The twins decide they wish to explore the rest of the keep for a bit, since they plan on staying for some time at least. Noctis has fun jumping into shadows and appearing from shadows elsewhere in the Keep while Leo walks around like normal.
The Keep is large and expansive and the architecture does not always make the most logical sense. You come across a room filled with rug. The floor is a magnificent Persian carpet woven with priceless fabrics and covered in intricate patterns and designs. This carpet is massive and fills most of the floor. It seems almost sacrilegious to walk on such a priceless work of art. The walls are covered in tapestries and paintings and there is some fine furniture around the edges of the room, but these seem more like ornaments carefully placed to draw even more attention to the carpets splendor.
Noctis would go and touch the carpet with his shadowy hand as Leo whispers out. “Nocs, I don’t think you should touch that….”
He feels that it is incredibly soft, yet thick and strong. It would take a mighty hand to damage this rug. The only other door in the room is in the other side of the hall.
"Come on, lets see what's through this door?" Noctis says as he darts over to the door. "Are you sure, I wouldn't want to ruin the nice carpet...." Leo says nervously as he looks down at floor. "It will be fine, you keep yourself well groomed so I doubt you would track anything anyways." The shadow twin says before he goes and opens the door. Leo sighs at Noctis's insistence, but takes a deep breath before gingerly tip toeing across the carpet on his four hooves.
*I was going to respond to the rest of y'all's posts but then I got a tornado warning and I fell asleep on the stone floor of the basement. I'm really sore now.*
The carpet is perfectly smooth and soft as you cross the room. Your eyes are drawn to the intricate patterns and designs, knots of golden thread twisting abstract forms in gloriously complex symbols. Then, right before you take a step, you notice a small imperfection in the carpet's weaving. A place where the pattern is twisted and does not match up. A small hole. You don't have time to stop yourself though and Leo steps on the imperfection. You feel your foot slide deep into the carpet. The smooth surface brushes your leg as it is swallowed into the unimaginably deep hole. You stumble and slip even more into the hole, and your foot feels like it is in a perpetual free fall.
Leo yelps as he tries not to fall deeper and grab onto the carpet to pull himself out. Noctis shrieks in alarm before zipping over and grabbing his brother to pull him up and out of the hole.
“Experience comes with age.” He says and he pinches up the blood mud, rolling it up in his fingers. “I admire your outlook. It is very unique among the elves.”
He finally takes the last splinter out of his hand, "It is only a matter of time until one of us were different from the rest. How old are you?" He says going back to sharpening the blade.
“Increasingly ancient,” he answers vaguely. “I have been around as long harvests and ghost stories and red leaves have been.” He begins to pinch and prod the ball of mud blood, giving it shape and form. The tips of his fingers become stained rust red.
He smiles widely, genuine and bright “I suppose it was rude of me to ask another their age. It doesn’t matter regardless, you are most likely centuries over myself in age. What are you making there?” He looks to the blood tinted mud as it takes form.
He begins to smooth autumn leaves from his beard to the round clay form. Then he fans out the leaves around the sides and the back of the clay figure. He sticks to small sticks under it and you suddenly realize that he has made a bird. It perches on his finger and twitters and twitches about, full of life. Its stick feet don’t look like twigs, they look like real bird talons coved in bark. It rustles its orange and red leaf feathers and flaps up into the air, circling around above your head.
He begins to rub his hands through his own scruffy unkempt beard in contemplation "That is powerful magic, fitting to be had by a powerful sovereign such as yourself. Although I do not consider myself to be a citizen of this realm you have built, I can respect the power and grit it takes to be a good king." He watches the bird, the slight smile returning to his expression once more.
"I try," He says simply, and he gently moves his wrist upward, causing the bird to flutter into the air. It swoops and soars around the hill but it always seems to come back to flutter above your head. "This bird is made of your blood. It will feel a strong bond of connection to you and will always know where you are. I doubt it will be willing to exist apart from you."
"Come on, lets see what's through this door?" Noctis says as he darts over to the door. "Are you sure, I wouldn't want to ruin the nice carpet...." Leo says nervously as he looks down at floor. "It will be fine, you keep yourself well groomed so I doubt you would track anything anyways." The shadow twin says before he goes and opens the door. Leo sighs at Noctis's insistence, but takes a deep breath before gingerly tip toeing across the carpet on his four hooves.
