action ][protects_herSeptember 10 2010, 16:42:40 UTC
[Lions belong in the woods, not on the beach. But it is dark, and Aslan's approach is silent; when Finnick does notice him, it's less that he heard him coming and more that some deep, inexplicable instinct drives him to look. When he spots the large silhouette moving toward him, his hand first slides through the sand, unconsciously reaching for a trident that isn't there. Then, searching blindly for any sort of weapon once this realization sinks in, his hand falls on a corner of his net and he quickly pulls it in toward him for a better grip, his eyes never leaving the shape in the shadows.
He is at much more of a disadvantage this time than he was the last time he fought a lion, even though the beach is his domain where the forest was the lion's. When it attacks--because of course it will attack, because why else would a lion come for him this way if not to attack--he will confound it with the net and run for the ocean, he decides grimly. A slim chance, to be sure, but it's the best one he has at the moment.
He readies himself, never taking his eyes off the shadow looming ever closer, and waits. Though what he's waiting for, he doesn't exactly know--the lion's lunge? The decoy cry of a frightened girl? Or, perhaps, something else entirely...something he cannot name.]
[Aslan's approach ceases when Finnick sees him and sees fit to arm himself with what weapons he has at hand. To the lion this is no point of alarm though he recognizes a warning. The young man has yet to strike him. He is waiting for the lion to strike first. That alone tells the King of the Wood more than words ever could.]
Will you stay your defenses if we are to speak, only?
action ][protects_herSeptember 11 2010, 01:52:03 UTC
[The sound of the lion's voice gives Finnick pause, and though the tension does not quite leave his shoulders at the sound, his grip on the net does relax somewhat. It's not so much the fact that it talks at all, since he has seen his share of talking animals as a result of the Capitol's experiments, and he knows that granting the capability for speech is not beyond their ability. It's the fact that there is intelligence behind the words, and understanding, and rationality. And that is why, despite his better judgment, he finds himself answering back--though whether he's really talking to Aslan or merely to himself, it isn't clear.]
[The lion finally continues approaching Finnick, his paws moving into the wet sand though a careful observation would show his direct path is not in line with Finnick's but to the side of him.
action ][protects_herSeptember 11 2010, 02:20:13 UTC
[For a fighter like Finnick, who relies on anticipating his opponent and ensnaring them in their own movements, it quickly becomes clear that the path the lion is taking is not an obviously predatory one. He relaxes further still, though he can't make himself let go of the net just yet.]
Are you here because of the one in the woods?
[It's not quite an answer, but it's close enough.]
An eye for an eye would make the whole world blind.
[And he looks at Finnick with sharp golden ones, as if he might be able to see through the young man but his expression is never accusatory, never cruel, however wild Aslan may be.]
action ][protects_herSeptember 12 2010, 03:32:04 UTC
[The comment hits doubly hard, since he still recalls all too well how he felled the lion in the first place--but the look gives him pause. This lion has the same eyes as the other, that same intelligence...that same way of knowing him, just by looking at him.]
Why do we fall to curses in this world? It's a magic with a nature and definition we are not meant to put to words. What happened happened, and for it I know you better.
action ][protects_herSeptember 12 2010, 03:46:42 UTC
...You were that lion. You're one and the same?
[But how? It's impossible...isn't it? The lion was dead. And yet, the thought makes him release the net from his fingers, bringing his hand back to wrap around his legs as he pulls his knees toward his chest.]
People keep asking if I believe in magic. Is that...what this is, why you're alive?
My life is rooted in a deeper magic transcending this world. Perhaps that's why you were brought to this one, so that by being here you may better understand what magic there is in your own world.
[And the lion continues walking into the water till his legs are completely submerged and the rolling waves brush against his broad chest.]
He is at much more of a disadvantage this time than he was the last time he fought a lion, even though the beach is his domain where the forest was the lion's. When it attacks--because of course it will attack, because why else would a lion come for him this way if not to attack--he will confound it with the net and run for the ocean, he decides grimly. A slim chance, to be sure, but it's the best one he has at the moment.
He readies himself, never taking his eyes off the shadow looming ever closer, and waits. Though what he's waiting for, he doesn't exactly know--the lion's lunge? The decoy cry of a frightened girl? Or, perhaps, something else entirely...something he cannot name.]
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Will you stay your defenses if we are to speak, only?
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What are you?
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[His question is simple and simultaneously complex, but this time it's no test.]
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Another talking lion.
[Because of course, it can't be the same one. Any similarity he sees must be only a trick of the light, and his own inexperience with them.]
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[The lion finally continues approaching Finnick, his paws moving into the wet sand though a careful observation would show his direct path is not in line with Finnick's but to the side of him.
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Are you here because of the one in the woods?
[It's not quite an answer, but it's close enough.]
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What has happened to the one in the woods that warrants my presence here now, with you?
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[It was dead. He killed it with his own hands. He knows this.]
But if you were here for revenge, I think you'd have done it by now.
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[And he looks at Finnick with sharp golden ones, as if he might be able to see through the young man but his expression is never accusatory, never cruel, however wild Aslan may be.]
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Then why? What do you want with me?
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[But how? It's impossible...isn't it? The lion was dead. And yet, the thought makes him release the net from his fingers, bringing his hand back to wrap around his legs as he pulls his knees toward his chest.]
People keep asking if I believe in magic. Is that...what this is, why you're alive?
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[And the lion continues walking into the water till his legs are completely submerged and the rolling waves brush against his broad chest.]
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[He scrambles to push himself up to his feet, taking a few steps toward the water before he's quite realized he's done it.]
What if...what if there isn't any? Doesn't that just make it worse, seeing what's possible here and knowing it can never be back there?
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[He looks at Finnick but continues to tread through the water. Will the young man from District 4 give chase? The sea is his element after all.]
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