There was a time when the long walks that separated place to place was a staggering challenge to Soldier Blue. He didn't remember them; those times were not his yet. The Soldier that walked today had all the strength of youth without the weight of three centuries and their troubles, but his yoke was not light by any stretch. He had feared the loss of his meaning here, a Soldier without Mu to guard, and then they came, and...nothing was as it had been. Things had gotten complicated. There was no way to walk away from it all, but no clear path to move forward.
Even so, he was Soldier. Whether he could see the way or not, it was his responsibility to move. The only moving he could do at the moment, though, was weaving carefully through congested streets. A distressing task at that--humans don't guard their thoughts. What need was there for that? Psychics were not native to this place. Their mental monologues and memories were a barrage of noise that Blue had to steer through just as he had to maneuver through the bodies that they belonged to. Joy, anger, anxiety, depression...Every emotion was a color all its own, an attention-grabbing array that defied the normal senses and made focus and peace rarities. Zeroing in on an idea, a person, a thought...it dimmed the rest of the noisy world and gave Blue the grasp to continue.
Familiarity was a shock of lightning in dark places--strangely accented by faraway thunder. His mind's eye followed it straight ahead to the fair-haired boy approaching. He knew this one. Bakura.
Blue stopped, drifting out of the way of passers-by and hugging close to the wall of a red brick building, watching, waiting. He would draw near, yet...Blue was uncertain of how to approach, himself. Friends, huh...
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Even so, he was Soldier. Whether he could see the way or not, it was his responsibility to move. The only moving he could do at the moment, though, was weaving carefully through congested streets. A distressing task at that--humans don't guard their thoughts. What need was there for that? Psychics were not native to this place. Their mental monologues and memories were a barrage of noise that Blue had to steer through just as he had to maneuver through the bodies that they belonged to. Joy, anger, anxiety, depression...Every emotion was a color all its own, an attention-grabbing array that defied the normal senses and made focus and peace rarities. Zeroing in on an idea, a person, a thought...it dimmed the rest of the noisy world and gave Blue the grasp to continue.
Familiarity was a shock of lightning in dark places--strangely accented by faraway thunder. His mind's eye followed it straight ahead to the fair-haired boy approaching. He knew this one. Bakura.
Blue stopped, drifting out of the way of passers-by and hugging close to the wall of a red brick building, watching, waiting. He would draw near, yet...Blue was uncertain of how to approach, himself. Friends, huh...