Ask Nothing Gold Can Stay

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal's eyes were looking at the other man just as he'd been before, lingering on the scarring. The markings left across his skin told stories that the young Jedi knew nothing of and sparked a sense of curiosity. Who was this strange, blind boat maker that he bore the after effects of lightning and flogging, and why did did he bear them at all?

He leaned back in his seating position against the side of the boat and chuckled again as the other man came to his conclusion all on his own. "I didn't mind it," Hannibal piped up with a tone of obvious amusement, noting the small shift through the Force that got the boat moving. Of course he hadn't been the one doing the rowing and wasn't going to complain about a willingly shirtless attractive person showing off.

"'Course I am. A muscular shirtless man invited me onto a boat he made and stripped down to go swimmin'. What am I supposed to do, not look?"

And look he did continue to do unless the other man expressed discomfort with the observation. "And he can sing, unlike myself. No wonder the village gals like ya."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc listened as the man spoke, inwardly entertained at the blunt nature he possessed. He was clearly open about staring at Emryc, and Emryc certainly didn’t mind being admired. Blind or not, the half Sephi’s narcissism didn’t go anywhere.

The boat continued to lazily coast through the lake, Emryc’s Force Sight tipping him off to any potential obstacles. He looked pensive as Hans mentioned the village gals. For a moment it appeared as if he had something profound to say as he quietly laid there and smoked.

“Don’t wanna stick my cock into drama,” Emryc declared with a vague shrug as a plume of thick smoke escaped his lips, unaware that he had left behind a cesspool of nothing but drama. It felt strange to be using the Force so openly, as he hadn’t done it beyond strict meditation for a long time. He pondered on the man being a Force user - clearly he was unfazed by the boat moving on its own. Was he sent by the Eternal? No, he had plenty of chances to kill Emryc by now. The half Sephi closed his eyes as the sun became quite hot, "Are you drama?" He asked with a slight tone of amusement. Emryc was entirely relaxed in the way he lounged, smoking from his e-cigarra and smelling the smoke from the other man.

“See anywhere interesting to go?” He asked lazily after a while, oblivious to all the sceneries they were passing.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal's brows rose a little in surprise at the boatman's straightforward commentary. It was really rather a lot like a blunt instrument wielded as it pleased. Such was its nature that it brought the young Jedi pause in consideration, completely silent as his eyes drew off to look across the landscape. He turned far enough to look down the river itself, back where they'd originally come from where the village would be.

He turned back to the muscular man, who was now moving the boat through force of will rather than strength of arm, when he followed up with a question. Hannibal's expression was amused and the grin of good humour was carried through on his voice, but he was also a somewhat puzzled tone.

"Don't think I am," he said, "Though I guess it depends on your point of view." Hannibal chuckled dryly. He didn't have much idea what the other man considered 'drama' but could guess it involved more than one person being interested. The Jedi inhaled and exhaled another cloud of smoke, then held the cigarra in his mouth while he tugged his pants back on. He slung a leg over the side of the boat with a thump and curled the other in. Even on a boat he couldn't quite sit straight.

"Yeah, h- ah hang on," he mumbled around the cigarra before placing it back between his fingers. "If ya turn right twenty degrees there's a buncha flowers around a big tree. Does that count?"

He paused for a couple seconds.

"Are you drama, Mr. Boatman?"

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc thought about his own point of view. So far he outright associated drama with women, though the last visit with Morgan...he pushed the thought aside. He remained silent for a moment, quietly smoking and lounging. As the man described a place, Emryc’s face remained devoid of expression.

“The kriff am I supposed to do with flowers?” He grumbled. The man was useless. Emryc shook his head as he took another long drag. He couldn’t imagine what he could do with a big tree and some flowers. That sounded like one of those ideal spots to sit and read. Emryc’s mind went back to his countless books and tomes that he would never gaze upon again. He wouldn’t even feel the pages again because it was all taken.

Emryc exhaled softly, thankful for the distraction when the man shot his question back at him. The half Sephi pondered on it for a while, blowing out a series of smoke rings as he did so.

“I’m very drama,” He declared finally, bringing a hand up to run through his hair as he tilted his head back, “Can’t you tell?”

Without looking, he began to edge to boat towards the direction the man had suggested.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

The boatman's grumpy question about the flowers was a little confusing to the young Jedi. It began a line of thought that was probably a little too deep for the subject matter but there it was all the same. The conclusion he came to with the little context he had was his attitude had something to do with him being blind.

