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ULRIK & KIRCHOFF
Each point in space (and time) is associated with a vector that determines what force a moving charge would experience.
Each point in space (and time) is associated with a vector that determines what force a moving charge would experience.
[[This is for the Aurora Basin Birdsong Spars!
- Three posts each
- Try hard to get posts in within one week, no extensions
- Location :: The Aurora Basin, somewhere between the lake and the hotsprings at midday with mild, birdsong weather
]]
The Engineer had heard the commands of his leaders, though that pale one... the mare... well, something about her just did not sit right. Obviously she was of muddy blood, considering that a silver wretch followed her around like a dog (sorry, Kirchoff), but the God of Time had thought her appropriate. He would give her a chance, as he always would. At least this sparring idea was not the word one the Aurora Basin had ever had, so he would put in the effort. To a degree.
When time allowed him, the dark stallion sauntered easily to somewhere in the middle of the Basin. He squinted. How long had he been staring into the belly of metal creatures? The sun was pretty damn bright. He observed his surroundings with all the finesse and power of a genius, finding shapes, numbers and patterns etched in even the bark on the trees. Ulrik was wildly fascinated by the beauty of nature. Nature was the ultimate machine.
In fact, most of nature was far more interesting than his equid counterparts. Most of their trials were dull and petty, unworthy of an utterance otherwise. He even counted himself as a fool for feeling pain of loss at Rikyn's disappearance. Oh, how he longed for his first born son to return, but he could not let such words leave his mouth. The others could not possibly understand, and he would transcend the follies and ties of the mortal into the realm of machines, cause and effect, the universal laws and true understanding.
But, he missed his boy.
Kirchoff, the only-somewhat-loyal companion, had a new found respect for this dolt upon admittance of his feelings. Somewhere deep inside his hairy, dirty body was a good, honest heart, buried under years of shame, torment and being outcasted. He was a genius, of course, and geniuses were often lonesome creatures. The hellhound lightly padded around Ulrik's side, glancing up and waiting. He would help, this time. After all, it was only a spar...
[[(0/3 intro) (words)]]
@[Thranduil]
(Please tag me in every post)