*I was going to respond to the rest of y'all's posts but then I got a tornado warning and I fell asleep on the stone floor of the basement. I'm really sore now.*
The carpet is perfectly smooth and soft as you cross the room. Your eyes are drawn to the intricate patterns and designs, knots of golden thread twisting abstract forms in gloriously complex symbols. Then, right before you take a step, you notice a small imperfection in the carpet's weaving. A place where the pattern is twisted and does not match up. A small hole. You don't have time to stop yourself though and Leo steps on the imperfection. You feel your foot slide deep into the carpet. The smooth surface brushes your leg as it is swallowed into the unimaginably deep hole. You stumble and slip even more into the hole, and your foot feels like it is in a perpetual free fall.
Leo yelps as he tries not to fall deeper and grab onto the carpet to pull himself out. Noctis shrieks in alarm before zipping over and grabbing his brother to pull him up and out of the hole.
It takes a little bit of effort, but the two of you manage to pull yourself out of the hole. When you look back at it, you notice the imperfection continues to be just a small poorly tied not in the carpet's weaving.
"Oh my," says a voice from the other side of the room, "It seems you found the Persian flaw."
Helianth suddenly fixates all its attention on the Librarian after hearing what he said. "Marvelous! Where would this Spelljammer be? Can you show me on a map?"
*Sorry, I've been incredibly slow.*
"A map?" He mulls this over, "Yes, I do believe I have one. Give me one moment, I'll retrieve it." He does not move from where he is standing. Instead he looks you over. "Your sort do not often peruse my collection."
*It's all good. Take as much time as you need. :)*
"My sort don't often get this far along in their plans. I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't as determined to accomplish my goal as I am." Helianth looks the Librarian over in turn.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Come on, lets see what's through this door?" Noctis says as he darts over to the door. "Are you sure, I wouldn't want to ruin the nice carpet...." Leo says nervously as he looks down at floor. "It will be fine, you keep yourself well groomed so I doubt you would track anything anyways." The shadow twin says before he goes and opens the door. Leo sighs at Noctis's insistence, but takes a deep breath before gingerly tip toeing across the carpet on his four hooves.
*I was going to respond to the rest of y'all's posts but then I got a tornado warning and I fell asleep on the stone floor of the basement. I'm really sore now.*
The carpet is perfectly smooth and soft as you cross the room. Your eyes are drawn to the intricate patterns and designs, knots of golden thread twisting abstract forms in gloriously complex symbols. Then, right before you take a step, you notice a small imperfection in the carpet's weaving. A place where the pattern is twisted and does not match up. A small hole. You don't have time to stop yourself though and Leo steps on the imperfection. You feel your foot slide deep into the carpet. The smooth surface brushes your leg as it is swallowed into the unimaginably deep hole. You stumble and slip even more into the hole, and your foot feels like it is in a perpetual free fall.
Leo yelps as he tries not to fall deeper and grab onto the carpet to pull himself out. Noctis shrieks in alarm before zipping over and grabbing his brother to pull him up and out of the hole.
It takes a little bit of effort, but the two of you manage to pull yourself out of the hole. When you look back at it, you notice the imperfection continues to be just a small poorly tied not in the carpet's weaving.
"Oh my," says a voice from the other side of the room, "It seems you found the Persian flaw."
The two turn around quickly towards the voice, having not expected anyone else to be there.
“Experience comes with age.” He says and he pinches up the blood mud, rolling it up in his fingers. “I admire your outlook. It is very unique among the elves.”
He finally takes the last splinter out of his hand, "It is only a matter of time until one of us were different from the rest. How old are you?" He says going back to sharpening the blade.
“Increasingly ancient,” he answers vaguely. “I have been around as long harvests and ghost stories and red leaves have been.” He begins to pinch and prod the ball of mud blood, giving it shape and form. The tips of his fingers become stained rust red.
He smiles widely, genuine and bright “I suppose it was rude of me to ask another their age. It doesn’t matter regardless, you are most likely centuries over myself in age. What are you making there?” He looks to the blood tinted mud as it takes form.
He begins to smooth autumn leaves from his beard to the round clay form. Then he fans out the leaves around the sides and the back of the clay figure. He sticks to small sticks under it and you suddenly realize that he has made a bird. It perches on his finger and twitters and twitches about, full of life. Its stick feet don’t look like twigs, they look like real bird talons coved in bark. It rustles its orange and red leaf feathers and flaps up into the air, circling around above your head.