Emerald eyes turned to look back to the spot he'd mentioned, smoking leaves his lips and ash tapped into his portable ash tray. Hannibal smirked over at him, that amused tone from a moment ago continuing on, although it seemed a little distracted.

"Haven't decided whether you are or not yet." Hannibal shifted in the boat a little, sitting more upright to get a better look at the collection of trees and flowers. "As for the flowers, well..."

He paused a moment, thumb tapping along the edge of the boat in pensive thought.

"Well. You smell them, don't you? Feel the petals on your fingers. Sit nearby and listen to the wind in the leaves and singing birds." Hannibal turned from the steadily approaching side of the lake to look at the very casually lounging boat maker. Not that the man could see it, but he was smiling a little. Maybe he could hear it in his voice. "Or that's what I'd do, at least."

Hannibal cleared his throat a little sheepishly at the end of all that.

"Plus there's some flowers I've never seen over there. I think."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was quiet as the man spoke, the boat steadily getting closer to the riverbank by where he directed. The half Sephi’s expression was blank as always, but it was always clear he was listening.

“I get allergies when I smell flowers,” Emryc said dryly, squashing the poetic scene the man painted. The boat gently nudged against the edge of land and Emryc rose up and out of it. He waited till the man disembarked before pulling the boat into the grass to prevent it from floating off.

“You almost sound like a romantic if not for the awful dialect,” Emryc grumbled as he let the man lead the way to his stupid field of flowers. The half Sephi could smell some of them already and he felt that familiar tingling in his nose before letting out a sneeze. Mercifully these weren’t as terrible as some of the ones closer to the village.

They arrived where Emryc could make out the outline of a large tree with Force Sight. He stood there vacantly looking in its direction, wiping his nose. Emryc walked towards the tree to sit near it, unceremoniously trampling on some flowers as he did so.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Oh. Allergies kind of made that the whole flower thing just a little awkward, didn't? Now that Hannibal really thought about it there was some sneezing earlier on the river that he hadn't put much real thought into.

"Well, uh... That's awkward, then," he commented sheepishly, tip-tapping along the edge of the boat once more. Hannibal stepped off the boat with him and helped how he could with getting the boat up onto shore properly before standing up and stretching his three limbs a bit. Bare feet took him toward the flowers and the tree, smirking a little at the boatman's commentary.

"Do I?" Hannibal answered breezily, looking around at the examples of nature around them. This was the kind of setting he was at peace in despite his general working areas being massive cities and things like that. "What, 'cause I like flowers? What's your idea of romance, Mr. Boatman?"

The young Jedi leaned down to more closely look at some of the flowers, careful to avoid trampling them overmuch, and observing the petal arrangements and textures. After a few seconds he looked up the see what the other man was up to.

There was a sound of grass softly shuffling as he stood again and walked over closer to the tree where there were now trampled flowers, crouching down in front of them. Very gently he lifted a snapped stalk from the ground in his palm, looking it over.

"Obviously not a bouquet kinda guy," he commented dryly.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc plopped down to sit by the tree, casually planting himself atop a few more flowers that were probably rare or something. Mercifully the allergies began to subside, though he still had to wipe his nose every now and then. The half Sephi tilted his head towards where the other man was.

“I don’t do romance,” He stated bluntly. He leaned his back against the tree, vacantly staring up towards the sky. Emryc didn’t consider himself to be a romantic in any sense of the word. He was wholly unaware of how he displayed any romantic gestures and so he considered himself incapable. That stuff only existed in Holomovies anyway.

Emryc scoffed slightly at the man’s dry quip about not being into bouquets, “Flowers die,” He said simply. Despite how neutral he felt about flowers, Emryc found the sounds around them oddly soothing. The wind brushed against the leaves above and the gentle rushing river resounded in the background.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal chuckled, finding his stance on romance more than a little amusing. It certainly fit the boatman's general attitude so far as he'd seen. Ironic then that the mere concept of a boat trip down a river in an idyllic countryside was romantic to the degree of being a popular part of classic Holomovies. And now they were in a flowering field, even.

"Said the man singing on a lake by the boat he made," he tacked on the end of the other man's sentence, moving a little to look at a different variety of semi-squashed plantlife. It was similar to some things he'd seen elsewhere but was almost certainly unique to this particular planet. Hannibal blinked and looked up Emryc after a moment.

