Hiro was down in the bar again. He was, sadly, rather preoccupied with a certain brand of woe here. But that didn't mean he wasn't trying to figure out a way to do something about it
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Eugene had found his way outside once again, prior to leaving back to England and the impending jump into Holland, enjoying the peaceful quiet atmosphere. His jumpbooted feet crunched the ground around the lake as he walked with his hands in his jacket pockets. Something about the sound of the waves on the shore was intoxicateing...
Stepping around a rock on the shore put the paratrooper medic a stones throw away from the odd man doing something with a very large stack of paper. With curiosity perked, Gene slowly starts to make his way over to Hiro watching as he folds the paper in intricate ways. "Nev'r seens som'one doin tha' 'fore.." comes the drawled out words.
Five cranes. Six cranes. Seven cranes. The pudgy little man is rather good at this.
He doens't look up, but speaks heavily accented English: "The crane is the promise of love and longevity, symbol of fidelity..." Even if it sounds more like fiderity out of Hiro's lips. "My people used to believe that if you could fold a thousand cranes, you could have a wish granted..."
Tilting his head slightly, a thoughtful frown crosses the medic's face as he moves over closer. Crouching down his jumpboots squeek slightly in protest though the man says nothing for a moment. Gene removes his hands from his pockets resting them on the ground infront of him while giving the paper cranes a look over.
"Mus' be'n important wish to bes aimin t' make 'thousand of 'em." Finally dark eyes flicker up at Hiro, narrowing slightly in slight confusion before he finally takes a seat upon the ground.
There is a blond man in dark blue and turquoise clothing on his way from the mountains in the distance back to the Bar. Today Belar answered his people's prayers from up in the mountains, since they felt a little more like home than the Mongolian steppes did, and he can be a little childish that way. He's heading back to the Mongols when he leaves the bar, but for now he's just strolling.
The man with the paper catches his interest, though, so his course swerves just a little bit in Hiro's direction before he pauses at a respectful distance.
The cranes keep going. Eight, nine, ten. Keeping them penned up in baskets, little wings folding over one another, as they 'nest' together, the flock getting larger.
Belar's seen this kind of intensity before, and this sort of intention. You don't interrupt that.
You do, however, take a moment to murmur something very quiet to the wind and the air and the ground below. And if you're Belar, you release your Will at the same time, the wind and the air and the ground listen. The wind will be still in the area, and not disturb Hiro's paper flock. The temperature will stay comfortable, and the ground dry, even if it was wet when Hiro sat down. And there'll be light enough to see by.
Nathan had stopped out to take an after dinner stroll. Nothing like the other night when he ran into Peter. Feet firmly on the ground this time. The music, and the little camp set up drew him closer. Trying to see who was there.
Paper cranes are a subject that interests Tilda. She wanders outside with the intent of finding someplace to set up shop for making explosives, but is destracted by the origami.
"Hello," she says cheerfully. "Would you like some help with that?"
"Yep!" Enthusiastic nod. "I love making paper cranes. They're so simple and pretty."
She takes a piece of bright pink origami paper out of the bag on her shoulder and gives it a glance. It rises a few inches into the air and folds itself neatly into a crane (her eyes never leave it during this process), which then falls back into her hand.
"See? Here you go!" And the crane is offered to Hiro along with a slightly shy adorable smile.
Bill is strolling along the lake's edge enjoying being out for a bit. He's still a bit leary of fishing out here but has an eye out for spots that might be promising some other time.
He's not in uniform right now, just jeans and a plaid shirt. Coming across the man with the growing flock of cranes around him he stops and tilts his head. He expected to perhaps find wildlife out here, just not of the paper variety.
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Stepping around a rock on the shore put the paratrooper medic a stones throw away from the odd man doing something with a very large stack of paper. With curiosity perked, Gene slowly starts to make his way over to Hiro watching as he folds the paper in intricate ways. "Nev'r seens som'one doin tha' 'fore.." comes the drawled out words.
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He doens't look up, but speaks heavily accented English: "The crane is the promise of love and longevity, symbol of fidelity..." Even if it sounds more like fiderity out of Hiro's lips. "My people used to believe that if you could fold a thousand cranes, you could have a wish granted..."
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"Mus' be'n important wish to bes aimin t' make 'thousand of 'em." Finally dark eyes flicker up at Hiro, narrowing slightly in slight confusion before he finally takes a seat upon the ground.
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"First one wasn't granted," he says quietly, perhaps a little mournful as each crane takes shape. "Maybe this one will be."
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The man with the paper catches his interest, though, so his course swerves just a little bit in Hiro's direction before he pauses at a respectful distance.
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Hiro doesn't look up at the stranger.
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You do, however, take a moment to murmur something very quiet to the wind and the air and the ground below. And if you're Belar, you release your Will at the same time, the wind and the air and the ground listen. The wind will be still in the area, and not disturb Hiro's paper flock. The temperature will stay comfortable, and the ground dry, even if it was wet when Hiro sat down. And there'll be light enough to see by.
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Hiro doesn't quite notice -- he does relax, fractionaly, but it's something small.
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty cranes. Nine hundred and eighty to go.
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He's rather intent on those little things.
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"Hiro?" He called.
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Well, this is a nice bit of sunshine. He can smile for Nathan.
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"Hello," she says cheerfully. "Would you like some help with that?"
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"...ano?" Hiro blinks at the girl. "Ah-- you know-- origami?"
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She takes a piece of bright pink origami paper out of the bag on her shoulder and gives it a glance. It rises a few inches into the air and folds itself neatly into a crane (her eyes never leave it during this process), which then falls back into her hand.
"See? Here you go!" And the crane is offered to Hiro along with a slightly shy adorable smile.
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Twenty-one cranes.
"Thank you. You-- have power, too?"
He folds another as he speaks, his eyes going back to the crane. Twenty-two.
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He's not in uniform right now, just jeans and a plaid shirt. Coming across the man with the growing flock of cranes around him he stops and tilts his head. He expected to perhaps find wildlife out here, just not of the paper variety.
"Like birds?" He guesses, watching as Hiro folds.
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...yeah, someone didn't get the doubles memo.
Twenty-six cranes. Twenty-seven.
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"Cranes are like, lucky right?" He heard that somewhere, he can't quite place where.
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"...So, you ... related to Mal?" he asks, after a moment. Forty-seven cranes.
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