HARPER
It's a delightful irony that Seren is running atop rooftops today, when it is part of Harper's daily training regiment. Admittedly it's also a way to forget all that has changed. Coming to Caido, being told he would never reunite with his loved ones even in death, losing all sense of purpose with no job to be had and an entirely new set of enemies to consider. Being a vigilante had been much more dangerous in many ways; nearly every night had been devoted to some terror or another, magical or human, and his life had been on the line each evening he'd donned his suit. Now, his days were numbered by peace and boredom. He felt lost.
But this at least would always bring him back. Nimble and flexible beyond what most people could achieve, an indistinguishable mix between an acrobatic upbringing and darker, more unsavory tactics beaten into him. The people of Torchline have grown so used to his cavorting over awnings and dancing atop beams that they hardly glance his way these days, accustomed to his changing routes.
He is just building up a sweat (difficult, with his level of training) when he spots someone else flying over alleyways and running along rooftops. Harper lights up with delight, immediately changing his route to freerun across the stucco tops of buildings and domiciles alike, hoping to catch the fleet-footed stranger. Only the chase is but a mere moment, the figure going still and pensive atop a seemingly random perch. Though he has no gravity-magic to aid him, Harper swings up to the roof within moments, and is both concerned and delighted when he recognizes Seren's side-profile. "Seren? Are you okay?" Foregoing any nostalgic joy he'd felt at being joined on the rooftops and the loneliness he'd temporarily forgotten because of it, focusing only on the troubled line between her dark brows.
But this at least would always bring him back. Nimble and flexible beyond what most people could achieve, an indistinguishable mix between an acrobatic upbringing and darker, more unsavory tactics beaten into him. The people of Torchline have grown so used to his cavorting over awnings and dancing atop beams that they hardly glance his way these days, accustomed to his changing routes.
He is just building up a sweat (difficult, with his level of training) when he spots someone else flying over alleyways and running along rooftops. Harper lights up with delight, immediately changing his route to freerun across the stucco tops of buildings and domiciles alike, hoping to catch the fleet-footed stranger. Only the chase is but a mere moment, the figure going still and pensive atop a seemingly random perch. Though he has no gravity-magic to aid him, Harper swings up to the roof within moments, and is both concerned and delighted when he recognizes Seren's side-profile. "Seren? Are you okay?" Foregoing any nostalgic joy he'd felt at being joined on the rooftops and the loneliness he'd temporarily forgotten because of it, focusing only on the troubled line between her dark brows.
if brokenness is a form of art
I must be a poster child prodigy
I must be a poster child prodigy
