Welcome to Edensphere, North. Oh, and Dust, too.
Characters: Fugue (fugue_angel) and Lyra/Pan/North/Dust (silver_savage)
Date/Time: Sometime on Nov 11
Location: The Hall of Beginnings
Rating: PG, for the usual nudity of being born?
Summary: Lyra and Pantalaimon arrive in Edensphere, and Fugue is there to greet them.
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Fugue had been hearing rumors that people were connecting the 'old man' to the tree--blaming him. Blaming Fugue. It bothered him namely because they shouldn't be saying that since he didn't know anything about it. It wasn't like he was the only 'old man' in Edensphere, and he wasn't even really an old man. It was his fault just because he liked that costume? Just because he liked disguises? Well, that was really unfair.
Naturally, he wasn't necessarily going to just be himself for once.
Instead, he was dressed in a suit--it was completely white. He wore a short-haired white wig and large black sunglasses. All his raven-black hair had been somehow tucked into his wig. No, it wasn't his favorite. But the rumors were far less favorable and had. to. stop. So he figured that this was the way to go about it, and maybe he'd eventually learn to like it. Eventually. It'd be a gradual process, no doubt.
There were already bundles of provisions spread out on the table. The man was humming some kind of timeless tune to himself, though perhaps it was a song that he alone knew. Fugue heard guards passing on patrol every so often, and sometimes they'd even peek in. But for the most part, he was by himself, humming. There'd be a faint buzz of an echo, and the wriggling of cocoons. Just when he thought the whole day would go by all too slowly, he heard someone hatching. The man quickly snatched up a bundle before sauntering off in the direction of the newborn.
Date/Time: Sometime on Nov 11
Location: The Hall of Beginnings
Rating: PG, for the usual nudity of being born?
Summary: Lyra and Pantalaimon arrive in Edensphere, and Fugue is there to greet them.
------
Fugue had been hearing rumors that people were connecting the 'old man' to the tree--blaming him. Blaming Fugue. It bothered him namely because they shouldn't be saying that since he didn't know anything about it. It wasn't like he was the only 'old man' in Edensphere, and he wasn't even really an old man. It was his fault just because he liked that costume? Just because he liked disguises? Well, that was really unfair.
Naturally, he wasn't necessarily going to just be himself for once.
Instead, he was dressed in a suit--it was completely white. He wore a short-haired white wig and large black sunglasses. All his raven-black hair had been somehow tucked into his wig. No, it wasn't his favorite. But the rumors were far less favorable and had. to. stop. So he figured that this was the way to go about it, and maybe he'd eventually learn to like it. Eventually. It'd be a gradual process, no doubt.
There were already bundles of provisions spread out on the table. The man was humming some kind of timeless tune to himself, though perhaps it was a song that he alone knew. Fugue heard guards passing on patrol every so often, and sometimes they'd even peek in. But for the most part, he was by himself, humming. There'd be a faint buzz of an echo, and the wriggling of cocoons. Just when he thought the whole day would go by all too slowly, he heard someone hatching. The man quickly snatched up a bundle before sauntering off in the direction of the newborn.