"Didn't know I had the honour of meeting the famed Captain Obvious of the illustrious S.S. No Shit.'" His tone was sarcastic but more joking than biting, followed by more shuffling of grass as he sat himself on the ground amidst some flowers, partly within the shade of wide tree branches somewhere in front of the other man.

"Everything dies. Doesn't mean you can't enjoy it while it's there, does it?" Spring blew gentle, warm winds beneath his fingers, sinking into the soil and the first few flowers the boatmaker had walked across. Slowly from the roots they began to grow again, stalks knitting together and petals coming back into their full glory, reaching up from the soil toward where the sun would be.

Despite all the fighting he'd done and would doubtless do, what Hannibal liked best was things like this.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc had a slightly bemused expression on his face from the comment about singing in a lake. He didn’t quite understand the connection to their earlier topic of conversation because, of course, Emryc didn't understand romance. The half Sephi quirked an eyebrow as he tilted his head slightly towards the man, “In that case.... Is it working?” He asked casually.

The captain obvious joke didn’t faze Emryc at all as he very seriously asked, “Is the boat named S. S. No Shit?” He would have been surprised to have the little girl from the village write that, but he wouldn’t put it past some of the men. Jokes and quips seldom found purchase with the half Sephi, and this was a prime example of why. The other man would learn that lesson quickly.

He had nothing to say about the profound commentary around everything dying. Emryc turned and focused on where he sensed the Force being used. The light side pulsated close by and he could see through the plane of the Force new life weaving in through the plants. It was mesmerizing to watch, especially as he knew it was something he could never do.

His face was stoic and concentrated, and it was the first time his eyes gazed perfectly in a focused direction. It was the first time the man would get a glimpse of what it was like to truly have Emryc's infamously piercing gaze directed at something.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Emryc couldn't see the puzzled look Hannibal gave him. but there it was. Was he being romanced? That didn't sound right, given uh, everything. If he had been he hadn't noticed. Hannibal thought back to him being invited up onto the boat and little trip they had together, face scrunching up even more in confusion.

"Is it supposed to be?" he wondered aloud, "I mean, the boat's nice, especially with the view and all." The boat maker was a physically attractive man which was not an opinion Hannibal felt the need to be shy about, and the other man certainly wasn't shy about covering up or saying things out loud either.

Hannibal sighed a little as his sarcasm met a proverbial brick wall in this mysterious, muscular man. "Maybe it should be, but no. Writing says 'Boat'." He was seeing a theme here. The young Jedi had met people who either ignored or were annoyed by his general attitude at times, but this was really something else. "Which it is, I s'pose."

The plants under his care continued to grow, his attention drawn back to that task. Energy flowed patiently into and through the little life forms, guiding and helping them in the way he'd practiced since he was still a young Jedi. Eventually the hand dropped back to his thigh and smiled cheerfully at the little collection of flowers, even joined by new growths beside in places.

He turned to look at the other man and caught the penetrating silver eyes focused on the flowers, quiet for a little while more.

"'Could probably show you what they look like to me, if ya wanted."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was quiet as the man returned his question with another question. The half Sephi had little regard for when others played games, and he could tell right away the man was starting some sort of dance. A dance Emryc was far too….well, Emryc, to join in. He ignored the comment entirely, focusing back on the flowers. If the man wanted him, he would make that abundantly clear all on his own. Emryc wouldn’t fish for it.

The half Sephi plopped onto his back on the flower bed, closing his eyes. He could smell flowers a lot stronger now, and it was actually pleasant from what he could smell through the stuffy nose. Emryc was silent for a moment after the man spoke, and it would almost appear as if he fell asleep.

“And what would I do with looking at flowers?” He grumbled. He wanted to look at his Sith texts. He wanted to gaze at a Holoscreen and watch Huttball. He wanted to see golden eyes and a fanged smile. None of those were possible. What the kriff was he going to look at flowers for?

Emryc exhaled and plucked a flower. He twirled it between his fingers before allowing it to hover in the air and twirl. He could see its outline through the Force, watching the shapes spiraling and blurring.

“Show me what I look like to you,” He said after a while.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal blinked a couple times. This wasn't the first time the boatman hadn't answered a question and he highly doubted it'd be the last. He hadn't really figured out whatever was behind that particular quirk and rightly determined asking about it wasn't going to get him anywhere. Didn't take an empath to figure that part out.

