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Rethe Phonne Vice Captain
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 Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2009 12:04 pm
 Owner of this Journal: Cosmoses Only staff and Cosmoses are allowed to post here.
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 5:47 am
-----------o1 ♦♦♦ navigation ♦♦♦
-------oo. cert
-------o1. navigation
-------o2. timeline
-------o3. song
-------o4. growth
-------o5. guardian
-------o6. levi's records
-------o7. noah's records
-------o8. roleplay
-------o9. arrangements
-------1o. relationships
-------11. album
-------12. possessions
-------13. --
-------14. entry
-------
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:05 am
-----------o2 ♦♦♦ timeline ♦♦♦
------30 August 09 ♦ Noah's Arrival
------26 October 09 ♦ Noah's Birth
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:07 am
-----------o3 ♦♦♦ song ♦♦♦
-------The wind jingles the precious charms hanging over your window or door, the light sound that tends to tickle the ears and gives you a sense of a calm summer day. Even through the heat, the c***k-chime of the wind greets you soon after with a cool breeze to ease the sweaty times.
-------Name: Noah
-------Meaning: Peaceful; comforter; wanderer; Biblical survivor of the 40-day flood
-------Gender: Male
-------D.O.B.: 26 October 2009
-------Sound: Wind Chimes
-------Stage: Birth
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:08 am
-----------o4 ♦♦♦ growth ♦♦♦  Sound Capture:
Requirements from Sound Capture to Birth:
i. Journal Setup.
ii. Discovering your Song.
iii. Three Guardian Entries.
Birth:
Requirements from Birth to Rhythm:
i. Birth Reaction.
ii. Four Guardian Entries.
iii. Two RPs.
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:09 am
-----------o5 ♦♦♦ guardian ♦♦♦
-------Name: Levin Carlill
-------Nickname: Levi
-------Meaning: Heart; joined; dear friend
-------Gender: Male
-------D.O.B.: 10 February 1983
-------Age: 26
-------Ethnicity: Caucasian
-------Appearance: Tousled, white-blonde hair that frames his face like a lion's mane, bromothymol blue eyes, skin that burns easily, long limbs and a broad-shouldered, thin-waisted frame. The overall impression is of a young man still recovering from adolescence.
Wardrobe is simplistic but topped with trinkets; loose tees/tanks and cargo pants, a monkey's teeth necklace from El Salvador vendors who wouldn't take no for an answer (fake... probably), cheap sandals haggled in the leather markets, a collection of wooden bangles of varying widths and colours, a tucked-in necklace blessed by monks of a Thai shrine. He also has a henna-inspired tattoo on his right bicep (sometimes covered by a bandana depending on how likely people are to stare), and another on the nape of his neck just below the hairline that reads, "All poets are mad."
-------Personality: Soft, clumsy and forgetful, easily moved by the lives and stories of others. Personable and sensitive, polytheistic, the type to cry in movies. Loyal, but also a free spirit gripped by the need to keep moving, to experience, and sometimes just to go. As a result, he has a history of leaving things behind - friends, possessions, a little bit of himself - and he's hurt every time. He seems to believe that by living to the fullest, he can erase all his regrets.
-------Background: In a bid to become self-reliant and escape the threat of business school, Levi deferred and took the year abroad in Nepal. Faced with the reality of postcard-worthy ice caps and real live buffalos, it was easy to cast aside the sporadic phone calls from home, as expensive as they were terse. In the end his father died in a Canadian hospital from lung cancer. All the while Levi was coming up with a word to describe the shape of a mountain goat's horn. Afterwards, there was no reason to go back. He fell deeper into writing, not to spite anyone or prove anything, or even because he thought he was particularly good, but because he thought if he didn't discharge his feelings, he might explode.
Since then, Levi has taken to globe-hopping with self-imposed rules; he never returns to a place he's visited, and never stays for long. There have been lonely stretches, but he can't say he's been truly alone. As if some celestial hand has chosen to take pity on its wayward son, Levi has steadily been provided with kind strangers and good Samaritans, and now providence has brought him Noah.
-------Occupation: Poet, but if you're asking how he feeds himself: freelance writing, also supplemented by supermarket shelving and bussing tables at a nearby cafe.
-------Likes: Coffee, food, getting a good deal, shade (which he sometimes creates by wearing ridiculous, wide-brimmed hats), animals, humanity.
-------Dislikes: Schedules, hurting others, monotony, being confined, the past.
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:09 am
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:13 am
-----------o7 ♦♦♦ noah's records ♦♦♦
-------
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:18 am
-----------o8 ♦♦♦ roleplay ♦♦♦
-------Current:
-------Continuous:
-------Complete:
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:19 am
-----------o9 ♦♦♦ arrangements ♦♦♦
-------Living Space:
-------30 August 09 ♦ Levi is homeless. To be more precise, he's between continents, early morning breakfasting on a rickety red-eye. In a few hours he'll be landing in Sydney, and plans (which is to say, there's a vague notion of it in Levi's head) to set up shop in a more disreputable area where the rent is likely to be low. Failing that, youth hostel. He's guessing one month. We'll see how it goes.
-------31 August 09 ♦ Gods of Fate shone once again. Levi safely touched down in Sydney and has holed up on the second floor of a creaky, stairless motel/hotel hybrid. He's also sharing with half a dozen companions of the tiny, multi-legged variety. The window only opens halfway; there's a single bed in the middle of the room, a dresser and little else. The entire dwelling is illuminated by a naked lightbulb.
