JANUARY CATCH-ALL

[burnseternal]

WHO: Saint Walker & misc.
WHERE: Around the Porter Cities.
WHEN: January.
WHAT: Saint Walker meets a few new people -- and possibly friends!
WARNINGS: N/A! This is just a regular old catch-all. If you'd like to thread with Saint Walker, I'd love to have you! Just shoot me a PM, or plurk me at feygasm.

Comments

L'ARACHEL

[burnseternal]

[Continued from: here.

Saint Walker follows L'Arachel obediently, and despite his assertion of the title of Saint, he shows absolutely no compunction with holding her books for her. He is happy to be of service, and it is of little consequence for him to assist L'Arachel as she grows accustomed to this new place she has found herself in.

A little cheekily, he says,] If all you wish for is glowing, then that can certainly be arranged.

[On cue, his ring pulses, and he's framed in a rather mystical looking blue light. It's a foolish use of his powers, perhaps, but he can't help teasing a little when such an opportunity presents itself. After a moment, the glow fades, and Saint Walker sets to answering her question a little more thoroughly.]

To be a Saint among my people is to act as a spiritual guide. My people looked towards me to assist them in their journeys, for advice, for solidarity, for peace. I led them in meditation, and in prayer. It is a humbling task.

[lightandglory]

Of course it's not all I--oh! Oh my! [She was preparing to give him a thorough run-down of everything else a saint should be, but cuts herself off and raises a hand to her mouth in surprise, because she was definitely not expecting him to actually start glowing. Congratulations, Saint Walker, you've left L'Arachel at a loss for words.

She does recover herself very quickly, though.] ...Yes, well then! I've never known holy radiance to be blue... but I will concede that you do, in fact, glow.

[L'Arachel listens to his explanation, considers it carefully for a few moments, brows furrowing... and appears to decide that it will serve.]

A priest, then. [It's a statement, not a question. Surely that's the only thing he could be.] I suppose most saints do begin as priests... Very well. Perhaps it won't be necessary for me to lecture you on blasphemy after all.

[Goodness knows she was ready to. But this is an interesting development. Has she by chance stumbled across someone of great holy power? Someone who, perhaps, benefits from a degree of divine favour akin to her own?

Her face lights up then, as suddenly as if someone had flipped a switch.] Oh, but this is perfect! It's surely the work of divine providence! Yes, our meeting today can only be by the will of the gods, for you see, I am also a spiritual guide to a great many people! My dear friend Eirika could never have sealed the Demon King without my wise counsel, and of course, I will one day bear the spiritual welfare of an entire nation upon my shoulders as Queen.

[She claps her hands excitedly.] How wonderful! We have something else to discuss over teatime! Now, what sort of tea do you prefer, Sir Walker?

[Even if she's not going to dispute the title of Saint, it would still feel very strange for her to call him one. You don't walk down the street chatting with a saint.]

[burnseternal]

I assure you that it would not be necessary for you to lecture me on blasphemy no matter what I was calling myself, [Saint Walker says, and though his voice is gentle, it's also firm. He doubts that he agrees with what others believe to be blasphemy here, let alone people from several different universes, but if there's one thing that he's confident in, it's his own beliefs. Perhaps they are more tolerant than others, but he wouldn't have them any other way.]

But I would very much enjoy speaking of spiritual matters with you, L'Arachel... over a cup of green tea, I think, though I've found that I enjoy most of this world's offerings. [Happily, he does not insist that she call him Saint. He doesn't insist that anyone call him as such, in fact; he doesn't even correct people when they call him bugface. It seems immaterial to him.] In your world, then, is the royal family considered to be bringers of spiritual guidance, or are you simply a particularly extraordinary case?

