@madaean
Cole was a tall, lanky young man entirely too skinny for his own good. As softly as he stepped, there were certain attributes he possessed that did not go unnoticed by those he carefully shuffled past. There was no amount of shadow grand enough to shield him from view, the resident ‘creepy’ apparition few completely trusted.
Once he could make them forget if he really wanted them to. He could not be seen unless he wished it to be so.
Once was no longer. Now he was more real, more in touch with the world in ways that hadn’t been before.
Sera often called him names [and sometimes bopped him upside the head]. And Vivian simply turned up her nose, even after the gifts he gave to her.
It did not hurt his feelings as it probably should have. He didn’t pay it any thought [though he was sure, sometimes, to correct assumptions made. He was not a demon] focusing instead on performing those subtle gestures to improve the outlook of the day for the people who shunned him in the next breath.
Locating lost mementos
Feeding the cats [and sometimes the rats]
passing along messages they feared to relay themselves.
Only a few of the acts he engaged at any given moment.
Sometimes his methods were more unconventional than serving as a simple messenger, or delivering what goods he guessed would achieve a favorable ends.
Sometimes what actions he got into were downright baffling.
The concept of humanity was, by itself, far too complex a theory to attach words of a conventional variety. It was composed of far too many beliefs intertwined into one, a dizzying array of personal perspective and state of being. Humanity was more than simply a conscious, intelligent mind. Cole was only beginning his journey toward grasping what he thought he had already understood. He didn’t. There was so much that had been missing before he released the pent up rage in his heart, so much he hadn’t realized he’d been lacking until his essence was threatened to be bound by the enemy.
There was a lady he watched. Stared at more like. Morrigan. The witch of a thousand names, each one a fragmented piece of herself. It was only when they were all combined that she became herself. Though she drifted, quick to replace her truth with yet another mask.
He was told by Solas that he should not interfere. That he should stay the course and allow those around him to ease their own discomfort in the way of their choosing [however much their choosing made no choice sense]. But that didn’t stop him from staring, from wondering when they were going to start with the fixing?
