The Longest Thread (Misadventures)

[KaladinsSenseOfHumourSpren He/Him]

9 minutes ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

HEY DOES ANYONE WANT TO INTERACT WITH MY CHARACTER Delusion?

OR MY CHARACTER Agony?

@DragonHeir???

Well

I have some characters who're not doing anything in BftS

I just have to get Clone through Door-Ways

[NameIess]

15 hours ago, Ookla the Wallfacer said:

"So," 18142 said. "Are Narrators the slug? Or perhaps you, writing the slug?"

"The Narrators are me, writing the slug." Malevolence confirmed. "They see reality as words on a page, and they can change those words as they wish, with a few exceptions."

1 hour ago, Shatter said:

Ryna falls silent.

The room feels too full with light, voices, and old grief. She steps back, then hesitates, and moves instead to stand beside Aelinor. Not close enough to intrude. Close enough to be there.

She awkwardly adjusts her satchel, offering a small, uncertain glance Aelinor’s way.

Also letting y'all know, she is tens of thousands of years old but also seems very naïve. Basically Hoid levels of memory, too.

 

"Age brings many things." Whispered a voice audible only to Ryna. "Experience. Joy. But most of all, age brings endings. Watch, and witness, scribe Ryna. Every beginning promises an ending. Every ending, a beginning. Witness this ending, and this beginning."

6 hours ago, Sequence said:

Aelinor was fuming, pacing back and forth and muttering to herself. She jumped in alarm when the Dreamsmith's apparition appeared, reaching once again for a non-existent sword at her hip. She looked between Unintelligible and the Dreamsmith, taking a step forward and opening her mouth. She stopped herself. All it once, it struck her that... These people were much older than she. Unintelligible had known Sequence thousands of pages, and Aelinor was barely a thousand pages old herself. She wrapped her arms around herself, stepping back and looking at her feet. Best to stay out until she was needed.

Willow, however, immediately floated forward with an alarmed red glow. "What is this?" It asked, spinning end over end stationary in the air. "Who is this? Pardon me for not being particularly inclined to trust strange holograms whom appear from strange creatures lurking in strange doors." Aelinor cringed.

The Dreamsmith cocked his head at Willow. "Forgive me. My memory is flawed and I must admit, I did not take as much time with Sequence's weapon as I could have wished, but did I not create you? A dagger with an invisible chain, capable of speech?" He glanced back at Sequence, then blinked. "Ah, forgive me. There is no time. Perhaps later.

The light on Reverie's back grew brighter, and features of the room changed. A forge appeared, and an anvil. Both were misty, as unreal as the Dreamsmith himself. He stood before the anvil and reached to the side, summoning a hammer to his hand. He closed his eyes, and seemed to grow more misty, more unreal. All of him except for the hammer. The hammer grew more distinct, more solid.

The Dreamsmith opened his eyes, and looked from Unintelligible to Sequence to the Great Wizard. "I will do my best to forge a tool capable of manipulating Ivisyre's particular brand of darkness." The Dreamsmith's voice sounded distant, his reality focused into the hammer. "Long ago, I created a weapon capable of drawing out Ivisyre-or Everyone, as they were called-'s power. Now, I must create a similar tool without access to Ivisyre's soul."

The Dreamsmith raised his hammer. "Every tool needs three things..." Catching an incredulous look from Unintelligible, he trailed off. "Ah. Right. Time is limited. I will hurry." He brought his hammer down on the anvil, and two lines of darkness appeared leading to it, one originating from Sequence's wound, the other from the Great Wizard's chest. "I am taking power from the Great Wizard, since he will wield this tool, and from Sequence's wound, since it is the only power of Ivisyre I have access to." The Dreamsmith brought his hammer down repeatedly, efficiently forming the power on his anvil into two rods with circles on the end. reaching down deftly, he attached the two pieces together, bare hand hissing as it contacted the dark energy. With a snap of his fingers, the energy solidified. The Dreamsmith dismissed his hammer, nodding in satisfaction.

"Behold," The Dreamsmith held up his creation, a pair of forceps made from a metal of purest darkness. "Dark-binder, I call them." He tossed them to the Great Wizard. "A rushed name. But they will work, I hope." He turned to Unintelligible and rested a misty hand on his shoulder. "My friend. Be well. I have done what I can."

He turned t
The glow on Reverie began to fade, and the Dreamsmith faded away with it. As his form warped, he turned to Aelinor. 

