." To him, no single task could out weigh another. Each task fulfilled was just another step on the ladder. A part of him hoped that Quela was interested, but even now he wasn't sure what her name was. Yet he still felt compelled to ask her to join with him. Yes, it was perhaps a ploy to get to know her more and where her silk really comes from, but on the other hand he felt something common between then.

"I cannot" Zeal then said, looking over his shoulder, looking out into the passing people as he thought for a moment. He couldn't be certain at all that she would be a good choice, but sometime you had to make a choice regardless. "I am Zeal, once the ignored albino dark elf of Adrestian society." He looked back at Quela, "Now i hold the weapon that only the Masters of my Order could carry. I used to think that even though I was doing my job in the Order, that my exclusion was the will of Adrestia. But now I know that even the likes of outcasts must assert themselves... whether we are valued or not. What would you like to do in this world?