Magic Sucks [OPEN]
Nov 21, 2015 23:29:03 GMT -6
Post by Jean-Luc on Nov 21, 2015 23:29:03 GMT -6
"Who needs magic?"
Luke mused, a soft smile curled onto the edges of his slender lips. His long, witchlike fingers gently closed shut the book he'd been attentive towards for the past few hours, absorbing whatever information he might not already now. While keen to the idea that he hadn't learned all knowable information, Luke was dissatisfied that he'd found nothing of interest of late, and what's more, he couldn't seem to find anyone anywhere in Etruria who could lead him in a better direction.
The young priest closed his eyes, his long lashes meeting for the first time, he felt, since opening the book in front of him. He finally pushed it away and sighed deeply, leaning back into the chair. After a few seconds of recollection, he looked up into the high vaulted ceilings of the library and listened with intent to the soft coughs, the turning of old pages, and studied the gentle yellow glow of the candles around him. What a peaceful place-- and yet, he felt it was unlikely that anyone in the area was really at peace. Most people were likely studying, and those that weren't were likely seeking shelter from the mess that was becoming so much more evident in the state of Etruria in recent months. In his time, Luke had passed a few people who seemed afraid to be looked at in any way-- it wasn't a state of affairs he preferred to surround himself with, and yet, he couldn't leave Etruria. There was always something keeping him here.
Since returning from Ilia, Luke had decided to stay home and do his part to help those in need. Since not everyone was fond of Kraft, he had taken it upon himself to become the new white knight in the land of darkness-- it was silly, and lofty, and Luke took no real pride in it, but ever since losing his church, he'd had a longing to do something good again, something of piety, something that would put him back in touch with what he really felt was the will of St. Elimine-- none of this Kraft nonsense.
He chuckled and stood, pushing his chair in gently. Looking around, Luke placed a hand on his hip and wondered where he ought to go next. Perhaps food was next on the menu. He no doubt looked lost; Luke never knew where to go to find food.
Luke mused, a soft smile curled onto the edges of his slender lips. His long, witchlike fingers gently closed shut the book he'd been attentive towards for the past few hours, absorbing whatever information he might not already now. While keen to the idea that he hadn't learned all knowable information, Luke was dissatisfied that he'd found nothing of interest of late, and what's more, he couldn't seem to find anyone anywhere in Etruria who could lead him in a better direction.
The young priest closed his eyes, his long lashes meeting for the first time, he felt, since opening the book in front of him. He finally pushed it away and sighed deeply, leaning back into the chair. After a few seconds of recollection, he looked up into the high vaulted ceilings of the library and listened with intent to the soft coughs, the turning of old pages, and studied the gentle yellow glow of the candles around him. What a peaceful place-- and yet, he felt it was unlikely that anyone in the area was really at peace. Most people were likely studying, and those that weren't were likely seeking shelter from the mess that was becoming so much more evident in the state of Etruria in recent months. In his time, Luke had passed a few people who seemed afraid to be looked at in any way-- it wasn't a state of affairs he preferred to surround himself with, and yet, he couldn't leave Etruria. There was always something keeping him here.
Since returning from Ilia, Luke had decided to stay home and do his part to help those in need. Since not everyone was fond of Kraft, he had taken it upon himself to become the new white knight in the land of darkness-- it was silly, and lofty, and Luke took no real pride in it, but ever since losing his church, he'd had a longing to do something good again, something of piety, something that would put him back in touch with what he really felt was the will of St. Elimine-- none of this Kraft nonsense.
He chuckled and stood, pushing his chair in gently. Looking around, Luke placed a hand on his hip and wondered where he ought to go next. Perhaps food was next on the menu. He no doubt looked lost; Luke never knew where to go to find food.