"Your hands are damaged. You cannot fight as you are. If you wish it, seek me out. I can forge a tool for you. If you wish, then do not delay." The Dreamsmith faded entirely and was gone. The metal creature stood, stepped through a crack in reality, and vanished with him.

The Great Wizard took the forceps with a gasp. "These are..." He shook himself, reaching towards Sequence. His eyes went entirely black. Darkness seeped from them, forming vine-like lines that ran down his face and arms, entirely coating his hands and forearms. Carefully, he reached the forceps forward and into Sequence's wound. Then, ever so carefully, he clamped the forceps down and pulled them up, out of the wound. Held tightly within the forceps was a ball of pulsing shadow, beating almost like a heart. From that ball ran lines of darkness, reaching not only into the wound but to every part of Sequence's body. There were dozens of them, ranging in size from the largest, a line about a thumb's width leading directly into the wound, to the smallest, thinner than a hair, that lead to Sequence's head and heart.

The old man grimaced. The darkness on his hands moved down onto the ball of shadow, coating it, then moving down along the lines of darkness. Then, carefully but forcefully, he pulled the forceps away from Sequence's body. Lines of darkness stretched, then slackened as they were pulled from Sequence. The pulsing of the darkness sped up, then halted.

In the end, the Great Wizard was left holding a ball of darkness with hundreds of slack veinlike cords leading from it, ends trailing down near the ground. He looked to Unintelligible, face etched with exhaustion.

"It is done. The corruption... went further than I thought. Her soul is badly damaged. Whether she will heal or not, I do not know. But... I think I removed all the darkness. Hopefully."

1 hour ago, Ookla the Wedded said:

Somehow going down the correct tunnel, Regulus would soon reach an expansive cavern, and find the dragon. It sat curled up on a pile of varied mammal bones, constructed almost like a bird's nest. As the brave hero stepped forward, he could see that the dragon, was no longer in its prime, as it started sneezing out smoke. The reptile, having heard a bone snap under Regulus' foot, turned its head to look in that direction with its milky white eyes, despite not being able to see. The dragon's formerly thick hide seemed to hang somewhat loose on its frailer frame, and its scales had started to go grey. With a rather pathetic attempt at a roar, the beast proceeded to start the long processes of standing up.

Regulus's eyes widened in shock. A real dragon! He thought. A real dragon, and I have to fight it! He was frozen for a moment, but fortunately, the advice of his father came to mind.

"Son. When you are face to face with a fiery death, don't just sit around."

Regulus blinked, drawing his sword. He ran towards the dragon, hoping to get too close for it to use its fiery breath on him. Although this dragon didn't look to have particularly fiery breath. Thinking back to his dragon-fighting lessons, Regulus cried out a challenge. "Fierce dragon! I, Regulus am here to rescue the prince-er, the damsel you have captured!" Yes, get it talking. Can't breath fire while talking. He screamed a battle cry that came out sounding a little more like just a scream than he would've liked, and swung his sword for one of the dragon's legs.

[KaladinsSenseOfHumourSpren He/Him]

1 minute ago, NameIess said:

"The Narrators are me, writing the slug." Malevolence confirmed. "They see reality as words on a page, and they can change those words as they wish, with a few exceptions."

Sandy and 18142 nodded slowly. "Does using this cost anything to Narrators? Like metals for Allomancy?"

[Kansas Stormcursed he/him]

1 hour ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

HEY DOES ANYONE WANT TO INTERACT WITH MY CHARACTER Delusion?

OR MY CHARACTER Agony?

@DragonHeir???

Dark Cep might be interested

What does Agony do?

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

21 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said:

Dark Cep might be interested

What does Agony do?

Mimics the abilities of whatever hurt any “victim” it identifies

[Kansas Stormcursed he/him]

Just now, SpiritOfWrath said:

Mimics the abilities of whatever hurt any “victim” it identifies

Hm...I guess he'd be more intrigued by Delusion. What's the best way for that interaction to start?

Also are these Notblades, figures holding them, or something else?

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

13 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said:

Hm...I guess he'd be more intrigued by Delusion. What's the best way for that interaction to start?

Also are these Notblades, figures holding them, or something else?

The actual Notblades

Delusion… Delusion would probably try to trap him in an illusion world if she thought he was in pain. Try to save him.

[Shatter He/Him]

2 hours ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

HEY DOES ANYONE WANT TO INTERACT WITH MY CHARACTER Delusion?

OR MY CHARACTER Agony?

