[Boyce falls through a hole near the ceiling, one of the larger creatures to be deposited in the heart of the temple save perhaps the gems that were obviously inhuman to begin with. This gem, crashing through a field of lightly phosphorescent bubbles and onto the steps leading up to the crystal heart, is certainly human in shape, if no longer in hue. He's large, made larger by his heavy woolen sweater and the cap only just now thrown off of his dishevelled, hairy head... but the colour has been drained mostly from his face, and true to the gem now lodged, hidden, against his breastbone, a marbled line of grey and black cross his face from temple to opposite jaw. The rest of him is covered by winter-wear, which luckily has done a little to dampen his fall.
He is not prone to theatrics. Cussing quietly, but shortly, he pushes himself to hands and knees and takes this alien space in with a wary kind of uncertainty, before retrieving his hat and his footing. A silver tint colours his weathered cheekbones: embarrassment for the abrupt entrance, confusion and mortification for this unknown situation.
Usually he doesn't reach out, much. Usually he keeps himself to himself, but this is... too strange.]
What are you? Is this a dream?
[Surely you've summoned him here. He hasn't even caught on that the heart-gem is pulsing gently behind him, enigmatically setting the scene.]
B. Market
[He's had a little bit of time to cope with the massive amount of change he's had to undergo over the course of a couple of weeks. Its a begrudging change: Boyce doesn't like being intruded upon, and he still feels as though some core part of him has been invaded in some horrible way... but given the fact that apparently his life-long problems with lycanthropy are at an end, and that he's spent much of his life wrangling monsters even if he's always felt very strongly for their protection... both are helping him cope.
So is the fact that most of his compatriots share the same fate as he does. It's not a lot, but it's something... and quietly the heart of the temple pulses with its soothing magic. That helps probably more than he knows.
Currently he's avoiding the current of people milling around him at the farmer's market by towering over an eddy of human traffic, admiring some woodwork crafts, trying to look like he belongs. He's asked to have a guide show him the sights as where he's from the cart and buggy have only just been re-invented. He's not familiar with current-day technology so most of this boggles him. It's... embarrassing.]
Jack Boyce [aka Howlite] | OC | ota
[Boyce falls through a hole near the ceiling, one of the larger creatures to be deposited in the heart of the temple save perhaps the gems that were obviously inhuman to begin with. This gem, crashing through a field of lightly phosphorescent bubbles and onto the steps leading up to the crystal heart, is certainly human in shape, if no longer in hue. He's large, made larger by his heavy woolen sweater and the cap only just now thrown off of his dishevelled, hairy head... but the colour has been drained mostly from his face, and true to the gem now lodged, hidden, against his breastbone, a marbled line of grey and black cross his face from temple to opposite jaw. The rest of him is covered by winter-wear, which luckily has done a little to dampen his fall.
He is not prone to theatrics. Cussing quietly, but shortly, he pushes himself to hands and knees and takes this alien space in with a wary kind of uncertainty, before retrieving his hat and his footing. A silver tint colours his weathered cheekbones: embarrassment for the abrupt entrance, confusion and mortification for this unknown situation.
Usually he doesn't reach out, much. Usually he keeps himself to himself, but this is... too strange.]
What are you? Is this a dream?
[Surely you've summoned him here. He hasn't even caught on that the heart-gem is pulsing gently behind him, enigmatically setting the scene.]
B. Market
[He's had a little bit of time to cope with the massive amount of change he's had to undergo over the course of a couple of weeks. Its a begrudging change: Boyce doesn't like being intruded upon, and he still feels as though some core part of him has been invaded in some horrible way... but given the fact that apparently his life-long problems with lycanthropy are at an end, and that he's spent much of his life wrangling monsters even if he's always felt very strongly for their protection... both are helping him cope.
So is the fact that most of his compatriots share the same fate as he does. It's not a lot, but it's something... and quietly the heart of the temple pulses with its soothing magic. That helps probably more than he knows.
Currently he's avoiding the current of people milling around him at the farmer's market by towering over an eddy of human traffic, admiring some woodwork crafts, trying to look like he belongs. He's asked to have a guide show him the sights as where he's from the cart and buggy have only just been re-invented. He's not familiar with current-day technology so most of this boggles him. It's... embarrassing.]
This is nice. What is it... for?
[It's nice, but he has no idea what cribbage is, nor why someone would create a board shaped to resemble a fish to play the game.]