// 015. [video]
[Mist swirls along the edges of rock, thick and almost tangible through the screen (Perhaps it is. It's mist after all). The Forge is at an awkward angle, propped against something, possibly so that it can be turned on in a moment.
It's impatient. So have a view.
Irene sits on the edge of that rock, a silver helmet in her lap. The rock itself is limned in red, the only hue amidst a wash of colorbled haze. Pale limbs, pale eyes, pale hair. Stone and mist and endless grey stretching back behind her.
Shadows and shapes flicker there, too. Perhaps you see a familiar shadow? A familiar shape? Well, that's all right. The mist has other songs to sing.
It sings of a pool beneath the rock. A pool of flesh and a ruin of bone. How many elves within it are a mystery.
She swipes a ragged piece of cloth across the helm in her lap, wiping away a smear of rustbrownred. All the old blood is silently cleaned away - to make way for the new it seems - the trail that drips from the her ear stains it fresh.
Static bursts several times before she looks up and into the Forge. For a long moment she doesn't speak.]
Kunsel died a hero.
[Why. WHY. WHY ARE HEROES SOMETIMES SO DUMB.
Her expression is neutral, but every few seconds it is yoki spikeapalooza. JSYK. If you're the sort who can feel that kind of thing.]
It's impatient. So have a view.
Irene sits on the edge of that rock, a silver helmet in her lap. The rock itself is limned in red, the only hue amidst a wash of colorbled haze. Pale limbs, pale eyes, pale hair. Stone and mist and endless grey stretching back behind her.
Shadows and shapes flicker there, too. Perhaps you see a familiar shadow? A familiar shape? Well, that's all right. The mist has other songs to sing.
It sings of a pool beneath the rock. A pool of flesh and a ruin of bone. How many elves within it are a mystery.
She swipes a ragged piece of cloth across the helm in her lap, wiping away a smear of rustbrownred. All the old blood is silently cleaned away - to make way for the new it seems - the trail that drips from the her ear stains it fresh.
Static bursts several times before she looks up and into the Forge. For a long moment she doesn't speak.]
Kunsel died a hero.
[Why. WHY. WHY ARE HEROES SOMETIMES SO DUMB.
Her expression is neutral, but every few seconds it is yoki spikeapalooza. JSYK. If you're the sort who can feel that kind of thing.]