soul_campaign | ( one ) video; january 28th; morning

[ cue one very confused little white haired boy trying to turn on the communicator. this was nothing like the golems back home. the background behind him has some trees in it- he's outside somewhere, although he has no idea where. ]

Hello, my name is Allen Walker.

[ realizing it's filming his hair instead of his face, he adjusts the screen as he figures out exactly where he’s going with this. ]

Um… I’ve been told I was here before, but I really don’t remember anything. So I guess this is a hello again to some of you. I’m sorry if we knew each other well, or even just in passing.

I’d like to start helping out [ again? ], if anyone has any information on how I might be able to do that, I would appreciate it.

[ and then the lovuungest pause while it's clear he's messing with the communicator EVEN MORE. ]

Also does this thing have a map? I think I'm lost.

( ooc: so the other Allen just recently left. feel free to have your character not even notice that he was gone. :x )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The dead aren't meant to be brought back. [ he looks a little down when he says this-- but then his expression clears and he smiles a little. ] Your magic sounds amazing.

They return in my world, sometimes. And sometimes they are brought back by people. But I am of the opinion that I should not be the one to lift them up. [She, too, has lost important people. And it pained her to say that.] My parents were both powerful mages in their own right. To be honest, I do not think my father had ever considered my abilities would grow as they did.

[ bahh he's going to avoid the topic of death. ] Abilities can always be pushed farther, even when we think we've reached our limit.

Magic is defined in its own way in my world; there are rules that it must abide by. And, while some can be learned, the potential must be there to begin with. A person without potential, without some Homo Magi blood in them or without a god-gifted ability or without a totem cannot use it.

[ he shrugs a little. ] That makes sense, but isn't it still up to the wielder to decide how strong they get? By how hard they push themselves?

There are limits that cannot be broken. Laws of the universe.

Oh. [ well, every world is different, isn't it? ]

Are there others from your home here?

Briefly, a man who had died several years ago named Ted Kord was here. I hadn't known him all that well when he was alive. [In case it wasn't already obvious...] He isn't here any longer. It's just me, now.

You're lucky. [ mumble mumble. ]

Sometimes. Not everyone can or does. And some have brief interludes before suffering further. The shade of one I know has haunted my world for nearly two decades. As a ghost, first, then used to prove a point -- that sometimes good people who dedicate their lives to good deeds go to Hell. And there, he was tortured. [Her voice is cold and detached. So much so that it has to be personal.] And then, after years of that, he still helped in a rebellion in Hell in hopes of making it a more gentle place. For that -- [She stabs at her pie, leaving a big chunk of the crust on her fork, putting it in her mouth, chewing far too little, then swallowing.] -- he was confined to soul death, unable to exist in any form on any plane of existence in that reality ever again.

[She takes a sip of water; her voice was starting to become dry and cracked.] It's not always a good thing.

[ have a very frowny Allen at that story. saving souls is his thing, you see, and so that's the very kind of thing he wishes to prevent. ]

I'm sorry that happened to him.

My father did not regret a single moment of his life or death. He lived it by his own terms.

[He was good like that, her father. A true gentleman and excellent role model to the end.]

Your father.

[ he repeats it slowly, and a bit sadly. he knows what that's like, losing your father. ]

It's good that he was able to live that way.

He lived a long, prosperous life. It's been nearly twenty years since his death, but he was well into his hundreds by then. Long for a normal human, but short for our kind, I suppose.

He would not have taken my place, had he not wanted to.

[ Allen nods his understanding, some understanding anyway, and then falls back to finishing his slice in silence. the worlds that people came from in this place were all so different. ]

Sorry. I don't talk about my father as much as I used to. I tend to become very vocal when I finally do.

That's okay, it's probably good to talk about it. [ not that he. ever does... ]

Sometimes. It isn't something you should lock away -- not completely, anyway.

[ he shakes his head, pushing his empty plate away from him. ] I don't think so.

Anyway, you don't have to stick around and wait for him to come back. [She gets to her feet with a smile, happy to change the subject.] I could help you find your room, if you'd like.

[ he stares at her a moment and he's sure the uncertainty he's feeling is written clearly across his face. he's not exactly eager to see his master (when is he ever?) but hearing about things from Cross might.. help a little. ]

He doesn't want to see me.

But you want to see him, don't you? [Man, kid, work on your poker face.] It's really up to you, but you'll have to deal with hit sooner or later.

Kind of. [ he's never had to bother with a poker face since he never loses at poker anyway!! ] I'll see him later.

If that's what you'd like, I won't pressure you.

I appreciate it. Thank you for the pie too.

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