(Untitled)

[morethanmyria]

Who: Garr and OPEN
When: A general weekend entry and one for a Friday afternoon (the latter at least within the last week or two, as Garr hasn't been employed that long)
Where: Winthers Lake, Name Of Generic Cheap Bar Here
Summary: A great big Buddhist space chicken gargoyle going about his days. Are you a bad enough dude to bother him?
Warnings:

Comments

I'm here, finally! :x Also, weekend @ park for whenever suits you!

[tinderfoot]

Tyrell likes to go exploring when he doesn't have much else to do. He'd never been much of a city kid, having grown up in the countryside his whole life, and while he'd gotten used to cities even from the first time he'd visited one, that still didn't mean he liked them.

It was even stranger in a place like Siren's Port where no-one could leave. He couldn't just go if he wanted to, and for once it wasn't obligations or lack of a boat tying him down. In this instance, there was literally nothing he could do.

One nice weekend day, he's taking a walk through this park he's found. It's nice, it's green and alive, but it's still not the same

Greetings! (._.)/

[morethanmyria]

He isn't meditating today - though it might as well be that, sitting here with a tree at his back and watching fish and turtles break the water's surface. The place could almost pass for any lake west of the Checkpoint, slow change of seasons and all. How many times did he make that journey? Day after day down the long dirt road to Wyndia and all the lands beyond. Decade after decade, though the houses and the villages along the way never quite stayed the same.

It's still strange to think that he'll never walk that road again.

Someone calls out, and Garr turns his head without startling. The red hair he remembers, though more than that he remembers their mutual misunderstanding.

He half-raises one massive hand in acknowledgement. "It's a large city. I guess even someone my size can vanish into it."

\o

[tinderfoot]

Tyrell waves back as he comes closer, his footsteps heavy but steady, leaving imprints of the soles of his boots in the grass. "Yeah, it sure is. At least ten times bigger than any city I'd ever visited back home, guaranteed."

He comes to a standstill when he's standing beside the tree wear Garr is sitting, and without asking for permission or anything else of the sort, he plops himself down as well, back against the bark, facing away. Maybe some people would consider it rude, but for Tyrell, the other's presence is enough to hold a conversation. "Do you often come out here?"

( ._.)/\o

[morethanmyria]

"Often enough. Steel and glass have little to offer me." Memories. The ruins, the desert. The two-headed beast in the house of God waking, uncoiling, spreading its wings, and then its twinned voice blowing out pane after pane of glass that no gun or spear could hope to shatter.

Tyrell might be rude by someone else's standards, but Garr personally prefers it that way. Wasting time on a lot of manners and permission and social niceties never was his style. "The city is so large it dwarfs the wilderness. I have no words for how backwards that is."

[tinderfoot]

"Mm, yeah." He's not sure if Garr can see from this angle, but Tyrell nods his head slightly, looking to the ground where his fingers have curled around tufts of grass. "I didn't even know they could make 'em this big. Or that they would want to. There's people living on top of other people they don't even know or talk to, here. Don't you think that's kinda weird?" Tyrell definitely thought it was strange; he could understand people from some far off-land not knowing who he who was (he was also used to them knowing who he was), but there was something discomforting about being ignorant of the name of a person you passed by every second day, along with the accompanying presumption that you didn't bother asking.

The more he thought about it, the more distressed it made him feel. Like he didn't matter. Like nothing mattered. Without really thinking about it, he pulled up a tuft of grass with one hand.

[morethanmyria]

"I do, yes. I have seen towns and kingdoms building upward, and my own village too, but never a people who lived quite like this." Perhaps Caer Xhan had been like Siren's Port in this way also, when it was a living place. A city of strangers, living all at once so close to and so distant from one another. All the more reason for God to mourn them, if it were so. They were doomed from the start.

A turtle lumbers slowly to the edge of a log and slides into the water. They will be asleep for the winter soon, no doubt. "Still, this is an island. I suppose there is simply nowhere else to go."

[tinderfoot]

He pulls up another tuft of grass before he can really stop himself, staring at the fresh blades between his fingers. "I know it's a bit much to think about, but what happens in hundreds of years if people still haven't found a way out of here? Won't they run out of room?"

Could they find a way out, even if it was to just the rest of this world and not back home? Or despite the stories of ships coming in, was the rest of the world just something that was talked about in books, something that didn't actually exist in this reality?

[morethanmyria]

Now there was an unpleasant thought, and the thought that he might well live long enough to find out was one less pleasant still. Garr made a sound as he considered it, low and deep in his chest, one that would have been a thoughtful hmmm from a smaller man. In him, it was more like the sound of stone grinding against stone.

"It's possible. War would probably follow." And, perhaps, the desert would be following close behind. Overpopulation on the island would not be a problem again.

Caer Xhan indeed.

[tinderfoot]

The sound that Garr made was a bit unsettling; Tyrell felt the hair rise on bare forearms before he had the chance to remind himself, unsuccessfully, to calm down. He couldn't, because the more he thought about the repercussions of what they were talking about, the more futile everything felt. War. People always seemed to fight in times of desperate need. It would be stupid to assume that this world would be anything different. "I wonder how long it will take to come to that." Would be it be several centuries, like he had assessed previously? Wars in larger countries had sprung up in a fraction of the time.

[morethanmyria]

"Hard to say. The population here grows and shrinks and grows again in the blink of an eye." He looked up at nothing, and the hard curve of his horns rasped faintly against the rough bark when they touched it.

"If it were only up to people having children, I think that it would be a long time. Perhaps a very long time, for life is dangerous, and people also die. But here...it might be another thousand years. Or it might be tomorrow."