@DragonHeir???

maybe annoy Rebus with 'em. That would be fun

[Kansas Stormcursed he/him]

Just now, SpiritOfWrath said:

The actual Notblades

Delusion… Delusion would probably try to trap him in an illusion world if she thought he was in pain. Try to save him.

Interesting, given that that's his purview and skill. This will be fun

Dark Cep brooded. So much left to do, and so much gone wrong. So many threads still left to begin and tie up. And then...well. He knew where this would end. He didn't like it, but he knew it was necessary. And yet...he let himself consider and worry. This would make him even less of a person than he already was. Just a dark afterimage of a man no longer even part of this world, just a shadow of a piece of history. That hurt, more than he thought it would. Even though he wouldn't be the only one, he was still essentially the only one still connected to who he had come from. The other one had developed his own personality, while Dark Cep's was just a slight tweak to his other. Even his name was just a variation, to differentiate him from the original in his Author's mind. He shook his head, letting himself slide deeper into the pain of the endless trail of thoughts.

[Shatter He/Him]

1 hour ago, NameIess said:

"Age brings many things." Whispered a voice audible only to Ryna. "Experience. Joy. But most of all, age brings endings. Watch, and witness, scribe Ryna. Every beginning promises an ending. Every ending, a beginning. Witness this ending, and this beginning."

“Yes, Master Tovir,” Ryna whispered. She opened The Chronicle and brushed a page. Words and pictures filled it for a microsecond, and then vanished. She closed it and put it back in her satchel.

(It's her dead master's voice. I get to shove in more lore! Mwahahahaha)

Edited December 22, 2025 by Shatter

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

25 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said:

Interesting, given that that's his purview and skill. This will be fun

Dark Cep brooded. So much left to do, and so much gone wrong. So many threads still left to begin and tie up. And then...well. He knew where this would end. He didn't like it, but he knew it was necessary. And yet...he let himself consider and worry. This would make him even less of a person than he already was. Just a dark afterimage of a man no longer even part of this world, just a shadow of a piece of history. That hurt, more than he thought it would. Even though he wouldn't be the only one, he was still essentially the only one still connected to who he had come from. The other one had developed his own personality, while Dark Cep's was just a slight tweak to his other. Even his name was just a variation, to differentiate him from the original in his Author's mind. He shook his head, letting himself slide deeper into the pain of the endless trail of thoughts.

A voice came to him. “Your pain… I can taste it. Your hatred. Let me… release you from your woe.”

[Kansas Stormcursed he/him]

23 minutes ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

A voice came to him. “Your pain… I can taste it. Your hatred. Let me… release you from your woe.”

Dark Cep looked around, confused. "Who's there?"

[ThroughTheLivingSequence she/her/they/them]

8 hours ago, NameIess said:

The Dreamsmith cocked his head at Willow. "Forgive me. My memory is flawed and I must admit, I did not take as much time with Sequence's weapon as I could have wished, but did I not create you? A dagger with an invisible chain, capable of speech?" He glanced back at Sequence, then blinked. "Ah, forgive me. There is no time. Perhaps later.

The light on Reverie's back grew brighter, and features of the room changed. A forge appeared, and an anvil. Both were misty, as unreal as the Dreamsmith himself. He stood before the anvil and reached to the side, summoning a hammer to his hand. He closed his eyes, and seemed to grow more misty, more unreal. All of him except for the hammer. The hammer grew more distinct, more solid.

The Dreamsmith opened his eyes, and looked from Unintelligible to Sequence to the Great Wizard. "I will do my best to forge a tool capable of manipulating Ivisyre's particular brand of darkness." The Dreamsmith's voice sounded distant, his reality focused into the hammer. "Long ago, I created a weapon capable of drawing out Ivisyre-or Everyone, as they were called-'s power. Now, I must create a similar tool without access to Ivisyre's soul."

The Dreamsmith raised his hammer. "Every tool needs three things..." Catching an incredulous look from Unintelligible, he trailed off. "Ah. Right. Time is limited. I will hurry." He brought his hammer down on the anvil, and two lines of darkness appeared leading to it, one originating from Sequence's wound, the other from the Great Wizard's chest. "I am taking power from the Great Wizard, since he will wield this tool, and from Sequence's wound, since it is the only power of Ivisyre I have access to." The Dreamsmith brought his hammer down repeatedly, efficiently forming the power on his anvil into two rods with circles on the end. reaching down deftly, he attached the two pieces together, bare hand hissing as it contacted the dark energy. With a snap of his fingers, the energy solidified. The Dreamsmith dismissed his hammer, nodding in satisfaction.

