Description:

For your character, wherever they may be, the weather today is perfect. Their eyes are drawn toward the stars in a private moment of peace and solitude that extends across time and space to infinite possibilities.

What is your character doing right now, in relation to their circumstance and the world they exist in?

From their perspective, what makes them feel the weather is perfect?

Note:

Please take a moment to reply! Any of your original characters can be used, regardless of their background. Consider this a tiny hiatus in your character's journey, and an opportunity to connect indirectly with other people's imaginations.

Guide:

A minimum effort of three lines would be appreciated. You may reply with more than one original character in multiple posts. Ideally, as per the description in the first paragraph, your character should look up at some point. Give us a brief glimpse into your world and introduce us to your character!

Example:

See below.

Now Ryand had been in the sky, the perfect air flowing through him like a sort of spiritual wave through the wings of the machine. The new system had managed to make him, a sort of one, with the machine, and he loved it. He could fly, with wings of of dark steel, and he could feel the thermals, the currents, the circulation of clouds, all the machine's sensors were one with his own mind. He turned the mech's head upwards, and he saw it, a small, thin waspy cloud. this cloud would be a fun trek, he thought, as he adjusted his wings. The large, almost angel like wings of his custom machine, caught the high updraft, and helped to push him into the mixture of air and dust, it was like a sort of snowball, if he could describe the cloud.

***

Mathis tossed his natural, thin straight green hair and rested his fingers on the wide glass pane; it was smooth and cool to the touch with a view that encompassed what must have been thousands of stars and planets. Empty couches and dimmed lights served to establish the meditative atmosphere of the lounge as he looked out into the vastness of space. It was a familiar sight for any child born in the colonies, but this time a particular object distinguished itself from the rest:

The planet, earth.

It was picture perfect; the patterned streak of white clouds over chiseled continents and boundless oceans. From this distance he could easily forget about the conflict and see the world for what it is - a colorful blue and white ball that evoked in him a yearning for home. The troubling part was, when the image reflected itself in his red eyes, everything seemed to be engulfed in blood and flame.

He did not move for the better part of an hour, all the while gazing at that special piece of rock in the galaxy with a stern look on his face, not understanding why it stirred mixed emotions in him.

Well, I took your advice and stepped my character outside to look at the stars, and I must say! Quite a telling sight. The weather was perfect--wonderfully, unspeakably perfect. Not much for peace and solitude, however, as destiny may.

Gone. That’s how it usually ends.

With a bitter taste of frustration on the roof of his mouth, Aaron sat in front of a hallowed monitor. It was the same as he left it, layered with dust, one month ago; two months ago; one year ago. Has it always looked like this? The computer screen crowned the center of a white wooden desk. The cupboards to the immediate right and left were a muddle of books, magazines, folders, letters, computer games from ages past, foreign language tutorials, postcards from oh so prestigious universities from around the nation, a package of printing paper, an unused package of extra fine printing paper dating back to 2003, some markers long dried, a plastic purse, pencils like those from second grade, a Livestrong bracelet, headphones, and trivial notes or notices that reflected lost memories.

On one of those special pieces of paper taped above his computer screen, two words were scribbled and highlighted and decorated and sent especially to me: Love, Olivia. He didn't know when the note was written; he almost wishes he could remember, but Aaron didn't want to think about it. Why is it still up there? He mused, but doesn't make any effort to take it down. To the right of it was a reminder typed in New Times Roman, bolded 18 font; it was entitled "New year solution", meant New Year Resolution, and forgotten like any old petty promise.

The bottom right cupboard contained an orange box. Knowing what awaited inside, Aaron laughed to himself; most geeks probably wouldn't soon get the joke--a reference to uncanny current events. Inside was dusty world inhabited by a small hill of old computer games, random CD's, and empty CD cases. A pile of Electronic Gaming Magazine, dating three years prior, was stashed in the back. Gently, Aaron dusted his ancient playthings. These had been precious to him as reefer has been important to smoke addicts. He didn't know the five digit number of hours which his addiction has wasted his childhood; quite frankly, he didn't want to know. They kept him alive, and as he is breathing now, that's all that matters. Right?

