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Post by whyemmdee on Nov 15, 2016 12:45:01 GMT -5
The carousel has come around.. and 'round it goes again.
When you play games under the dark of the moon, you must pay the price to join in on the festivities.
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Post by Kaybrie on Nov 15, 2016 13:10:59 GMT -5
Her eyes flip open after a deep, yet dreadful sleep. She watches light filter in through the window for a while, perhaps some hours as she watched the light dim after a time. She would push herself out of bed and leaned over the side, looking down to her hands, those blood-stained hands. A light of thought shined in her eyes for a period before she stood and made her way over to her dresser to gather her equipment for the days trials. The dream slipped effortlessly into the recesses of her mind, though not without a faint whimper;
'Perhaps I am a barbarian...'
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Post by modular on Nov 15, 2016 13:21:25 GMT -5
A grim-faced Doc Emmanuel Horncall is seen stalking the streets, looking for known acquaintances and others who he knows, or heard, had participated in the play under yhe moon, and keeps an ear open for word of plight of others who were involved, including a certain bald-headed elf.
He would make inquiries and begin ato study of those willing to share their experiences.
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Post by Kitsunenotsume on Nov 15, 2016 14:32:08 GMT -5
The morning moonlight streams through the windows of the University, illuminating a porthole behind one and bathing the helm and accompanying suit in a deep cerulean. The figure leans heavily on the sill, weighed upon by a great and intangible burden but stands resolute to watch the long shadows creep among the grounds below.
As the first rays crest the buildings, he returns to his desk and extracts a brass bowl of rice and four sticks of coloured incense. With a flick of his wrist to set the embers smoking, he drives each into the rice with an echoey portent.
"No price without cost, no debt can be bettered;
no choice without fallout, no action unfettered."
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Post by electrohydra on Nov 16, 2016 19:32:49 GMT -5
Hakon awakes with a startle from his sleep, throwing his sheets aside and shouting out a curse, making the wild animal at the foot of the bed jump off in fear. The dwarf thrashes around the room, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, spitting red into a washbucket.
He looks to the badger in the corner, speaking to the animal for lack of anyone else to vent his frustration with. Perhaps for the best. "'ucking wizard. His 'amn vision... he 'id something to me. 'ucking vision. 'UCKING KINGS." He moves to the corner, picking up a lobstered steel gauntlet. "I -hate- mysteries... but 'amn him if he 'inks I ain't going to 'et answers."
A few hours latter, the grumpy dwarf can be seen leaving the Sinkhole even more angry then usual, muttering something about the "wizard's 'urse" and heading towards the Wards.
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Post by AusGre on Nov 16, 2016 23:55:48 GMT -5
What could be said? What desires needed to be released as the dawn broke through? Surrounded in blankets and covered from the coldness that crept in from Calidor's street, the woman remained inside her comfy cove, wrestling with the bitter realization of awakening from a deep slumber. A slumber which felt as if a lifetime had passed, so much stirred inside her mind and the dreamscape that painted the hollow sleep she felt. The chill fought her every inch and ever evening, struggling to pull herself. Yet, she still danced, she still played and won in some regard. Yet, her lack of understanding, could that really be counted as a victory? The three eyed woman, the ashen man and the games of hide and seek. She felt she knew the ashen man, caught upon collar from the man, he watched over her. She felt this, as the king from an age long passed stood behind her. A comfort retained itself, even as fear broke through her night.
Yet, she was rewarded. She was rewarded with an ember, risen inside her, gifted from the woman for answering her cryptic riddles. If she could have touched it, cupped the warm that came from inside her, she would have snatched it away. Bound it by twine and chain, never to release it again. Even though, as the dawn broke, she could not help but weep cold tears. Something she had resolved to not do, never to cry, never to let anything stain her face. She could do nothing but cry, the well of feelings no longer shacked by the bitter wind or frozen lakes inside of her. She felt free, as blossoming flowers in the spring, she could rise without that inability to coax some willingness into her. She wanted to greet the day, behold her friends in the streets below and wane under the touch of those closest to her. She wanted to know it all once more and feel it, before the bone hand of death touched her again, ceasing the warmth and furthering her down the ice path.
" What... Is love?" She asked nobody, a silent muttering to only herself. Unsure of what answer she gave, she tried her best to recall the hazy memory, slowly fading from her grasp. Had the Ashen King given her love or had the woman for granting her this freedom, even if she knew it was fleeting. Was it not cruelty to give something so easy and rip it away forever more? Tears still streamed down her cheeks, as she felt the fear grip her. She wanted to know more, fade back into the other realm and know these people, know the meaning of this all. It all was just so troubling and all she could do was cry.
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