PARADISA

[ Ashura was out and about, enjoying their new and fair city. The language was unfamiliar and yet he could appreciate it too, it bearing a small resemblance to his own (it did not help him read it at all though). And life here had become much easier now that Percy had explained these 'credit cards'. They were some type of magic he was sure, though he had been told otherwise. Either way, it had helped him solve multiple problems, including that of his clothing. He had managed to purchase several lovely yukata, wearing one today with a wave and fish pattern on it. ( Pants were never okay with him, he did not care what the Castle tried to force on him on a regularly basis). 

He was out exploring Tokyo today, and on the side, trying to find out where some of the ones that had gone quiet had gone. It was worrisome, but at the same time he did not think he could do much, not really. If the Castle wanted them, it would have them, and that knowledge made him rage inside. But it wouldn't do any good. Did it ever?

So today he is walking about the city, stopping at shops or little snack places to sample local cuisine (so you can probably seem him likely with food in his hand or in his mouth at any given point), journal in hand, noting things now and then and sometimes talking - ]

I am actually rather surprised by this place. I have seen many articles of clothing that are reminiscent of my own culture, in small, small ways. But still, it is interesting.

I wonder if this means, somehow, that other worlds potentially draw on or influence others? Or is that merely ridiculous thinking? Anyone have any thoughts?

( James Bond )

[ That done, Ashura rose, checking momentarily on Felix before gathering the books stacked on the living chamber's table and gliding out of the room. His own wounds had been superficial, at best, and he opted to wrap bandages around his arms and paste his cheek rather than waste the resources of their magical healers. Food and rest had done the rest for him, though Felix would be awhile yet in recovering, he thought.

Which mean, of course, a lot of down time, and since Ashura had no real concept of TV or other electronic entertainment, that meant books. And lots of them.

So he could be found in the library, dressed in robes of blue and gold, his ears adorned with only a single ball of gold a piece, hair kept in a simple braid as he carried a small basket (yes, basket) of books, fingering the jacket of a rather thick tomb in his hand, seeming to focus on urban fantasy novels or true-crime novels based in modern earth worlds.

He honestly wouldn't mind be interrupted though - or given book suggestions. ]

[ It was another of the Castle Before the Moon's tricks. He knew it. There were no rocks and no night sky, but he knew this was one of its tricks. How could it not be? He was far from home, alone against the enemies, suffering because that was what it wanted. That was what it had always wanted, wasn't it? It fed off their blood and their screams, it had for years, its magic fueled by their forced sacrifices. Oh, he knew, he was on to its little game and he was going to end it, but a stop to this pathetic and cruel game. 

But he had to make it there first, to the heart. 

And there were obstacles in the way. 

Enemy soldiers, with their dark eyes and their dark hair, out to kill him because he was the demon of their nightmares, the man who had burned their comrades alive, slaughtered them with sweeps of his sword. Oh, yes, his sword, where was that? He should have that if he planned to cut them down, to end it, give them the peace they all so deserved. He could not find his, so he picked up a piece of detritus, something that would work - long, sharp, deadly. It bit at his own palm, but he didn't care, because he had something more to do. He could burn the wound closed when this was all done. 

He made his way through the halls, and when soldiers appeared he smiled benignly and lunged to attack, to push them out of the way or cut them down. Either they got out of his way or he made them get out of his way. His was a mission of most import, and he would be damned if he let these fools stand in his way!

Eventually, his voice comes over the journals, a little dreamy perhaps, thick with the rasp of battle, manic with delusion.]

Stop fighting me, fools, and be get out of my way. Do you really think you can stop me? You can't, the only one who could is gone! You all couldn't save him, now I'm your only hope. So get out of my way, and live to see another day...

[ It was almost sing-song, cooing, urging a child to sleep while the adult took care of the cruelties of the world...]

[ooc: Ashura is making his way to the spinning thingy you all dread so much. Inside of this post will be two more sections for more specific encounters if anyone wants to go through this - one with his parents, either mother or father, and one for Yasha (his former lover). He will try to kill you in either of those threads. ]

[ The saying was that 'April showers bring May flowers', but for Ashura that was taking a bit to long. So, he thought he might help it along a little. And he had promised Galadriel that he would show her flowers from his world, plants. Well, why not get a start on it before his promise entirely slipped his mind? And better to get a jump on decorating the rooms before Felix could rightly protest. 

So, dressed in a robe of green, gold, and pink, the patterns that of swirling blossoms and growing trees, Ashura made his way through the lobby of the Castle with a large basket balanced on his hip, bright flowers poking their heads out over the rim and leaving not a few petals behind in his wake - a trail of petals rather than gingerbread crumbs. A portion would go into his chambers, and another portion would go out into the gardens. Certainly it was kept up by some unseen force, but it was nice, taking a small plot for himself to nurture, a left over from his mother, a way to honor her. 

