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shadow over dreamwidth [open post]
[This is an open post for Rune/Solomon/Ilhatar/Liam O'Rian/Freckled Garbage Monster. Here are some scenarios for you.
A. Baby It's Awful Down Where it's Wetter
A few seconds ago, you were doing...whatever it was you were doing, in the place you expected to be in. Now you are not. This is...it looks to be a basement or something, marble floors and glass walls (which makes it fucking freezing, by the way, I hope you have a coat). The light is very dim and sickly green; what's worse is that it flickers and dances and leers like a drunken, living thing. Also those glass walls? Aquarium walls. Some of the fish swim in and out of view, and they're all horrible deep-sea monstrosities, of course they are. There are little placards beneath the glass, listing all the awful, awful species.
Also, there's a young man, sitting on a sofa, the only furniture in the room, reading a book. In this light? He'll ruin his eyes.
B. A Little Bit Of Gardening Never Hurt Anyone (We Cared About)
As a contrast, this is a garden. It's a beautiful garden! It's peaceful, and in full bloom, and the sun's shining in through the glass. Ignore things like the skull-shaped pots for some of the smaller plants, and the fact that every single flower in here is poisonous or has thorns or both. Also, there's a freckled...person with a giant floppy sunhat staring at you. All his hair, poking out from under the hat, is also staring at you.
They would like to know why you're in their garden?
C. STOP SUMMONING FOREIGNERS GODDAMMIT
Like. Whatever Holy Grail War this is, however completely fucked the greater grail is this time, a summoning circle probably shouldn't vomit black ooze and your command seals just turned bright green and all the shadows have eyes. Have we learned nothing from the Einsenbergs? Have we learned nothing from Chaldea?
Anyway the shadowy mess coming out of the circle seems to have turned to regard you, what do.
D. Make up your own prompt, live freely, I'm not your Dad
A. Baby It's Awful Down Where it's Wetter
A few seconds ago, you were doing...whatever it was you were doing, in the place you expected to be in. Now you are not. This is...it looks to be a basement or something, marble floors and glass walls (which makes it fucking freezing, by the way, I hope you have a coat). The light is very dim and sickly green; what's worse is that it flickers and dances and leers like a drunken, living thing. Also those glass walls? Aquarium walls. Some of the fish swim in and out of view, and they're all horrible deep-sea monstrosities, of course they are. There are little placards beneath the glass, listing all the awful, awful species.
Also, there's a young man, sitting on a sofa, the only furniture in the room, reading a book. In this light? He'll ruin his eyes.
B. A Little Bit Of Gardening Never Hurt Anyone (We Cared About)
As a contrast, this is a garden. It's a beautiful garden! It's peaceful, and in full bloom, and the sun's shining in through the glass. Ignore things like the skull-shaped pots for some of the smaller plants, and the fact that every single flower in here is poisonous or has thorns or both. Also, there's a freckled...person with a giant floppy sunhat staring at you. All his hair, poking out from under the hat, is also staring at you.
They would like to know why you're in their garden?
C. STOP SUMMONING FOREIGNERS GODDAMMIT
Like. Whatever Holy Grail War this is, however completely fucked the greater grail is this time, a summoning circle probably shouldn't vomit black ooze and your command seals just turned bright green and all the shadows have eyes. Have we learned nothing from the Einsenbergs? Have we learned nothing from Chaldea?
Anyway the shadowy mess coming out of the circle seems to have turned to regard you, what do.
D. Make up your own prompt, live freely, I'm not your Dad
no subject
[It's friendship, Holmes, let it into your heart.]
no subject
You are a god. Whether you are a true one matters little to your devotees. What good comes from chasing the vestiges of your human self?
no subject
Oh! What a charming question...well, it's difficult to answer without spoiling the mystery, but the essence of it is--I will always be both, and neither. That is the condition for what I am, what I was, what I will be.
no subject
Gods. You're all as unreadable as the trash I'm made of.
[He squats to get a closer look at both the bodies.]
CW: GORE
[Liam, pls.
The older gentleman is an aristocrat, through and through. The outfit speaks as much, impeccably tailored and smartly pressed. He shows signs of cardiac arrest, and a flower tucked into his lapel--a daffodil--would indicate akaloid poisoning. As for the other young man...
it's a frightful scene. His eyes removed, the vacant slots seem almost bottomless. there are lacerations over every inch of his body, the limbs splayed in unnatural angles from being broken repeatedly. His clothes--or what remains of them--are working class, and poorly kept, from that. his wrists, ankles and throat all have rope burns--he was on a rack, and then hung. Furthermore, there are several bullet wounds in his chest, and below them, the boy's stomach was cut open and exposed.
But there is no blood.
There is an inky blackness that suffuses through his organs and bruises and cuts. The pallor in his skin seems to come from this lack of blood. there's no stains from an exsanguination, no streaks or any indication there was ever blood in this body. those empty sockets, and his mouth (if pried open), simply contain a bottomless, inky blackness.
There's a sound, the closer the body is examined. A quiet, irregular, but persistent thump.]
no subject
It was the detective's.
He examines each body with the efficiency and coldness of a professional. Feels the clammy skin, turns each limb to properly catch all the data. Death by poison for the older gentleman - that's an easy one. As for the younger man--
Holmes kneels beside him. Almost idly, he pokes a finger into one of the eye sockets. How deep do they really go?]