Twentieth Call
-Listen carefully...do you hear that? It seems like an awkward stumbling through the forest. Dry twigs and leaves snap as this...person probably? shambles about on their path. After a moment, one can hear a faint...familiar voice-
The dance of the puppets
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournaments begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrims door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants
The funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.
-Doppio stumbles out into the street, heading in...well sort of the direction of the home he once had before his business with Diavolo and the Arrow began. He seems to be moving completely on autopilot. His eyes are empty and his body seems bloodied. It was as if his state hadn't changed at all between this moment and his death not long ago-
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gentle pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.
-Valiantly he seems to try to make it, but he stumbles and collapses before his goal even comes into sight. He's still conscious, but unable to move.
Doppio has returned...but at what cost? One has to wonder.-
The dance of the puppets
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournaments begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrims door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants
The funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.
-Doppio stumbles out into the street, heading in...well sort of the direction of the home he once had before his business with Diavolo and the Arrow began. He seems to be moving completely on autopilot. His eyes are empty and his body seems bloodied. It was as if his state hadn't changed at all between this moment and his death not long ago-
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gentle pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.
-Valiantly he seems to try to make it, but he stumbles and collapses before his goal even comes into sight. He's still conscious, but unable to move.
Doppio has returned...but at what cost? One has to wonder.-