[LOG] Have You Seen My World?
WHO: Van Hohenheim, Ling Yao, Jayne Cobb
WHERE: Budehuc Castle
WHEN: You know. Some day. (Hohenheim-Time.)
WHAT: Hohenheim wanders through the Gates and finds himself in Budehuc Castle, in the midst of Jayne and Ling practicing with deadly projectile weaponry. Much confusion ensues.
WATCH FOR: Jayce questioning Ling's masculinity, Hohenheim stealing Ling's bow by accident.
The lonely castle of Budehuc. It's the perfect place, for many; nestled between two tense nations of peoples in the Grasslands, it is a small, and rarely mentioned refuge for those who wish to escape the racism and complications of trade in Zexen and among the tribes of the Grasslands. For Gate travellers, it is a quaint, but friendly place to find oneself in this strange world.
For Ling, it's the first place he found with wide open spaces, friendly people, and good weather. Though slightly disturbed at how welcoming the castle's lord and staff were to a stranger holding a bow and quiver of arrows (as that is, of course, not suspicious in the least), the prince was quickly ushered to the edge of the woods where multiple targets had already been set up for practice. Thankfully nobody else is practicing right now, as he finds himself already self conscious as he attempts to recall the knowledge and training from years past.
It's been three hours, but Ling has yet to fire a single arrow. Instead, he remains standing with the bow drawn fully, arrow held in place and unreleased. He's discarded his shirt, his locket hanging on his back instead of resting on his collarbone, and the evidence of his practicing is clearly evident from the red, raw spots along his chest and inner arm. He may have fired no arrows, but the string seems to have struck him on more than one occasion. Testament to how rusty his skills have become, perhaps.
***
"Aaah... I'm fairly certain..."
Van Hohenheim stands in front of one of the larger structures of Budehuc Castle. He has been standing here for roughly a half hour.
"... that this is not my house."
He wouldn't be able to tell you how long he's been here or how he got to this castle of all things. 'He walked.' The truth of the matter is, Hohenheim had a plan. And it was a good plan, one that involved him crossing rough, potentially mountainside to a location that, according to most travellers, had nothing there. But it was a good plan; whatever the end result would have been, however, is lost to the sands of time when curiosity got the better of Hohenheim. People typically don't just wander through gates without even realizing it, but...
... Hohenheim certainly did a bang up job of it.
And now he's here. Rough fingers lift up to the back of his head, scratching long, blonde locks of hair. Eyes obscured by the light reflecting off his glasses, a cool breeze runs across the castle grounds as the famous alchemist turns to get a good, long look around him, lips turning down in a thoughtful frown. Weary eyebrows lift for a moment as he passes the features of someone who looks distinctly from... some place he might remember, but other than that, Van Hohenheim is completely and utterly lost. So...
... so, it's about five minute after he lays eyes on Ling that the prince might feel a heavy hand on his shoulder. And should he turn -- he'll see Hohenheim staring at him with an expression that simply screams 'lost.'
"Ah, excuse me. I seem to have misplaced my world."
***
BOOM.
And over yonder is where Jayne is teaching the locals the many wonders of a 'boomstick.' The deer carcass topples over, headless, and the small group of adolescent boys can do nothing more than stare, wide-eyed...with horror, with awe, and/or with apprehension. "There ya go," he smirks, looking immensely pleased with himself as he rests the barrel of his rifle against a broad shoulder. "That's how y'kill yourself a deer. Don't have t'worry about it kickin' and screamin' and chargin' if it's wounded. Get yerself a real mess on your hands if you don't kill it good 'n quick." He looks past the gathering where Ling has set up target practice. And he smirks further. "You wanna do it the wussy way, look over there," he jerks his chin. "That's the girl way."
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," four heads tip back and fall forward in understanding.
