The garden's usually quiet this late at night, but people are always out and about when they 'shouldn't' be. Like Fandaniel, in the corner of the garden's car, carefully bit by bit constructing what looks awfully like it's meant to be a tiny shrine.
And it's made out of what looks like obsidian and amethyst, a deep sense of darkness so strong it's almost tangible there. Not frightening, not hostile, simply ... existing. Like a patch of night had detatched itself and affixed its presence in the stone.
It's taking a lot of effort to build, it seems. Fandaniel sits cross-legged on the bare dirt, a new approximately brick-sized block of obsidian slowly constructing itself in his hands in a tiny starshower of pale blue light slowly staining purple and then black and then into block, mote by mote, little speck by little speck. It's taken him a good ten minutes to construct a mere half-block, and the effort's leaving him visibly weary, but he's not stopping yet. There's so much more to be done!
As soon as someone approaches though, the little specks of light and shadow pause. "...Could I trouble you to find me a drink, stranger?" It's such an innocent question from someone who by now probably has a sturdy reputation as a grouch. But something in this construction seems to have lightened his mood a fair bit!
[OOC: I ... can't think of other scenarios to write up at the moment, but if you have one, wildcards are definitely an option! Want to presume some CR? Fire me off a PM and let's work stuff out. Fandaniel's grumpy but excessively fond of plants, counts as Definitely Not Normal to most extrahuman senses, and has strong opinions about piracy .. in favor of the pirates.]
Fandaniel | FFXIV AU
The garden's usually quiet this late at night, but people are always out and about when they 'shouldn't' be. Like Fandaniel, in the corner of the garden's car, carefully bit by bit constructing what looks awfully like it's meant to be a tiny shrine.
And it's made out of what looks like obsidian and amethyst, a deep sense of darkness so strong it's almost tangible there. Not frightening, not hostile, simply ... existing. Like a patch of night had detatched itself and affixed its presence in the stone.
It's taking a lot of effort to build, it seems. Fandaniel sits cross-legged on the bare dirt, a new approximately brick-sized block of obsidian slowly constructing itself in his hands in a tiny starshower of pale blue light slowly staining purple and then black and then into block, mote by mote, little speck by little speck. It's taken him a good ten minutes to construct a mere half-block, and the effort's leaving him visibly weary, but he's not stopping yet. There's so much more to be done!
As soon as someone approaches though, the little specks of light and shadow pause. "...Could I trouble you to find me a drink, stranger?" It's such an innocent question from someone who by now probably has a sturdy reputation as a grouch. But something in this construction seems to have lightened his mood a fair bit!
[OOC: I ... can't think of other scenarios to write up at the moment, but if you have one, wildcards are definitely an option! Want to presume some CR? Fire me off a PM and let's work stuff out. Fandaniel's grumpy but excessively fond of plants, counts as Definitely Not Normal to most extrahuman senses, and has strong opinions about piracy .. in favor of the pirates.]