this chaos, this calamity
Characters: The Queen of Hearts (rosestolilies) and any PCs who come after her.
Date: Starting Thursday, March 24th and continuing until Tuesday, March 29th.
Summary: The Queen is trapped in the Labyrinth, along with her promises of home. What's to be done but go and find her?
Warnings: Creepiness tailored to the characters.
For three days after the mirror shattered on the Queen's visage, the way to the Labyrinth remains closed. Despite the incarnae's implications that the Queen is in there, the Vine remains coiled tightly around the steps leading down into the ruins. Attempts to slash or burn it only make it more hostile, more reluctant to transmit messages.
But it's spring now. On the morning of the third day, great white flowers bloom on the Vine where it covers the presumed entrances to the Labyrinth. As the light begins to fade in the evening, a soft rustling comes from the flowers, and their petals begin to fall. A light wind blows them about the Gardens. They glow faintly in the dimming light. Pick one up, and it glows more. Draw closer to the ruins, and it brightens, until its holder stands in front of an entrance to the Labyrinth. By then what was once a delicate white petal is now a smokeless, heatless flame dancing harmlessly between the fingers that grasp it. Hold it out to the Vine and the greenery shrinks away from it, revealing a passage into the darkness.
A crumbling stairway spirals down. Keep hold of the petal. It's the only thing that lights the way. Now and then, a fractured snippet of song hums from the white flame in the Queen's voice.
Date: Starting Thursday, March 24th and continuing until Tuesday, March 29th.
Summary: The Queen is trapped in the Labyrinth, along with her promises of home. What's to be done but go and find her?
Warnings: Creepiness tailored to the characters.
For three days after the mirror shattered on the Queen's visage, the way to the Labyrinth remains closed. Despite the incarnae's implications that the Queen is in there, the Vine remains coiled tightly around the steps leading down into the ruins. Attempts to slash or burn it only make it more hostile, more reluctant to transmit messages.
But it's spring now. On the morning of the third day, great white flowers bloom on the Vine where it covers the presumed entrances to the Labyrinth. As the light begins to fade in the evening, a soft rustling comes from the flowers, and their petals begin to fall. A light wind blows them about the Gardens. They glow faintly in the dimming light. Pick one up, and it glows more. Draw closer to the ruins, and it brightens, until its holder stands in front of an entrance to the Labyrinth. By then what was once a delicate white petal is now a smokeless, heatless flame dancing harmlessly between the fingers that grasp it. Hold it out to the Vine and the greenery shrinks away from it, revealing a passage into the darkness.
A crumbling stairway spirals down. Keep hold of the petal. It's the only thing that lights the way. Now and then, a fractured snippet of song hums from the white flame in the Queen's voice.