Post by Nightingale on Aug 30, 2006 8:20:14 GMT -5
He had been listening to the water all morning, learning the rhythm of the waves as they splashed onto the shore. The black robes of his monastery pristine as if he had pressed them himself before leaving his room, he had carefully tied the red silk sash around his waist and that, too, was flawless, ends fluttering in the morning breeze.
Reaching one hand up, he shifted to a heel and brought the other arm up to follow it, two birds slowly chasing one another on a current of air. His legs were only trees bending in that same wind, his body the current that connected them all.
The easy dance followed the soft shifting of ocean waves, though not many would still themselves long enough to hear a true rhythm. It was the Buddhist way to do so, however, and as he drew slowly through the graceful kata, he felt as well as heard the water, becoming part of it in his motion.
He heard someone approaching from a distance away but did not stop his movement.
If someone had asked her why she'd chosen to go out to the beach that morning, Angie would have said that she wanted to see if it was as beautiful during the day as it had been at night. Which was true, but she definitely wouldn't have mentioned the incredibly pathetic thought that the beach was where Pyro had actually asked her for a hug, and that she was secretly hoping she'd find him out there again. Definitely Darwin in action when your mutation kicked in, girly.
She was surprised when she emerged out of the overgrown little pathway onto the sand, because she actually did see someone else there. Not Pyro, though, and she kicked herself inwardly for the twinge of disappointment that she felt. What am I, twelve? It was the new recruit, and the tall man was... Well, it looked like he was dancing. She shifted her mittens from her back pocket into the front one and wandered a distance down the beach, sitting on the sand with her legs crossed and watching him out of the corner of her eye. She was curious, but she didn't want to see rude by staring at him, so she looked out to see if she could spot the lighthouse that had been winking away the night before. It was the first time she'd been outside the base during the day, and she was glad to see that it was as beautiful on Genosha as she'd thought in the dark.
"Good morning. Anchi." He stated it plainly, with no tone if disapproval in his voice. His movements slowed bit by bit until he came to rest, palms together. Taking a very deep breath, he exhaled slowly, and looked over his shoulder at her.
She was unsettled. It was written all over her. It was not surprising, this place was not a happy place. Many troubled people walked the halls, slept in their little metal cells. She might be happier in a room of wood and silk. Her thoughts were soft and tender to the touch, again, he could see it on her face.
Turning to step across the sand in his bare feet, he leaned down in a fluid motion and scooped a small handful of sand into the palm of his hand. By the time he reached her the sand had transformed into two small nectarines. He offered one to her.
"Oh, thank you Dharma. I'm sorry, I hope I didn't disturb you." She'd been drawing patterns in the sand with one hand, but she stopped as he offered her the nectarine and wiped her hands together to dislodge any stray grains. Taking a small bite, she was glad to note that it actually was a nectarine, and not sand. And it was a good nectarine, too.
"That's amazing. I was almost expecting it to be gritty." She admitted with a sheepish grin. He hadn't been joking when he'd said that there was no need to provide for him.
"D'you do that every morning?" She still wasn't exactly clear on just what it was he'd been doing, but it had been lovely to watch, even only from the corner of her eye.
He sat crosslegged in the sand nearby, taking a long smell of the nectarine just to enjoy its scent.
"I do. When you sleep, your chi becomes stagnant. It is good to get it moving once more."
He indicated the nectarine, his tone purely inquisitive. "Why would you expect a nectarine to be gritty. Are they where you come from?"
"Oh! No." She smiled, looking at her own nectarine and then picking up a handful of sand. "Just, you know, because it is made from sand."
Even though she knew it was going to end up as a bit of a ramble, she elaborated. "I mean, it is a nectarine, but it is made from sand, so I thought that maybe there was some of the sand still... in... it." She wasn't getting the concept across, but she didn't want to keep trying and just end up looking like a fool. She was trying to describe the essence of the thing, but she wasn't sure that her words would make sense to him anyway. And even though she understood in her head what she meant, it would be like trying to describe how her power worked. Life-force and compatibility made much more sense in her head than when she tried to explain them to people. And sounded less corny there, too.
Dharma's dark eyes caught the morning light, making him look more pleasant than stony. "The nectarine is sand." He reached over slowly, carefully, not wanting to alarm her. His fingers touched the sand she had just picked up. She could feel the sand particles swelling, sticking together, creating the surface of the nectarine, solid and slick where a moment ago it was smooth and loose.
"I do not transform any one thing into another. I only change what form you see. Material life is an illusion." He had learned the words in English to explain these philosophies shortly after leaving China. It had become necessary, as there was little else on which he was likely to speak. Angie had just happened to light on his favourite subject.