He begins to rub his hands through his own scruffy unkempt beard in contemplation "That is powerful magic, fitting to be had by a powerful sovereign such as yourself. Although I do not consider myself to be a citizen of this realm you have built, I can respect the power and grit it takes to be a good king." He watches the bird, the slight smile returning to his expression once more.
"I try," He says simply, and he gently moves his wrist upward, causing the bird to flutter into the air. It swoops and soars around the hill but it always seems to come back to flutter above your head. "This bird is made of your blood. It will feel a strong bond of connection to you and will always know where you are. I doubt it will be willing to exist apart from you."
He reaches up an arm to the bird, letting the bird rest upon it "I thank you for this, the cabin is quite lonely at times, having a companion would not be the worst thing." He looks to the sky and sighs, the cold air making his breaths visible "I may have to retire in the next century at this rate, my bones giving up on me with every passing day."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*It's all good. Take as much time as you need. :)*
"My sort don't often get this far along in their plans. I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't as determined to accomplish my goal as I am." Helianth looks the Librarian over in turn.
*Oops, missed this. Thanks.*
The candlelight reflects off his glasses, glazing them over so that you can't seem to see them. You do notice a strange sort of movement behind the right one. "I encourage you to come to this library for the mere purpose of exploration. It is a useful tool, but it is much more than that."
"Come on, lets see what's through this door?" Noctis says as he darts over to the door. "Are you sure, I wouldn't want to ruin the nice carpet...." Leo says nervously as he looks down at floor. "It will be fine, you keep yourself well groomed so I doubt you would track anything anyways." The shadow twin says before he goes and opens the door. Leo sighs at Noctis's insistence, but takes a deep breath before gingerly tip toeing across the carpet on his four hooves.
*I was going to respond to the rest of y'all's posts but then I got a tornado warning and I fell asleep on the stone floor of the basement. I'm really sore now.*
The carpet is perfectly smooth and soft as you cross the room. Your eyes are drawn to the intricate patterns and designs, knots of golden thread twisting abstract forms in gloriously complex symbols. Then, right before you take a step, you notice a small imperfection in the carpet's weaving. A place where the pattern is twisted and does not match up. A small hole. You don't have time to stop yourself though and Leo steps on the imperfection. You feel your foot slide deep into the carpet. The smooth surface brushes your leg as it is swallowed into the unimaginably deep hole. You stumble and slip even more into the hole, and your foot feels like it is in a perpetual free fall.
Leo yelps as he tries not to fall deeper and grab onto the carpet to pull himself out. Noctis shrieks in alarm before zipping over and grabbing his brother to pull him up and out of the hole.
It takes a little bit of effort, but the two of you manage to pull yourself out of the hole. When you look back at it, you notice the imperfection continues to be just a small poorly tied not in the carpet's weaving.
"Oh my," says a voice from the other side of the room, "It seems you found the Persian flaw."
The two turn around quickly towards the voice, having not expected anyone else to be there.
The golden head of an automaton rabbit is poking in through a door. His eyes are wide and round and amber. He steps out and you notice he is a lot taller and sleeker than you initially realized. His entire body is made of clockwork covered by an intricately designed and ornamental cover of golden metal. A small pocket watch ticks over his heart. "Intentional imperfection." He says with no explanation, "to instill humility."
"I try," He says simply, and he gently moves his wrist upward, causing the bird to flutter into the air. It swoops and soars around the hill but it always seems to come back to flutter above your head. "This bird is made of your blood. It will feel a strong bond of connection to you and will always know where you are. I doubt it will be willing to exist apart from you."
He reaches up an arm to the bird, letting the bird rest upon it "I thank you for this, the cabin is quite lonely at times, having a companion would not be the worst thing." He looks to the sky and sighs, the cold air making his breaths visible "I may have to retire in the next century at this rate, my bones giving up on me with every passing day."
"The Autumn Country is a wonderful place for the aged." He says, "Today it's still strong and young, but soon... soon you will see the old." His candle flicker eyes watch you, "Don't go out unspent."
*It's all good. Take as much time as you need. :)*
"My sort don't often get this far along in their plans. I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't as determined to accomplish my goal as I am." Helianth looks the Librarian over in turn.