***
Though Ling had an inkling of the man's nearby presence, as he seemed to have no interest in him, the prince had simply chosen to ignore him in favor of his own concentration on the task at hand. Making sure his stance is correct, making sure his spirit is calm, and trying to ignore the hubbub nearby where that aggravating mad in the silly hat is making a racket with his guns. He's done a fairly good job, really, and the arrow held between his fingers steady and unwavering. Those narrow eyes are, despite appearances, open and looking towards his chosen target appraisingly. He gives a quiet sigh, letting his chi find its steady flow through his entirety, and the earth beneath his feet, the bow in his hands, and even the target in the nearby trees. He doesn't need to try to hit the target; all he needs is to make sure he releases the arrow perfectly.
Those fingers release the string, and the whistle of the arrow is quiet, but sharp as it flies high into the air.
Which isn't at all where Ling had meant to fire it, but the hand that clasped his shoulder had startled the prince into fouling up his shot. To his credit, there is no yelp of surprise, but his expression is quite obviously surprised as he quickly turns to regard the man who had so rudely interrupted him. He stares for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to figure out the feeling of strange familiarity about him. Not to mention, there's something odd about hi--
"I heard that!" Ling suddenly turns and shouts over his shoulder with a frown. "It is not the girl way!" More quietly, he mumbles to himself in Xingese, "<>"
***
Gold eyes lift to follow the trail of the arrow as it flies into the air, and lips purse in thought. A finger lifts, pointing to the sky, before dropping aaaaall the way down to where the target should have theoretically been. "I believe... you missed your mark," he observes. Hohenheim's head tilts to the side, and brows furrow, "by just a little bit." And perhaps the scariest part of the entire statement is, Hohenheim's words are entirely too devoid of sarcasm or humor.
*BOOM* goes the appropriately labeled boomstick, but despite the loud racket, Hohenheim seems to not even hear it; or at least, the man doesn't acknowledge its existance. Instead, a hand lifts to rub at the back of his neck, the glare of heatless light from the skies above reflecting off his glasses as he stares around him. "Mm... these aren't the mountains at all. I don't think this is what I was looking for, but stranger things have happened." A pause. "..." And then he nods to himself. Yes. Stranger things have happened than walking into an entirely new world. "Aaah, this does put me a bit off schedule tho--"
Gold eyes lift towards Jayne, silent for a moment. "... I'm sorry, sir, but I think he's right. It is kind a little... aah, girly. And you didn't even hit your mark--" His hand once again begins to point towards the sky, but gold eyes widen. That language is something he recognizes instantly. And so, that finger swings DOWNWARDS, pointing /right/ at Ling with a far too sudden jerk of his hand. "You... you're from..." Hohenheim blinks. He can remember...
"... /Xong/!?"
***
Smirk. Smiiiiiiiiiiirk. "Yeah. See? That's lesson two," Jayne remarks to the gathering. "Listen to the guy with muttonchops, no matter who he is. Because whatever it is, it's probably going to be manly. That's the only way you'll save yourself from looking sissy with a ponytail."
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
Swaggering, Jayne strides across the clearing while working his jaw to the side in perpetual amusement. Despite the fact that everyone in the universe knows Mandarin, it's been quite some time since he's seen a real Chinese person face to face. Perhaps it's his curiosity that propels him to do what he does. Perhaps he takes pity. Either way, he cocks the rifle, reloads, and...proffers the gun to Ling. "Here. Try this. It'll make you feel better, trust me."
***
Ling looks to Hohenheim with an expression of open dismay. First he insults an error that was obviously his fault, and then mispronounces the name of his countr--
Wait, he knows of Xing? Unless 'Xong' is actually a country somewhere, but the strange familiarity of this man leads him to doubt that he could be from anywhere but his world. Or, one close enough, at least. "From 'Xing'," he corrects Hohenheim without a snide tone, though part of him would like to. Fixing the bearded man with an odd look, he asks, "Are you perchance from Amestri--ah?"
Suddenly, there's a gun in his hands. From the man who he could have /sworn/ just implied that he looks like a sissy. Ling looks at it oddly, his narrow gaze regarding Jayne with suspicion. "I've no real experience with firearms," he says, offering the rifle back to the other man, "Forgive me, sir, but I'm afraid I must decline."
