The Haunted Woodstraveled_modOctober 25 2009, 01:48:58 UTC
The trees swayed in wind that seemed to exist only between them, their branches curled and crooked like fingers aching to catch and scratch at anyone who'd dare venture into them. A mist obscured the undergrowth and roots and lent a certain amount of ambiance to the scene.
There didn't seem to be any life in the forest; all of the trees were dry and gray and no creatures darted between them or within them. Instead, shadows passed throughout the woods.
Re: The Haunted Woodstoya_kinomotoOctober 25 2009, 03:08:19 UTC
Toya had been exploring the woods near Penguin Park when he found a path that definitely had not been there before. Sensing the shift of magic about him, he will the Star Key into the Star Staff and pressed forward, studying the shadows' movement.
Re: The Haunted Woodstoya_kinomotoOctober 25 2009, 12:00:00 UTC
Toya stopped on the path, scuh as it was, and held the staff before him in both hands as he closed his eyes to concentrate, sending mystic senses outward after noise and shadows alike.
Cabin in the Woodstraveled_modOctober 25 2009, 01:50:27 UTC
Someone's uncle stayed ther, or someone's best friend, or someone's best friend insisted they could stay there.
Either way, it's pretty broken down. The furniture is out of date, the electricity only barely works, and there's a few interesting items sitting around.
The swing on the porch doesn't seem to stop swinging, though.
Re: The Covealias_kiraOctober 25 2009, 13:53:04 UTC
It was the music that had led him here; he thought he might find the source somewhere amid these rocks. But there was nothing he could see, but the remnants of gatherings past.
It felt odd, very odd; but nothing in this place felt right to him. Even the other night in the bar... was more like a dream than reality. And now, he was alone again.
He had probably dreamed it after all. Something here had sensed his desires and carved them into life, for a time. It was a gloomy mood that seeped over the young captain as he walked along the beach.
Re: The Covetraveled_modOctober 25 2009, 18:00:59 UTC
The music that came now was different, strange. It soothed even as it enticed, it beckoned even as it grew ever nearer, and the source seemed to be from the water itself.
Re: The Covealias_kiraOctober 26 2009, 01:26:02 UTC
Kira stopped at the edge of the water, staring out at the expanse before him. He folded his arms across his chest, his hands clutching the opposite elbows; a chill ran down his spine.
He never let anyone see him like this; never let them see the doubt, the loneliness, the faltering. He couldn't afford to dwell on illusions - he had to find a way back.
But somehow, he couldn't make himself move from this spot.
Room 203 of the Legends Inntraveled_modOctober 25 2009, 01:59:30 UTC
The door didn't really look any different. The change here was in feeling, the queasy pit in the stomach of anyone who'd walk past the door. Maybe the shadows were deeper, darker at the door.
Re: Room 203 of the Legends Inntraveled_modOctober 25 2009, 18:03:37 UTC
...what was within was probably something of a disappointment.
The room is more of an apartment than anything. There's a short hallway that leads to the living room, a kitchen tucked in next to where the entryway is, and to the right, another hall that leads to the laundry and the bathroom and the bedroom. A simple little apartment...except that there's so much more to it than that.
The walls are mostly bare except for a few paintings and pictures, but they all hold a strange melancholy tone to them. Around the edges, there's a faint layer of grunge or perhaps...blood? There are scratches in the wall nearest to the kitchen and on the far wall, a clock.
It ticks and ticks and ticks and along with the ticking is a static. Along with the static...soft, amused laughter.
Re: Room 203 of the Legends InnwaitsforwingsOctober 25 2009, 18:08:43 UTC
He peeks in, then takes a step inside, and another. The creepy feeling does not go away. Graham is pretty good at ignoring creepy feelings; he keeps walking, looking very carefully at the walls. (He's pretty good at recognizing bloodstains, too, but for the moment there's not quite enough light to tell.)
The sound of laughter draws him. He approaches the clock.
Comments 119
There didn't seem to be any life in the forest; all of the trees were dry and gray and no creatures darted between them or within them. Instead, shadows passed throughout the woods.
What they were from was anyone's guess.
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Somewhere in the distance, a twig snapped. There was no other noise in this strange wood, however.
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Either way, it's pretty broken down. The furniture is out of date, the electricity only barely works, and there's a few interesting items sitting around.
The swing on the porch doesn't seem to stop swinging, though.
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Or so it looked.
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It felt odd, very odd; but nothing in this place felt right to him. Even the other night in the bar... was more like a dream than reality. And now, he was alone again.
He had probably dreamed it after all. Something here had sensed his desires and carved them into life, for a time. It was a gloomy mood that seeped over the young captain as he walked along the beach.
Reply
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He never let anyone see him like this; never let them see the doubt, the loneliness, the faltering. He couldn't afford to dwell on illusions - he had to find a way back.
But somehow, he couldn't make himself move from this spot.
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And maybe the door almost seemed to be breathing.
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But the thing about magic bars, he supposes, is that they aren't always the nice kind of magic. Sometimes, there's other kinds, too.
He stands contemplating the door for a few minutes at least. Mostly, he's wondering whether he should go home and get a sword before opening it.
At last, he decides he won't be needing one. (He's probably going to end up regretting this choice.)
He sets his hand on the handle, turns it, and pushes.
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The room is more of an apartment than anything. There's a short hallway that leads to the living room, a kitchen tucked in next to where the entryway is, and to the right, another hall that leads to the laundry and the bathroom and the bedroom. A simple little apartment...except that there's so much more to it than that.
The walls are mostly bare except for a few paintings and pictures, but they all hold a strange melancholy tone to them. Around the edges, there's a faint layer of grunge or perhaps...blood? There are scratches in the wall nearest to the kitchen and on the far wall, a clock.
It ticks and ticks and ticks and along with the ticking is a static. Along with the static...soft, amused laughter.
Reply
The sound of laughter draws him. He approaches the clock.
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