The boatman laid down, closing his eyes, and Hannibal turned away to consider the tree that shaded them. He thought it was an old tree, off out here away from the forest proper and growing alongside the grass and flowers. High up in the branches a single blackbird was calling from a nest it'd made amidst the green leaves, singing all by its lonesome. The sound joined the wind through the branches, the small motions shifting beams of sunlight around the edges of the canopy's cover that fell through the gaps. It was peaceful enough even this man he'd just met may have fallen asleep.

Or perhaps not.

Hannibal shrugged a little at the boatmaker's grumpy dismissal of the flowers before realizing, duh, he can't see that. Blind.

"They're nice," he said lamely, though he was still watching the bird in the branches.

At least until a different request was made. Emerald eyes turned to look at him then, blinked several times, thought about it in the ensuing silence.

"Sure, I can do that," the young Jedi answered, slipping away from the more casual dialect. His seating position adjusted into a more meditative variety, careful of the flowers in front of him, and he fully faced the man lounging on the ground. Hannibal took a slow breath and raised his right hand toward where he lay. "Just relax."

It was a very gentle application of the Force, light and even-handed, easy to reject even by a novice. But there was still skill behind the gesture. Emerald eyes locked on the muscular and rugged figure before him and he began to weave and transmit an image of what he saw.

First, the flower in the air, idly spinning on invisible strings. Then roughened fingers somewhere beneath it with which it had been plucked from the earth, callused and marked by work and the occasional hammer. Down to the muscular arms and broad shoulders as the tree and other flora nearby formed as well, like strokes of painting made on blank, black canvas.

More of the strong stranger came into view, forming a lightning-scarred chest and a back in the grass, farther down to ribs and hip bones and the pants he wore. Last to be seen was his face, bearded and sun-kissed, angular cheekbones and strong jaw, and his long hair that splayed behind him. His facial features were more vague than some others, imperfect, but the eyes were starkly silver as they were meant to be.

There were other things there as well. Strange shifts in colour as different sounds came through the air and others with no obvious source. The vaguest inkling of movement at the edge where there was only empty air. But still, Hannibal showed the man what the Jedi saw, as asked.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc heard the call of the bird and he could see it in the plane of the Force. The singing floated over and for a moment it appeared to put the half Sephi at ease. After a while, he bristled and began to curl the Force. Pangs of pain went through Emryc suddenly, subtleties the man would notice strictly because he was an empath. The Force began to constrict the bird, intending to crush it and end its life right there and then.

Before he could continue, the man decided to honor his request. Emryc released the blackbird, the bird making odd chirping noises before it quietened down, deciding not to sing anytime soon again. Emryc almost scoffed at the man’s words telling him to relax. He had no idea the prepping the half Sephi had to do to allow anyone remotely close to his mind. He had to focus extensively to move aside the layers upon layers of barriers that made his thoughts into a fortress.

The man would find it was almost impossibly difficult to weave into Emryc’s mind even just to project images. He was only allowed in through the path the half Sephi specifically created for him. The path was narrow and tunneled, giving the man no chance to look anywhere beyond what he wanted to show. He would see nothing but walls all around him, not a single hint of thoughts, memories, emotions or anything at all.

Emryc, on the other hand, watched himself materialize into his thoughts. He recognized most of what he saw, though he was surprised at how bronze his skin was. There was visible surprise when he saw his own beard and hair, but he decided he didn’t quite mind the look. A hand reached up to brush against the beard. He noticed some details that didn’t quite make sense to him, but he knew this was a projection.

There was a grin on Emryc’s face as he noticed the very defined details of all his muscles, but also places where his face was not quite perfect. He slowly tilted his head towards the man, able to gaze at him quite pointedly while he was tethered through the Force. When he spoke, it was quite possibly the most he had felt like himself in a very long time.

“Think my eyes are dreamy, do you?”

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

There was a spike of pain from the other man, a sensation that far more easily drew his attention in out of the way places like this. His head turned instantly toward him and the bird the Force coiled around, and perhaps then it was purely luck that Hannibal's projection began and interrupted it. The young Jedi's brows furrowed slightly as he began but they relaxed once more after another moment.