***
"'Xing'..." Hohenheim begins almost thoughtfully, a finger tapping against the base of his chin, "Mmm, they must have changed the name, then." This is what the ancient alchemist assures himself of as both hands find themselves nestled comfortably in his pockets, a single, golden brow lifting up from the hidden depths of his glasses. "Amestriah? I'm fairly certain I'm from, uh..." Almost absent-mindedly does Hohenheim chew on his lower lip, "... Amestris. Err, is Amestriah Xing for Amestris...? It's been so long since I've heard the language." How long, he can't really remember. Time blurs when you have a lot of it. "They certainly sound similar. Hmmmm."
Hohenheim is, in fact, in the midst of occupying his thoughts with the implications of an 'Amestriah' in the world if it is not Amestris when Jayne approaches. Deep yellow eyes turn to squint at the man as he approaches, taking only a scant moment to rotate his eyes as if in an attempt to stare at the ponytail at the back of his head. "... Aah, a gun! How strange, I didn't think people from Xing used guns that much." A few seconds of silence pass. And then, so very suddenly -- Hohenheim is leaning in to peer at Jayne, both brows raised. "... though you don't look like you're from Xing." Silence. "Or the architecture. I think." And so, Hohenheim finds himself back at step one.
***
Jayne blinks. He now sees two of himself reflected in Hohenheim's pair of thick spectacles. Now he's twice as good-looking. He leans in close as well, but only to smooth a thumb over an eyebrow that looks like it got a little wild there. Eyebrow goes up. Eyebrow goes down. And he completely misses the bit of beef wedged in his teeth there. "Looks like we got a real professor here," he remarks somewhat absently, more surprised to find the gun back in his hands than anything else. "What? Don't be stupid. If you have no experience, then get some." He shoves the gun back at Ling. "You aren't learnin' archery to look good, you're learnin' t'kill somethin', aint'cha? Try it." Jayne takes a step back and folds his brawny arms over his chest with a knowing grin. "Sally will get you so gorram hooked you won't be able to sleep at night."
***
"No, I meant Amestris," Ling attempts to explain, "I was just... well, in any case, if you need guidance to find the correct gate, I can certainly show you your way back, once we're finished here." Which may be sooner than expected, since the prince finds himself feeling more and more ill at ease. Whatever focused, meditative state he'd achieved before has long since departed, and he's left with feelings of awkwardness and unease. Also, still left with a rifle in his hands, somehow.
Ling frowns at Jayne, but resolves to continue holding the gun for the moment. "Sally?" he has to ask, gaze drifting down to the weapon with an incredulous expression. "I do like being able to sleep at night, though.. <>" He seems resigned at this point, handing the bow he still held loosely to Hohenheim as he attempts to recall how to hold a rifle. It's close enough to a musket, he supposes, which is the extent of his experience with weilding firearms.
***
"Aaah, gates?" Hohenheim asks in a tone that might seem for all intents and purposes to be absent; but the softening of his brows, and the depth of his eyes, suggest a level of thought that contradict that. "...So this is a different world. Ahaha, how embarassing." Grinning awkwardly, Hohenheim looks back in the direction he came from -- a vague thataway. "Hmm, maybe I should pay more attention next... time...?"
Whatever else Hohenheim is about to say trails off like a question. He thoughtlessly grips on to the bow that Ling offers him. He doesn't know what he's holding, really. Instead, his attention focuses... on a small, black cat. "Hm." Not just any cat though. An ALTERNATE REALITY cat. Which is just the crazy concept that Hohenheim needs to be distracted just enough to turn... and start walking off towards the cat as it scampers away.
Van Hohenheim doesn't even look back behind him as he walks away from Ling and Jayne, with Ling's bow in tow. "... I wonder if cats from different worlds are any different from ours...?"