"Behold," The Dreamsmith held up his creation, a pair of forceps made from a metal of purest darkness. "Dark-binder, I call them." He tossed them to the Great Wizard. "A rushed name. But they will work, I hope." He turned to Unintelligible and rested a misty hand on his shoulder. "My friend. Be well. I have done what I can."

The glow on Reverie began to fade, and the Dreamsmith faded away with it. As his form warped, he turned to Aelinor. 

"Your hands are damaged. You cannot fight as you are. If you wish it, seek me out. I can forge a tool for you. If you wish, then do not delay." The Dreamsmith faded entirely and was gone. The metal creature stood, stepped through a crack in reality, and vanished with him.

The Great Wizard took the forceps with a gasp. "These are..." He shook himself, reaching towards Sequence. His eyes went entirely black. Darkness seeped from them, forming vine-like lines that ran down his face and arms, entirely coating his hands and forearms. Carefully, he reached the forceps forward and into Sequence's wound. Then, ever so carefully, he clamped the forceps down and pulled them up, out of the wound. Held tightly within the forceps was a ball of pulsing shadow, beating almost like a heart. From that ball ran lines of darkness, reaching not only into the wound but to every part of Sequence's body. There were dozens of them, ranging in size from the largest, a line about a thumb's width leading directly into the wound, to the smallest, thinner than a hair, that lead to Sequence's head and heart.

The old man grimaced. The darkness on his hands moved down onto the ball of shadow, coating it, then moving down along the lines of darkness. Then, carefully but forcefully, he pulled the forceps away from Sequence's body. Lines of darkness stretched, then slackened as they were pulled from Sequence. The pulsing of the darkness sped up, then halted.

In the end, the Great Wizard was left holding a ball of darkness with hundreds of slack veinlike cords leading from it, ends trailing down near the ground. He looked to Unintelligible, face etched with exhaustion.

"It is done. The corruption... went further than I thought. Her soul is badly damaged. Whether she will heal or not, I do not know. But... I think I removed all the darkness. Hopefully."

Willow made a soft buzzing sound, but did not respond.

Aelinor looked down at her hands with a frown, nodding gently at the Dreamsmith's words.

Sequence...
Did not move. She was deathly still, her skin dull and gray. Aelinor leaned closer, frowning as she scanned Sequence's face. The darkness tinged with crimson that surrounded her wound was now gone, but a different kind of darkness remained. Some of kind that had coated the hands of the Great Wizard, and then Ivisyre's essence, had remained. Clung to her flesh, as if resisting being pulled away from something familiar...

And then Sequence moved. She grimaced, her face twisting up in discomfort and one of her hands drifting towards her side. Aelinor's eyes widened, and she nudged Unintelligible's arm. "Set her down..." She murmured, seeming rather stunned and in disbelief.

To the two people who liked this post…

Edited December 22, 2025 by Sequence
Don’t get your hopes up

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

11 hours ago, Kansas Stormcursed said:

Dark Cep looked around, confused. "Who's there?"

“A friend. A way out of this twisted world.”

[Through the Living Heir he/him]

On 12/20/2025 at 9:30 PM, Sarcasm spren said:

"okay well the sister planet isnt in unfer the control of kimo. Kimo is merely an ally."

lowkey should i have the sister planet being the planet my main story takes place on? Twould introduce A CRAP ton of new lore. And help me get ideas for how to continue the story if it. Although idk how Cannon cannon i would have it be since technically it’s in another universe. 

“Understood. Now that your questions have been answered, does Dax want to see part of my empire before he accepts our deal?” 
I’d say yes. Idea generation is important, and canon doesn’t really need to be strictly followed, as long as it contributes ideas. 

On 12/20/2025 at 9:32 PM, SpiritOfWrath said:

…when is he getting stuffed with that? 

Withergeists are hurt by the presence of reality, but can offer power to destroy it. 
A stranger in a long coat and mask wandered, carrying a satchel. Perhaps someone would interact with them. 

On 12/21/2025 at 12:16 AM, NameIess said:

Lyric continued singing, relief entering his tone as the visible section of wall brightened further, then parted to reveal the exit to the mall.

There was only one problem. In between Jack, Lyric, and safety stood a man with glowing skin, long, unkempt hair, and a crazed grin.

"Your minds will taste most sweet."

