Just
Tea
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 596 (0.15 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- OldManWong 11 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
9 yrs ago
Current
Mugging a bush for its berries
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Gideon doesn't need humans for sustenance, just tea.
Just
Tea
Just
Tea
Gideon's closed eyelids were illuminated in a red tint as sunshine battered against the skin. Most of the people were already up and going by the time Gideon's eyes fluttered open. His stiff posture and natural frown whilst he slept locked his muscles into a certain prone position that forced a few minutes of stretching before he had full flexibility once more. Having silently sat across his mattress completing his stretches, though they appeared more like some form of yoga, Gideon moved the nearby unoccupied mattresses away from himself, creating a small area around him clear of anything. Grabbing a hold of his large knapsack, Gideon used a small amount of red dust from a vial that had been conjured from his bag, placing it in a side compartment of a large water canteen. After a minimal pop, Gideon set up a small, simplistic, cup that appeared to be crafted of clay. He then meticulously shook out a portion of ground leaves from a small satchel, as if carrying out a scientific procedure. Gideon eventually methodically poured the, then boiling water, into the small cup, remaining still as the aroma filled the air surrounding him.
Finally pleased with his carefully crafted tea, Gideon began to sip away at the heated beverage, the scalding liquid warming him to the bone as contented shivers ran down his spine. Gideon's features, normally both sharp and harsh, softened with each small sip. To any onlooker, two things would become obvious rather quickly:
1. Gideon lived for certain things in life, they were things that made his life worth living.
2. To Gideon, tea was one of those things.
The aroma spread quickly throughout the ballroom due to the bustling movement surrounding Gideon's sanctuary of calm. Despite the fact that Gideon was placed close to the middle of the room, there was a certain tranquility brought about him that could only be distinguished by the fact that his somber and no-nonsense demeanor caused most people to steer clear of him.
As people went about packing their night-time attire, Gideon simply sat cross-legged, both aware of his surroundings yet the embodiment of utter calm. It seemed like his movements were almost automatic, his eyes barely open, his mouth barely twitching to intake the beverage that he held with barely awake hands. He mouthed words, though his voice was barely audible to himself, which was fine as Gideon only intended to mutter to himself
"A sanctuary to my taste, when every sense is over-stimulated. Even the aroma of the air is pungent as the smell of incense clashes with the smell of hundreds of recently showered bodies. My mouth must be a place of envy."
Gideon praises his own craftsmanship in making the tea, though he still never made a move to ready himself for the day.
Finally pleased with his carefully crafted tea, Gideon began to sip away at the heated beverage, the scalding liquid warming him to the bone as contented shivers ran down his spine. Gideon's features, normally both sharp and harsh, softened with each small sip. To any onlooker, two things would become obvious rather quickly:
1. Gideon lived for certain things in life, they were things that made his life worth living.
2. To Gideon, tea was one of those things.
The aroma spread quickly throughout the ballroom due to the bustling movement surrounding Gideon's sanctuary of calm. Despite the fact that Gideon was placed close to the middle of the room, there was a certain tranquility brought about him that could only be distinguished by the fact that his somber and no-nonsense demeanor caused most people to steer clear of him.
As people went about packing their night-time attire, Gideon simply sat cross-legged, both aware of his surroundings yet the embodiment of utter calm. It seemed like his movements were almost automatic, his eyes barely open, his mouth barely twitching to intake the beverage that he held with barely awake hands. He mouthed words, though his voice was barely audible to himself, which was fine as Gideon only intended to mutter to himself
"A sanctuary to my taste, when every sense is over-stimulated. Even the aroma of the air is pungent as the smell of incense clashes with the smell of hundreds of recently showered bodies. My mouth must be a place of envy."
Gideon praises his own craftsmanship in making the tea, though he still never made a move to ready himself for the day.
666 Posts
GG no re
GG no re
I always imagine when I make these long posts most people are like:
Too long
Too long
Gideon conversed with Blake, mostly making small talk until he could no longer remain in conversation, beginning to feel restless. Initiating the end of the conversation, Gideon explored the buildings for a good amount of time, his serious nature and appearance causing most people to simply avoid interaction with him, though he didn't mind it. He felt stuffy walking through the boardwalks that circumvented the school and allowed for passage of the many other students at the school. Deciding to make himself more comfortable, he found a tall, tower-like structure in the school's campus, utilizing the sheer athleticism that came with his long, lean form. his snake-like eyes gazed over the landscape with something that appeared similar to a hateful glare, though to Gideon, he was simply enjoying the fresh air and distant horizons.
The school's schedule thus far gave him far too much time to mull over his thoughts, he came to the school for respite from just that. He needed a break from his thoughts, the self conserving rhyme clashing violently with his moral reason-- The stone felt familiar under the touch of his hand-- the air was crisp but rather chilly-- the skyline was especially bombastic in comparison to his home-- Gideon interrupted his own thoughts with different subjects, his face taking on an annoyed countenance as he attempted to sporadically tune out his thoughts, though they always came back.
'A break' His father had said.
'A break is what he needed at this point in time, to reconcile himself and somehow leave, such deep cleaving wound left by the past; behind.'
Father had always taught him the stakes of taking a life, the experiences of each and every thought, the joys in life and the sorrows. The upbringings and downcomes. His father had always told him that each life has insurmountable value, greater than any amount of water, more important than any weapon or material.