OH, and Hohenheim needs a tag. 8(a --and so does jayne cobb apparantly
WHERE: Budehuc Castle
WHEN: You know. Some day. (Hohenheim-Time.)
WHAT: Hohenheim wanders through the Gates and finds himself in Budehuc Castle, in the midst of Jayne and Ling practicing with deadly projectile weaponry. Much confusion ensues.
WATCH FOR: Jayce questioning Ling's masculinity, Hohenheim stealing Ling's bow by accident.
The lonely castle of Budehuc. It's the perfect place, for many; nestled between two tense nations of peoples in the Grasslands, it is a small, and rarely mentioned refuge for those who wish to escape the racism and complications of trade in Zexen and among the tribes of the Grasslands. For Gate travellers, it is a quaint, but friendly place to find oneself in this strange world.
For Ling, it's the first place he found with wide open spaces, friendly people, and good weather. Though slightly disturbed at how welcoming the castle's lord and staff were to a stranger holding a bow and quiver of arrows (as that is, of course, not suspicious in the least), the prince was quickly ushered to the edge of the woods where multiple targets had already been set up for practice. Thankfully nobody else is practicing right now, as he finds himself already self conscious as he attempts to recall the knowledge and training from years past.
It's been three hours, but Ling has yet to fire a single arrow. Instead, he remains standing with the bow drawn fully, arrow held in place and unreleased. He's discarded his shirt, his locket hanging on his back instead of resting on his collarbone, and the evidence of his practicing is clearly evident from the red, raw spots along his chest and inner arm. He may have fired no arrows, but the string seems to have struck him on more than one occasion. Testament to how rusty his skills have become, perhaps.
***
"Aaah... I'm fairly certain..."
Van Hohenheim stands in front of one of the larger structures of Budehuc Castle. He has been standing here for roughly a half hour.
"... that this is not my house."
He wouldn't be able to tell you how long he's been here or how he got to this castle of all things. 'He walked.' The truth of the matter is, Hohenheim had a plan. And it was a good plan, one that involved him crossing rough, potentially mountainside to a location that, according to most travellers, had nothing there. But it was a good plan; whatever the end result would have been, however, is lost to the sands of time when curiosity got the better of Hohenheim. People typically don't just wander through gates without even realizing it, but...
... Hohenheim certainly did a bang up job of it.
And now he's here. Rough fingers lift up to the back of his head, scratching long, blonde locks of hair. Eyes obscured by the light reflecting off his glasses, a cool breeze runs across the castle grounds as the famous alchemist turns to get a good, long look around him, lips turning down in a thoughtful frown. Weary eyebrows lift for a moment as he passes the features of someone who looks distinctly from... some place he might remember, but other than that, Van Hohenheim is completely and utterly lost. So...
... so, it's about five minute after he lays eyes on Ling that the prince might feel a heavy hand on his shoulder. And should he turn -- he'll see Hohenheim staring at him with an expression that simply screams 'lost.'
"Ah, excuse me. I seem to have misplaced my world."
***
BOOM.
And over yonder is where Jayne is teaching the locals the many wonders of a 'boomstick.' The deer carcass topples over, headless, and the small group of adolescent boys can do nothing more than stare, wide-eyed...with horror, with awe, and/or with apprehension. "There ya go," he smirks, looking immensely pleased with himself as he rests the barrel of his rifle against a broad shoulder. "That's how y'kill yourself a deer. Don't have t'worry about it kickin' and screamin' and chargin' if it's wounded. Get yerself a real mess on your hands if you don't kill it good 'n quick." He looks past the gathering where Ling has set up target practice. And he smirks further. "You wanna do it the wussy way, look over there," he jerks his chin. "That's the girl way."
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," four heads tip back and fall forward in understanding.