"Also what I feel and taste." She smiled, taking another bite of her nectarine and wondering what she should do with the extra one that he'd just made. "What about... What about chickens? You said yesterday that you could make a chicken. How does sand become something that lives and moves and possibly thinks?" She didn't know if chickens thought, she'd never been one. Angie decided that it was best to give them the benefit of the doubt. There wasn't enough of a similarity in life-force between her and chickens to give them her power - in fact, it only worked with Homo sapiens and Homo superior, but that just meant they were different.
"I mean, I suppose... wood moves and lives, but sand is not wood." She frowned, finishing her nectarine as she looked out at the ocean. She hoped that what she was saying made sense to the tall monk. Though that would be a minor miracle - it hardly made sense to her, and she was the one saying it.
"Sand is wood." He shifted, taking a bite of his nectarine and looking out at the water. "Just as you are wood."
"Sentient beings have a soul that is theirs no matter their form. A chicken has a soul." He looked sideways at her only briefly, finishing another bite before speaking again. "This is why I must be careful. I would not change sand into a chicken. A soul would be drawn to it, and I do not have the wisdom to create life where no life existed before."
He was beginning to like this girl. It was not every day he met someone who listened longer than a few moments. She was still wrapped in her own thoughts, but her mind was scattered, undisciplined. He could hardly blame her for that shortcoming, and even if he could, he would not.
"But our souls are different. At least, I think that is what it is." She frowned, then she extended her hand to touch his briefly. There was a small exchange of energies, where she felt that he was perfectly healthy, but some of her energy went into him anyway. Unfortunately, she didn't stop giving even if there was nothing wrong. "My power works through touch. I can give you my energy, my life-force, but I can't give it to a chicken, or to a plant." Or to a dead man. Jane had made sentinent plants. Angie had only touched one by accident, but nothing had happened.
"It only works where there is a compatibility of energies, it only works on people and mutants." Actually, she'd never had the opportunity to touch any of the higher primates, but it hadn't worked on any of the other animals she had touched. Frowning, she came to her conclusion, though it sounded far too simple to her. "So I think that there must be differences." She wondered whether he could make a person into wood, or sand. And what would happen if she touched them in that form.
Dharma sat silently, so still she might have wondered if he'd been there in the first place. But then he closed his eyes and opened them again slowly, letting the ocean speak for him.
Finishing his nectarine, he turned his hand over with the pit in his palm, and pressed it down into the sand. When his hand lifted, no pit remained, only a new gathering of sand that mixed with the others.
"The difference lies in your mind." That was all he intended to say on the matter. It was a bit much to expect her to understand within a few moments what took most individuals years to comprehend, but something in her voice told him she knew more than she'd admit to herself. She was an interesting girl, and he enjoyed her company.
Lifting his fingers where she had touched him, he watched them in silence, that statueque stillness taking him once again.
A frown marred her forehead, the crinkles mirroring the choppiness of the water she was staring at. She wanted to believe him, because that would mean that she could turn it off and on when she wanted. But at the same time, she didn't want to, because it would mean that it was her mind, not her body, that was preventing her from living a normal life, was stopping her from doing the things that she wanted to do.
"Why did you come to the Brotherhood, Dharma?" She looked at him, suddenly intimidated by his statue-like ... well, by the way he was sitting like a statue staring out at the ocean. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking." She'd begun asking herself the same question already - the way that they were fighting still didn't sit quite right with her. But maybe that was just her being too idealistic - she did know that eventually the humans would die off, she just didn't know if she liked the idea of them being the cause for it.
He was wondering if someone would eventually ask the question. Of course it would be her. She had great wisdom buried beneath a great amount of garbage. But she was eager to sort it out for herself.
"It is my path, Anchi." He realized that was too simple an answer for her, and continued after a slow breath. "A war has begun. It reaches farther than Baltimore, farther than Alcatraz. It has been coming for many generations." The hardening of his expression was so subtle, she'd have to have been staring directly at him to notice it.
"We are awakening. We become aware of ourselves more every day. But knowledge often brings fear. The Christians call it sin." He took another slow breath, opening his hand on his knee. A grain of sand on his palm very slowly grew into a seed. The seed shifted into a bud, the bud grew and split open, the white-pink petals of a lotus twisting open in his hand.
"There are those who would kill, control, or subject others. They have always existed, and they will continue to. But there is a balance, Anchi. And that balance must come from somewhere."
The frown deepened as he spoke, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was the humans or the Brotherhood who he was talking about with the killing, controlling, and subjecting others.
She didn't really know how to respond to it all. She wanted to talk to him, wanted to express how she felt about it all, but she didn't know all the words to use, couldn't get her thoughts into order so that they'd make sense when she shared them. The second nectarine was growing warm in her palm, and she bit into it slowly, careful not to lose any of the juice as her teeth pierced through the skin.