The top right cupboard housed weeks of lessons compacted into convenient little CD-ROMs--the new generation of textbooks, perhaps. It was a disguise, a ruse towards the pursuit of knowledge, and one that failed miserably. Half of them haven't been opened. ProOne Spanish claimed to be quoted as "Quality. Value. Incredible Selection." The critic must've been blind, deaf, and a happily paid drunkard. Amusingly, a copy of Dungeon Siege rested on top of the pile of wasted academics.

Academics. That seemed to be the dreams of his parents and the life of Aaron. The ironically named ‘New year solution’ was a study schedule and a calendar of SAT testing dates. Two handsomely thick SAT preparation books were hidden among piles of full notebooks and scraps of paper laced with mathematical equations. The endless supply of letters and postcards from attracted colleges was a first place trophy of his academic achievements and the answer to his parents’ undying prayers. And he made it to the top, the pinnacle of educational honors, when Aaron departed to college. That was four months ago.

Yet he never left; his life never winked. Time stood still in the sanctuary of his domain—the only place he could really call his—the white wooden desk and the monitor. It was his life, and it was a mess. At that the seventeen-year-old concluded, as the world still spun madly on around him. His father was packing, speeding through the rooms as if in fast forward. His mother was washing the dishes and screaming at his baby sister to go to bed. The downstairs television was on and tuned to probably a sitcom or soap opera—usually nobody could tell the difference nowadays. The upstairs television sang with Disney flair from behind his sister’s closed bedroom door. Here Aaron was—typing--when he realized that he hadn’t gazed upon the night sky for the last four months. Perhaps for the last four years. The windows were blurred with wetness, droplets of rain; the weather was perfect. A downpour to wash the filth off the face of the earth!

And he stepped outside to a starless and frigid night.

Gone. Gone were the stars. Gone was the warmth. Gone were bittersweet romances. Gone were months anchored to the computer screen. Gone were the study session naps. Gone was his life. Tomorrow, he would be gone as well. Gone off to college. Simply, gone. That’s how it usually ends.

The dreams that made her feel like she was falling were the ones that frightened her the most, because more often than not she slept on the tops of apartment buildings. You know, those dreams that are milliseconds long, where you can't see anything but the dark ground rushing up to meet you, and your muscles tense up in one last desperate plea for life. That's how you wake up, moments before your own death, legs spasming as if your veins themselves know that you are not having a good time in that unconscious of yours. That's what Myr experienced tonight, and practically every night. She clutched her tattered fire blanket tightly and swung her jade green eyes wildly around in the dark to inspect her surroundings. Yep, alive, still on the roof. Still hungry.

"Thank God," she muttered unconsciously, sitting up and running her tanned hands through her uncombed, unruly black curls while she brought her knees to her chest. Eyes closed, one big breath slowly filled her lungs, she held it for 5 seconds, and as she slowly released the used air back into the atmosphere, she tilted her head back gingerly, as she has done every other night to relax her nerves from dream-falls. Only this time, as Myr opened her eyes, she noticed the Milky Way staring back down at her. She was speechless. She didn't even have the mind to rationalize seeing so many stars, nor had she the senses, since catching sight of the spectacle, to see that there had been a severe blackout in the night, so the city's light pollution was no longer an issue. She was stuck, staring at a clear, endlessly dark sky, with a full moon enveloped in stars, her eyes saccading back and forth between conspicuous clusters, identifying constellations she had only previously seen in textbooks.

Myr was told once that the human body was made mostly of the same elements as star stuff, and she could feel it now; she could identify with the twinkling ocean above her. Her heartrate quickened once more, this time not from fright, but from excitement. Tears welled up in her eyes as the tips of her extremities tingled with life.

"Thank you, God," whispered Myr in breathy reverence through a wide grin.

The last of the screams died away. The glowing embers of what once were buildings gleamed in the autumn gloom. Chilled winds waft through the ruins carrying the smell of charred wood and flesh across the country side.
Skallagrim walked slowly through the remains of the Slave Pens; the mangled bodies of the human guards lay strew everywhere. Their masters had deserted them, leaving them to face the wrath of the Xindhi.