***
Though Ling had an inkling of the man's nearby presence, as he seemed to have no interest in him, the prince had simply chosen to ignore him in favor of his own concentration on the task at hand. Making sure his stance is correct, making sure his spirit is calm, and trying to ignore the hubbub nearby where that aggravating mad in the silly hat is making a racket with his guns. He's done a fairly good job, really, and the arrow held between his fingers steady and unwavering. Those narrow eyes are, despite appearances, open and looking towards his chosen target appraisingly. He gives a quiet sigh, letting his chi find its steady flow through his entirety, and the earth beneath his feet, the bow in his hands, and even the target in the nearby trees. He doesn't need to try to hit the target; all he needs is to make sure he releases the arrow perfectly.
Those fingers release the string, and the whistle of the arrow is quiet, but sharp as it flies high into the air.
Which isn't at all where Ling had meant to fire it, but the hand that clasped his shoulder had startled the prince into fouling up his shot. To his credit, there is no yelp of surprise, but his expression is quite obviously surprised as he quickly turns to regard the man who had so rudely interrupted him. He stares for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to figure out the feeling of strange familiarity about him. Not to mention, there's something odd about hi--
"I heard that!" Ling suddenly turns and shouts over his shoulder with a frown. "It is not the girl way!" More quietly, he mumbles to himself in Xingese, "<>"
***
Gold eyes lift to follow the trail of the arrow as it flies into the air, and lips purse in thought. A finger lifts, pointing to the sky, before dropping aaaaall the way down to where the target should have theoretically been. "I believe... you missed your mark," he observes. Hohenheim's head tilts to the side, and brows furrow, "by just a little bit." And perhaps the scariest part of the entire statement is, Hohenheim's words are entirely too devoid of sarcasm or humor.
*BOOM* goes the appropriately labeled boomstick, but despite the loud racket, Hohenheim seems to not even hear it; or at least, the man doesn't acknowledge its existance. Instead, a hand lifts to rub at the back of his neck, the glare of heatless light from the skies above reflecting off his glasses as he stares around him. "Mm... these aren't the mountains at all. I don't think this is what I was looking for, but stranger things have happened." A pause. "..." And then he nods to himself. Yes. Stranger things have happened than walking into an entirely new world. "Aaah, this does put me a bit off schedule tho--"
Gold eyes lift towards Jayne, silent for a moment. "... I'm sorry, sir, but I think he's right. It is kind a little... aah, girly. And you didn't even hit your mark--" His hand once again begins to point towards the sky, but gold eyes widen. That language is something he recognizes instantly. And so, that finger swings DOWNWARDS, pointing /right/ at Ling with a far too sudden jerk of his hand. "You... you're from..." Hohenheim blinks. He can remember...
"... /Xong/!?"
***
Smirk. Smiiiiiiiiiiirk. "Yeah. See? That's lesson two," Jayne remarks to the gathering. "Listen to the guy with muttonchops, no matter who he is. Because whatever it is, it's probably going to be manly. That's the only way you'll save yourself from looking sissy with a ponytail."
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
Swaggering, Jayne strides across the clearing while working his jaw to the side in perpetual amusement. Despite the fact that everyone in the universe knows Mandarin, it's been quite some time since he's seen a real Chinese person face to face. Perhaps it's his curiosity that propels him to do what he does. Perhaps he takes pity. Either way, he cocks the rifle, reloads, and...proffers the gun to Ling. "Here. Try this. It'll make you feel better, trust me."
***
Ling looks to Hohenheim with an expression of open dismay. First he insults an error that was obviously his fault, and then mispronounces the name of his countr--
Wait, he knows of Xing? Unless 'Xong' is actually a country somewhere, but the strange familiarity of this man leads him to doubt that he could be from anywhere but his world. Or, one close enough, at least. "From 'Xing'," he corrects Hohenheim without a snide tone, though part of him would like to. Fixing the bearded man with an odd look, he asks, "Are you perchance from Amestri--ah?"
Suddenly, there's a gun in his hands. From the man who he could have /sworn/ just implied that he looks like a sissy. Ling looks at it oddly, his narrow gaze regarding Jayne with suspicion. "I've no real experience with firearms," he says, offering the rifle back to the other man, "Forgive me, sir, but I'm afraid I must decline."