Balitan froze. Then his mind began to work frantically. A dozen possible arguments went through his mind in an instant, and he settled on what he felt was most convincing. "Because I did not carry out my plan to kill you. I decided not to for three reasons. First, because it would not work. You have split yourself dozens of ways. I could kill one body, perhaps, do some damage to your soul if I was lucky, but your greater self would survive. And kill me. So my plan was useless." Balitan raised a finger. "In addition, I would also like to posit as evidence of my non-intention to kill you the crudeness of this plan. If I truly were determined to betray you, I would have spent far more time researching a way to force you to coalesce, or to spread Mordite damage across your soul fragments." Balitan wiped sweat from his brow, but his voice was gaining in confidence as he continued. "Second, because I realized that while you are not a good person, killing you would create a power vacuum that would result in a more dangerous villain arising to replace you." He pointed towards the screen, where Malevolence's video was still paused dramatically. "If I kill you, who will claim Antagonist? Malevolence? Ivisyre? Some unknown villain even worse? You are... not a good person. That is true. But you are careful. Surgical. You do not wish to expose yourself to defeat, and so you do not partake in plans that create obvious, fightable evil. Your empire? A utopia, or at least a dystopia disguised as one. Your machinations? Mainly focused on gaining personal power and knowledge. Even in your quest for the Witherlord's mantle, you present yourself as the best, most reasonable option. Your plan seems to whisper that the Witherlord will be summoned eventually, so it might as well be by someone who does not want to use its power to destroy everything." Balitan had stopped sweating, violet eyes flashing with passion as he explained his logic. More than ever, he looked strikingly similar to Malevolence. "Third and most important, I stopped trying to kill you because I realized that you need me. I began planning out of the fear that you would kill me. After learning of your plans, I realized that you need me, and my research. Without me, your plans will fail, and you w-

Malevolence's video crackled back to life, cutting Balitan off. "Slumber in peace." Balitan's eyes glassed over, and he froze mid sentence.

Malevolence grinned. "If you've already killed my poor, weak brother, then I suppose I gave that command for nothing. Still, I doubt you'll kill him. He's as intelligent and arrogant as I am, and unlike me has not a spark of evil within him, making him easy to manipulate." He shook his head distastefully. "Thank you for gathering those resources, by the way. I will put them to good use. For now, I wished to issue you a challenge. The Witherlord is out of reach for both of us while Bacon's Author is inactive. However, we can still compete in other ways." The screen shifted from Malevolence's face, showing instead an image of various characters. Cricket, Unintelligible, Jack and Lyric, Hawks, Cep. "I propose a competition in line with both your main goals and mine. We both attempt to interfere with the lives of a character or group of characters. Whoever does a better job of ruining the life of, killing, converting to evil, et cetera of said character or group of characters wins! That will keep you relevant, incite both exciting plot to entice your Author to give you further life and potentially even a Protagonist to appear, something your Witherlord plan requires. It will also give me the chance to prove myself the superior villain. If you accept, come meet me at the Trisolaran ships, where we can discuss terms."

The video ended, leaving Rebus in the dim light of the lab, Balitan frozen in place before him.

Jack stopped in his tracks. “No it won’t,” he stammered. “My mind is… sour. It’s sour, you don’t want it.” Springs wound tighter within him, and he leveled his tone, speaking quietly to Lyric. “I’ll distract him. I’m faster than I look, and whatever it is he does might not work while you keep singing.” 
-

Those were good reasons. Rebus waved a hand, and nanomachines crept into Balitan’s wrist, forming a silvery tattoo. He would leave the man alive, though he would pay far more attention in the future. 
As for the lab… Rebus stood still for a moment, and all the computers rebooted. Not that it would stop Malevolence, but perhaps it would be helpful all the same. 
-

Rebus raised an eyebrow at Malevolence’s proposal. There was little to gain in accepting, but there was also little to lose. 

17 hours ago, Ookla the Wallfacer said:

Sandy and 18142 nodded slowly. "Does using this cost anything to Narrators? Like metals for Allomancy?"

“Prismite,” Rebus said, having materialized without a sound. “But Narrators replenish their supply naturally, so unless they’re fighting another Narrator or split into thousands of copies, the cost is inconsequential.” 

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

Just now, DragonHeir said:

“Understood. Now that your questions have been answered, does Dax want to see part of my empire before he accepts our deal?” 
I’d say yes. Idea generation is important, and canon doesn’t really need to be strictly followed, as long as it contributes ideas. 