The sounds of riders echoed hollowly through the ruins. Skallagrim gripped his swords and wheeled around, his eyes flashing their green glow as he spotted the source of the noise.

Riding towards him were mounted Xindhi, their glowing eyes cast pale green light as they scoured the area, looking for any survivors…to kill. Skallagrim grunted and sat on stoop of a ruined building, the mounted Xindhi passed him, some nodded, and others cheered. But they didn’t stop. For which he was grateful.

Casting about he saw that no one, not a living thing anywhere near him. He reached under his cloak and pulled out a small, singed stuffed doll. Peering at the doll Skallagrim dredge memories of his daughter Rhiannon, running through the grass, her stuffed doll clutched tight to her chest. Her small voice calling out to him as she ran towards him,

Daddy, Daddy…I see you- her giggle was infectious and in turn Skallagrim began laughing himself.
Daddy can we look at the lights? Can we look for the gods? She asked as she launched herself into his arms.
Sure honey, I wouldn’t want to do anything else right now- Skallagrim swung her around and plopped down on the ground and leaned back, the weight of Rhiannon pressed against his arms as she pointed out the Gods in the settling dusk.

Skallagrim leaned back and looked up at the stars. Pulling the doll tight to his chest he stared and felt a peace surround him.
Lost in his memories Skallagrim whispered to the sky above

At this moment I am neither Light nor Dark, I am just a man holding his daughter, watching the stars go by.

The sun begins to set behind the mountains. The last light of its pink and orange hues cast over a small garden, full of flowering plants. Sitting on a large flat stone near a small water garden rest an old man. He sits crossed legged in deep thought as the wind delicately brushes through his long silver hair. His dark eyes turn to the first of the stars to enter the night sky. Peace, after countless wars and struggles. Peace. A tear falls from his eye, rolling from his cheek it falls to the hard surface of the stone on which he sits.

~ Massahiro Hamano

OOC: Still a little rusty, but with a little practice it will all come back to me. Great topic by the way.

A great wind rushed by the entrnal floating island that Telgar slept upon. Pulling himself up right as Telgar began to awaken, he looked about the bare island that tranverses entire deminsions. Telgar stood upright and turned to face Destiny's Gateway. Brushing dirt off of his red coat arm, he looked up at the strang purple sky enjoying the perfect surreal weather. No deminsional rifts today thought Telgar, as he strolled across the matted earth. Begining to walk towards the massive bronze and green gateway, Telgar said "Time to give birth to a new destiny..."

-Facesforce
OOC:This is my first ever role playing introduction. Was it ok?

OOC: Well done, my friend!

He nodded, floating above the thermal layer, the wings of the Personal flyer holding him through the light and porous cloud that lazily floated above the massive Southern Sea. Diving down, he raced around a flight of large, avian creatures, who cairned their necks lazily at the almost unnatural flyer., but instead, went on in their V pattern. He had to work, and not play around, even on this near perfect day, so he quickly formed back into his normal pattern. flying around to find sings of weakness, or possible sneak attacks.

LSS stretched her sore little arms over her head and failed to stifle a yawn. It had been a long and tedious day and she didn't care to recall any of the events. All that mattered at that moment was the view that stretched out into the dark horizon around her. At her perch upon the highest point, there was nothing she couldn't see. LSS had tried to count every one of the glittering stars overhead but always lost count and had to start over. The earth was quiet all around. Not a sound crept to her ears except the occasional hoot of an owl or the chirp of a cricket. All was still and she enjoyed the silence there in the woods, high in the mountains. Here no one would have to know she was around. Here, under the starry sky no one made a second thought about her presence on this planet. LSS shifted her weight to one arm, tilting her head back to stare at the stars above her brushing a strand of messy raven black hair out of her eyes. Her tail freely snaked left and right across the cool rocky ground. No one would bother her here with questions or ask why such a small sweet looking child didn't have any parents. In truth, she was a bit lonely. She missed her friends and wondered where they were and what they could be doing this very moment.

((OOC: Holy crap. I haven't RPed in a long time let alone RPed LSS. Bare with my horribleness. xD I'll get my 'groove' back eventually (I hope).))