favorthebold: (Hair in eyes)
[The feed clicks on when the PCD is tossed aside in disinterest by its user, probably because it isn't any good to eat.

Its user is, at the moment, a pale, malnourished adolescent - maybe fifteen - who moves with predatory purpose, examining his surroundings. He looks in desperate need of a hot meal, a full night's sleep, and maybe a haircut. But probably not a hug. He is holding a long pole whittled down to make a functional spear, and passes it from hand to hand every few minutes, moved by restless energy.

A few minutes' looking around later, though, that energy seems to desert him, all at once like a physical blow. With a long, quiet sigh, he crouches down next to the nearest wall and puts his hands down on his arms. His voice, when he speaks, sounds older than his appearance suggests.]


It doesn't matter. Across the border, all places are the same...


((OOC: No teen icons. Cope. No Ads memories either. Might age him further down as the week goes if I feel like it.))
favorthebold: (Hair in eyes)
[The scene is dim - lit, in fact, only by the PCD, as the windows of Saul's house are shut. The device has been knocked to the floor and captures the darkened bedroom. Saul is sitting up in the bed, hunched over, looking a wreck: bloodied, bandaged with scrapes of cloth, and dazed with fever. He stares at the air and mutters to himself, at some delirious shadows on he can see.]

I don't care, Grandfather. I have a talent, a gift, Mithra's own gift, and the army feeds me better than you ever could -

- I won't spare you, give me my gun - !


[He lurches forward at whatever it is he's seeing, reaching out a hand, but of course only grabs thin air. He blinks, shakes his head, then goes ashen pale; he rolls off the bed and drops with a heavy sound to the far side, and thus is thankfully out of the PCD's sight while being sick.

After a while, he appears again, pulling himself back onto the bed with an effort. His eyes are clearer now, motions steadier. Perhaps the fever has broken. His face is a mask of helpless frustration.

He sits on the bed and stares down at his hands.]



I am the most powerful Guardian on the continent... but what is a Guardian, here?
favorthebold: (Hair in eyes)
[The feed clicks on to a view blurred by heavy rain. In the not-so-far background towers the wall of the Inner City. The figure that peers down at the PCD, shaking the device, is at first shadowed and difficult to make out. A few hard taps later, however, the view clears.

Saul grins at the camera. It's a bit of a shaky grin - he looks exhausted, underfed and somewhat battered, generally the worse for wear. But there's a scary sort of light in those eyes. He looks very pleased with himself.]


Ah - still working. Good, good.

[He chuckles very softly, glancing back at the wall, then again at the device.]

Well, then - doma Bao. I'll be seeing you, I believe.

[That said, Saul's hand drops to his side, affording a brief view of him standing, braced against a building wall, head tilted back and eyes and mouth open to the rain, before he starts moving - slow and stiff but purposeful - and the feed switches off.]

[Private to Carmen//difficult to hack] )
favorthebold: (deep in thought)
[The feed clicks on to the sounds of shuffling, furniture being shifted, and after a moment, the crackling of a new fire. When Saul speaks, his voice is just a little bit ragged - just enough so that he doesn't sound quite like his usual smooth self]

It's been longer than I suppose, hasn't it? What is the date?

Blast... I'm so tired.


Private to Carmen//hard to hack )

Private to Alphonse//viewable by Kakashi and Carmen, hard to hack )
favorthebold: (Oh so pretty)
[The feed is switched on by a random crackling of electricity, the origin of which is soon revealed. The place is Unohana's clinic, one of the rooms; the video shows Saul sitting next to a bed, tattered and wounded, his head in his hands. He doesn't look percisely sad or broken, more tired - and focusd. There's a very faint buzz in the air around him, like static electricity, giving the air in the room a soft eerie low.

In the bed lies Carmen's body - if only she'd been breathing, she'd have looked asleep. But of course, she isn't.

Saul speaks very quietly.]


Spirits of this land, powers of this world... I've kept true. I have stayed my blade when you wished me to, I have always spoken in your favor. My fortune is yours to decide.

We've only just begun to understand each other. Don't take her... not yet.

[The prayer spoken, he lets his hands drop to his sides, and leans back in the chair, eyes closed, calm now.]
favorthebold: (Oh so pretty)
[The video comes on, patchy and blurred, as a hand lands on the PCD obviously by accident. A moment later it moves to reveal the view - a man of indeterminate age, tattered and bloodied, working his way from a prone position to his knees with slow, stunned caution. He peers at the PCD for a moment - obviously not understanding what he's seeing - then turns away from it and looks around for something else.]

... snow? Kaibern was sunny... this isn't my snow.

He must've had backup...

That woman...

[With a faint call of approval, the man staightens, holding up what he was searching for - a grappling hook and long line. Clutching it, he starts working his way to his feet, still slow, cautious and visibly dazed.]

Where am I...?

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Saul Samaren

December 2020

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