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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 12:00 am
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Living in Halloween had not been easy, nor did Ying ever think it would become easy. It had been very clearly defined that the path she now walked was not only a difficult one, but a lonely one. Very few had chosen to walk away from Medea, and Ying thought every day of returning.
Not to Medea's way of life- never to Medea's way of life- but to her brother, her friends. To food and warmth and life. She still hardly recognized her daily motions as living.
Even now, Ying had crashed after a long day of prejudice and shut doors, to her tiny, sagging apartment in downtown Halloweentown.
For now, Ying slept. She dreamt of the life she once knew- the shores of an island culture, the imperial nature of the Conquest island. The comfortable life she once knew, not knowing of conflict or death or Death or any of it.
Yet she dreamt of something more. Something powerful.
zoobey dream sequence we talked about before biggrin biggrin biggrin
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Posted: Wed Jul 23, 2014 6:09 pm
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The dream started like most dreams did, just voices muttering, just echos of memories. Slowly, the colours blurred together and pulled tighter, slowly shapes began to form.
A road, leading forward. Just one road.
At the end of the road was a tiny figure wearing a blue dress and white apron. It was young, a young scareling perhaps. She curtsied. "This way, this way."
She pointed forwards, and in front of the two was a large black door. She stepped in first, and inside was a table, at the other end of the table a tall pale figure in black that very much resembled Death himself.
"Another visitor," he looked almost real as he gestured to Ying with a skeletal hand, "please, make yourself comfortable. I have all the time in the world." There was a pause and it felt like they were making some indiscernible joke. "So what will it be then? Conversation or request?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2014 1:52 pm
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Ying blinked slowly, first stretching upwards and then settling on her feet whilst rubbing her eyes. It seemed as though she'd just woken up- though that couldn't be true. This was not her apartment.
She walked along the road, looking around for something- anything. The events of the recent had past had taught her to be wary, alert. Perhaps even paranoid.
A blue girl curtsied and Ying blushed, doing the same. She was directed and Ying responded, "Oh th-thank you very much miss!" She scurried towards the door whilst bowing in the girl's direction.
The room was simple. A table, and a figure. A large figure. She bowed to this one as well, unsure of what his status was or even who he was. He looked like death, but then, death had many forms from what she'd seen. At this point he could have been Medea in disguise for all Ying knew. "Ah! Um .... Conversation, maybe? I ... I am not sure why I am here, therefore I am not sure what I would request."
Following Death(?)'s invitation, she padded to the table and took a seat at the foot of the table. "M-My name is Ying Zheng, sir," she said, moving to bow and then realizing there was a table in the way.
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Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2014 9:08 pm
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"A lovely name, I'm sure," he replied dryly. "If we are going by introductions, then I will say I simply have no name or title as I neither belong in the living or dead world. This," he gestured at himself, "is all that remains, my own legacy, really, before the word Legacy had power."
He folded his skeletal hands back on the table. "Please, entertain me. Alice has been such wonderful company lately, I haven't been actively seeking any guests, not yet anyway. You are free to correct me at any time, as this is conversation, but I believe you are here for someone, and that someone is yourself, and not the remains of me. So, follower of Conquest, what are you here for, and be honest with me, I have a low tolerance for lies."
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Posted: Mon Sep 01, 2014 6:43 pm
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"I know of many," the visitor confirmed, "Hundreds have taken the name, and all of them are called Charon, passed by the greatest of human gifts, their personal legacies. The question is which Charon, and a greater question of why. Eventually all those with names simply happen, myself included, and with time, are forgotten. The name is unimportant. "
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