Feb 23, 2015
"And when I promise something, I never ever break that promise. Ever."
"Nocturn." A big smile on her face, Arabella was more than glad when the mysterious good dropped by to visit. It was always a pleasure whenever he did.Â
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"And when I promise something, I never ever break that promise. Ever."
"Nocturn." A big smile on her face, Arabella was more than glad when the mysterious good dropped by to visit. It was always a pleasure whenever he did.Â
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Petals like stars
thedreamingvoid Untangling a stray petal from her hair, Arabella came to be in a wind whirl of blue. Tiny white to pink petals rotates around her like tiny moons that the witch was too tired to acknowledge. Sighing she walked through the garden, hands going slack over the satchel before she threw it aside. Then burrowing hands into her hair she pulled it back - the closest it'd get to orderly and combed - she coached her own blossoms to retreat to the back of her neck. The uncomfortable itch and the consequential lack of light now that they were closed made her hesitate. This was where she had set up the little shrine. Had the candles gone out?
Justice
Justice:A decision you wish you could do over
"Very well Brother Graham." The man adjusted his glasses and put the papers in order. A manuscript, written in his neat and yet slightly chaotic writing. Wayland's stomach lurched in exitement. Finally, after months of writing, compiling and processing he was looking at his work in the publisher's hands. And even despite the srictures, he felt proud. He was looking at the very birth of his book.
"Me and our men have been revising your manuscript. Smoothed a few passages over." He fumbled a little note out of his desk and Wayland took it with his gloved hands. Page sites were written on it and Wayland nodded. "Of course you will recieve the prototype and you may look over the changes. But other than we already talked about, nothing has been changed so there should be no problem, brother Graham."
"Very well.", Wayland said and nodded his masked face. "So!", the publisher rose and offered him his ink stained hand. "I believe we both can be proud to attend the birth hour of your book, Overseer." Wayland rose as well and then after a moment took his hand. "The birth hour of my book.", he agreeed.Â
"May this book bring you prosperity and look. And a little fortune.", the publisher winked and shook his hand.
THE SUN
The Sun:Your happiest memory
"I have a collection of those, actually. Manyscattered happy memories." Arabella smiles, trying to contain her laughterwith a hand to her lips, those pressed shut. âToo many to choose just one.â
Thedreamingvoid entered the Nightmare
thedreamingvoid
âWould you care to introduce yourself?â she demanded despite her choice of words, stepping down from the dead body under her shoes and her eyes glaring intently at the man.
" Also, if you would explain...why do you keep following my brother?"
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Of Gods and Men
thedreamingvoid
The closest thing he ever got to rest was the quiet nights spent by the dock of the Hound Pits. Most of the dock was crumbing and, sure enough, the boards farthest out had sunken into the water and knocked gently at the rocks. The water splashed up over the small marshy land, washing out reeds and dead insects. Corvo sighed, taking in the night air and worrying over a bit of fabric that hung loose from his pant leg.
He didnât look at the Mark, didnât look out into the open sea. Corvo didnât even look back at the warm inviting lights of the pub. Instead, the water seemed a much more interesting subject. No reflection could be found in the shifting surface but he could see the reflected lights of the city and the even smaller lights of the stars.
The dock creaked slowly, normal with the weight it held and the age it bore. High tide would be coming in soon and the entirety of the dock would be once more submerged underneath the water. Maybe this time the tide would drown out the old planks and finally wash it out to sea.
The next creek set him on edge. Perhaps it was the ever increasing stress he felt amongst the Loyalists. Maybe it was his years as a Lord Protector showing through. Either way, he went rigidly defensive and turned his head just enough to glance back.
âIâm terrified.â (Hi! Hope it's all right to hop in here!)
Behind the brass, Wayland actually frowned. The other seemed quite unimpressed by the fact that the branded man was pointing a gun at him. Wayland had not heard him coming, thus very much catching him off guard. And on guard he was always since his exile. The district was unforgiving and so he had to be as well. But this one seemed not about to lunge and ram a knife into him so he lowered his arm at last. "Either this or you are a fool. What do you want from me anyways?".