KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
He winced at the implication to that, and nodded. "Well, from what I've seen, you neither have to take orders nor avoid asking questions now. Who's gonna stop you, if you can drop a dragon on their heads?" He sounded faintly amused - but something about that worried him too. Perhaps he could see why too much power would be a concern for gods. It certainly was for him, powerless as he was. Imagine then how an Accepted might feel about it?
The lithany of complaints actually made the teenager laugh again, some of his bad humor easing off again. His temperament was turbulent and unpredictable at the moment... but perhaps that was excusable, considering what had gone down earlier. "No offense, but I think I'll stay clear of Frey," he drawled, color still high on his own face. "I'd like to keep my emotions - and everything else - where they are."
Sliding down along the ice that blocked the entrance, Korbin sat down on his heels, arms resting loosely on the knees. Leaning his head back against the cold wall, he hummed thoughtfully. "Well... there are ways," he mused. "It's not like you're the only Outlanders to ever appear over the centuries. Or outsiders who have wound up staying. You could be adopted into one of the families here... you'd have to give up your names for that though, and find someone willing to take you in. Become mother and father, that whole deal." He scratched his chin, thinking.
"There's the old coming-of-age rituals... They fell out of practice a while back, because they're quite brutal. But they would prove that you're fit to survive in Halo, and the elders might be more prone to accept that than anything else. Or... yes, as you said. Let time and Halo itself take the measure of you, like with the rest of us. But that would require years worth of patience, and you don't really have that kind of time." Not with the current mood within the Citadel.
The lithany of complaints actually made the teenager laugh again, some of his bad humor easing off again. His temperament was turbulent and unpredictable at the moment... but perhaps that was excusable, considering what had gone down earlier. "No offense, but I think I'll stay clear of Frey," he drawled, color still high on his own face. "I'd like to keep my emotions - and everything else - where they are."
Sliding down along the ice that blocked the entrance, Korbin sat down on his heels, arms resting loosely on the knees. Leaning his head back against the cold wall, he hummed thoughtfully. "Well... there are ways," he mused. "It's not like you're the only Outlanders to ever appear over the centuries. Or outsiders who have wound up staying. You could be adopted into one of the families here... you'd have to give up your names for that though, and find someone willing to take you in. Become mother and father, that whole deal." He scratched his chin, thinking.
"There's the old coming-of-age rituals... They fell out of practice a while back, because they're quite brutal. But they would prove that you're fit to survive in Halo, and the elders might be more prone to accept that than anything else. Or... yes, as you said. Let time and Halo itself take the measure of you, like with the rest of us. But that would require years worth of patience, and you don't really have that kind of time." Not with the current mood within the Citadel.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
