and the words repeat, breathing histories into stories untold
It had been exactly a month since he had arrived on the island, and Angel wasn’t feeling any more relaxed. This was supposed to be a vacation - albeit one that he hadn’t chosen for himself. Sun, surf, sand - an idyllic tropical island. The kind that he’d only dreamed about visiting in the daylight.
The novelty had been nice for the first week or so. But even that had worn off by now, and he was left with a distinct feeling of purposelessness and a heavy amount of thinking to do and lots of time to do it. He should be happy. He and Buffy were - well, Angel wasn’t quite sure what they were, but it was a good thing, and good things so rarely happened to Angel.
Yet there were things that he couldn’t forget. His mission, for one. Even if this was the Shanshu Prophecy come to pass - and it wasn’t - there was no need to forget what he’d destined himself for, even if there was a limit on how much he could do as a human. And even though the residents of the island didn’t seem like they needed a whole lot of helping. And then there was that business with Sookie that he couldn't seem to get out of his head. It was something he needed to check out - these stories that were written that were written about him and Buffy. The only problem was that if faced with the possibility of knowing the end, Angel knows that he'll take it. No matter if there's nothing he can do about his fate on the island. What if everything he'd ever believed in was meaningless? Or were these stories based on his life, and how much did they know? There were too many questions that he needed answered.
Tai Chi was a way to escape. He’d picked it up somewhere along the line - perhaps thirty or so years ago, and he was pretty good at it. Not only did it discipline the mind, but it strengthened the body as well. He moves his arms in an arc, palms flat, trying to keep them as steady and graceful as he can - adjusting to his lack of strength. He shifts his legs fluidly in the other direction, brows furrowed in concentration as he holds the position.
The shaded, secluded part of the forest was good for this kind of thing, he’d found early on - surrounded only by the occasional sound of nature and the now acute beating of his own heart. It was perturbing, almost, after being faced with silence for so long.
[OOC - ST/LT all welcome! All things considered it's a pretty good time to meet him.]
The novelty had been nice for the first week or so. But even that had worn off by now, and he was left with a distinct feeling of purposelessness and a heavy amount of thinking to do and lots of time to do it. He should be happy. He and Buffy were - well, Angel wasn’t quite sure what they were, but it was a good thing, and good things so rarely happened to Angel.
Yet there were things that he couldn’t forget. His mission, for one. Even if this was the Shanshu Prophecy come to pass - and it wasn’t - there was no need to forget what he’d destined himself for, even if there was a limit on how much he could do as a human. And even though the residents of the island didn’t seem like they needed a whole lot of helping. And then there was that business with Sookie that he couldn't seem to get out of his head. It was something he needed to check out - these stories that were written that were written about him and Buffy. The only problem was that if faced with the possibility of knowing the end, Angel knows that he'll take it. No matter if there's nothing he can do about his fate on the island. What if everything he'd ever believed in was meaningless? Or were these stories based on his life, and how much did they know? There were too many questions that he needed answered.
Tai Chi was a way to escape. He’d picked it up somewhere along the line - perhaps thirty or so years ago, and he was pretty good at it. Not only did it discipline the mind, but it strengthened the body as well. He moves his arms in an arc, palms flat, trying to keep them as steady and graceful as he can - adjusting to his lack of strength. He shifts his legs fluidly in the other direction, brows furrowed in concentration as he holds the position.
The shaded, secluded part of the forest was good for this kind of thing, he’d found early on - surrounded only by the occasional sound of nature and the now acute beating of his own heart. It was perturbing, almost, after being faced with silence for so long.
[OOC - ST/LT all welcome! All things considered it's a pretty good time to meet him.]