Entry 289; Day 130
[Voice Post]
((Click.))
((Cain's voice, slow and soft. Something about the dark begs one to be quiet. Cain doesn't mind the dark--he's on edge, but not panicking. It's rather exciting, really. He's a nighttime creature himself.))
It's so very dark. Dark as the grave, perhaps, dark as a tomb. It could be suffocating it's so dark.
First storms, then an earthquake, and now darkness. I'm told the City once went through all the motions of the end of the world--this seems almost a shadow of that. It can't keep this sort of thing up.
It's darker than I think I've ever seen the City before, and there have been days at least twice or three times when the sun hasn't risen. But there were lanterns and coloured lights those times. This is only darkness.
It's easier to speak than to write, dark as it is. I tried writing and failed miserably. The glow from my Network device lights things a little, but only a very little. The rest is by slowness and feel. I know my way around well enough--at least here.
((Slow footsteps on stone stairs...))
The opera house is actually quite interesting in this kind of dark, what little I can see of it. It's haunting, like the corpse of the place, somehow. But after a while, one can almost tell by the sound what room one is in. The echoes of the great stairs sound larger than the narrow corridors. I'm on the stairs now--I should be nearly at the bottom.
((Something falls in the silence near him, sharp, fading to echoing.))
I think I hear He-Who-Kills scurrying around somewhere. He was loud enough when dawn didn't break.
I hear something, at least. It's quiet here in the dark. --But there must still be enough people around, since I don't hear the ticking.
It's late by now, too. I've heard the clocks striking, even if I can't see them. So we shouldn't have much longer to go.
I wonder...is this what it's like to be blind?
I want to go out in it--out into the City itself, and not just wander around the opera house. It's not just darkness, it's something unto itself. I want to be in the dark--and I want to see if the carousel is still lit, even now.
It's probably still spinning, though, even in the dark. What a nightmare contraption that would be: a dark carousel spinning in the dark.
Perhaps I will go and see it.
((Something like a low dark laugh, and he turns the device off.))
((Click.))
[//Voice Post Ends]
[ooc: How come it's a house of leaves? Cain's being a goth. Meanwhile, mun: So. Tired. So. Busy. Forgive me if I vanish. It's crunch time, but this is such a cool curse. I wanted to post this much earlier and haven't had time until now.]
((Click.))
((Cain's voice, slow and soft. Something about the dark begs one to be quiet. Cain doesn't mind the dark--he's on edge, but not panicking. It's rather exciting, really. He's a nighttime creature himself.))
It's so very dark. Dark as the grave, perhaps, dark as a tomb. It could be suffocating it's so dark.
First storms, then an earthquake, and now darkness. I'm told the City once went through all the motions of the end of the world--this seems almost a shadow of that. It can't keep this sort of thing up.
It's darker than I think I've ever seen the City before, and there have been days at least twice or three times when the sun hasn't risen. But there were lanterns and coloured lights those times. This is only darkness.
It's easier to speak than to write, dark as it is. I tried writing and failed miserably. The glow from my Network device lights things a little, but only a very little. The rest is by slowness and feel. I know my way around well enough--at least here.
((Slow footsteps on stone stairs...))
The opera house is actually quite interesting in this kind of dark, what little I can see of it. It's haunting, like the corpse of the place, somehow. But after a while, one can almost tell by the sound what room one is in. The echoes of the great stairs sound larger than the narrow corridors. I'm on the stairs now--I should be nearly at the bottom.
((Something falls in the silence near him, sharp, fading to echoing.))
I think I hear He-Who-Kills scurrying around somewhere. He was loud enough when dawn didn't break.
I hear something, at least. It's quiet here in the dark. --But there must still be enough people around, since I don't hear the ticking.
It's late by now, too. I've heard the clocks striking, even if I can't see them. So we shouldn't have much longer to go.
I wonder...is this what it's like to be blind?
I want to go out in it--out into the City itself, and not just wander around the opera house. It's not just darkness, it's something unto itself. I want to be in the dark--and I want to see if the carousel is still lit, even now.
It's probably still spinning, though, even in the dark. What a nightmare contraption that would be: a dark carousel spinning in the dark.
Perhaps I will go and see it.
((Something like a low dark laugh, and he turns the device off.))
((Click.))
[//Voice Post Ends]
[ooc: How come it's a house of leaves? Cain's being a goth. Meanwhile, mun: So. Tired. So. Busy. Forgive me if I vanish. It's crunch time, but this is such a cool curse. I wanted to post this much earlier and haven't had time until now.]