Location: Main Camp.
Interacting with: Sana, Satilla
The stars were so distant, but the sun and moon were within our grasp. Shining brighter, the inner-self, the cosmic soul which turned and tossed about. Absorbing the aspect of the stars and emerging as the sun. His hair more golden, his skin more tan, and his resolve seemed to redouble in strength. It was as if Apollo himself had possessed him now, casting off the darkness of those twinkling stars. Warmth and Kindness to dispel haughtiness, the original incarnation of Thomas' Psyche. Neither the shy boy or arrogant one was a natural state for Thomas, perhaps taken at either extremes, yet it was so hard to be normal. Especially when you were not normal.
And when his eyes opened, the golden yellow brilliant like the sun, Thomas remembered everything. Every moment of it like watching someone else in control of your actions. Sort of, a different persona at least, as Thomas was a trinitous being. Each bit of him seemed to have their own autonomy, and overshadow each other when the influences drew near. Like how some were called lunatics due to being driven to madness by the influence of the moon. Each phase granted a different perspective and in doing so, changed the very nature of Thomas' thoughts and interactions with the world. For perception is often stronger than reality, as any gnome illusionist could tell you.
Another robe change then, red now. The high-collared black robe was ill suited for this phase which was far more down-to-earth. And now the central circle glowed upon his mystic tattoo. Sun phase was active and a new Thomas ventured back into the group, as he sought to find Keystone to apologize. And Sana to thank her, and Satilla to reconcile with and perhaps explain the nature of his transformations before he slipped into the bashful and uncertain Moon, or heavens forbid the god-complexed Star. Unfortunately Keystone seemed to have gone out for the moment, leaving a whistling kettle-pot in his place instead. Tea was probably a good idea given the pot and sachet of leaves. Strange, Master Wolfgang would usually separate the water with a kettle first, then leaves in the pot as he dictated leaves must be washed, for it was not water that needed to be dirtied with leaves. Or something philosophical like that. Either way it was usually tea first, then hot water, but it seems in this case Keystone had expected water then tea. A different way to go about it, but when you're making tea in a fire directly, there's not much to complain about as Thomas pointed at the leaves and dropped them into the kettle before taking the kettle out of the fire itself and letting it hover above the flames to slowly silence itself. Hopefully Keystone will come back to find his tea still hot as Thomas set the warm metal pot near the edge of the fire to be kept warm but not quite boil over. Although the strength of the tea would be dependent on the drinker, since Thomas did not know the man's preferences.
Sana was around, eating with the others to which Thomas hesitantly approached the dangerous woman,
"Thank you, I'm sorry for earlier. It's a bit of a shame for a farmboy like me to admit, but I can't reign in all my horses. Thanks, and if there's anything I could do to make up for it, just give me a whistle." The Analogy was hopefully enough to explain his loss of control compared to the better nature and humbled of his speech now. There was even a hint of rural accent to his voice, a wholesomeness which was not quite washed away as easily as leaves in a pot. With a nod he retreated, not wanting to stir up the pot, but hopefully enough to avoid her becoming annoyed at his sudden shift in personality with this twinge of respectful politeness sans hat to tip. Not bad for someone raised in a barn right? A barn he nearly set ablaze.
Finally was the issue of Satilla. Of whom the boy sat next to, and also apologized. She was the only other magical caster in the group, well, sort of, she was a healer, Thomas was more of a battle mage who controlled the tide of battle by manipulating the positions of the enemy.
"Hey, I hope I wasn't too much of an ass to you, and if I was, I'm sorry Miss. Being a sorcerer means there's three of me in this body, and I think you've just met the worst of me. I hope you can forgive me, and maybe Skittles can forgive me too."
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