[lightandglory]

I'm glad to hear it. [And she is. She tones down her excited smile, but it remains a smile.] Blasphemy is a very big deal, and as Princess of Rausten, I have a sacred responsibility to defend the good names of the saints and the gods. If someone who was not a saint were to go around calling himself one, why, I would have no choice but to set him right at once! ...And as I find you to be very pleasant company so far, I'm relieved that you do, perhaps, have some legitimate claim to the title.

[Even one that stretches her definition of it. Traditions and rules should not be broken except at great need, but L'Arachel has never had any qualms about stretching them.]

Green tea... yes, I believe I picked up a little of that to try. [She's picked up a little of almost everything to try. There's probably green tea in there somewhere.] And to answer your question: both! I am naturally quite extraordinary, but Rausten is a theocracy in which the head of the royal family presides over both church and state. We are, after all, descendants of the blessed Saint Latona, one of the Five Heroes! --Oh, and that reminds me, I must tell you all about the Demon King as well!

[burnseternal]

[Naturally quite extraordinary, hm? That's one thing that Saint Walker certainly won't be contesting, though he finds her attitude to be rather infectious.]

It seems that there is much that you must tell me about, L'Arachel. Though, of course, if you prefer that I refer to you as Princess L'Arachel, you need only say the word.

[Titles are important. There's a reason why Saint Walker refers to himself as Saint even now, and though he doesn't mind when others leave it off, it is nevertheless the way that he thinks of himself.]

Is your home close to here?

FUU

[burnseternal]

[Continued from: here.]

"I am glad that you do not. I urge you to hold onto that feeling, to continue empathizing with those around you. It is far too easy for some to feel angry and resentful, and while I understand this tendency, it is unhelpful for the establishment of peace -- both with them, and within yourself."

Peace was what Saint Walker tries to preach, if at all possible. To respond to anger with more anger would always lead to a long, potentially tragic circle of distrust and abuse when all they really need to do is understand each other. Already, Saint Walker could note that people here were so fearful, fearful of this new world they found themselves in, or fearful of those from other realms. Saint Walker could not blame others for such feelings, but he could gently guide all of those that he met in the right direction.

Still, more than Fuu's understanding piqued his curiosity. "You speak of those summoned from other words with some familiarity. This is something that you have experienced in the past?"

[monster_san]

How interesting... this man spoke like a cleric. Was he a priest of whatever religion was practiced on his home planet? It would certainly explain why he identified himself as 'Saint'.

"Anger and resentment is something I do my best to avoid," she assured him. "I don't wish to cause harm in any fashion." Whether physical or emotional, she had experienced enough of both to know how uniquely unpleasant they were, and had every desire to avoid inflicting that on others.

She smiled a bit when he asked about her previous experience. Fuu didn't think she ought to conceal it in a situation like this, though she would keep some of the details to herself. "I was summoned to a place very different from Earth, not all that long ago," she said. "So I suppose that would make me an experienced traveler."

[burnseternal]

"Then you speak as one who has been in this position before," Saint Walker says, agreeably. That's curious. When she spoke of those coming from other realms causing trouble, he assumed that those from other realms entered her world, not the other way around. That means, perhaps, that she is the one who was causing trouble... or perhaps her comrades were. He will have to wait and see.

"You are more experienced than most. More experienced than I am, certainly. Traveling between realms themselves is something of a new experience to me. If you do not mind telling me as much, why is it that you have identified our presence here as troublesome to the natives?"

[monster_san]

"Hm... well, perhaps in this case, we aren't so much," Fuu said, touching her fingers to her cheek. "The Americans appear to have an organized system around this." Still, her statement did warrant some elaboration. "However--when unexpectedly transported out of their world world, some people can get rather panicky."

She smiled genuinely now, remembering how Umi had browbeaten poor Guru Clef. "And, sometimes, panicky people can be very rude to people who are trying to explain things. Or violate local etiquette in other ways, or blunder into dangerous areas. This can all be very annoying."

