Ryanti had lied before. He had told fabrications in his line of work. It was no matter of question that his job often blurred one’s morals and ethics. There was no doubt that he had done things to people, things that would keep a man up at night in order to complete his mission. At least in this line of work. There were indeed words that came out of his mouth during the most critical of times that saved his ass while condemning another. But despite this, Ryanti held onto his values. Despite the additional pain and lack of sleep this gave him, Ryanti did not budge. He could still very well be an honest man to his allies. He could still tell the truth more often than falsehood. He could still be sincere. His heart could still be pure.
He did not want to change because of his job. He wanted the world to change because of his job. For the better.
The aspiring young man listened intently to her words. There was a large part of him that could believe that Nyemia never spoke. He had become so frustrated with her silence, though he blamed it on his lack of understanding. He had always hoped that her silence was just because Nyemia was watching out for him. That he was not ready to know or understand his fate. That she was holding back because she loved him. She was the only god he ever had faith in. The only one he could depend upon. He invested much of his sentimentality in his fate, believing that he was put on this planet for a very good reason and that he would die satisfied with what he accomplished while he was alive.
Ryanti glanced over with tired eyes as Sounsyy shook her head at her situation, and explained to him the reasoning behind what had happened to her. Even though his eyes were tired, they held onto a warm sparkle that reminded anyone bold enough to stare directly at them that they were indeed full of life. Trusting too easily… carelessness. What unfortunate realities of this world! It made Ryanti think about how hard it was to show others his sincerity. He still believed in such things as trust. That any wound, no matter how deep, could still heal.
When Sounsyy tried to smile, Ryanti smiled wide enough to show his teeth. His canines were unusually dull for anyone believing him to be a pureblood. He had picked up on the curl of her lips, and it made him feel better. Even in the dampened shade of the quiet moonlight, he could see that curl. It was because he was looking for it. For any trace or clue that she could still smile, or at least try to. Ryanti was an empathetic man; he could almost feel the sensation of Sounsyy’s gears grinding and grinding away. The machine starved of oil and never able to shut down for maintenance or refurbishment. Grinding and grinding away until the cogs and the gears wore out so significantly that they had might as well collapse onto the pool of its own blood, sweat, and tears.
He was going to say something, wanted to reach out to her somehow… but then he found himself blocked from her by the Sea Wolf that had been guarding the door. He stroked a bit of his locks away from one of his ears, a little embarrassed that he had been leaning so much on the door, slowly shifting to stand on his own two feet again.
Though he did get a word in, as she told him those words that made a wave of reassurance course through his stomach.
As she disappeared into the hallway beyond, Ryanti said “Thank you for telling me.â€
His words faded away as he observed her form fading equally so. His thoughts lingered on her for a moment longer, and Ryanti had to swallow in order to parch his dry throat. It had grown very quiet around him, and he felt like the eyes of the fellow Sea Wolf were beaming down on him at that very moment. Though, because she was the only one around him still awake, Ryanti felt compelled to say one last thing.
“Sometimes wounds cannot be healed by time alone.†He mentioned quietly to her, rubbing the back of his neck once or twice with a hand of his, letting out a bit of a sigh right after. “I wish that I could do something.â€
He decided to say no more, not wanting to become a verbal burden to someone that probably did not desire such a thing in the current moment of peace and quiet she was having before all of this occurred. “Good night.†Was all else he said, and he paced himself into the room he was given, hearing the door close behind him softly after he had made his way in.
It was so quiet. The silence was deafening. Ryanti could hear each individual breath from his body exhale and inhale in an uneven pace befitting someone under a spell of heavy thought. His aquamarine gaze bounced off of the rays of the tender moonlight shining through the only small window that provided them light. He walked with the grace of his mother’s blood and the discipline of his training, the result allowing him to be completely silent in a room full of his sleeping compatriots.
He placed a hand upon the bottom of the windowsill, his eyes meeting the wondrous moon. For century upon century, his family had all turned themselves in for the night underneath the same heavenly body. Looking up on his own, it was as if he could connect to all of his ancestors that ever looked up to the night sky.
It was amazing how he was able to end up here in the first place. Born into privilege, he had made the decision to put his life and well-being into danger, for the sake of following his passion, following his dream.
