maskormenacelogs | So life goes on

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So life goes on

WHO: Sabriel
WHERE: De Chima and everywhere else!
WHEN: Throughout February
WHAT: Sabriel lives her life and meets some people
WARNINGS: None yet!

Raskin Bobbins, De Chima

[Even wearing the shop's uniform, Sabriel looks slightly out of place as she scoops ice cream. She didn't need to take the job- not for the money at least, but while her work with RISE was what she wanted to do, it felt... not entirely right to just ignore what she'd been assigned.

So once a week, she ties on an apron and works in the shop. Her manager's intimidated by her, but she's managed to be conversational with some of her coworkers.

At least things aren't too busy. Winter really isn't the time for ice cream. Which is probably a good thing- it means a line isn't forming behind the man who's more interested in pestering Sabriel for an autograph than ordering ice cream, and while Sabriel's wearing a pleasant smile, she can feel her patience running out.]

Sir. That's enough- place an order, or leave.

[Sabriel's about to snap at the man when someone else enters the store, and she forces a polite smile back onto her face, pointedly ignoring the man in front of her.]

Welcome to Raskin-Bobbins!

De Chima Residence 007

[After the shock of the blackout, Sabriel's taking steps to be prepared next time. Some of it's fairly normal- carefully stored canned and preserved foods being brought into the basement, along with stacks of firewood. Then there's the first aid kits, and the backpacks filled with emergency supplies in the closet closest to the door.

Sabriel's been an imPort long enough to see such preparations as sensible, rather than paranoid. She doesn't know when something else will happen, or what it will be, but another incident is practically guaranteed. So she's hauling more boxes into the basement from her car as she turns to her housemates.]

There's just one one more box. Would you mind going and getting it for me?

De Chima, training

[There's a clearing in the woods that Sabriel likes to visit. The air is clear and crisp, the leaves crumpled and trampled by several weeks of sword practice, and several scorched and splintered trees show the results of practicing the more destructive aspects of Charter magic.

At the moment, Sabriel's surrounded by Charter marks that cast strange shadows on the trees. She's linking them together in intricate chains, then letting them unravel and fade back into the Charter- it's more of an exercise in meditation than a practice of spellcasting. Her sword and a backpack rest on a nearby tree trunk, but Sabriel is too immersed in the Charter to pay much attention to her surroundings.]

closed to jacksonian
[Sabriel's picked out one of the nicer restaurants in Maurtia Falls for this. She's wearing a suit rather than a dress, but this isn't a date- simply a thank you. She's fussing with her shirt cuffs as she waits outside for him, but doesn't seem particularly impatient.]

closed to hypnotherapy
[Magicman gets a hug as soon as he walks through the door. Sabriel's not always the most expressive person, but he's one of the people she's known here the longest.]

It's good to see you! [She's genuinely smiling as she leads him into the kitchen- it's clean and tidy, since neither Sabriel or Ulvida are prone to being slovenly.]

Do you want to get started? I should probably learn more recipes, since I'm not just cooking for one person anymore.

closed to grimreaping
[The restaurant Sabriel's picked for lunch isn't particularly fancy, but it's cozy. She's wearing a dark grey sweater, already seated at a table for two and reading a book while she waits- not impatiently, but eagerly. She's made friends here, but Kid is one of the few who truly understands her role and responsibilities as Abhorsen, and her connection to Death.

Which makes him the best person to discuss the supernatural implications of recent happenings. At least, that's what Sabriel tells herself.]

closed to classification

[De Chima 007 looks like relatively normal imPort housing. Neither Sabriel or her housemates aren't prone to being slobs, so the closest thing to 'strange' Locus might notice is that on close inspection, the occasional faint symbol drifts over the surface of the door and exterior wall before vanishing.

Locus will probably recognize Sabriel as soon as she opens the door, but she regards him with a look of polite incomprehension. She was expecting Felix to pick up Leon, and has never met Locus with his mask off.]

Can I help you? [He doesn't look like a solicitor. Perhaps he's from the government?]

Wildcard

[Have your own idea? Just post it, or pp me at

sarahthesilent so we can work something out!]

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[The touch of Sabriel's hand to his shoulder is as unexpected as the condolences she continues to offer, but Seymour does nothing to shake her off. Instead, he places his much larger hand atop hers as a silent show of gratitude, his skin ripe with warmth provided by his borrowed life.]

I thank you, but your apology is unnecessary. It will not do to forget the past...

[Sabriel pauses, her fingers curling.]

We never can. All we can do is face it, and learn from it.

Yes. [He lifts his hand, abandoning hers on his shoulder so that he might brush her dark hair back from her face, his curiosity in her concern for him more than apparent.] I had hoped to do just that, to help bring justice to those who had turned their backs on Yevon, who wounded the hearts of the Spirans who looked to them for hope and for guidance. Perhaps one day...

[A sigh and, dropping his hand back to his side, Seymour shakes his head.]

...though it matters very little here, in a world so far removed from those happenings, I suppose.

[Sabriel doesn't recoil from the gesture, as she'd do normally. Instead, she just sighs.]

What we hope to do in our own worlds is... not possible, as long as we're here. But there are other battles to be fought, and many of the problems here are within our power to mend. I don't intend to just sit around and wait to be sent back home.

A bold promise.

[But nothing about Seymour's tone sounds mocking. Instead, he sounds vaguely pleased by Sabriel's conviction.]

I feel similarly. There is much I wish to accomplish here, none of which can be done by wallowing in the past. This country...no, this world cannot know peace if we merely sit back and pray for it to come. We must take action.

[A pause and then...]

Perhaps that is what you were doing out here all alone? Practicing for what comes next?