*Oops, missed this. Thanks.*
The candlelight reflects off his glasses, glazing them over so that you can't seem to see them. You do notice a strange sort of movement behind the right one. "I encourage you to come to this library for the mere purpose of exploration. It is a useful tool, but it is much more than that."
*No problem. Is that candle the one with the bit of Frenzied Flame?*
Helianth is silent for a little while, seemingly thinking of something. "I shall keep that in mind." One of its flower heads looks to the candle- even now, its hunger for the light knows no bounds.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*November. No way autumn is actually my favorite time of year, although down here we don't really get the leaves changing colors :( . May or may not join. I do have a lot of school but will try! excellent job Dark!*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hey hey hey. I'm not on much. I wouldn't call myself an OG, but I was here when the OGs were. Basically a relic of the past by this point, I doubt anyone remembers me, except a few people. I Treaded the Threads a bit too much and went missing for almost 2 years, and popped in only occasionally. This might be dead, but HAIL JEFF THE EVIL ROOMBA!!!
*It's all good. Take as much time as you need. :)*
"My sort don't often get this far along in their plans. I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't as determined to accomplish my goal as I am." Helianth looks the Librarian over in turn.
*Oops, missed this. Thanks.*
The candlelight reflects off his glasses, glazing them over so that you can't seem to see them. You do notice a strange sort of movement behind the right one. "I encourage you to come to this library for the mere purpose of exploration. It is a useful tool, but it is much more than that."
*No problem. Is that candle the one with the bit of Frenzied Flame?*
Helianth is silent for a little while, seemingly thinking of something. "I shall keep that in mind." One of its flower heads looks to the candle- even now, its hunger for the light knows no bounds.
*No, this place is just lit by candlelight. That remnant of the Frenzied Flame is stored somewhere protected and deeper in the library.*
You hear the flap of small wings and the rustle of paper. Then the small songbird you notice before appears clutching and rolled up scroll in its tiny talons. It drops the scroll in the Librarian's hands and lands on his shoulder. He then extends the scroll towards you without even opening it. "This is it." He says simply, "Be warned though, others might have taken up residence in the ruins. Or perhaps there may be a remnant of whatever flew it before."
"I try," He says simply, and he gently moves his wrist upward, causing the bird to flutter into the air. It swoops and soars around the hill but it always seems to come back to flutter above your head. "This bird is made of your blood. It will feel a strong bond of connection to you and will always know where you are. I doubt it will be willing to exist apart from you."
He reaches up an arm to the bird, letting the bird rest upon it "I thank you for this, the cabin is quite lonely at times, having a companion would not be the worst thing." He looks to the sky and sighs, the cold air making his breaths visible "I may have to retire in the next century at this rate, my bones giving up on me with every passing day."
"The Autumn Country is a wonderful place for the aged." He says, "Today it's still strong and young, but soon... soon you will see the old." His candle flicker eyes watch you, "Don't go out unspent."
He nods and sighs once more, petting his new found pet "That I have learned long ago. Thank you for this talk your highness, it is not often I get to speak with someone who understands. Goodbye." He picks the tree back up with one hand and walks off.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Dyscharist is animating piles of leaves to act as servants for him, tracking down whatever they can find that won't be missed. Rusty nails, litter, broken glass, rusty fish hooks, and an inordinate amount of rotting foxes, which raises some concern from Dyscharist himself.
Egregore is lazing about the Keep, all the candles replaced and... is that a cigar machine? Did he install a cigar dispenser into the Keep?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*It's all good. Take as much time as you need. :)*
"My sort don't often get this far along in their plans. I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't as determined to accomplish my goal as I am." Helianth looks the Librarian over in turn.
*Oops, missed this. Thanks.*
The candlelight reflects off his glasses, glazing them over so that you can't seem to see them. You do notice a strange sort of movement behind the right one. "I encourage you to come to this library for the mere purpose of exploration. It is a useful tool, but it is much more than that."
*No problem. Is that candle the one with the bit of Frenzied Flame?*
Helianth is silent for a little while, seemingly thinking of something. "I shall keep that in mind." One of its flower heads looks to the candle- even now, its hunger for the light knows no bounds.