As he experienced that connection to the past, he closed his eyes to the moon, and thought of the distant future. He thought of how people like him, in the far away future, would glance at the moon. Would they view it from a place like this? Inside of a naval vessel sailing the open seas? Would they view it from an inn? From the grassy meadow of a Gridanian riverbank? Or would they view it from an enormous construct of untold height and beauty? And would they be able to do that because of what their ancestors contributed to the world? Because of what Ryanti did?
He took three silent steps back, eyeing each of his sleeping compatriots on the floor of the room. The silver moonlight shined down upon them. They slept in different positions. They each wore different amounts of clothing to sleep. They had their blankets wrapped around in different ways. But they were all breathing in the same peaceful rhythm of slumber.
It was quiet. Peaceful. Yet Ryanti’s mind was so alive. He had thought of the past. He had thought of the future. Now, as he solemnly began to strip himself of his Sharlayan-issued Black Label uniform, he began to think of the present.
After a few quiet snaps and some unbuttoned buttons, the uniform slid off of his body like a veil curtain. He hadn’t a scar on him. His skin was radiant and well-received by the light of the moon. He had been lucky, only sustaining wounds that could heal completely so far in his career. At least on the outside. Where his outside body showed no signs of wear or tear, it was the element of transition that Ryanti was suffering from. A transition from a body drowned in the consequences of handling objects with ancient connections to the world that yet still lingered into the present, to a normal body once more.
It was then that he touched his left cheek softly with the tip of his fingers, sliding them down onto the flowing shape of his neck and to his clavicle, remembering a time when it tingled and ached, and when the veins inhabiting that area became saturated with blue, and when he remembered those memories that wasn’t his own.
But there were no foreign memories tonight. He had achieved balance once more, and as he became nude to the moon’s gaze and gently pressed himself against the opposite wall of the room, the only memories that he explored were his. Memories of the crew he had just met, feelings of what lied in the not so distant future, anxiety of his mission, an overload of emotion that made him more tired than ever, and of course, the Captain’s smile.
His butt gently graced the floor of his spot in the room, and he solemnly tilted his body upon its side. His head rested against the pillow provided for him and he curled underneath the blanket as if desiring to disappear from the reality around him. To enter his own private sanctuary. It was not too soon afterward that he drifted off to sleep.
--
He did not want to change because of his job. He wanted the world to change because of his job. For the better.
The aspiring young man listened intently to her words. There was a large part of him that could believe that Nyemia never spoke. He had become so frustrated with her silence, though he blamed it on his lack of understanding. He had always hoped that her silence was just because Nyemia was watching out for him. That he was not ready to know or understand his fate. That she was holding back because she loved him. She was the only god he ever had faith in. The only one he could depend upon. He invested much of his sentimentality in his fate, believing that he was put on this planet for a very good reason and that he would die satisfied with what he accomplished while he was alive.
Ryanti glanced over with tired eyes as Sounsyy shook her head at her situation, and explained to him the reasoning behind what had happened to her. Even though his eyes were tired, they held onto a warm sparkle that reminded anyone bold enough to stare directly at them that they were indeed full of life. Trusting too easily… carelessness. What unfortunate realities of this world! It made Ryanti think about how hard it was to show others his sincerity. He still believed in such things as trust. That any wound, no matter how deep, could still heal.
When Sounsyy tried to smile, Ryanti smiled wide enough to show his teeth. His canines were unusually dull for anyone believing him to be a pureblood. He had picked up on the curl of her lips, and it made him feel better. Even in the dampened shade of the quiet moonlight, he could see that curl. It was because he was looking for it. For any trace or clue that she could still smile, or at least try to. Ryanti was an empathetic man; he could almost feel the sensation of Sounsyy’s gears grinding and grinding away. The machine starved of oil and never able to shut down for maintenance or refurbishment. Grinding and grinding away until the cogs and the gears wore out so significantly that they had might as well collapse onto the pool of its own blood, sweat, and tears.
He was going to say something, wanted to reach out to her somehow… but then he found himself blocked from her by the Sea Wolf that had been guarding the door. He stroked a bit of his locks away from one of his ears, a little embarrassed that he had been leaning so much on the door, slowly shifting to stand on his own two feet again.
