Post by Noah Hulley on Mar 22, 2020 4:34:08 GMT
NOAH HULLEY (OPEN)
A soft wind billowed along the street, rushing through the crowds of people that had gathered together. The air smelled freshly of the ocean, of sea-salt and the beginnings of a new season. Noah breathed it in deeply, greedily inhaling the freshness of the ozone before closing his eyes against it and allowing it to envelope him. The streets were loud this morning, what with the gathering of people that had formed around him. He stood still, one leg lifted up against the brick lay of the building behind him, his arms crossed against his broad chest and his long, brown locks of hair strewn about his shoulders. His brown eyes travelled across the people, resting on each and every one and taking in their appearances. He raised a hand to stroke at the rugged beard that touched his chin, allowed his fingers to trace a line across his jaw as he stood, dressed in military garb and surveyed the people.
He felt at peace here, in these bustling streets, with the soft cacophony of whispered word. The conversations between the townsfolk of which he called his home. He slowly lowered his foot to the ground and began down the road, taking in the architecture of Taras and the many folk that wandered around him. He thought back to his childhood, perusing the streets in search of nefarious acts to partake in and compared them to now, where he had sworn to serve and protect them. It was in stark contrast to how he had grown up, the differences palpable. He had come so far and yet moved perhaps only an inch. As it stood, Noah was a large man with the ability to ward off most ne’er-do-well’s but there was a small part of him who felt mostly inadequate next to the vision he had of himself inside his brain. It brought forth the question of what he was willing to do, to sacrifice, to be a stronger, better version of himself.
Noah moved through the masses carefully, taking note of the people who eyed him, who took in his large frame and met his eyes. He pondered over the usefulness of his being here, wondered if he could be somewhere more appropriate, where he was needed. Noah increased his pace down toward the alleyways and stopped only when he reached the corner of a larger street. Here the crowd had dispersed, allowing only stragglers to linger. Noah pushed himself back against the wall, observing the throngs of strangers, the people he had sword to protect. The businesses that lined the street housed many different characters, some shady but most hard-working individuals just trying to get by.
Was there a solution to his problem here?
Noah sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. It was these feelings of inadequacy that had a tendency to creep up on him, the picturesque memory of meeting that man so long ago burnt into the forefront’s of his brain. He had done what he could in order to emulate him. He had followed in his footsteps, attended school like he should have and moved to Taras to quantify the dreams that the nameless stranger had instilled upon him and yet he still felt as if something was missing. As if his entire being was just a charade, a mask he donned in the daylight to fool the strangers that wandered around him. There had to be something more out there for him, something that would allow him to feel...complete. He didn’t feel like a solider guarding the streets of Taras, he felt like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Get a hold of yourself, Noah.” The man chastised himself outwardly, removing himself from the wall and once again parading down the street. He took notice in how much taller he was then most of the townsfolk, watched as the men inside the business windows avoided his eyes as he crossed the cobblestone. He took notice of it, but it was not enough. He wanted more. Always more.
There was something to be said about his strange obsession, a dedication to his craft perhaps but more like the inability to be weaker than anyone or anything. His desperate desire to be more than just human hummed inside his ears like a soft lullaby and it never ceased. It persisted day and night, day and night until the cacophony of sounds was all he could hear, all he could think about. Relentless it was and it fuelled a deep-seeded rage inside the man that he feared he could not contain.
Noah walked faster down the lane, stopping only once he reached the edge of the street that peered over the ocean. The sounds of soft waves hitting the sand in the distance calmed him, allowed him to take a few more deep breaths and collect his being. This too, would pass, eventually. The sky in the distance was clear, the clouds collecting in the wide and bright blue. The sun was high in the sky, indicating mid morning and its rays burst to life over the gentle hues of the sea. The salty air clung to his lungs and in the wake of it Noah breathed deeply. Taras was perhaps the most beautiful place he had set foot in, second only to his hometown.
Ah. Moten. The place he had grown up allowed for mixed emotions to crawl around the insides of his stomach. He remembered the shipyards fondly of course, it was where he had grown and become a man but it was also where he had found the most trouble, where he had been threatened with the confines of jail. Had he not met the man in the alleyway perhaps his life would have turned out much differently and he would be walking the streets of Ziorang instead. Would things really be so disparate? Would this unquenchable thirst for brawn still be weighted to his back like an anchor or would he have found peace in the iniquitous lifestyle? It was useless to dwell on thoughts like these and yet dwell he did, standing in the light provided by the sun, Noah allowed his brain to wonder to what life would have had in store for him if he had not encountered the stranger that changed his life.