*No, this place is just lit by candlelight. That remnant of the Frenzied Flame is stored somewhere protected and deeper in the library.*
You hear the flap of small wings and the rustle of paper. Then the small songbird you notice before appears clutching and rolled up scroll in its tiny talons. It drops the scroll in the Librarian's hands and lands on his shoulder. He then extends the scroll towards you without even opening it. "This is it." He says simply, "Be warned though, others might have taken up residence in the ruins. Or perhaps there may be a remnant of whatever flew it before."
Helianth takes the scroll in its twisting roots. "Thank you very much. I will remember to visit this place again once I have found what I seek."
With that, the crooked sunflower slithers out of the room and leaves the Library... though, as it leaves, the Librarian can faintly feel a familiar presence leaving alongside it. Deep within Helianth's being, drowning in nothingness yet still faintly there enough to cry out in silent anguish... is the Frenzied Flame. Of course, the candle is still safe and secure in its chamber, but the source... that crooked devourer of light carries it with them.
Egregore is lazing about the Keep, all the candles replaced and... is that a cigar machine? Did he install a cigar dispenser into the Keep?
Upon a horse rides in the Jester, playing the lute all the way, because there is no way he could trip into a muddy puddle a third time righ- oh it happened again.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Egregore is lazing about the Keep, all the candles replaced and... is that a cigar machine? Did he install a cigar dispenser into the Keep?
Upon a horse rides in the Jester, playing the lute all the way, because there is no way he could trip into a muddy puddle a third time righ- oh it happened again.
A large, floating hand picks him up and shakes the mud off him. The Egregore leans against a nearby wall. "Nice entrance."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Egregore is lazing about the Keep, all the candles replaced and... is that a cigar machine? Did he install a cigar dispenser into the Keep?
Upon a horse rides in the Jester, playing the lute all the way, because there is no way he could trip into a muddy puddle a third time righ- oh it happened again.
A large, floating hand picks him up and shakes the mud off him. The Egregore leans against a nearby wall. "Nice entrance."
He chuckles and re-adusts his mask "You don't have to point it out like that." He leaves his horse just outside the Keep and walks inside.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Egregore is lazing about the Keep, all the candles replaced and... is that a cigar machine? Did he install a cigar dispenser into the Keep?
Upon a horse rides in the Jester, playing the lute all the way, because there is no way he could trip into a muddy puddle a third time righ- oh it happened again.
A large, floating hand picks him up and shakes the mud off him. The Egregore leans against a nearby wall. "Nice entrance."
He chuckles and re-adusts his mask "You don't have to point it out like that." He leaves his horse just outside the Keep and walks inside.
"Maybe. Want a cigar?" He slams his fist into the machine, and a cigar rolls out. It looks expensive. The machine looks like it endures this abuse on an hourly basis.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I try," He says simply, and he gently moves his wrist upward, causing the bird to flutter into the air. It swoops and soars around the hill but it always seems to come back to flutter above your head. "This bird is made of your blood. It will feel a strong bond of connection to you and will always know where you are. I doubt it will be willing to exist apart from you."
He reaches up an arm to the bird, letting the bird rest upon it "I thank you for this, the cabin is quite lonely at times, having a companion would not be the worst thing." He looks to the sky and sighs, the cold air making his breaths visible "I may have to retire in the next century at this rate, my bones giving up on me with every passing day."
"The Autumn Country is a wonderful place for the aged." He says, "Today it's still strong and young, but soon... soon you will see the old." His candle flicker eyes watch you, "Don't go out unspent."
He nods and sighs once more, petting his new found pet "That I have learned long ago. Thank you for this talk your highness, it is not often I get to speak with someone who understands. Goodbye." He picks the tree back up with one hand and walks off.
"Farewell," says the King quietly and he goes back to drawing flying geese. The autumn blood bird follows after you.
Leo yelps as he tries not to fall deeper and grab onto the carpet to pull himself out. Noctis shrieks in alarm before zipping over and grabbing his brother to pull him up and out of the hole.
"I try," He says simply, and he gently moves his wrist upward, causing the bird to flutter into the air. It swoops and soars around the hill but it always seems to come back to flutter above your head. "This bird is made of your blood. It will feel a strong bond of connection to you and will always know where you are. I doubt it will be willing to exist apart from you."
It takes a little bit of effort, but the two of you manage to pull yourself out of the hole. When you look back at it, you notice the imperfection continues to be just a small poorly tied not in the carpet's weaving.