Still distracted by her thoughts, the young Australian looked at the flower in his hand with a small smile. "It's pretty. You should talk to Jane sometime." It didn't matter what she was doing or how deeply she was thinking, sometimes Angie was reminded of just how much of a young girl she really was.
Reaching one hand up, he shifted to a heel and brought the other arm up to follow it, two birds slowly chasing one another on a current of air. His legs were only trees bending in that same wind, his body the current that connected them all.
The easy dance followed the soft shifting of ocean waves, though not many would still themselves long enough to hear a true rhythm. It was the Buddhist way to do so, however, and as he drew slowly through the graceful kata, he felt as well as heard the water, becoming part of it in his motion.
He heard someone approaching from a distance away but did not stop his movement.
If someone had asked her why she'd chosen to go out to the beach that morning, Angie would have said that she wanted to see if it was as beautiful during the day as it had been at night. Which was true, but she definitely wouldn't have mentioned the incredibly pathetic thought that the beach was where Pyro had actually asked her for a hug, and that she was secretly hoping she'd find him out there again. Definitely Darwin in action when your mutation kicked in, girly.
She was surprised when she emerged out of the overgrown little pathway onto the sand, because she actually did see someone else there. Not Pyro, though, and she kicked herself inwardly for the twinge of disappointment that she felt. What am I, twelve? It was the new recruit, and the tall man was... Well, it looked like he was dancing. She shifted her mittens from her back pocket into the front one and wandered a distance down the beach, sitting on the sand with her legs crossed and watching him out of the corner of her eye. She was curious, but she didn't want to see rude by staring at him, so she looked out to see if she could spot the lighthouse that had been winking away the night before. It was the first time she'd been outside the base during the day, and she was glad to see that it was as beautiful on Genosha as she'd thought in the dark.
"Good morning. Anchi." He stated it plainly, with no tone if disapproval in his voice. His movements slowed bit by bit until he came to rest, palms together. Taking a very deep breath, he exhaled slowly, and looked over his shoulder at her.
She was unsettled. It was written all over her. It was not surprising, this place was not a happy place. Many troubled people walked the halls, slept in their little metal cells. She might be happier in a room of wood and silk. Her thoughts were soft and tender to the touch, again, he could see it on her face.
Turning to step across the sand in his bare feet, he leaned down in a fluid motion and scooped a small handful of sand into the palm of his hand. By the time he reached her the sand had transformed into two small nectarines. He offered one to her.
"Oh, thank you Dharma. I'm sorry, I hope I didn't disturb you." She'd been drawing patterns in the sand with one hand, but she stopped as he offered her the nectarine and wiped her hands together to dislodge any stray grains. Taking a small bite, she was glad to note that it actually was a nectarine, and not sand. And it was a good nectarine, too.
"That's amazing. I was almost expecting it to be gritty." She admitted with a sheepish grin. He hadn't been joking when he'd said that there was no need to provide for him.
"D'you do that every morning?" She still wasn't exactly clear on just what it was he'd been doing, but it had been lovely to watch, even only from the corner of her eye.
He sat crosslegged in the sand nearby, taking a long smell of the nectarine just to enjoy its scent.
"I do. When you sleep, your chi becomes stagnant. It is good to get it moving once more."
He indicated the nectarine, his tone purely inquisitive. "Why would you expect a nectarine to be gritty. Are they where you come from?"
"Oh! No." She smiled, looking at her own nectarine and then picking up a handful of sand. "Just, you know, because it is made from sand."
Even though she knew it was going to end up as a bit of a ramble, she elaborated. "I mean, it is a nectarine, but it is made from sand, so I thought that maybe there was some of the sand still... in... it." She wasn't getting the concept across, but she didn't want to keep trying and just end up looking like a fool. She was trying to describe the essence of the thing, but she wasn't sure that her words would make sense to him anyway. And even though she understood in her head what she meant, it would be like trying to describe how her power worked. Life-force and compatibility made much more sense in her head than when she tried to explain them to people. And sounded less corny there, too.
Dharma's dark eyes caught the morning light, making him look more pleasant than stony. "The nectarine is sand." He reached over slowly, carefully, not wanting to alarm her. His fingers touched the sand she had just picked up. She could feel the sand particles swelling, sticking together, creating the surface of the nectarine, solid and slick where a moment ago it was smooth and loose.
"I do not transform any one thing into another. I only change what form you see. Material life is an illusion." He had learned the words in English to explain these philosophies shortly after leaving China. It had become necessary, as there was little else on which he was likely to speak. Angie had just happened to light on his favourite subject.
"Also what I feel and taste." She smiled, taking another bite of her nectarine and wondering what she should do with the extra one that he'd just made. "What about... What about chickens? You said yesterday that you could make a chicken. How does sand become something that lives and moves and possibly thinks?" She didn't know if chickens thought, she'd never been one. Angie decided that it was best to give them the benefit of the doubt. There wasn't enough of a similarity in life-force between her and chickens to give them her power - in fact, it only worked with Homo sapiens and Homo superior, but that just meant they were different.