[burnseternal]

"Unfortunately, the locals here fear much more than the annoyances of running into those who are rude, or who merely violate etiquette. In fact, they have been rather kind as I discovered what is and is not considered to be proper here on Earth," Saint Walker said, and though he wholly believed his own words, what little kindnesses he received was because of his good etiquette. There was very little that he did that would be considered impolite in any avenue of common society save for, perhaps, his inclination to dwell too long in public places, and to ask far, far too many questions.

But if he could at all take advantage of being an alien in a human world, he would. Most wrote off his natural inclination towards curiosity as nothing more than an odd tic of an alien, but truth be told, he would have been regarded as a nosy sort on his own world as well, had it not come with the authority of being a religious leader.

"Did you and your companions undergo much hardship in this new world you had visited, then?"

FOR GREGOR

[burnseternal]

[Saint Walker had lived underneath a roof at one point, but it feels like a lifetime ago. Even without living off of the land alone, his house had been a small, humble one, with wide open windows, with the earth practically spilling inside. The homey suburbs of Heropa, while extremely comfortable, simply seems too far removed from the land for Saint Walker's comfort, so even if the parks are too manicured for his liking, he finds himself walking there day after day anyway, content to simply dwell underneath the trees.

It's still early enough in the evening for the sun to be out, but the park is quiet, empty, all of its usual inhabitants shying away from the mid-January chill. For anyone else who ventures out, Saint Walker is a conspicuous sight, and not only because he is extremely visibly alien; he is wearing his Blue Lantern uniform, and in his arms, he's carrying a solid light construct that appears to be a cross between a lyre and a harp.

He plucks at the strings, nothing but simple, calming chords as he looks across the horizon, seemingly content to watch whatever passes him by.]

[vorbarra]

[As he'd mentioned to a few people, being on Earth at all, regardless of time period or universe, is quite exciting for Gregor. He'd probably never have an opportunity to do it at home, unless some diplomatic incident arose that necessitated it. But it'd give Imperial Security fits, given that Earth is five wormhole jumps away from Barrayar, so it'd have to be of major importance for him to get sent.

Which is why he's spent a fair amount of time wandering around just looking at things, taking it all in, once things had settled in Heropa. The first week here had been a whirlwind of activity, but Gregor is starting to adjust. He's poked around De Chima, where he lives, and has now started progressing to the other Porter destinations, starting with Heropa. He revels in not having anyone tail him at all. Not even Miles can complain about that, given their telepathic link; it's the biggest shortcut to an emergency signal he could ask for.

When he sees someone obviously alien playing a light construct like an instrument, his curiosity takes a sharp uptick. At first, he merely stands nearby quietly, a tall, lean, dark form in black button-up shirt and new jeans. His eyes are somber but attentive.

He waits until there's a natural pause in the chords to say,] That sounds lovely. Very atmospheric. [Even a well-manicured park like this is incredibly lush to Gregor; Barrayar has to carefully, meticulously groom Earth plants to get them to grow, making everything very deliberate and planned out. Barrayaran native plants are all reds and browns. Seeing this kind of uncontrolled greenery is a little wondrous to him, and the calm music just adds to it.]

[burnseternal]

[Saint Walker looks up, but he does not cease playing. It doesn't take very much effort for him to continue doing so as they converse; he does little more than pluck gently at the strings, allowing the music to almost dissipate in the background. It's not music that's meant to engage anyone. On the contrary, he tends to use it for assistance when he senses a troubled soul around, as something that soothes without being quite as obvious as Saint Walker's preaching.

He does, however, smile at this stranger, nothing but fondness in his large, black eyes.]

I thank you for the compliment! [He says brightly, slowly plucking another chord.] That is indeed what I am aiming for. I would hate to disrupt anyone's thoughts. And it seems to me that you, brother, have been enjoying this park for some time.

[As absorbed in his own music as he may look, he's been watching.]

Is it your first time here?