***
"'Xing'..." Hohenheim begins almost thoughtfully, a finger tapping against the base of his chin, "Mmm, they must have changed the name, then." This is what the ancient alchemist assures himself of as both hands find themselves nestled comfortably in his pockets, a single, golden brow lifting up from the hidden depths of his glasses. "Amestriah? I'm fairly certain I'm from, uh..." Almost absent-mindedly does Hohenheim chew on his lower lip, "... Amestris. Err, is Amestriah Xing for Amestris...? It's been so long since I've heard the language." How long, he can't really remember. Time blurs when you have a lot of it. "They certainly sound similar. Hmmmm."
Hohenheim is, in fact, in the midst of occupying his thoughts with the implications of an 'Amestriah' in the world if it is not Amestris when Jayne approaches. Deep yellow eyes turn to squint at the man as he approaches, taking only a scant moment to rotate his eyes as if in an attempt to stare at the ponytail at the back of his head. "... Aah, a gun! How strange, I didn't think people from Xing used guns that much." A few seconds of silence pass. And then, so very suddenly -- Hohenheim is leaning in to peer at Jayne, both brows raised. "... though you don't look like you're from Xing." Silence. "Or the architecture. I think." And so, Hohenheim finds himself back at step one.
***
Jayne blinks. He now sees two of himself reflected in Hohenheim's pair of thick spectacles. Now he's twice as good-looking. He leans in close as well, but only to smooth a thumb over an eyebrow that looks like it got a little wild there. Eyebrow goes up. Eyebrow goes down. And he completely misses the bit of beef wedged in his teeth there. "Looks like we got a real professor here," he remarks somewhat absently, more surprised to find the gun back in his hands than anything else. "What? Don't be stupid. If you have no experience, then get some." He shoves the gun back at Ling. "You aren't learnin' archery to look good, you're learnin' t'kill somethin', aint'cha? Try it." Jayne takes a step back and folds his brawny arms over his chest with a knowing grin. "Sally will get you so gorram hooked you won't be able to sleep at night."
***
"No, I meant Amestris," Ling attempts to explain, "I was just... well, in any case, if you need guidance to find the correct gate, I can certainly show you your way back, once we're finished here." Which may be sooner than expected, since the prince finds himself feeling more and more ill at ease. Whatever focused, meditative state he'd achieved before has long since departed, and he's left with feelings of awkwardness and unease. Also, still left with a rifle in his hands, somehow.
Ling frowns at Jayne, but resolves to continue holding the gun for the moment. "Sally?" he has to ask, gaze drifting down to the weapon with an incredulous expression. "I do like being able to sleep at night, though.. <>" He seems resigned at this point, handing the bow he still held loosely to Hohenheim as he attempts to recall how to hold a rifle. It's close enough to a musket, he supposes, which is the extent of his experience with weilding firearms.
***
"Aaah, gates?" Hohenheim asks in a tone that might seem for all intents and purposes to be absent; but the softening of his brows, and the depth of his eyes, suggest a level of thought that contradict that. "...So this is a different world. Ahaha, how embarassing." Grinning awkwardly, Hohenheim looks back in the direction he came from -- a vague thataway. "Hmm, maybe I should pay more attention next... time...?"
Whatever else Hohenheim is about to say trails off like a question. He thoughtlessly grips on to the bow that Ling offers him. He doesn't know what he's holding, really. Instead, his attention focuses... on a small, black cat. "Hm." Not just any cat though. An ALTERNATE REALITY cat. Which is just the crazy concept that Hohenheim needs to be distracted just enough to turn... and start walking off towards the cat as it scampers away.
Van Hohenheim doesn't even look back behind him as he walks away from Ling and Jayne, with Ling's bow in tow. "... I wonder if cats from different worlds are any different from ours...?"
OH, and Hohenheim needs a tag. 8(a --and so does jayne cobb apparantly