"I mean, I suppose... wood moves and lives, but sand is not wood." She frowned, finishing her nectarine as she looked out at the ocean. She hoped that what she was saying made sense to the tall monk. Though that would be a minor miracle - it hardly made sense to her, and she was the one saying it.
"Sand is wood." He shifted, taking a bite of his nectarine and looking out at the water. "Just as you are wood."
"Sentient beings have a soul that is theirs no matter their form. A chicken has a soul." He looked sideways at her only briefly, finishing another bite before speaking again. "This is why I must be careful. I would not change sand into a chicken. A soul would be drawn to it, and I do not have the wisdom to create life where no life existed before."
He was beginning to like this girl. It was not every day he met someone who listened longer than a few moments. She was still wrapped in her own thoughts, but her mind was scattered, undisciplined. He could hardly blame her for that shortcoming, and even if he could, he would not.
"But our souls are different. At least, I think that is what it is." She frowned, then she extended her hand to touch his briefly. There was a small exchange of energies, where she felt that he was perfectly healthy, but some of her energy went into him anyway. Unfortunately, she didn't stop giving even if there was nothing wrong. "My power works through touch. I can give you my energy, my life-force, but I can't give it to a chicken, or to a plant." Or to a dead man. Jane had made sentinent plants. Angie had only touched one by accident, but nothing had happened.
"It only works where there is a compatibility of energies, it only works on people and mutants." Actually, she'd never had the opportunity to touch any of the higher primates, but it hadn't worked on any of the other animals she had touched. Frowning, she came to her conclusion, though it sounded far too simple to her. "So I think that there must be differences." She wondered whether he could make a person into wood, or sand. And what would happen if she touched them in that form.
Dharma sat silently, so still she might have wondered if he'd been there in the first place. But then he closed his eyes and opened them again slowly, letting the ocean speak for him.
Finishing his nectarine, he turned his hand over with the pit in his palm, and pressed it down into the sand. When his hand lifted, no pit remained, only a new gathering of sand that mixed with the others.
"The difference lies in your mind." That was all he intended to say on the matter. It was a bit much to expect her to understand within a few moments what took most individuals years to comprehend, but something in her voice told him she knew more than she'd admit to herself. She was an interesting girl, and he enjoyed her company.
Lifting his fingers where she had touched him, he watched them in silence, that statueque stillness taking him once again.
A frown marred her forehead, the crinkles mirroring the choppiness of the water she was staring at. She wanted to believe him, because that would mean that she could turn it off and on when she wanted. But at the same time, she didn't want to, because it would mean that it was her mind, not her body, that was preventing her from living a normal life, was stopping her from doing the things that she wanted to do.
"Why did you come to the Brotherhood, Dharma?" She looked at him, suddenly intimidated by his statue-like ... well, by the way he was sitting like a statue staring out at the ocean. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking." She'd begun asking herself the same question already - the way that they were fighting still didn't sit quite right with her. But maybe that was just her being too idealistic - she did know that eventually the humans would die off, she just didn't know if she liked the idea of them being the cause for it.
He was wondering if someone would eventually ask the question. Of course it would be her. She had great wisdom buried beneath a great amount of garbage. But she was eager to sort it out for herself.
"It is my path, Anchi." He realized that was too simple an answer for her, and continued after a slow breath. "A war has begun. It reaches farther than Baltimore, farther than Alcatraz. It has been coming for many generations." The hardening of his expression was so subtle, she'd have to have been staring directly at him to notice it.
"We are awakening. We become aware of ourselves more every day. But knowledge often brings fear. The Christians call it sin." He took another slow breath, opening his hand on his knee. A grain of sand on his palm very slowly grew into a seed. The seed shifted into a bud, the bud grew and split open, the white-pink petals of a lotus twisting open in his hand.
"There are those who would kill, control, or subject others. They have always existed, and they will continue to. But there is a balance, Anchi. And that balance must come from somewhere."
The frown deepened as he spoke, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was the humans or the Brotherhood who he was talking about with the killing, controlling, and subjecting others.
She didn't really know how to respond to it all. She wanted to talk to him, wanted to express how she felt about it all, but she didn't know all the words to use, couldn't get her thoughts into order so that they'd make sense when she shared them. The second nectarine was growing warm in her palm, and she bit into it slowly, careful not to lose any of the juice as her teeth pierced through the skin.
Still distracted by her thoughts, the young Australian looked at the flower in his hand with a small smile. "It's pretty. You should talk to Jane sometime." It didn't matter what she was doing or how deeply she was thinking, sometimes Angie was reminded of just how much of a young girl she really was.