"Oh my," says a voice from the other side of the room, "It seems you found the Persian flaw."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The two turn around quickly towards the voice, having not expected anyone else to be there.
He reaches up an arm to the bird, letting the bird rest upon it "I thank you for this, the cabin is quite lonely at times, having a companion would not be the worst thing." He looks to the sky and sighs, the cold air making his breaths visible "I may have to retire in the next century at this rate, my bones giving up on me with every passing day."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Oops, missed this. Thanks.*
The candlelight reflects off his glasses, glazing them over so that you can't seem to see them. You do notice a strange sort of movement behind the right one. "I encourage you to come to this library for the mere purpose of exploration. It is a useful tool, but it is much more than that."
The golden head of an automaton rabbit is poking in through a door. His eyes are wide and round and amber. He steps out and you notice he is a lot taller and sleeker than you initially realized. His entire body is made of clockwork covered by an intricately designed and ornamental cover of golden metal. A small pocket watch ticks over his heart. "Intentional imperfection." He says with no explanation, "to instill humility."
"The Autumn Country is a wonderful place for the aged." He says, "Today it's still strong and young, but soon... soon you will see the old." His candle flicker eyes watch you, "Don't go out unspent."
*No problem. Is that candle the one with the bit of Frenzied Flame?*
Helianth is silent for a little while, seemingly thinking of something. "I shall keep that in mind." One of its flower heads looks to the candle- even now, its hunger for the light knows no bounds.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*November. No way autumn is actually my favorite time of year, although down here we don't really get the leaves changing colors :( . May or may not join. I do have a lot of school but will try! excellent job Dark!*
Hey hey hey. I'm not on much. I wouldn't call myself an OG, but I was here when the OGs were. Basically a relic of the past by this point, I doubt anyone remembers me, except a few people. I Treaded the Threads a bit too much and went missing for almost 2 years, and popped in only occasionally. This might be dead, but HAIL JEFF THE EVIL ROOMBA!!!
And in the words of the Immortal Yak: "Pluh".
*No, this place is just lit by candlelight. That remnant of the Frenzied Flame is stored somewhere protected and deeper in the library.*
You hear the flap of small wings and the rustle of paper. Then the small songbird you notice before appears clutching and rolled up scroll in its tiny talons. It drops the scroll in the Librarian's hands and lands on his shoulder. He then extends the scroll towards you without even opening it. "This is it." He says simply, "Be warned though, others might have taken up residence in the ruins. Or perhaps there may be a remnant of whatever flew it before."
He nods and sighs once more, petting his new found pet "That I have learned long ago. Thank you for this talk your highness, it is not often I get to speak with someone who understands. Goodbye." He picks the tree back up with one hand and walks off.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Felix is distilling sunlight.
Dyscharist is animating piles of leaves to act as servants for him, tracking down whatever they can find that won't be missed. Rusty nails, litter, broken glass, rusty fish hooks, and an inordinate amount of rotting foxes, which raises some concern from Dyscharist himself.
Egregore is lazing about the Keep, all the candles replaced and... is that a cigar machine? Did he install a cigar dispenser into the Keep?
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Helianth takes the scroll in its twisting roots. "Thank you very much. I will remember to visit this place again once I have found what I seek."
With that, the crooked sunflower slithers out of the room and leaves the Library... though, as it leaves, the Librarian can faintly feel a familiar presence leaving alongside it. Deep within Helianth's being, drowning in nothingness yet still faintly there enough to cry out in silent anguish... is the Frenzied Flame. Of course, the candle is still safe and secure in its chamber, but the source... that crooked devourer of light carries it with them.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Upon a horse rides in the Jester, playing the lute all the way, because there is no way he could trip into a muddy puddle a third time righ- oh it happened again.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
A large, floating hand picks him up and shakes the mud off him. The Egregore leans against a nearby wall. "Nice entrance."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He chuckles and re-adusts his mask "You don't have to point it out like that." He leaves his horse just outside the Keep and walks inside.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"Maybe. Want a cigar?" He slams his fist into the machine, and a cigar rolls out. It looks expensive. The machine looks like it endures this abuse on an hourly basis.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Farewell," says the King quietly and he goes back to drawing flying geese. The autumn blood bird follows after you.