Rupert Giles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
consultmybooks) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eswareinmal2012-09-16 01:37 pm
consultmybooks) wrote in eswareinmal2012-09-16 01:37 pm
Entry tags:
[Orb]/[Action] - 20th of Rebirth's Decline
[It's on the home from the market that it happens.
Giles is not unfamiliar with prophecy. Memorizing and interpreting them had been one of his most important tasks as a Watcher more or less right up until the moments surrounding his death.
For all his latent and untrained magic power, it's not a gift he's ever been "blessed" with.
Until Schwanheim, that is.
And so now Giles can safely say that visions are, quite simply, awful. It's like being a radio when someone suddenly switches the dial to a station that's not in range, so that everything is static and nothing makes sense and he, Giles, is blind and deaf and helpless, surrounded by a swirl of colors and impressions and sounds he can't quite recognize, until it passes and he can push himself up off the ground.
The Sage stares blankly up at the orb, wondering what he'd even been intending to say before all of that had seized him. Details of the vision are still floating hazily through his head, like a particularly persistent, yet nonscensical dream. It takes him several seconds to realize that anyone might even be looking back at him but, when it does, he visibly tries to regain his composure, struggling back to his feet and pick himself up from the street.]
Well, then. That was, um...a bit alarming.
[Still obviously a bit dizzied, Giles realizes that his glasses are askew, and takes a few seconds to fuss with them and gather his thoughts about him.
What had he even been planning to say, before that happened?
Oh. Yes.]
About the, um...the recent rash of thefts...I, I just wanted to say that, um, that that should be over with. If you've lost anything of particular value, um, it should be returned to you in a day or so. But if you'd like to tell us, what you lost, we'll...well, um, we'll get it back to you, as soon as w can.
Th-Thank you.
And, um, on that note...I, I'm going to be at the library, today. [Anxiously, Giles glances up towards the castle.] Most of today. It seems I suddenly find myself in need of a map...
Giles is not unfamiliar with prophecy. Memorizing and interpreting them had been one of his most important tasks as a Watcher more or less right up until the moments surrounding his death.
For all his latent and untrained magic power, it's not a gift he's ever been "blessed" with.
Until Schwanheim, that is.
And so now Giles can safely say that visions are, quite simply, awful. It's like being a radio when someone suddenly switches the dial to a station that's not in range, so that everything is static and nothing makes sense and he, Giles, is blind and deaf and helpless, surrounded by a swirl of colors and impressions and sounds he can't quite recognize, until it passes and he can push himself up off the ground.
The Sage stares blankly up at the orb, wondering what he'd even been intending to say before all of that had seized him. Details of the vision are still floating hazily through his head, like a particularly persistent, yet nonscensical dream. It takes him several seconds to realize that anyone might even be looking back at him but, when it does, he visibly tries to regain his composure, struggling back to his feet and pick himself up from the street.]
Well, then. That was, um...a bit alarming.
[Still obviously a bit dizzied, Giles realizes that his glasses are askew, and takes a few seconds to fuss with them and gather his thoughts about him.
What had he even been planning to say, before that happened?
Oh. Yes.]
About the, um...the recent rash of thefts...I, I just wanted to say that, um, that that should be over with. If you've lost anything of particular value, um, it should be returned to you in a day or so. But if you'd like to tell us, what you lost, we'll...well, um, we'll get it back to you, as soon as w can.
Th-Thank you.
And, um, on that note...I, I'm going to be at the library, today. [Anxiously, Giles glances up towards the castle.] Most of today. It seems I suddenly find myself in need of a map...
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[[He's also very curious and a touch concerned what that spell was but he's not sure if he should ask]]
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[No, the more the seconds go by, the more Giles is sure of this one thing.]
I...I need to know about any towers, that might be nearby. Beyond, um, whatever's on the castle that might qualify.
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[[he really does need to figure out how to get back up to the Giants and make that map properly...]]
Might be better to ask around?
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...needless to say, um, I'm less than hopeful.
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[...helpless shrug.]
Mostly, um, I'd prefer to avoid speaking with any of them, for now. I'll, um, I'll keep that in mind, though.
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[[Since he's pretty sure he's manged to find the safe sources of information. Trading favors for healing was the best idea he'd ever had, seriously.]]
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[Giles tries not to look too hopeful. Really, the chance to get some potentially useful information and stay out of the public eye for a bit almost seems like too much to hope for.]
That, um...that would be wonderful, Bakura. Thank you.
[After a beat:] I could, um, compensate you for your time, of course.
[Not much, but he could.]
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[It's a lesson he knew, once, but that was a world away. All the same, Giles looks just a bit touched.]
Well, um, in that vein, I would be happy if you'd let us pass along some cake, at least.
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If it wouldn't be a bother, I wouldn't mind that at all.
[[Still ultra polite about the whole thing, of course.]]