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 Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 10:52 am
He was leaning forward over his desk, both elbows up on it, one hand clutching a red pen as he waved it aimlessly over the essay spread before him, the other hand reaching up to clutch at his unruly hair convulsively. Wilde's eyes were burning, and every now and then the hand torturing his head would slide down and scrub roughly at them, though this seemed not to help.
Finally he sighed and let the hand holding the pen drop to the table. He had had a lot of work waiting for him upon his return and was desperately trying to catch up before the students grades were due- it was something of a losing struggle. Where he had so recently been unable to sleep at all, now it was all he wanted to do and he was forcibly attempting to keep himself awake with coffee and force of will.
"I guess that's all I can manage tonight," he finally muttered, defeated, and pushing his chair back he stood up, staggering slightly as he got to his feet and supporting himself with one hand on the chair until he had gotten his bearing. His free hand drifted up, thoughtlessly, to stroke the warm amulet around his neck, and with a huge yawn he limped off to bed and collapsed upon it, fully clothed, feet dangling off the edge.
He was asleep within moments.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 10:56 am
This was the second night of his guardianship and as with all the others, it was time for him to recieve his charge. Floating up above his body in a ghostly form-yet still able to see that he was sleeping and not dead-a spirit like relic around his neck, Wilde saw a door across from him. This door had not been there before and it was floating above the ground-at the same level he was. The relic seeemd to beckon him to open it.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 11:00 am
It was an uncanny feeling, being out of his body and yet fully aware. He watched himself sleeping for a minute, stunned at his messy appearance and actually somewhat embarrassed by it in a way he never was when.. well, in his body. But before he could begin to lament his hair, he felt a strong tugging at his neck. Glancing down, he noticed nothing particularly different about the amulet, but the direction was clear. With a mental shrug, he moved towards the door and pushed it open.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 11:11 am
Once Wilde had opened the door and gone through it vanished behind him-trapping him for the moment in this area. It was seemingly a tea garden. A small waterfall fell on rocks and made one feel at piece there.
A young man lay on the ground in front of a small shrine like aparatus. He wore a fine black robe with golden thread. It was similar to the japanese yutaka but it had a high collar beneath the two closing sides of the robe and he seemed to be prepared for something. There was a cut through the front of his robe though and beneath it was visible a red line is his chest. It was obvious what had happened to this deity-and the weapon he held and his dress made it obvious also who had done it.
The sword in his hand was similar to a mix between a katana and a rapier. Made of purest cyrstal almost with a silver chain hanging from the black hilt. The blood on this sword was almost as red as the long ponytail of the man who held it. He had died by his own sword but Wilde did not know the significance of that sword or of who this was.
The relic on his neck seemed to want him to lay a hand on this fallen man. It was strange to think of laying a hand on a lifeless body but it wasn't like touchign a corpse was it? He didn't seem dead even though the other knew he was. Just lifeless. But maybe this god needed Wilde to lay a hand on him for him to return to life.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 11:24 am
It was a strange sight, and Wilde felt his brow wrinkle at the myriad thoughts fluttering through his head. Despite the fact that this was clearly a suicide, a scene of death, it was still artful and somehow beautiful. Drawing nearer, he found himself crouching beside the body, letting his eyes move over it. For some reason, he felt sad.
A few strands of hair that had come lose in the passion of the moment straggled across the still face, and Wilde reached out to push them aside and see the face of one who had died in such a way. As he moved the hair, his fingers lightly brushed that pallid cheek.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 11:29 am
When Wilde's hand brushed the face of the dead god both he and the relic began to glow in a way that prevented the man from seeing either. The relic's weight left his neck, shooting into the body like a star-a soul returning to it's body. And the figure shrunk slowly as well. And in a few moments what lay before the other was instead a long haired boy. Pale skin, that red red hair, and a peace in his sleep that few could ever gain. And beside him was the sword-in a silver sheath encrusted with diamonds. For some reason Wilde felt that if he was to take this child he should take the sword as well and maybe ask the people on the ship about it.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 11:36 am
The transformation should have been astonishing, but by this point very little was. He merely watched with some fascination as the god got smaller. The space around his neck felt strangely bare, having gotten used to the weight of the amulet.
After watching the godling sleep for a few minutes, he gently, gingerly, as one unused to handling children, picked him up, and then carefully balanced him in his arms as he reached down to pick up the sword as well. Surely something that important and significant, as it must have been to have ended the gods life, could not just be left behind.
Cradling the youth in his arms, he was plagued with many questions and was hit with an overwhelming desire to ask someone, anyone who might know, about what was going on. But how to contact that strange ship now?
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 11:39 am
Luckily for him upon claiming the sword and the babe the door reappeared, wide opening, allowing the man and boy to return to their bodies. When he woke up in his own body the sword was on the desk with the number for the ship and the baby boy was still sleepign in his arms.
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