His Father never told him how to withstand the weight of taking a life as well as the priceless value that came with it. No matter how Gideon justified it, the feeling of ending the thoughts, dreams, and passions of a life scared Gideon, despite his iron-like composure.
As the announcement rang out, informing students to assemble in the ballroom to sleep, Gideon jumped from his place up high on the structure. With great grace, he landed, though however graceful it might have been on the sandy dunes, landing on the stone cobble gave little way to absorb the impact of Gideon's weight, causing him to roll forward rather awkwardly. Wincing at the dull pain in his feet and ankles, Gideon began taking long strides towards the Ballroom, extinguishing his doubts and introspective thoughts from his mind, he rather turned his scrutinizing gaze towards other students, analyzing each one that walked along side him one by one.
Picking up his rather decorative cloth pack that looked designed to be an adequate weight for a camel, he slings the strap around his shoulder like a messenger bag. Walking into the changing rooms, he thought nothing disrobing completely despite the semi-populated room. Changing into silk pajama pants that appeared not only extremely expensive but extremely large, even for Gideon's larger-than-standard form. Standing at 6'4", Gideon's pajamas barely clung to his waist as the bottom cuffs wrapped around the mid-section of his feet. Grabbing the pack and walking out of the changing room without his standard shemagh and half-robes, it basically offered the first full view of his face, though, the somber features clashed rather brilliantly with the comically large pants he wore. Claiming an empty cot that was likely undesired because it was surrounded by groups of talking people, Gideon sat, with both of his scimitars in one hand, he placed both of them in his pack before setting the pack down and turning it so his clothes were face up, effectively becoming a massive make-shift pillow as it seemed his cot either had not received a pillow or somebody else held the belief they were entitled to the cot's pillow.
Without much ado, Gideon gazed at the other people for a few moments before deciding strongly against ensnaring himself in another conversation. Within a minute, he was asleep, almost as if timely sleeping was part of his living regimen.
The school's schedule thus far gave him far too much time to mull over his thoughts, he came to the school for respite from just that. He needed a break from his thoughts, the self conserving rhyme clashing violently with his moral reason-- The stone felt familiar under the touch of his hand-- the air was crisp but rather chilly-- the skyline was especially bombastic in comparison to his home-- Gideon interrupted his own thoughts with different subjects, his face taking on an annoyed countenance as he attempted to sporadically tune out his thoughts, though they always came back.
'A break' His father had said.
'A break is what he needed at this point in time, to reconcile himself and somehow leave, such deep cleaving wound left by the past; behind.'
Father had always taught him the stakes of taking a life, the experiences of each and every thought, the joys in life and the sorrows. The upbringings and downcomes. His father had always told him that each life has insurmountable value, greater than any amount of water, more important than any weapon or material.
His Father never told him how to withstand the weight of taking a life as well as the priceless value that came with it. No matter how Gideon justified it, the feeling of ending the thoughts, dreams, and passions of a life scared Gideon, despite his iron-like composure.
As the announcement rang out, informing students to assemble in the ballroom to sleep, Gideon jumped from his place up high on the structure. With great grace, he landed, though however graceful it might have been on the sandy dunes, landing on the stone cobble gave little way to absorb the impact of Gideon's weight, causing him to roll forward rather awkwardly. Wincing at the dull pain in his feet and ankles, Gideon began taking long strides towards the Ballroom, extinguishing his doubts and introspective thoughts from his mind, he rather turned his scrutinizing gaze towards other students, analyzing each one that walked along side him one by one.
Picking up his rather decorative cloth pack that looked designed to be an adequate weight for a camel, he slings the strap around his shoulder like a messenger bag. Walking into the changing rooms, he thought nothing disrobing completely despite the semi-populated room. Changing into silk pajama pants that appeared not only extremely expensive but extremely large, even for Gideon's larger-than-standard form. Standing at 6'4", Gideon's pajamas barely clung to his waist as the bottom cuffs wrapped around the mid-section of his feet. Grabbing the pack and walking out of the changing room without his standard shemagh and half-robes, it basically offered the first full view of his face, though, the somber features clashed rather brilliantly with the comically large pants he wore. Claiming an empty cot that was likely undesired because it was surrounded by groups of talking people, Gideon sat, with both of his scimitars in one hand, he placed both of them in his pack before setting the pack down and turning it so his clothes were face up, effectively becoming a massive make-shift pillow as it seemed his cot either had not received a pillow or somebody else held the belief they were entitled to the cot's pillow.
Without much ado, Gideon gazed at the other people for a few moments before deciding strongly against ensnaring himself in another conversation. Within a minute, he was asleep, almost as if timely sleeping was part of his living regimen.
Kill him off.
Conrad has died of dysentery.
Blake experiences PTSD from his time playing Oregon Trail
Conrad has died of dysentery.
Blake experiences PTSD from his time playing Oregon Trail
Also, forgive the typos, I'm stuck on my phone until the OS finishes installation.
Also, forgive the typos, I'm stuck on my phone until the OS finishes installation.
Atlas is an example of weird manly.
Gideon is an example of awkward manly.
Gideon is an example of awkward manly.
Gideon smiles warmly as he is approached by the two new figures, though it is lost on them as it is hidden behind the cloth of his scarf. They inquire about Atlas perched upon the hammer that rested on Gideon's head. "Oh? You over estimate my strength. Though it is quite the feat of balance, Atlas's semblance is that of weight manipulation. " Gideon states, though, as he scans the two over his interest is caught by the glowing sword, "Is that custom or a heirloom, it appears quite potent."
© 2007-2024