After stopping in his rooms to deposit the flowers he planned to arrange there, he gathered the basket and headed outside to the gardens, finding a clear space to claim. He settled, wishing up the tools of a gardener, arranging the earth with bright flowers the glittered like flame - white, yellow, orange, red, humming to himself as he went about his work, enjoying the chance to not freeze and spend time in sunshine that warmed instead of giving brittle effort. ]

[ooc: catch him walking through the castle halls with his basket of flowers our outside gardening! ]

[ Ashura knew he could simply wish anything he wanted up into his rooms at the Castle, but there was a certain... delight in going to get them yourself, in taking that small bit of labor. It was an excuse to leave the stone walls and to bring Svitana out of the stables, an excuse to poke through the new things in the town. And maybe it was giving Felix a fair chance to possibly waylay him, not that Felix would really deter him from his usual attempt to turn their apartment into a forest of flowers and ferns in the warmer months.

And he would make the attempt. Never doubt it. He loved nature so very much, especially flowers with all their bright colors. 

He casually walked with his carnivorous beast through the town, ground tying him whenever he wished to go into a shop. The dragon-horse would stand, most people smart enough to avoid him as he waited for Ashura, the saddle-packs across his withers steadily filling, flowers poking out in places and taking away some of the natural 'danger' that exuded from him. It was anyone's guess if Svitana was actually bothered by this. Ashura thought it suited his mount, rewarding him with bits of jerky now and then for his continued patience.

What, it was perfectly normal to ride something like Svitana through his own town, and he had been here three years already (almost). So he was perfectly comfortable leaving him there as he wandered through town, picking up more and more things for the warming weather - flowers, some bird seed in a small packet, treats for Sybil and Agni, new ribbons for them even for their spring/summer collars, new soaps for hair and body made from herbs and scents available once winter released its strangle hold. More than a few sweets were in hand by the end of it all, and Svitana looking more than a little peevish at playing pack mule.

Ah, well, it was all worth it for jerky, wasn't it? ]

[ooc: ashura is out and about the town today! He's shopping, and when he goes in, he leaves Svitana out (his dragon-horse). So, basically, have a giant scaly beast standing there, with stuff pocking out of saddle packs (that are not really secure). Catch Ashura as he flitters about, or poke the dragon-horse if you dare.]

 [ ( Broken Filter ) Private --- Because He Thinks Maybe the Castle Is Done With Breaking Them ]

I had another dream last night, the dream where the final piece of sand drops. 

I want to tell Felix of them, but I also do not wish to worry him further. I know such things would trouble him, and I put him through enough recently with my month long sleep and my time as a child. I would speak to Galadriel, but I feel she perhaps hears to much of my melancholy. So I suppose this is the best alternative, then, isn't it? I have read this is therapeutic. 

To be honest, I am not sure why I have the dreams. I used to, when I was first here, but they have ebbed. Perhaps it is because I grow near the day in which I was brought here? I suppose that might be a trigger, and I would lying if no little fear took my heart. I was once so strong in my convictions, in my absolute belief that the thing I planned, the bargain was... right. 

But now I question. Now I ask myself if it was not selflessness and courage but rather... weakness and selfishness. The dream comes and, sometimes, I find myself asking for the grain to remain frozen in the hourglass. And then I think of the years of bloodshed, of Yasha, and I beg for it to fall, to release me. My mind and heart are torn now, and I worry that my life is not a price worthy enough of what I ask, though the Witch has counseled that a life is far to much a price for any one thing. I worry that when I go back, the nature of my heart will have shifted.

I would say now perhaps there is another way, but I have moved events so that there is, indeed, none. And I shall have to live with that... and die by it. I suppose now that my wish, my heart's desire, has expanded to include that I can be forgiven for it too. 

I do not know who all might be concerned for it, but it seems Felix might be on a Castle induced sleeping spell, much like I was a few months ago. I thought it might have just been exhaustion from his spells, but... after two days, I do not think so. I cannot saw how long it shall last, but for the time being he is sleeping, so if you have been looking for him - well, there is your answer.

[Not wanting to admit how worried he was, even if it was only him sleeping, Ashura rose, grabbing his fur lined robe and went out to the snow dusted gardens. It was cold and brisk, but he needed that rather than the warm comfort of his rooms. He walked along the snowy paths, black hair and white robe trailing in an oddly austere way, breath misting in front of him.

This was his version of pacing, the royal version. 

Perhaps you even catch him as he comes to one of the benches. And in the interest of not being terribly cold, he summons fire to burn away the snow and evaporate the water to create a dry spot for himself to sit. From there, he proceeds to use his fire to carve out patterns in the snow, swirling and twirling in natural looking designs mixed with geometric. It was a concentration exercise, as well as a way to take his mind off things.]

( Filter Action to Galadriel (And/Or Celeborn If He Wants) )

( Felix )