a perfect sky
Neron Launceleyn
the Hailstorm
Barman at the VlamVloed

Age: 29 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#1
NERON
the hailstorm
One of the things Neron rarely gets to appreciate about the Tundra is the beauty of the night sky. Since Morgan’s ever-so-generous decision to keep the shrine in the Fangs, and to allow him to go alone, he has taken great pleasure in the walk there and back. The cold doesn’t bother him and the solitude is pleasant.

So, now that he’s replenished, he strolls the causeway back towards the Citadel, his hands tucked in his pockets and his eyes on the stars. It’s bright and clear, almost stunningly so, and a crescent moon hangs overhead. If Neron reaches up, he imagines he might be able to prick his finger on the edge of it.

Softly, he starts to hum under his breath; an old, old tune, back from Northaven. Probably played at one of those insufferable weddings he attended with Edrei. He misses her, having never had the chance to reunite before she was eaten by a land shark. Shame, really.
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!


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#2
whispers

   noise made slightly coherent.

            do you           hear        it?

                                                   (over here)

           no!
                           here!

         h    ur              r                                            y
                   or                        it'll           be                                              too

                                                                                                                         late!





Neron Launceleyn
the Hailstorm
Barman at the VlamVloed

Age: 29 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 19 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Honey Offline
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Posts: 1,134 | Total: 16,313
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#3
NERON
the hailstorm
With his senses sharper than those who have not Ascended, it does not take much for Neron to recognise something off in the otherwise silent world around him. The crunch of snow beneath his feet is normal, of course, as is the odd breath of wind. But this...? This is new. Different. Unfamiliar. Stopping to turn in a slow circle - and it feels like the noise follows him - the Hailstorm’s steel blue eyes narrow.

”Hello?” he calls quietly, taking a few steps in the direction that he thinks it might be coming from, only to change his mind, brow furrowing to try and make sense of it. ”I wasn’t aware that the Tundra played these sorts of tricks.” Part of him is worried. The last time something like this happened, the Eirachi was behind it.
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#4
          trick?

        o                  r
                                                                          t
                                            r
                                                e
                                                       
                                              A
                                                      t
              ?
                                                        h    ur    r                      y. over
                                                              here


beneath the ice. fr          o    z    en.

dig, neron.

  c        l      a      w
Neron Launceleyn
the Hailstorm
Barman at the VlamVloed

Age: 29 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 19 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#5
NERON
the hailstorm
Trick or treat?

Trick?

Or treat?

Neron is staring at the ground as the compulsion overcomes him to dig at the frozen crust of the earth, the Hailstorm quite a sight as he stands like a black smudge against the snow. ”Well, if you say so,” he mutters. Long gone is the man who would immediately buck against the weirdness and wonder that Caido throws at him.

If there’s something telling him to crack open the ice and get at what’s underneath? Well, that’s what he’ll do. Magic wells in his fingertips, and he uses it to pry away hard packed snow with his water manipulation, digging down, down, down. What’s waiting for him? Gods only know.
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#6
The digging will be hard going. This is ice after all, and Neron seems to have forgotten his icepick at home. Fluid sighs from his fingers, but eventually after much scraping and digging and kicking at the ice, a shape emerges.

      t                        i


                                                          c

                                                                          k

It looks almost like a

            t     
                                          o
    c
                                                                                                  k

pocket w      a    t        ch? Reaching down and brushing away lingering splinters of ice, should Neron push the button to release the mechanism (and of course he will), he'll find instead of a f     a                  c    e, there is merely a dull sort of screen.
Neron Launceleyn
the Hailstorm
Barman at the VlamVloed

Age: 29 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 19 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Honey Offline
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Posts: 1,134 | Total: 16,313
MP: 0
#7
NERON
the hailstorm
He’s notoriously lazy, and yet at this task Neron is tenacious, diligent. It’s like whatever it is that’s calling to him has crawled inside his head, scratching at the inside of his skull, and he’s a slave to answer it now. The ice has soaked through the knees of his pants and he’s resorted to digging with his hands by the time he finds the object, shirt cuffs coated in frost, knuckles crazed and oozing fluid.

”Oho,” he says softly, under his breath, drawing out the chain and lifting the pocket watch to the light where it spins softly. Clicking the mechanism to open it, he’s thoroughly disappointed not to see a clock face inside. ”I see,” he says softly. But of course he doesn’t.

One day he might, though. Carefully tucking the trinket away, Neron rises back to his feet and continues to trek for home. The Tundra is silent again, and he’s long since stopped learning to question it.

~FIN
Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!


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