Here there was a narrow tunnel, mirrored, plain, and narrow. Here where Emeralds were nearly luminescent as they looked around and saw very much nothing at all, Hannibal wondered briefly at the nature of this whatever it was, but decided not to press further on the matter. He was only here to deliver something anyway, nothing terribly complicated. That connection was formed of a bridge of simple threads between the two of them down that lengthy hall across which the image was transmitted, woven of spring and summer.

There was surprise on the boatman's face as he saw his own appearance, the reaction both amusing and gratifying in a way. The other man had yet to be very expressive and here he was taking in his own appearance for the first time in... Well, who knows? Hannibal just liked to help others where he could and he rather thought this was something nice to do for a person who couldn't see. Perhaps there was more he could do, if only for convenience?

As the boatman fixed him with that those intense silver eyes of his in defiance of his blindness the image he saw began to shift and expand. From where there was black, grass and flowers were painted in place out toward where Hannibal sat from his own perspective. Fingertips came into view that faced the man with the piercing eyes, then further down across hands marked by lightning inked in with gold. These joined and interwove with others, the vibrant and scarred tapestry up along his arm to the elbow becoming visible as Hannibal further filled in the projection.

Hannibal looked into those silver eyes, even if the other man might not be able to tell. The shift in his demeanor did not go unnoticed.

"More striking, I'd say, but also both beautiful and appealing." He was grinning again when he spoke.

"Could show you mine too, if you'd like. Keep it fair, and all."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc’s lazy grin remained as the man described his eyes, not shying away from the compliment. It was quite obvious that the half Sephi preferred directness over minced words. It was a credit to how perceptive the man was to pick up these nuances so quickly.

To his surprise, Emryc began to see fingertips, a hand, a wrist and painted skin that began to reveal an arm. He knew right away this was the man himself, Emryc’s Force Sight fixated on the vibrant colors and ink patterns on his skin. The man took back some of the control, deciding what he revealed. He heard his voice and could make out the amusement in it. Emryc could imagine a cocky grin, but his thoughts were always clouded with a certain smile. He focused on the lightning across the wrist, remnants of a warrior that stood against the Sith multiple times.

“Show me,” He stated almost as a command with his gaze still firmly fixed on the other man where he had briefly paused, "All of you."

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal's grin only widened in the face of the boatman's demand, having his little bit of fun through the process. For a moment the fingers of his right hand curled, as if testing out to see how they looked, and then slowly the image began to continue on.

"Well. I suppose I did say I would."

It was almost as if the wind itself was doing the painting now, each breath of the wild place around them filling in the void where Hannibal sat. Shades and hues blew up past the elbow, intricate and ornate designs coming into view. Many had scars made into parts of the design, flowers and spirits of protection and a collection of others. All had those gold-filled, fractal lichtenburg markings, cutting through them. These sprung from the black like twisting vines from the earth and pulled the rest along with it, coiling across skin and bringing with it every mark he bore and made his own.

The shoulder became visible, perspective beginning to shift and turn to be from more or less where the silver-eyed man sat. What was shown expanded down over and across Hannibal's chest, muscles formed from a life of training and fighting covering the young man. It moved to his left side where instead of an arm there was a socket for a cybernetic attachment, then shifted down along his abdomen, down his stomach, across his hips, and filled in his crossed legs in loose black pants.

Up from his shoulder was next, the lightning having even burned partway up his neck. The angular jaw and cheekbones, that cheeky and lopsided grin that curled his lips. Black hair originally styled back and to the side, now blown freely in the wind and sun.

There on his face, beneath strong eyebrows came into being with one raised slightly above the other with amusement, a pair of brilliant emerald eyes came into being. They were vividly vibrant and shined with some strange and distant light as they looked directly toward the other man.

There before the boatman sat Hannibal Grayza.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc watched the man materialize before him, the intricate painting on his skin weaving and spiraling as more of it was revealed. He saw what began as scars not unlike ones he carried, but they transformed into vines or stems that bloomed into flowers. It was so very much like the man’s intricate use of the Force in the plants Emryc had trampled. Vivid life was given to the image, and every little subtle way the man moved and shifted was clearly seen through the Force.

He saw the crossed legs and the shoulders, more patterns woven into the tapestry of his torso. Emryc took it all in, focusing especially on the lightning snaking across his chest and the missing limb. He was stoic about all of it until he saw the face and, finally, those vibrant eyes that matched his own in intensity.

Emryc’s fingers curled into the grass and dirt as his body tensed slightly. He knew those eyes. He knew that lopsided grin. His mind rushed back through a whirlwind of thoughts to Malastare. He had been on one of his earliest diplomatic missions. It had been the mission where he won the planet over and when he decided to become a politician.