A soft wind billowed along the street, rushing through the crowds of people that had gathered together. The air smelled freshly of the ocean, of sea-salt and the beginnings of a new season. Noah breathed it in deeply, greedily inhaling the freshness of the ozone before closing his eyes against it and allowing it to envelope him. The streets were loud this morning, what with the gathering of people that had formed around him. He stood still, one leg lifted up against the brick lay of the building behind him, his arms crossed against his broad chest and his long, brown locks of hair strewn about his shoulders. His brown eyes travelled across the people, resting on each and every one and taking in their appearances. He raised a hand to stroke at the rugged beard that touched his chin, allowed his fingers to trace a line across his jaw as he stood, dressed in military garb and surveyed the people.
He felt at peace here, in these bustling streets, with the soft cacophony of whispered word. The conversations between the townsfolk of which he called his home. He slowly lowered his foot to the ground and began down the road, taking in the architecture of Taras and the many folk that wandered around him. He thought back to his childhood, perusing the streets in search of nefarious acts to partake in and compared them to now, where he had sworn to serve and protect them. It was in stark contrast to how he had grown up, the differences palpable. He had come so far and yet moved perhaps only an inch. As it stood, Noah was a large man with the ability to ward off most ne’er-do-well’s but there was a small part of him who felt mostly inadequate next to the vision he had of himself inside his brain. It brought forth the question of what he was willing to do, to sacrifice, to be a stronger, better version of himself.
Noah moved through the masses carefully, taking note of the people who eyed him, who took in his large frame and met his eyes. He pondered over the usefulness of his being here, wondered if he could be somewhere more appropriate, where he was needed. Noah increased his pace down toward the alleyways and stopped only when he reached the corner of a larger street. Here the crowd had dispersed, allowing only stragglers to linger. Noah pushed himself back against the wall, observing the throngs of strangers, the people he had sword to protect. The businesses that lined the street housed many different characters, some shady but most hard-working individuals just trying to get by.
Was there a solution to his problem here?
Noah sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. It was these feelings of inadequacy that had a tendency to creep up on him, the picturesque memory of meeting that man so long ago burnt into the forefront’s of his brain. He had done what he could in order to emulate him. He had followed in his footsteps, attended school like he should have and moved to Taras to quantify the dreams that the nameless stranger had instilled upon him and yet he still felt as if something was missing. As if his entire being was just a charade, a mask he donned in the daylight to fool the strangers that wandered around him. There had to be something more out there for him, something that would allow him to feel...complete. He didn’t feel like a solider guarding the streets of Taras, he felt like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Get a hold of yourself, Noah.” The man chastised himself outwardly, removing himself from the wall and once again parading down the street. He took notice in how much taller he was then most of the townsfolk, watched as the men inside the business windows avoided his eyes as he crossed the cobblestone. He took notice of it, but it was not enough. He wanted more. Always more.
There was something to be said about his strange obsession, a dedication to his craft perhaps but more like the inability to be weaker than anyone or anything. His desperate desire to be more than just human hummed inside his ears like a soft lullaby and it never ceased. It persisted day and night, day and night until the cacophony of sounds was all he could hear, all he could think about. Relentless it was and it fuelled a deep-seeded rage inside the man that he feared he could not contain.
Noah walked faster down the lane, stopping only once he reached the edge of the street that peered over the ocean. The sounds of soft waves hitting the sand in the distance calmed him, allowed him to take a few more deep breaths and collect his being. This too, would pass, eventually. The sky in the distance was clear, the clouds collecting in the wide and bright blue. The sun was high in the sky, indicating mid morning and its rays burst to life over the gentle hues of the sea. The salty air clung to his lungs and in the wake of it Noah breathed deeply. Taras was perhaps the most beautiful place he had set foot in, second only to his hometown.
Ah. Moten. The place he had grown up allowed for mixed emotions to crawl around the insides of his stomach. He remembered the shipyards fondly of course, it was where he had grown and become a man but it was also where he had found the most trouble, where he had been threatened with the confines of jail. Had he not met the man in the alleyway perhaps his life would have turned out much differently and he would be walking the streets of Ziorang instead. Would things really be so disparate? Would this unquenchable thirst for brawn still be weighted to his back like an anchor or would he have found peace in the iniquitous lifestyle? It was useless to dwell on thoughts like these and yet dwell he did, standing in the light provided by the sun, Noah allowed his brain to wonder to what life would have had in store for him if he had not encountered the stranger that changed his life.