[vorbarra]

[Gregor had been wondering if it would be rude to interrupt, but apparently not. Goodness, he's cheerful. And calling him brother is not something Gregor has ever had done, by anyone, except in the oblique sort of way he and Miles are sometimes referred to as foster-brothers.

He blinks at him for a moment but then forms a slight smile. Gregor's natural reticence is overcome quite neatly by the surroundings and by such an unarguably benevolent musician.]

In the park? Yes. On Earth? Yes, also. My planet had a difficult time terraforming; unchecked greenery like this isn't common except in the mountains. It's going to take a while for me to stop marveling at it in its original form, [he says ruefully.]

[burnseternal]

To me, this place seems manufactured, [Saint Walker says, a touch ruefully.] I only wish that I could show those such as yourself the land that I hail from, and what the soil is able to provide when allowed to grow unfettered.

[Astonia had been beautiful. Saint Walker remembers the way the greenery nearly threatened to encompass each of their dwellings, the paths they had built through the mountain forests, the peace of it all as they passed through rocky gatherings and running waters. After that had been Mogo, a world that is alive in and of itself, and not only metaphorically, and after that had been Odym.

He's been blessed to have the opportunity to see so much natural beauty in his life. It saddens him to see the cities here, and how the Earth's connection to nature dwindles. There is no need to dwell on such things, however, so his smile does not abate.]

Nevertheless, I am glad to hear that in this, you have an opportunity to catch a glimpse of natural life. The world that you are from must be very different from anything that I have ever seen and is beautiful, I am sure, in its own ways. I must say, though, you appear to be wholly human to my eyes.

[His question is implicit; if Gregor is human, then why has he never stepped foot on Earth prior to being transported here?]

HAL JORDAN

[burnseternal]

[Hello, Hal Jordan. Welcome to a thrilling hour of Texting With Saint Walker, also known as: trying to text message someone who writes like an eighty year old man. Saint Walker caught onto the whole typing thing pretty fast for a guy who's lived without technology his entire life, but writing casually? That much eludes him.]

Dear Hal Jordan,

I am writing you because I have been informed by my roommate, the Doctor, that Earth has some unique festivities to celebrate the new year. He has told me that it is categorized by alcohol, kissing, and fireworks. The first two are beyond me, but I have procured a great deal of the third.

If you wish to join me on December 31st, please respond to this correspondence. It would be a shame for my household to enjoy the fireworks alone.

And, in all fairness, it would be very useful to be accompanied by someone who already has a passing familiarity with them.

-Saint Walker

[aviate]

[When Hal receives the message he does indeed snigger at the thought of Saint Walker drinking and kissing.]

I don't think you should be taking earth celebration tips from a guy who calls himself 'the doctor' but he's not wrong here

but I'll be there and I know you said you don't do booze but its new years and I do so I'm bringing something. also food. are your roommates joining us

[He doesn't want to go in costume, but he'll have to if they're not alone to avoid explaining how he personally knows an alien on his world.]

[burnseternal]

He has not led me astray so I believe that I will continue taking his advice. I can, of course, take your advice as well. I appreciate all perspectives that are offered to me.

The Doctor may be joining us for some time. My other roommate, Hazel, may do so reluctantly. I do not believe that she is very fond of me, but there is nothing like a celebration to pique another's attention. You may bring another as well, if you like.

[aviate]

is hazel dead inside or something how does anyone not like you

I prob won't bring anyone the two identities thing is tiring as hell but I have to keep it up for everyone and don't say anything about guy I'm not going to follow his advice ever

[burnseternal]

[This takes Saint Walker a moment to parse. Why, Hal Jordan, why do you not text with impeccable grammar?]

While I thank you for your kindness, I am certain that there are many that dislike me, Hal Jordan. I do not take it personally.

[...usually he finds it pretty funny.]

