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Fifth Sin - [Action / Written]
[Something was different in Luceti. He could feel it. In truth, it was at first an unfamiliar sensation. The power that coursed through him was not one he did not fully understand. He had never claimed that power for himself, but through some divine trick, he had received it. Partially, anyway. But for as long as he held it, there seemed to be an emptiness. Like a void that needed to be filled. Whenever he spoke with that boy from the forest, that gnawing feeling was stronger. But lately that small, almost unnoticeable craving, seemed like it was split in two.
As if the final piece was finally within grasp.
But as tempting as tearing Luceti apart to find it seemed, he knew it would be foolhardy. Confident as he was in his power, his chest still ached from his wound. He was far from invulnerable. He had spent time trying to contact Nala, but her trust was not as easily obtained as the other spirits. But he was restless. He needed to focus his attentions on something. Meditating on the spirits wasn't enough.
Today he once more went without his armor, instead choosing the old and familiar black robes, the ones he wore as he studied black magic with his surrogate mothers. It was hardly from sentimentality, though. They simply offered more protection from the harsh winter weather. The chill was less likely to penetrate the bindings around his chest this way. That was his intention, anyway. Today was colder than it had been for awhile. A man of the desert was not meant for this sort of chill.
Unlike most days, Ganondorf remains in the village. He is waiting and watching for someone to appear, so he cannot wander into the forests or mountains as he often does. He spends some time in the library researching magic, later moving on to the smithy merely to browse, later to the clothing store to find something warm to protect his ears, and the general store to make a cursory look for familiar trinkets from his own world. When he grows tired of searching the shops, he goes to the bar for a stiff drink. After being in the cold so long, he needs something to dull the aching pain in his chest. While he is there, he leaves a message on the journals:]
[Locked against others from his world]
I seek to learn the healing arts. The Filial spirit known as Nala is insufficient to my needs.
((ooc: each conversation on the journal he has will be a private filter between him and the other person))
As if the final piece was finally within grasp.
But as tempting as tearing Luceti apart to find it seemed, he knew it would be foolhardy. Confident as he was in his power, his chest still ached from his wound. He was far from invulnerable. He had spent time trying to contact Nala, but her trust was not as easily obtained as the other spirits. But he was restless. He needed to focus his attentions on something. Meditating on the spirits wasn't enough.
Today he once more went without his armor, instead choosing the old and familiar black robes, the ones he wore as he studied black magic with his surrogate mothers. It was hardly from sentimentality, though. They simply offered more protection from the harsh winter weather. The chill was less likely to penetrate the bindings around his chest this way. That was his intention, anyway. Today was colder than it had been for awhile. A man of the desert was not meant for this sort of chill.
Unlike most days, Ganondorf remains in the village. He is waiting and watching for someone to appear, so he cannot wander into the forests or mountains as he often does. He spends some time in the library researching magic, later moving on to the smithy merely to browse, later to the clothing store to find something warm to protect his ears, and the general store to make a cursory look for familiar trinkets from his own world. When he grows tired of searching the shops, he goes to the bar for a stiff drink. After being in the cold so long, he needs something to dull the aching pain in his chest. While he is there, he leaves a message on the journals:]
[Locked against others from his world]
I seek to learn the healing arts. The Filial spirit known as Nala is insufficient to my needs.
((ooc: each conversation on the journal he has will be a private filter between him and the other person))
[written]
Well, if you say so, I guess. Did you want me to contact you when I make progress? If I can. Should I contact you even if I don't?
[written]
[written]
[ She shuts her journal after that, staring pensively at the ceiling. Kind of a strange man ... but she'd still try to help him, anyway. ]