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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2014 7:44 pm
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All at once, the bowl CAUGHT ON FIRE, a bright purple flame burning from a few inches above the dish. While Shun's hand was safe, his jacket was now on fire.
"Ooh, poor thing. I told you we should have warned him, I told you I did!"
"Nonsense, he's trespassin'!"
Two ghosts emerged from their hiding spots behind the curtains, each looking as though they hadn't bathed in a while. They had torn clothing which revealed very full chests and very full faces, while their hair was tied up in mangled buns. They floated over to the dish, but acted as though Shun really wasn't in the room at all.
"Have you ever seen it so bright though?" one questioned the other, dipping her hand into the flame (which, of course, did nothing as she phased right through it).
---
The creature then spit in Rikki's face. Danny peered around the corner and looked at Rikki, who was petting the air by a carriage. "Um ... what are you doing?"
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2014 8:41 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 06, 2014 8:55 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 12:46 pm
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As soon as Shun acknowledged them, both women contorted their faces into horrible shapes and hissed at him. They lunged, but moments before hitting him, they disappeared into nothingness. The purple flame went out, and the room was cold.
---
Behind the aquarius door, West would find a room full of vines. The walls, the floors, the windows. Everything was vines for days.
Even if West runs, the vines are too fast. They lash out and wrap themselves around him, pulling him into the greenish mass. Even as he sits there, the vines continue to move around him. They are very much alive. Are they squeezing you?
---
The food WAS moving towards him. Suddenly one of the pudding cakes leapt from the wooden table and splatted on Andrew's shirt. The other puddings soon joined in, and the rat popsicles followed in suit. It was war, and Andrew was the target.
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 12:51 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 1:01 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 1:17 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 1:22 pm
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Empty, but for the paintings on the walls, and Taima wasn't much of a fan of art. How disappointing. Oh, well, there were other doors to go through, and maybe some of the others had found--
Taima, a voice whispered as her hand closed around the doorknob and prepared to turn it. It gave her pause, and she looked over her shoulder. She was still alone in the room, but one of the paintings seemed to be watching her. No, it couldn't have been. It was just art, after all.
And then the painting blinked and mouthed her name again. That certainly caught her attention. Intrigued, she turned from the door and stepped towards the paintings. Taima, they seemed to whisper, more than just the one she had seen; a different voice for each hung canvas.
Taima--
Did you hear--
Can't--
So little--
So big--
So vicious--
"That's enough," Taima said, watching the paintings as they watched her, suddenly feeling horribly outnumbered even though they were ink and pigment and she was flesh and blood and Fear--but they didn't stop, raising their voices to be heard over her and one another.
Flies so high--
--but she's just out of reach--
--almost there, but never quite--
"That's enough," Taima snapped. The paintings had certainly lost their novelty at this point, their voices growing louder and louder until the words they were saying lost meaning and became just jarring noise shouting things about her, things no painting--no person--would know. "Shut up!" Taima shouted to be heard over them, her voice underscored by an ominous rumble of thunder, clouds forming over the paintings.
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 1:27 pm
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Nope. Nothing.
---
At Taima's command, the paintings quieted and stilled. None of them moved, all stuck back in their stationary poses. The voices, too, had ceased and Taima would find that her mind was at peace.
However, when Taima next attempted to talk, it would come out as a babble. She is well aware of what she is trying to say, and can tell she is babbling, but cannot stop it regardless. Fully formed sentences come out as shopping lists, as random words, as incoherent poetry.
inle-roo Taima now has a babbling curse! Anything she says comes out as random blather until further notice.
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Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2014 1:36 pm
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