Though he did get a word in, as she told him those words that made a wave of reassurance course through his stomach.
As she disappeared into the hallway beyond, Ryanti said “Thank you for telling me.â€
His words faded away as he observed her form fading equally so. His thoughts lingered on her for a moment longer, and Ryanti had to swallow in order to parch his dry throat. It had grown very quiet around him, and he felt like the eyes of the fellow Sea Wolf were beaming down on him at that very moment. Though, because she was the only one around him still awake, Ryanti felt compelled to say one last thing.
“Sometimes wounds cannot be healed by time alone.†He mentioned quietly to her, rubbing the back of his neck once or twice with a hand of his, letting out a bit of a sigh right after. “I wish that I could do something.â€
He decided to say no more, not wanting to become a verbal burden to someone that probably did not desire such a thing in the current moment of peace and quiet she was having before all of this occurred. “Good night.†Was all else he said, and he paced himself into the room he was given, hearing the door close behind him softly after he had made his way in.
It was so quiet. The silence was deafening. Ryanti could hear each individual breath from his body exhale and inhale in an uneven pace befitting someone under a spell of heavy thought. His aquamarine gaze bounced off of the rays of the tender moonlight shining through the only small window that provided them light. He walked with the grace of his mother’s blood and the discipline of his training, the result allowing him to be completely silent in a room full of his sleeping compatriots.
He placed a hand upon the bottom of the windowsill, his eyes meeting the wondrous moon. For century upon century, his family had all turned themselves in for the night underneath the same heavenly body. Looking up on his own, it was as if he could connect to all of his ancestors that ever looked up to the night sky.
It was amazing how he was able to end up here in the first place. Born into privilege, he had made the decision to put his life and well-being into danger, for the sake of following his passion, following his dream.
As he experienced that connection to the past, he closed his eyes to the moon, and thought of the distant future. He thought of how people like him, in the far away future, would glance at the moon. Would they view it from a place like this? Inside of a naval vessel sailing the open seas? Would they view it from an inn? From the grassy meadow of a Gridanian riverbank? Or would they view it from an enormous construct of untold height and beauty? And would they be able to do that because of what their ancestors contributed to the world? Because of what Ryanti did?
He took three silent steps back, eyeing each of his sleeping compatriots on the floor of the room. The silver moonlight shined down upon them. They slept in different positions. They each wore different amounts of clothing to sleep. They had their blankets wrapped around in different ways. But they were all breathing in the same peaceful rhythm of slumber.
It was quiet. Peaceful. Yet Ryanti’s mind was so alive. He had thought of the past. He had thought of the future. Now, as he solemnly began to strip himself of his Sharlayan-issued Black Label uniform, he began to think of the present.
After a few quiet snaps and some unbuttoned buttons, the uniform slid off of his body like a veil curtain. He hadn’t a scar on him. His skin was radiant and well-received by the light of the moon. He had been lucky, only sustaining wounds that could heal completely so far in his career. At least on the outside. Where his outside body showed no signs of wear or tear, it was the element of transition that Ryanti was suffering from. A transition from a body drowned in the consequences of handling objects with ancient connections to the world that yet still lingered into the present, to a normal body once more.
It was then that he touched his left cheek softly with the tip of his fingers, sliding them down onto the flowing shape of his neck and to his clavicle, remembering a time when it tingled and ached, and when the veins inhabiting that area became saturated with blue, and when he remembered those memories that wasn’t his own.
But there were no foreign memories tonight. He had achieved balance once more, and as he became nude to the moon’s gaze and gently pressed himself against the opposite wall of the room, the only memories that he explored were his. Memories of the crew he had just met, feelings of what lied in the not so distant future, anxiety of his mission, an overload of emotion that made him more tired than ever, and of course, the Captain’s smile.
His butt gently graced the floor of his spot in the room, and he solemnly tilted his body upon its side. His head rested against the pillow provided for him and he curled underneath the blanket as if desiring to disappear from the reality around him. To enter his own private sanctuary. It was not too soon afterward that he drifted off to sleep.
--
*End of Day 1*