[The video turns on purposefully and shows a blonde woman with large brown eyes sitting at a desk. She has the air of a person who doesn’t do this much - make “public appearances” in the formal sense, that is, since she is perfectly familiar with the Forge itself - but she also looks as if there isn’t much that intimidates her. Her hair is up in a ( Read more... )

So I think we should have a party.

[ Short and sweet. This isn't an announcement: she's starting a conversation. Except like, with everyone. ]

[Sitting at a small table inside the shop, a small smudge of flour on her nose. A small glass terrarium sits on the tabletop, and with three brightly colored butterflies inside. (Two pink, one teal if you're looking.)]

Just an eff-why-eye that Elric and Summers Muffin Alchemy Incorporated is fully incorporational again. I mean operationalFor those ( Read more... )

The players are moving too fast. I can't wait. I have to keep up.

I'm tired of masks ( Read more... )

[ The jostling of a waist pouch causes the Forge to turn on and begin recording. Folds of thick leather muffle the sound of footsteps, as well as a pair of voices, but if you listen closely, the exchange isn't at all inaudible ( Read more... )

[Breathing-- a sudden gasp of air as if waking from a nightmare ( Read more... )

[A door opens and a man steps into view, carrying a little girl high on his shoulders. His clothing suggests a native, and a wealthy one at that. The little girl has long red hair. She appears to be around eight years old.

They're laughing, but the sound of it is cut short as the video switches off.

A few minutes later, the audio alone returns.]

[At first there is only a ragged breath, as of a person attempting to gather up all the reserves of strength in her body. And then silence for another moment. This is more difficult that she thought.]

I have a Forge, so I must be in Anatole. Is that right?

[Her voice is surprisingly steady. A seemingly simple question, though to her it is really ( Read more... )

And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And ( Read more... )