[outside the flower shop that never was] [open to any in the area]
For the past few days, he has been traveling quietly along the edges of town, skirting it. When he tried to delve into the wilderness around him, it seemed that reality skittered away, chasing itself into infinitely smaller dimensions until he realized it was a net he was walking into, a net made of light and sound and smell that got too close and too hot the further he went, until he couldn't breathe or see and stumbled, just once, just for a second.
In that moment, the bubble he was in snapped back and he was snapped back with it, staggering about and nearly falling to his knees before his body reconstituted into its proper shape and his mind (or maybe it was more accurate to say his will) felt fully whole again.
So it was in every direction; whether he pressed into the woods or the little low plains, towards the memory of mountains he thought he saw in the distance or even the sea. It was as though he stood in the midst of a bowl, holding a slice of the world in its smooth sphere, perfect and impossible. Day and night came and went like the real world.
People seemed to move about, in that eerie city he was evading.
So he had come into it at last, keeping out of the way of others, unwilling to risk colliding with one of those strange beings he sensed who were not actually people. They weren't UnSent, or fiends. They weren't anything, really, as far as he could tell. They felt as though they weren't there. Unsettling for one whose ability to combat enemies relied so heavily upon his unseen senses.
Now that he stood within the city, it felt off in the same way everything did, strange and empty even though it was full of people. Something false about this place was always ringing in his ears; were the people real people? Were the flowers real flowers? Was the food real food? Outside the flowershop, if he closed his eye he could smell the fresh jasmine and lilies as surely as if he'd been home.
But to look at them...
He scowled behind the collar of his coat and cover of his sunglasses, and leaned against the wall of the flower-shop, taking a moment to rest and gather his thoughts. What good was learning of this place when even confirming his suspicions didn't really give him any answers?
**
[Sorry if this isn't what's meant by third person logs; I don't feel comfortable with journal format so I'm trying to start a log, hopefully this is the correct way to do it. If not, let me know! T_T]
Also, feel free to join in and lurk around if you're the shy type or assail Auron if you're not. He doesn't actually bite, I promise.
In that moment, the bubble he was in snapped back and he was snapped back with it, staggering about and nearly falling to his knees before his body reconstituted into its proper shape and his mind (or maybe it was more accurate to say his will) felt fully whole again.
So it was in every direction; whether he pressed into the woods or the little low plains, towards the memory of mountains he thought he saw in the distance or even the sea. It was as though he stood in the midst of a bowl, holding a slice of the world in its smooth sphere, perfect and impossible. Day and night came and went like the real world.
People seemed to move about, in that eerie city he was evading.
So he had come into it at last, keeping out of the way of others, unwilling to risk colliding with one of those strange beings he sensed who were not actually people. They weren't UnSent, or fiends. They weren't anything, really, as far as he could tell. They felt as though they weren't there. Unsettling for one whose ability to combat enemies relied so heavily upon his unseen senses.
Now that he stood within the city, it felt off in the same way everything did, strange and empty even though it was full of people. Something false about this place was always ringing in his ears; were the people real people? Were the flowers real flowers? Was the food real food? Outside the flowershop, if he closed his eye he could smell the fresh jasmine and lilies as surely as if he'd been home.
But to look at them...
He scowled behind the collar of his coat and cover of his sunglasses, and leaned against the wall of the flower-shop, taking a moment to rest and gather his thoughts. What good was learning of this place when even confirming his suspicions didn't really give him any answers?
**
[Sorry if this isn't what's meant by third person logs; I don't feel comfortable with journal format so I'm trying to start a log, hopefully this is the correct way to do it. If not, let me know! T_T]
Also, feel free to join in and lurk around if you're the shy type or assail Auron if you're not. He doesn't actually bite, I promise.