( she doesn't know how she got here. there had been a desire to crawl into the smallest place possible in the horizon--to bury herself in her flowers, as though they could hold back the blistering weight of memories, brought to life; it's an experience that many are having, as of late, and even the mages of solvunn have no idea what is going on. more divining is necessary. and in the meantime, what are they all meant to do? suffer, like this? worry, like this?
the horizon is hardly a place that's safe from the influences, but it's something she learns too late. the stranger she encounters, somehow, in her bid for safety, triggers a sudden shift; the world around her isn't the place she left behind--it materializes into something unknown, a curious building with a curious night sky, cloaking the place in dark and shadows. distantly, from the shape of a window, creaked open, she hears a girl crying: the stranger, whoever he'd been, is nowhere to be found. is she the only person in this place? had he not been taken, as well?
it's only once she gets closer to the house that she sees him--tall, dressed in suitable enough clothes that she doesn't really question the sort of world he must come from. he seems reluctant to enter the house. does he know it, then? a memory of his world, his life?
she didnβt take enough care when extracting the poison, comes a man's voice from inside. it's muffled, despite the window. )
What's inside?
( she asks, softly, as she approaches--she holds both of her hands up, palms empty, as though to show that she comes only as an unfortunate visitor to this realm of dreams and thoughts; she doesn't know how to leave, or what might be in store for them. )
memory 2 (also mutable!)
the horizon is hardly a place that's safe from the influences, but it's something she learns too late. the stranger she encounters, somehow, in her bid for safety, triggers a sudden shift; the world around her isn't the place she left behind--it materializes into something unknown, a curious building with a curious night sky, cloaking the place in dark and shadows. distantly, from the shape of a window, creaked open, she hears a girl crying: the stranger, whoever he'd been, is nowhere to be found. is she the only person in this place? had he not been taken, as well?
it's only once she gets closer to the house that she sees him--tall, dressed in suitable enough clothes that she doesn't really question the sort of world he must come from. he seems reluctant to enter the house. does he know it, then? a memory of his world, his life?
she didnβt take enough care when extracting the poison, comes a man's voice from inside. it's muffled, despite the window. )
What's inside?
( she asks, softly, as she approaches--she holds both of her hands up, palms empty, as though to show that she comes only as an unfortunate visitor to this realm of dreams and thoughts; she doesn't know how to leave, or what might be in store for them. )
Is someone hurt?