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Found 3 results

  1. Week One Perses woke with a start. How long had he been out? Immediately, Perses tapped hearingsense. It was empty. Rusts rusts rusts rusts. Perses' heartbeat spiked, his heart pounding, his breath frantic. Feeling around, he reached for the wall. He was met with a smooth surface, which felt odd and waxy. Knocking his fist on it, it made a glassy twang. His breathing slowed. He traced his hand around the room, feeling for the door. Opening the door, he felt the other side of the door. Waxy, glass. Good. Closing the door, he sank to the floor. Trying to control his heart rate, he laid there. He was safe. Perses had only been trapped in Wickwillow Manor for a few weeks, but it felt like an eternity. He always had difficulty telling the time, but it was near impossible within this manor. There was an occasional wind that blew through the manor, but each time he sought it out, the winds disappeared. He was convinced at this point that the manor wanted him to be trapped. He had hoped someone would have come and rescued him, but he had all but given up on that by now. Harmony, he was so lonely. His stomach panged in hunger. It was natural, of course. His rations were nearly out, and he would need to go out exploring once more. However, he first had to restore his senseminds. Sitting in this room of mirrors, he should be safe from the creatures that lurked in the shadows. With a shaky exhale, he stored his senses. Everything went dark. He was used to darkness, in some way. Perses had been blind his whole life. For most of his life, he saw it as a curse. Had he just been born with sight, he would have been seen as useful to others. Instead, his life had been one of constant struggle, trying to prove to others that he was worth something. He was a better shot than most, and had more awareness than anyone around him, and almost never got snuck up on. But the mere fact that he couldn't see is what stifled his chances. And could he see now, he wouldn't be here. Trapped in a constantly morphing, maze-like manor, being hunted by creatures that could make no sound, and could be anywhere at any time. However, their one fear was mirrors, and seeing their own reflection. The one thing that Perses could never see. These were the sort of things he thought about as he stored his senses. While storing, he couldn't hear anything, smell anything, or feel his surroundings. He couldn't even hear his heartbeat. He was cut off from the world, with only his thoughts to keep him company. At least his hunger pains went away. He couldn't hide them forever, as he needed the reminder. But for now, he needed it stored. Sadly, he would run out of painminds at some point, and would have to either tap them or find more bronze. He hadn't found anything pure enough to use, but he still had hope. Frankly, it was all he had.
  2. Verity Warren sat in her chair by the fireplace and felt herself getting older. It was a subtle, creeping thing - a poison working slowly through her body, killing her. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, Verity was dying. They all were. Well, most of them, anyway. Immortals had their own problems. But Verity Warren had more pressing problems than age. More pressing indeed. ”Have the candidates arrived yet, Cobalt?” ”No, ma’am.” Cobalt stood by the fireplace, posture as ramrod-straight as a coat rack, and checked a pocket watch. “The doors will open in ten minutes precisely.” Verity nodded, trusting him to manage all that. This blasted house… it had been bad enough before the Forgery. Now, after all the damn chaos of the world falling back into its previous pattern, Verity had a rather terrible problem on her hands. There was something very, very wrong with Wickwillow Manor. It was growing, and growing things were hungry things. She had sent out the notice a week ago; it has been Cobalt’s idea, and a good one too. That had been after Willa had gone missing on the third floor. The poor maid had just gone off to change the sheets in the spare bedroom. They still hadn’t found her - or the spare bedroom. What they had found was… well. Not what someone wished to find in their house. Luckily, Verity still had enough staff left to keep this small section of Wickwillow running. The kitchen, the front parlor, the small dining room and one hallway of bedrooms seemed to behave normally. It was the rest of the house that kept changing itself. Adding, removing, scrambling… and the new house guests. So many. Usually not the sort one invited on purpose. She put that from her mind. The parlor had been set for guests, and soon perhaps she’d have the group she needed for this task. By every god she hoped she would. Then maybe she could stave off death a little longer. Delay him. Outwit him. At the very least, outwit this damned house. ”Go open the doors, Cobalt,” Verity said, feeling the weight of years pressing on her soul. “No point in keeping them waiting. Or us. It’s time we got this problem fixed.” Cobalt looked at her for a long moment, then inclined his head and strode from the room. He stepped quickly over thick carpet that turned to marble once he entered the main hall. Then, with a short sigh, he opened the front door. @mathiau @Ookla the Quark @Ookla the Nerdy @Ashbringer@Ookla the Headmuncher
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