I do not know which guy you speak of, but if it makes matters easier, it is possible for us to be friends in both identities. It is hardly as if I would not make any new allies during my time here, and we are very nearly neighbours.

sometime after jan 13 aka after the canon update, doctor who spoilers yo

[helpline]

[ He's got to tell somebody. He's got to puzzle out just how exactly he's going to do this. He doesn't remember Clara from home. He wiped his memory of her to keep her safe, to keep the Time Lords off her trail, to keep her alive. He remembers what they did, he just doesn't remember her. So surprise surprise, when the Doctor gets back home, he scrolled through conversations he had missed and what do you know. Clara Oswald, here, in the flesh, possibly someone who still thinks he remembers her when he absolutely doesn't.

The Doctor simply doesn't know what to do. So, he's going to talk it over and ask for help. He knows Saint Walker's in, he could hear the other man enter. Getting up from his bed (where he had been laying down and staring at the ceiling in true 'mulling it over' fashion), the Doctor walked over to Saint Walker's room and knocked three times on the door. ]

Hullo, Doctor here, do you happen to be in?

LET'S DO THIS

[burnseternal]

Of course.

[Saint Walker pads over to the door and swings it open. It's likely predictable what state Saint Walker's bedroom is in. His bed is neatly made with sparse sheets, and his room is otherwise bare, save for a small, neatly stacked pile of books beside his bed, and a few small pots on his desk containing soy wax and various aromatics.

It is, at least an excessively peaceful looking place, and a perfect one for difficult discussions.]

What can I do for you, Doctor?

[helpline]

[ The Doctor enters, looking around the room. It's a direct contrast to his (hella messy, barely enough space on the bed to sleep it's so covered with half-finished projects). And ah, how best to describe this...how best to deal with what he did, with his mistakes, and how he's confronted with the direct result here. ]

No way like bluntness, I suppose, [ the Doctor responds, more to himself than to Saint Walker. And then, fixing the alien with a small little frown, he continues. ] Something happened back home. I went too far, I broke all my rules and, as such, I've forgotten everything about a woman named Clara.

[ The Clara that is most definitely, most decidedly here. The Doctor doesn't have to say it, he just looks at Saint Walker with an expression that's pure defeat, pure 'I have no idea what to do in this situation.' Hopefully he can put the pieces together. ]

[burnseternal]

Ah. [Saint Walker says, somehow managing to inject a world of meaning in a single syllable. What the Doctor has come to speak with him about today is something that must be far, far more complicated than Saint Walker had anticipated once he had opened the door. One construct reaches across the room to take a pillow from his bed to place it on the ground, and he steps out the door briefly to wind a construct downstairs. There's a quiet click, and the telltale sound of the stove turning on.]

This is a discussion that requires a sit down, I think -- and a cup of tea. Please, sit.

[He sits down across from the cushion - he takes none for himself - and gestures for the Doctor to follow suit.]

Perhaps you can begin by telling me more of your relationship with Clara.

[helpline]

I'm more of a coffee person, but tea. Tea's alright. [ He could deal with tea. He enters the room, looking around and eyeing the constructs (he'll have to ask about those. Some other time though, not now). And isn't that the million dollar question. What's his relationship with Clara. ]

That's the problem, isn't it, [ the Doctor simply remarks, sitting down on the floor, legs crossed, like some giant spindly spider. ] I know she's important to me. I broke all the rules of time to try and save her, even trying to break death itself. She must have been important to me, I don't do that for just anyone. And yet, I can't remember a thing about her. I can't remember her personality, the way she smiled, her eyes, her voice. She's important, and yet...

[ And yet, how important could she be now, if he couldn't pick her up out of a line-up? If, when he scrolled through his past conversations, he came face to face with him talking to someone he didn't recognize, and talking to her like they were oh so close. Clara Oswald's memory might have vanished from his mind, but it didn't vanish from everybody else's. And he feels terrible about how when he inevitably boots up the comm, inevitably makes a post, this Clara will respond and he'll have absolutely no idea who she is. ]