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:20 am
-----------1o ♦♦♦ relationships ♦♦♦
-------
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:20 am
-----------11 ♦♦♦ album ♦♦♦
-------
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:21 am
-----------12 ♦♦♦ possessions ♦♦♦
-------
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:22 am
-----------13 ♦♦♦ reserved ♦♦♦
-------
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 6:24 am
-----------14 ♦♦♦ entry ♦♦♦
-------Prompt Choice: #2 - You and your teen end up going to the beach for an afternoon of quality time on a rather nice summer day. He/she has been avoiding you for a while and this is your attempt at getting them to open up to you. School and friends seem fine in your kid's life, what more could be bothering them?
-------Prompt Response:
It was the fabled Mediterranean.
Levi had come in search of sun-flecked bricks, window boxes trimmed with cornflowers - some oversaturated, summer landscape like the opening sequence to a movie. And he'd found it. Still, everything seemed to be screaming: the sea, the wind, his heart. Noah may have been, but he was too far away to hear, barefoot and wandering amongst the clumps of kelp.
He'd sprouted. That was the only word for it. Under the sudden warmth of a throttling Italian sun, the boy had shot upwards like Levi initially feared he wouldn't – after all, their meals were more rectangular than square. Though it wasn't so long ago that Levi stowed him in his hand-carry and fussed through customs (it wasn't an egg – okay, so it was an egg-like substance but there were no diseases involved), Noah was now a teenager who came with all the usual hang-ups: new awkwardness when Levi tried to hug him, bouts of temper that blew over as suddenly as they arrived.
Not that Noah had ever been easy to handle. At the water's edge, his back was to Levi, and the tenseness in his shoulders was all too familiar. It was the one he habitually wore before letting the world know how angry he was. But the big, neon sign was the silence. Noah had barely said two words over cereal. More than that, there was none of the slight ringing in his ears that Levi had originally attributed to tinnitus. The absence of sound officially moved the state of affairs into the realm of Not Right.
Levi wiped a palm roughly over his face, catching sweat as he went. Dampness clung to his fingers. He thought, for the thousandth time since this whole mess started, that if he were any more out of his depth, he'd be halfway out to sea. What did he know about being a parent? He was twenty-six and scrawny enough to pass for younger, starting to get too old to be seeking his fortune nevertheless, a nomad with no prospects, and the closest he'd come to female company was in Bristol – he'd smiled and said he was a poet, and she'd kissed him on the mouth.
So maybe when Levi's old man called him a bumbling, useless fool, he wasn't just being a senile a*****e. But Levi was the type to try, and try, and try again. He looked at Noah kicking sand into the ocean, stumbled over, and tried.
“Noah-” His hand was shrugged off straight away, and Levi smiled helplessly, though Noah couldn't see it. “Want to tell me what's eating at you?”
“Why should I, when you never tell me anything?” The retort was instantaneous, and Levi flinched a little. Couldn't help it. Sometimes he wondered if he should resign himself to never recovering from Noah.
“What have I done this time?” Because if there was anything he'd learned from the strange divergence in his life, it was that Noah's problems inevitably made their winding way back to Levi, and it was always going to be his fault. Part of it was – Levi was absurdly attached. He didn't mind admitting it. He'd lost duffels via the airport system, been mugged, left gifts behind at border checks, but even when Noah wasn't much of anything beyond a crystalline sphere that glittered prettily in the light, Levi had been more careful with him than the stamped pages of his passport.
Noah half-turned, eyes still fixed on the waves. The blue veins of his temples leaped into sharp relief, and Levi wasn't deluded enough to think that the sudden chill was the result of a weird flux in the weather. The tones were back, but the customary clinking had been overridden by harsh, inharmonic clangs. Levi had noticed over the years that the boy seemed to change moods with the winds, but he doubted even Noah himself was aware.
“I saw the tickets.”
Of course. Economy class direct to Seoul, the next destination on the road map that was perpetually unfolded in Levi's head. He'd considered Croatia, Adelaide; in the end he'd let their measly finances choose for him. He wasn't so bothered with the where, only that his restless bones would walk right out of his body if he stayed. Already he felt less like a tourist, and Noah had taken to calling their hole-in-the-wall apartment 'home.'
“Noah,” he started, then stopped, looking for the words he had to say. Maybe that was why he'd never had more than a handful of things published. They never came easily when he wanted them. “We're not going,” he said finally, without subtlety or embellishment. He lifted a hand - to touch, to apologise – but clenched it instead, resting it on his mop of hair. The sun beating down and the twinge in his shoulders informed him they'd been out too long; any further and they'd burn for real. “We're not going,” he repeated.
Levi hadn't planned on this exactly, but he'd seen it coming for awhile. Noah had gone and done what Levi's gypsy heart had dreaded – sent down roots into this fertile, glorious land. It should have been an obvious consequence – Levi had never stopped hoping anyway that his wanderlust would rub off. The day Noah returned from school, vibrant and chiming gently, Levi knew his hopes were unfounded. The tickets had already been bought by then.
“I'm sorry I didn't consult with you first,” he offered clumsily. A grown man and he still didn't deal well with complex emotions, preferring to siphon them off into his creativity instead. “Will you talk to me now?”
Noah was still for a moment, before cool eyes softened and his mouth relaxed. “You're turning into a lobster,” he said with the beginnings of a smile, and as he turned from the sea, seemed to leave his anger behind.
“Let's go.”
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