well, she can probably figure out someone else is approaching because the general psychic aura in this room gets so bad so quickly. a strong sense of the kind of skin-crawling paranoia of being trapped in a small space, and an exhaustion so profound the walls are probably moving. maybe someone should ... try sleeping? that's crazy. ]
[ considering the screaming in the bathroom, maybe this is the other side of the meltdown. the ball is rolling up. he ........... lightly kicks it with a foot. ]
Yes, but what kind of magic? [She's out of her depth here but hey, who doesn't like a good swim?] I was hoping to find some runes, or expose an enchanted artefact, or any old clue really. They had us in a very powerful sleep after all, to bring us all the way out here.
Are you... [Hmm. How not to pry too hard on this?] So how's things?
[ tapping his nails along the metal of the pod, observing it. ]
... In the rotted guts of Aeor, you can stand on a crest and look out - amongst the ruins of that ancient flying city there are brilliant specks of blue dotted across the landscape. When you get closer, you see that they're not lights, but shimmering bits and sparks of magic, still holding fast. The inside is perfectly preserved. A moment in ice.
Some are simply the failsafe on some mage's useless trinkets and baubles that he foolishly thought he'd be alive to retrieve in time. Some are people. Some are frozen in their panic, cowering and terrified. Some are calm, awaiting the close-by day they'd be pulled from the wreckage and rescued, having endured nothing but the passage of eternal time. A thousand years of stillness.
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WEEK 0: First Monday
Three days here, and nothing to show for it. Nothing!
But where is the stray thought coming from?
There's a little bump from inside (and an echo of a bruising forehead.)
OW. You dummy!]
no subject
well, she can probably figure out someone else is approaching because the general psychic aura in this room gets so bad so quickly. a strong sense of the kind of skin-crawling paranoia of being trapped in a small space, and an exhaustion so profound the walls are probably moving. maybe someone should ... try sleeping? that's crazy. ]
Looking for something in particular?
no subject
Rosamund sits up out of the terrible glass coffin she'd been inspecting, one arrow in hand and pink patch on her forehead from the collision.]
Lucien!
[A polite shock emanates from her. Both to have company and to feel such a dour wave pooling off the man. Is he on the verge of a meltdown?
She quickly covers with a smile, battling back her own frazzled nerves.]
I'm, um. Well. Trying to figure these things out. [She pats the pod hood, as if it's a point that could be missed.]
no subject
Magic, of some sort.
[ thanks captain obvious. ]
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Yes, but what kind of magic? [She's out of her depth here but hey, who doesn't like a good swim?] I was hoping to find some runes, or expose an enchanted artefact, or any old clue really. They had us in a very powerful sleep after all, to bring us all the way out here.
Are you... [Hmm. How not to pry too hard on this?] So how's things?
no subject
... In the rotted guts of Aeor, you can stand on a crest and look out - amongst the ruins of that ancient flying city there are brilliant specks of blue dotted across the landscape. When you get closer, you see that they're not lights, but shimmering bits and sparks of magic, still holding fast. The inside is perfectly preserved. A moment in ice.
Some are simply the failsafe on some mage's useless trinkets and baubles that he foolishly thought he'd be alive to retrieve in time. Some are people. Some are frozen in their panic, cowering and terrified. Some are calm, awaiting the close-by day they'd be pulled from the wreckage and rescued, having endured nothing but the passage of eternal time. A thousand years of stillness.
So probably something of kin to that magic.
no subject
Rosamund can only imagine the sight. But it's not so unfamiliar. Another tomb of sorts, if we're taking his merry band's namesake for a spin.]
That's exactly what I'm afraid of. [She looks back to the cursed things.] I mean, they're practically coffins already.
Was that your home?
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[ shoving his hands into his pockets. ]
Suppose I lied when I said it was only the one tomb.
[ looking at the machine again though. ]
Time is more easily manipulated than the mages would have you believe.