Withergeists are hurt by the presence of reality, but can offer power to destroy it. 
A stranger in a long coat and mask wandered, carrying a satchel. Perhaps someone would interact with them. 

Jack stopped in his tracks. “No it won’t,” he stammered. “My mind is… sour. It’s sour, you don’t want it.” Springs wound tighter within him, and he leveled his tone, speaking quietly to Lyric. “I’ll distract him. I’m faster than I look, and whatever it is he does might not work while you keep singing.” 
-

Those were good reasons. Rebus waved a hand, and nanomachines crept into Balitan’s wrist, forming a silvery tattoo. He would leave the man alive, though he would pay far more attention in the future. 
As for the lab… Rebus stood still for a moment, and all the computers rebooted. Not that it would stop Malevolence, but perhaps it would be helpful all the same. 
-

Rebus raised an eyebrow at Malevolence’s proposal. There was little to gain in accepting, but there was also little to lose. 

“Prismite,” Rebus said, having materialized without a sound. “But Narrators replenish their supply naturally, so unless they’re fighting another Narrator or split into thousands of copies, the cost is inconsequential.” 

Well he replicates the power of what hurts the victim, not the victim. He views himself as separate from the victims, and views them as powerless. He is a “ray of grace” or smt.

Agony emerged from a cavern near him.

[Through the Living Heir he/him]

2 minutes ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

Well he replicates the power of what hurts the victim, not the victim. He views himself as separate from the victims, and views them as powerless. He is a “ray of grace” or smt.

Agony emerged from a cavern near him.

So if the victim is hurt by reality’s presence, he gets the power of reality?! Sounds like the withergeist wouldn’t even need to offer him a bond. 
The stranger did not turn around, but nonetheless seemed to have noticed Agony’s presence. 

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

1 minute ago, DragonHeir said:

So if the victim is hurt by reality’s presence, he gets the power of reality?! Sounds like the withergeist wouldn’t even need to offer him a bond. 
The stranger did not turn around, but nonetheless seemed to have noticed Agony’s presence. 

Yeah

Agony called after the stranger. “Do you have pain?”

[Through the Living Heir he/him]

1 minute ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

Yeah

Agony called after the stranger. “Do you have pain?”

“No. I do not.” And as far as Agony could tell, that was true. The person standing before him did not even feel alive. 

[Keke They/he]

1 hour ago, DragonHeir said:

Understood. Now that your questions have been answered, does Dax want to see part of my empire before he accepts our deal?” 

"Yeah"

UNPAUSE DAX

"Im going to take you up on the tour offer. before I accept."

[KaladinsSenseOfHumourSpren He/Him]

5 hours ago, DragonHeir said:

“Prismite,” Rebus said, having materialized without a sound. “But Narrators replenish their supply naturally, so unless they’re fighting another Narrator or split into thousands of copies, the cost is inconsequential.” 

"So Narrators are like... sub-Authors?"

[Kansas Stormcursed he/him]

12 hours ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

“A friend. A way out of this twisted world.”

"What way out would you offer me?"

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

9 hours ago, DragonHeir said:

“No. I do not.” And as far as Agony could tell, that was true. The person standing before him did not even feel alive. 

“Interesting… an interesting lie. There is pain in everything, burdens unseen or unfelt. But still present. Just as a bridge does not feel itself buckle underneath its load, you may not feel your pain.”

1 hour ago, Kansas Stormcursed said:

"What way out would you offer me?"

“An illusion. A lie. A better life.”

[Kansas Stormcursed he/him]

15 hours ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

“Interesting… an interesting lie. There is pain in everything, burdens unseen or unfelt. But still present. Just as a bridge does not feel itself buckle underneath its load, you may not feel your pain.”

“An illusion. A lie. A better life.”

"Ahhh. An illusion. Yes. Like this one?" The scenery around changed to an idyllic field. Suddenly, it burst alight, smoke darkening the sky. Then the flames disappeared, and from the ash tall trees grew to cover the sky. All this happened in the span of seconds. "What can you show me that I have not already seen?"

[Through the Living Shadow he/him]

22 hours ago, Kansas Stormcursed said:

"Ahhh. An illusion. Yes. Like this one?" The scenery around changed to an idyllic field. Suddenly, it burst alight, smoke darkening the sky. Then the flames disappeared, and from the ash tall trees grew to cover the sky. All this happened in the span of seconds. "What can you show me that I have not already seen?"

“What have you heard, felt, tasted? I can show you anything, any paradise.”

Delusion has a bit of a complex you’ll have to get past first, sorry.