Partially, yes. But I've been studying magic since I was very young. [Sabriel pauses, considering her next words. She seems fairly impressed by Seymour's though.]

For me, it's... relaxing. And a reminder that all things are tied together. So yes, it is practice, but it also helps me think. To consider what it is I want to do next.

[Now that is something Seymour has never found magic to be: relaxing. Much like everything else in his life, even though he had a talent for it, the use of magic meant needing to be better than those around him who could also wield it, in particular the summoners.

It was necessary...even after his death...to know who was strong and who was weak, for the more he absorbed the former, the stronger he too became, and the stronger he would one day be as Sin.

Yet, even so, he recognizes what Sabriel means by feeling the connection between all things through her magic. He feels it, too...in a way.]

I began learning at a very young age, myself. More than just healing. I do not find peace of mind in its practice, however...but it does help me thing. Sometimes.

I see. Perhaps it's because our worlds, and magic work in different ways. [Or perhaps he doesn't have the fond memories associated with Charter magic that Sabriel does, she wonders. To Sabriel, practicing Charter magic in for leisure, rather than need, always brought her mind back to her school days, where she and her friends would practice magic in sunlit safety.]

But what does give you peace of mind?

[In order to answer Sabriel's question, Seymour must first consider what peace of mind means to him. Not having ever experienced it before, it's difficult to say for certain what would bring the Calm within him.

Perhaps that is one reason among many he seeks to end Spira's suffering? For the only true peace that world will ever know is the end of all things...]

My answer ought to be the teachings of Yevon, but...

[He shakes his head, a faraway look in his eyes.]

...I am afraid there isn't anything, Lady Sabriel.

[There is nothing that will quiet his inner storm. Nothing, at least, that he is aware of. Not even her, High Summoner Braska's daughter: Yuna.]

Maester... [Sabriel's hand, still resting on his shoulder, uncurls before she she lets herself squeeze his shoulder. Even under the perfume's influence, she can't quite bring herself to hug him. but she looks up to meet his eyes- hers are a brown so dark that they're almost black, pained and sympathetic.]

I'm sorry. Is there truly nothing that brings you ease? [Normally, Sabriel would be more cautious, more suspicious, especially when speaking to one of the Dead. Instead, the gentler parts of her nature have come to the surface, and she thinks no wonder he wasn't able to pass on.]

[Vengeance is all that can bring him peace of mind, but even with his head clouded by the effects of the perfume from the Swear-In, he knows better than to admit as much. How differently Sabriel would look at him then, how hostile the grip on her shoulder might become.

Not that either of those things would be so terrible. If nothing else, he would cherish such passion being directed his way. But it's much too early, much too soon. She hasn't had any time to blossom, to become someone whose ardent fury he might be able to use...]

Perhaps there is one thing.

[He offers her a reassuring smile, strong despite the obvious discontent that weighs upon his soul.]

Nothing else in all the world brings me such peace as being able to relieve others of their suffering and their sorrows.

[That's one hell of a twisted truth.]

[His words make Sabriel smile- not a particularly wide smile, but a gentle one that touches ever part of her face. When she speaks, her tone is contemplative.] 'Through helping others, we help ourselves' or something along those lines?

[Sabriel's estimation of Seymour has risen slightly. She pauses, considering her words.] I have sometimes found peace through that as well. As Abhorsen, that often means fighting off whatever monster is threatening people, but here, sometimes- I can walk a different path, and help people through less violent means.

[A smile and a nod are all the confirmation Seymour offers Sabriel before, with a soft pat of her hand, he moves away. The bulk of his robes dust the forest floor behind him, doing little to mask the sound of his footsteps, but seeming to erase any sign of their physical existence.]

The people of this world are blessed by your presence, Lady Sabriel. Violence...that is the easy answer. It takes someone of great fortitude and imagining to find another way.

[He laughs then, a fleeting and soft sound nearly lost in the rustle of the branches overhead.]

I pray that many are drawn to your light the way I am.

You flatter me. [And she actually is blushing a bit as she turns away, scarlet suffusing her death-pale face as Sabriel looks up at what she can see of the sky through the trees.]

I do what I can, but what's necessary isn't something any one person can do alone. It will take many people- both natives and imPorts- to set this world right.

I only speak the truth.

[Which is in itself true, more or less. Even if, like all the truths he tells, they are twisted somehow.]

But you are right about one thing. In order to make a difference, the people—imPorts and natives alike—must learn to work together. Accomplishing this, however, will be no easy feat, particularly when both sides are also divided among themselves.

And far more imPorts wish to be leaders or be independent than work as part of a greater whole. Trying to organize us is like herding cats, save when some overwhelming threat presents itself.

[Sabriel shrugs.]

Still, it's better to do something, rather than nothing.

Edited 2017-02-19 03:34 (UTC)

Ahh...do you disapprove of imPort leaders, then?

[This topic has captured his interest all over again and he turns to regard Sabriel with a gaze most penetrating.]

I have witnessed like-minded peoples without a leader stumble and fall before the threats that rise up against them. One voice that speaks for many is much clearer than the dissension of many raised together and shouting all at once.

It may be difficult to lead...but it is necessary. And a good leader, Lady Sabriel, is not independent of those who follow him.

Goodness no, or I wouldn't be working for Armstrong. I think that there are some effective leaders among us, but most imPorts aren't interested in organizing or following- either because they don't share goals with other imPorts, or because they're content with the current state of affairs.

And a leader without followers is just someone giving speeches to an empty room.

Armstrong?

[Ah, yes, the woman responsible for RISE, a group so very much like the Crusaders. Perhaps just as unnecessary, too. And doomed to meet a similar fate? He can only speculate.]

I see. But why is it you follow her and do not lead yourself?

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So life goes on

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