Video. --> Voice.superciliousSeptember 15 2011, 11:37:07 UTC
All right.
[ What a terrible idea. ]
[ He turns the screen off. There are sounds of him settling somewhere, and he clears his throat. ]
Once upon a time.
[ As all stories must begin. ]
There was a young prince. He lived... in a tower. Alone. A very tall tower, with no stairs or doors. Though many people passing by would stop and talk to him, and though he had plenty to do, there was still a sort of loneliness to it, and his nights were long.
There was another young man who lived in, I don't know, a nearby village, and passed by a lot, and the prince in the tower fancied him a bit. And he'd daydream about coming out of his tower and how the two of them would do a great many marvelous things together and change the world for the better.
[ A short breath, and he adds, before she can say anything- Don't interrupt
( ... )
Video. 1/2sonvisageSeptember 19 2011, 18:54:08 UTC
[She blinks at first, settles back to listen, half surprised that he agreed to this at all. Gaze shifting from the Forge to the floor to somewhere that might not be anywhere in Anatole at all.
No stairs. No doors. Was the never meant to leave, then? Or ever to let anyone in? What purpose would that serve? Not that it mattered, this was just a story after all.
What marvelous things? she almost asks, but then he's gone and warned her not to interrupt and she was not going to interrupt why would he even assume that but then he's gone and woven words again. Woven and threaded like the strands of hair across her fingers as she twines it - listening -
(Sweeter than a song)
(Strength and havoc)
(Ashes and dust)
From one tower to another, after all that? It doesn't seem fair. Or right, and when are things ever either but---]
[ What a terrible idea. ]
[ He turns the screen off. There are sounds of him settling somewhere, and he clears his throat. ]
Once upon a time.
[ As all stories must begin. ]
There was a young prince. He lived... in a tower. Alone. A very tall tower, with no stairs or doors. Though many people passing by would stop and talk to him, and though he had plenty to do, there was still a sort of loneliness to it, and his nights were long.
There was another young man who lived in, I don't know, a nearby village, and passed by a lot, and the prince in the tower fancied him a bit. And he'd daydream about coming out of his tower and how the two of them would do a great many marvelous things together and change the world for the better.
[ A short breath, and he adds, before she can say anything- Don't interrupt ( ... )
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No stairs. No doors. Was the never meant to leave, then? Or ever to let anyone in? What purpose would that serve? Not that it mattered, this was just a story after all.
What marvelous things? she almost asks, but then he's gone and warned her not to interrupt and she was not going to interrupt why would he even assume that but then he's gone and woven words again. Woven and threaded like the strands of hair across her fingers as she twines it - listening -
(Sweeter than a song)
(Strength and havoc)
(Ashes and dust)
From one tower to another, after all that? It doesn't seem fair. Or right, and when are things ever either but---]
Did you really think I was going to interrupt?
Reply
The first had no stairs nor doors, and the last no stairs nor doors nor windows? With all that power could he not just punch a hole into the sky?
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[ A pause, he's smiling a little, though she can't see it. But at the next question it fades. ]
The first time he stayed trapped by choice. The second was a cage made of his own power.
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With that much power could he not unmake his own prison?
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[No hint of mockery. She sounds ...sincere?]
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