[In theory I have a private tuition and academic consulting business for college students and postgrads. I say in theory because it's a start-up and (insert loads of tl;dr crap here) life's complicated. You shall still see me every day including patch day though, just possibly quietly screaming a little. (We don't think they're going to destroy the main human city BUT WE ARE NOT SURE.) Also, my partner would like me to extend to you his sincere apologies for this FUCKING WEIRD ASS SYLVARI you are about to meet. He's my partner's creation, kindly on loan for the purposes of this thread.]
The question of why sylvari looked as they did was ultimately a fascinating mystery, one that rather confounded the logic of evolution. It certainly seemed as though they had been designed in keeping with human bodies, which rather begged the question of what mind had designed them. Their own stories held that the intelligence was that of the Pale Tree, which had drawn inspiration from the human grave of Ronan's family on which it grew. But no one had ever proven this for sure.
It simply seemed to make sense. After all, the sylvari had no notion or faith in any god. If the Pale Tree was not responsible for the design of their bodies, then who or what possibly could be? Perhaps seeing how they lived helped explain why none of them seemed terribly troubled over this question. The Tree was all the answer that they needed.
And seemingly no one needed much of an answer about why this cattail-haired sylvari had such a great fascination with touching vine railings either.
"In a manner of speaking," Aurus's eyes went from the passing sylvari to Charles, noting the surprise and perplexity written on his face. He hadn't planned this, but he hadn't really tried to avoid it either. And to his mind there were far worse ways for Charles to meet another member of his race. (Whether Charles would agree with that assessment remained to be seen.)
By now, the stranger had reached the point in the walkway where he turned, reached out to touch the opposite railing, and headed back towards them again. When he passed this time, his fingers reached out higher, brushing right across Aurus’s cheek and through his hair. Aurus didn’t even flinch.
"Hello Aurus," the strange sylvari said sort of absently as he went on his way, as though he’d found the words but was waiting for his mind to settle on their object like a butterfly flitting above a leaf.
Aurus kept his eyes on Charles. "He's my brother."
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The question of why sylvari looked as they did was ultimately a fascinating mystery, one that rather confounded the logic of evolution. It certainly seemed as though they had been designed in keeping with human bodies, which rather begged the question of what mind had designed them. Their own stories held that the intelligence was that of the Pale Tree, which had drawn inspiration from the human grave of Ronan's family on which it grew. But no one had ever proven this for sure.
It simply seemed to make sense. After all, the sylvari had no notion or faith in any god. If the Pale Tree was not responsible for the design of their bodies, then who or what possibly could be? Perhaps seeing how they lived helped explain why none of them seemed terribly troubled over this question. The Tree was all the answer that they needed.
And seemingly no one needed much of an answer about why this cattail-haired sylvari had such a great fascination with touching vine railings either.
"In a manner of speaking," Aurus's eyes went from the passing sylvari to Charles, noting the surprise and perplexity written on his face. He hadn't planned this, but he hadn't really tried to avoid it either. And to his mind there were far worse ways for Charles to meet another member of his race. (Whether Charles would agree with that assessment remained to be seen.)
By now, the stranger had reached the point in the walkway where he turned, reached out to touch the opposite railing, and headed back towards them again. When he passed this time, his fingers reached out higher, brushing right across Aurus’s cheek and through his hair. Aurus didn’t even flinch.
"Hello Aurus," the strange sylvari said sort of absently as he went on his way, as though he’d found the words but was waiting for his mind to settle on their object like a butterfly flitting above a leaf.
Aurus kept his eyes on Charles. "He's my brother."