The fortress in his mind prevented the man from learning any of this, though he visibly tensed in the physical world. The man was just as breathtakingly beautiful as he was back then. And just as Jedi.

Emryc’s gaze lowered towards the man’s neck, envisioning the Force choking around that neck till it bruised and till he heard a snap. Just like he had done to Talak Rand. His gaze lowered down to his chest and he thought of plunging a saber deep into it, and he imagined the brilliance fading from those stunning emerald eyes.

But then Emryc was pleased. Emryc was pleased this man sat across the monster that had killed his brethren. This man sat across the person that had brought Malastare to the fold. This man sat across the person that kill his friends and the students he no doubt knew at his temple. The person that led the attack that claimed his Grandmaster’s life.

The man didn’t realize any of this as he sat there with his windswept hair, his breezy grin, the glinting eyes and in all his perfectly flawed beauty. Emryc was poised as a statue the entire time, blank and undecipherable in both the Force and in the physical realm. There was something twisted and exhilarating about this, though it never manifested in him to be detected.

The half Sephi reached over and brushed his fingertips just barely along the lightning scars along the man’s wrist. He could only make out the faint outline of his own hand through the Force, but he committed the projection of the man’s image to memory. Emryc felt the roughness where the scar was just as he had felt his own, “Why do you hide them?” He asked quietly. To him even weaving them into something was hiding. It was forcing it to be something it was not.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Quite a lot went through the other man's mind and Hannibal couldn't catch really any of it. He only had his little hall of mirrors to look down where the thread connecting the two of them hung in the ether of the Force. Emerald did catch the tensing up, though not quite the curled fingers. He was concentrating, after all, on a great deal of moving detail.

Honestly Hannibal didn't even know why he'd come to this particular planet. More and more often he just followed where he felt he should go, following his intuition far more easily than he'd used to. As easy as breathing, just another leaf on the wind. Here he'd found a tall and mysterious boat-maker, but what did it mean or matter?

Not the kind of thinking the young Jedi put much effort into anymore.

Fingertips likes rough-spun feathers traced the gilded marks on his wrist and he looked down at it, considering the many designs across his arm alone. Hannibal's expression was clearly bemused, but also surprised, eyesbrows raised up. It was very rare that anyone actually asked why he did anything that he did, much less why he chose to weave his scars into tattoos.

"They're not hidden," he said a little firmly, brows coming back down. "Each is something important. A lesson best remembered." Hannibal paused for a few seconds. He knew why he did what he did, of course, he'd just never had to explain the reasons.

His arm turned over to present the top through the image beneath the other man's fingers, the quick motion briefly distorting it. Once it was still again Hannibal intentionally tried to render his arm in sharp relief, so detail was more easily picked out.

"Failures I have learned from, or success that took a toll. Each leaves its mark behind. They are coloured in to highlight them, scars rebuilt to become a part of something new and beautiful." Brilliant greens moved up from the arm to look first at the lightning scars across the muscular man's bronzed chest, then up to his face. Hannibal smiled in a friendly and patient kind of way, even as there was a subtle weight there in his features.

"I don't hide my scars. I wear them with pride."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was silent for a while as the man explained, his gaze fixed on the various intricate designs. He kept his fingertips against his skin even as the man turned his arm. There was a pensive look on his face for a moment till his gaze continued to travel up and then across his torso. At first glance it wasn’t too clear they were lightning scars - only upon closer inspection would be it apparent they were injuries.

“You hide,” He stated flatly, unconcerned with engaging the man in a debate beyond that. His own chest was an example of what scars looked like when they weren’t hidden. They were there in all their flawed beautify for anyone to judge however they pleased. They weren’t changed in any way. Emryc drew his hand back, recalling what it felt like to touch and see the same thing.

He thought about how the man made light of everything, how he had made jabs or played games. It wasn’t too unlike what he had seen among the Sith, though they played their games differently, “No one knows who you are,” Emryc stated curtly, thinking back to himself. He thought of how consistent he had been and yet still withdrawn enough to where he remained a puzzle. Was it done on purpose or subconsciously?

Emryc stretched and cracked different joints before he rose to stand. Trampling over a few more flowers unknowingly, he began to walk slightly past the tree and up towards a small hill.

@Mr. Teatime